#i just have one psych thought every couple years or so that i let float out there
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Totally apropos of nothing, but I was thinking about the Shules confession scene the other day. (from Psych) "I've been thinking about getting a car", etc, we all know it, we all love it, but.
Despite how good that scene is, the fact remains that we haven't actually seen Shawn ride his motorcycle since, like, maybe season 2? kind of weakens the impact of his declaration that he loves riding his motorcycle, which is the basis of the whole analogy.
But you know what have seen Shawn do? What we see him do pretty much every episode?? Ride in Gus's car.
#psych usa#shawn spencer#burton guster#shawn x gus#idk what the ship name is#idek if this show has an active fandom#i just have one psych thought every couple years or so that i let float out there#not specifically anti shules but i don't think they're that compelling either#and i think we should acknowledge that gus has been RIGHT THERE THE WHOLE TIME#yes i realize the bike probably stopped showing for practical production and/or storytelling reasons but that's not the POINT
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Thoughts on WN S2
Heavy spoilers, as I have no self control and ended up just clicking ‘next’ until I ended up finishing the whole thing.
A SUPER long post below the cut
So, I can’t tell if it’s the extreme fatigue that I’m experiencing due to lack of sleep (which I’m sure plays a part in it) but I have mixed feelings on season 2. I’ll just ramble some points off
Avatrice
I will get straight to it, I thought it was pretty great content, they really fed us this season. Straight off the bat, they knew who was the main ship and they really leaned into it for S2 and we were rewarded with so many good scenes. From the build up of jealousy (not just from Bea, but also bits from Ava), to the fact that they shared so much screen time together (probably moreso together than apart), it really was a bonanza of Avatrice in literally almost every episode.
Bea not getting drunk before and Ava like “oh hell yes, lets get you effed up! shots shots shots!” was pretty fun, but it was even funnier how Beatrice didn’t even seem that drunk after the whole bar scene ended. Like, girl, if you never drink more than a couple sips of wine, how did you not get at least a little sick or dizzy after all those shots and then proceeded to kick butt like nothing happened?
but also, that bar scene!!
and also oh my god, they were roommates.
When did Ava learn to bartend? (random thought)
So, so many moments between these two. Ava falling and hitting the floor and Beatrice cradling her in her arms, it was almost like true love brought her back (lol) but eh, it’s the halo. They’re unstoppable together!
Beatrice constantly worried for Ava’s training and battle-readiness, because Warrior Nuns don’t get to live long lives and this thought probably weighs heavy on her mind constantly.
Beatrice really struggling with her own convictions for the first time and telling Ava to run and hide so that she can just be safe, because Bea would rather be apart than see Ava fall in battle. It’s about keeping the halo safe, yes, but it’s moreso about keeping Ava safe.
Camila having her talk with Beatrice about being terrible at lying. Lol, Camila knows, she’s always known.
We got a kiss!!
Their goodbyes by the portal was so sad, and they both got to say I love you, but Ava didn’t hear it back. Ava is now floating for who knows how many years in the beyond, not having actually heard Beatrice return her words. And yeah I know, she already knows how Bea feels since they kissed, but still, that hurts.
Action scenes were awesome. I really enjoyed the choreography for the fights, and the episodes that had those extended shots felt very dynamic and exciting. There was also a lot more gore and dismemberment this season (or at least it feels that way) and I don’t remember S1 being like that, but honestly I like the level of violence in this season, as the stakes felt higher and tone of the show overall darker and more urgent.
Back to the tone, I like how this season felt darker and more sinister. The fear in the cemetery legitimately scared me for a sec when Michael’s face changed. I was not expecting that. and then Camila’s hallucinations with Adriel felt very unnerving. And the uncertainty of not knowing who was siding with Adriel created a truly anxious atmosphere. Great stuff.
Sweet, sweet Camila going from rookie to coming into her own. I was worried for a bit that Adriel would capitalize on her insecurity of constantly being the young one, but she fought back and weaponized it against him, which was awesome. Her transforming into somewhat of a mentor to Yasmine was also great to see. Plus I mean c’mon, Camila with a gun? Camila with a wrist-mounted crossbow? Sign me up!
Mother Superion! We got more backstory! We got that psyche out (honestly if she didn’t make it, I was going to riot). I’m glad she got that moment with the halo bringing her back after enduring so much burden and regret over her past actions. She also had some super badass fight scenes and overall Sylvia De Fanti’s acting was very standout for me.
Now here begins my rant
Now, I will say, the one thing that really, really bothered me was how they handled Shotgun Mary, and this particular point really left a sour taste in my mouth to the point that I almost didn’t even enjoy the Avatrice payoff at the end.
If she really is truly gone, they glossed over her death so POORLY. If that was the direction they were going to take, I would rather they have ended S1 with her heroically sacrificing herself and the sisters teleporting away so that we didn’t have to wait 2 FREAKING YEARS just to have a brief scene saying she’s gone?!? It was like dangling her fate in front of us and it was so cruel, with them knowing she was not returning for S2.
And like, the reactions of the sisters upon learning her downfall, the scenes were emotional, and heart wrenching, but then the next episode it was like NOTHING EVEN HAPPENED??? Ava was cracking jokes about going SIGHTSEEING??? Like, wtf??? I thought it would have had more impact, but all we got really was a line from Mother Superion about how they don’t have time to mourn the fallen??? It just, the handling of all that really rubbed me the wrong way.
and then the random introduction of Sister Dora at the end? Like they basically just replaced Shotgun Mary with another POC as if to say “oh it’s fine, here’s filling the quota with another person”. I don’t know. I just, it felt so tone deaf?? to me.
And then Lilith, I understand that her character in the comics (granted, I did not read very far) is not meant to necessarily be a hero, but just her going from hunting down Father Vincent, distraught over Mary, to then going to Adriel’s side? The side of the guy WHO WAS THE REASON MARY DIED? And to justify this decision, I get that Lilith is a complex character dealing with the expectations of her mom and not becoming the halo-bearer, but like, that scene with her mom was so brief, and I felt like it wasn’t new information that her parents were overbearing. It just felt like a throwaway scene to explain why Lilith would end up siding with Adriel. (also that kiss? I saw it coming a mile away and it still made me want to throw my phone). Lilith in general is one of my favorite characters, and for her to flip flop and end up siding with the enemy feels like a step back from where her trajectory was going in season 1 after she returned.
And then Adriel’s death???? DEATH BY TARASK STABBING? He was so powerful and yet he got surrounded by a handful of tarasks and couldn’t teleport away or something? Why didn’t Ava do this earlier? Did Reya give her the idea? Even if she didn’t, why try exploding the divinium bomb first before just summoning the tarasks?? I have so many questions, his death just felt so... undeserved.
Also how did the portal stay open after the cross was destroyed?
If Reya had been chasing the damn halo for CENTURIES, if it was right there in front of her, why did she let Ava keep it? The tarasks have been hunting that shit for forever, and Reya just... let her have it? maybe this plays a part in the future seasons, but like, right now it looked like a “thank you for saving me and destroying Adriel, you can keep it” kind of gesture, which is super wild to me.
WHEW.
Anyways, that was a lot more than I intended, but I just had a hard time sleeping because there were so many thoughts running through my head.
I want to like this season, and in many ways I did (the Avatrice content yo!!) but like, it just felt like there was a cloud hanging over it the whole time for me so I’m conflicted.
#long post#sorry for the rant#warrior nun#warrior nun spoilers#spoilers#wn spoilers#there are so many more things I left out#but I have work right now#and I'm tired#and struggling to focus hahahha
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I haven't had another episode, except last night was touch and go + Mr Crockett
Episode | Crockett Marcel
Excerpt from a psych!AU I’ll never write; Crockett is an inpatient in the psych ward and he has therapy with his favourite Psychiatrist
Prompt: “I haven’t had another episode, except last night was touch and go.”
Word count: 1797
CW: Psych ward, talks of depressive episodes, brief mention of dermatillomania, schizoaffective disorder, child death
***
“Mr. Marcel?” the voice at his door made Crockett groan, recognizing the voice as the nurse who always disturbed him at ridiculous hours. He wanted to have a talk with whoever decided pill time would be at six in the morning, how was he supposed to “heal” if they never let him get any sleep?
“Maggie, can’t you let me sleep for another hour,” he rolled over and sighed when she shook her head. Medication and vitals were a morning routine, every day before the sun even thought about rising completely. Routine was good, they told him, a routine would help with figuring out what was reality and what was his mind playing tricks. He didn’t think so, nothing would stop the fact that he saw his daughter clear as day despite the 5th anniversary of her death steadily approaching.
“Up and at ‘em, mister,” the nurse mused as she marched over with his tray and the cart carrying the monitors. He obliged because he had no choice but to do so, even though he hated the way the pills made him feel. Antipsychotics were something Crockett hated, ever since his diagnosis back when he was just twenty-one. They made him feel incorrect, as if he was floating through life with blinders on. He knew they were supposed to help, to show him what was really there, but he couldn’t help but think it made him more miserable.
“You have one-on-one therapy today,” she reminded him as she watched Crockett take his pills and then checked under his tongue to ensure he wasn’t hiding them. He had tried that a couple times and sometimes it worked on the younger nurses, but not Maggie. She knew all, especially these kinds of tricks, and Crockett wasn’t about to risk mandatory IV medications for another month just for one day without the drugs.
“Oh lovely,” he muttered, “Not that Charles guy again, right? He’s insufferable.”
Maggie laughed, “Oh please, Daniel is just fine.”
“Insufferable,” he restated with an eye-roll, still complying when she held out the pulse oximeter to clip it to his fingertip. Maggie just hummed, watching the machine for a moment before speaking.
“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that. If it makes it any better, though, you’ll be seeing Doctor Reese today.”
That brought a smile to his face, though it was one that never quite reached his eyes. Maggie wasn’t sure if she had ever seen a genuine smile from Crockett, certainly not since Harper’s death and the worsening of his illness. Still, if one thing made his days more bearable it was sessions with Doctor Reese, who Crockett had started to consider more of a friend than a physician by that point.
“Our Sarah,” he hummed as she took the device off his hand, “She’s lovely.”
“She is,” the nurse agreed, “Now go get ready for the day, Crockett. You’ll be expected in the dining hall by 7:00 and I certainly won't have you slumming around in your pyjamas all day; you know the drill.”
***
By noon, Crockett was ready to go back to bed. Breakfast had been as dull as always, with his friend Ava in solitary for the next two days he didn’t have many people to speak to. Well, Natalie liked to talk to him but, if he was being honest, she could be a little much. She was just excited, Maggie insisted, but she tried to get Crockett to talk about his hallucinations far too often for him to be comfortable.
Jimmy sat with him that day, though. He didn’t talk much, or ever really, but he was decent company. They played cards together sometimes and always partnered for the team-building exercises in group therapy. Crockett didn’t press for verbal communication and Jimmy never judged him for his episodes; it was a friendship built on silent respect and they were both pleased with that arrangement. Still, Crockett often preferred to be alone, and that day was no different, so he retreated to his bedroom the second they allowed him to.
When nurse April arrived at his door with her tablet in hand, Crockett had been staring blankly at the TV. It wasn’t on, never was, but he watched it as if the most riveting program was playing. He wasn’t focusing on a delusion, though, and he promised April that when she asked if he was okay. The meds got rid of most of his visual symptoms, though the auditory ones were still a frequent occurrence with or without the drugs. He just liked to look at the TV, letting his mind wander to a time where he could actually enjoy television. It had been about five years by then, the last movie he remembered watching being the Princess and the Frog. Harper had loved that movie and talked excitedly of visiting New Orleans to see where her papa and Princess Tiana were both from. She never got there, unfortunately; the cancer taking her before her dad had the time to buy plane tickets.
“Come now, Crockett. Sarah is waiting in the conference room for you.”
He let the nurse lead him down the hall, silent because his head was still miles away. He was alert and lucid, that wasn’t the problem. Today it wasn’t delusions that plagued Crockett, instead it was the memories that had started to hurt him the most. Sarah would ask about that, especially once she saw the semi-lunar marks along the inside of his wrists, turning to scratches that curled up towards his biceps. Maggie hadn’t seen them because of his long sleeve shirt that morning but Sarah would check, she always did. It’s not as though Crockett did it on purpose, but when he couldn’t sleep at night and his skin was crawling all he could do was dig his nails in and pray for it to stop. The bugs weren’t there, Sarah always said they weren’t real, but his skin felt wrong and nothing would stop it. He had to scratch, he would tell her; it was the only way to make it stop.
“Crockett,” she greeted him cheerfully the second he stepped into the room, “Have a seat.”
“Hello, Sarah,” he replied as kindly as he could, though he was a bit distracted. His mood had been pretty low all morning, which was probably evident in his posture and demeanour.
“How have you been doing?
Crockett just shrugged, occupying himself with studying Sarah’s name badge. She had gotten a new one, the piece of plastic now boasting “psychiatry fellow”. She had been his secondary therapist since she was just in her second year of residency, so it was nice to see her climbing the ranks. It was well deserved, of course; Sarah had been the one constant in his most recent stay that kept Crockett relatively sane.
“Crockett?”
“Fine, I guess,” he muttered, “I haven’t had another episode… except last night was touch and go.”
“How so?” She was always so patient, not pushing too much, but she did need answers. If he was still having episodes on his antipsychotics, they may need to adjust the dosage again. He hoped she wouldn’t, though, because he hated the constant brain fog that came along with high dosing.
“A low, again.” he was fidgeting with his sleeve, not able to make eye contact at that point. His depression was a topic he never liked to discuss, since it was an aspect of his disorder he hadn’t been aware of until after Harper. Before it was just schizophrenia, a diagnosis that came about after a paranoia episode landed him in handcuffs in the security office at his university. However, when he hit a major low after Harper’s leukaemia was found, his primary psychiatrist noted that his diagnosis may be more than they expected. Schizoaffective disorder with the depression variant, he was told, and that was probably a factor in why he didn’t respond to the medications in the beginning.
“I see,” Sarah typed something onto his chart before looking up at him with gentle eyes, “Do you want to share how you felt?”
“I miss her,” he admitted softly, “It’s hard.”
“I know, I’m genuinely sorry, Crockett. Harper must have been so loved, I’m sure she misses you.”
“The meds…” Crockett huffed, “I can’t see her anymore.”
“Crockett, she’s not there,” Sarah’s words were gentle but still firm, as if he needed a reminder that his only daughter was dead before she even got to live a proper life. That reality was something that never left his mind, a nagging feeling that haunted him every single day. Meds or not, it was hard, but without seeing Harper daily, Crockett began to feel like he would forget her.
“Sarah, I need to see her.”
“I can’t do that, you know how unsafe it can be to take you off such a high dosage. I know you are upset but we can talk through this, okay?”
“No!” he was getting frustrated, even though he hated to yell at Sarah. She didn’t understand how important this was. He didn’t care if she was dead and she claimed the delusions weren’t real, he just wanted his daughter back. Even if it wasn’t the proper reality, maybe Crockett didn’t want to live in one without Harper. He told Sarah that much, upset that she would claim that she isn’t there anymore. She is always there; sitting on his bed and playing with her stuffed bunny, singing songs from those Disney shows she adored so much. Crockett saw her, held her close when the bad feelings returned and he felt like he was drowning. His baby would never leave him, she couldn't; Harper was all he had left.
“Hey,” Sarah spoke quickly when she recognized his agitation, “I’m sorry. Tell Harper I didn’t mean any harm, next time she’s around, okay? Can we start over, please?”
He frowned, knowing what she was doing, but nodded all the same. He didn’t want to fight with Sarah, she was one of the only staff members around here that he properly trusted. She didn’t want to upset him and she didn’t want to take his daughter away, it was just hard to recognize that sometimes. She wanted to help, to understand his mind, and maybe it was time for Crockett to let someone in again. It had been far too long.
“Start from the beginning,” she prompted as he slowly relaxed again, “How long ago did this low start?”
#q#I wrote this in record time after having a whole mental break down today <3#can you tell I’m not okay#goodbye friends i am gone#crockett marcel#harper marcel#sarah reese#maggie lockwood#april sexton#asks#anon#userglow#fractured reality#psych!au#my aus#cj add this to your fic masterpost
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Switching Things Up
Louis Tomlinson x Female!Reader
University AU / Non-Famous AU
Summary: Five times Louis almost asked you out and the one time you asked him.
Warnings: cursing, fluffffff, bit of angst, misunderstandings, and Louis pining.
Word Count: 5k words
ERT: 20 minutes
A/N: i'm so in love with Louis it's not even funny anymore. also, it's finally out!!!!!!!
Inspired by: "Kiss You" "18" "Infinity" by One Direction, that one scene in the This Is Us movie.
Masterlist | Taglist
Louis's First
It was just another usual day for Louis. Wake up at six o'clock, drink his tea, go to class, pick up the girls from school, have lunch all together, and start his shift at Toys 'R' Us.
He genuinely liked working there. He loved kids, it was fun to be surrounded by toys, and they were quite respectful of his uni hours, so overall, it was quite a nice gig.
He was working on the floor today, greeting costumers, seeing if they need help with anything, trying to keep the shelves tidy. It was quite a slow day so since he was done with all his homework he took some time to play with the toys a bit.
"Okay, they've got to be here somewhere. Don't worry, we'll find you one just like it."
He lifted his head from where it was bowed over one of the pianos in the lower shelves, giving up on trying to get it to be straight and cracking his knuckles a bit.
The woman sounded pretty young and her voice was very nice so he started playing a random tune on the piano that was a bit more level with him (and sounded better too), just waiting for her to round the corner and spot him.
"Auntie, look, it's right there!"
The girl that passed right by him was absolutely divine. He'd never seen anyone as gorgeous as her and if the way his heart stuttered in his chest was any indication, his body seemed to agree. He straightened his shirt and ran his hands through his hair before turning around, ready to offer his help and maybe get her number after.
And if he pouted when she walked right past him with not the smallest reaction, nobody will ever know.
Louis's Second
He sat on a wooden bench as he waited in front of his youngest sisters' primary school. He was among parents and nannies, waiting for the bell to go off and the children to leave. His fingers tapped a random beat on his thigh while he hummed a melody that's been floating in his brain for a few minutes, trying to match some words to it.
So tell me, girl, if every time we touch
You get this kind of rush
He was about to take out his phone to write it down when a girl sat on the other side of the bench, taking out her headphones and putting them neatly into her bag.
But it wasn't just any girl.
It was the one he'd dubbed 'Future Mrs. Tommo', the girl from Toys 'R' Us. He refused to let her go this time, but he had no idea how to start the conversation.
That is, until she took out a familiar-looking binder, flipping it until she reached her desired page and started filling it out. It had been a mere thirty seconds before she started frowning.
He's never been so grateful to have chosen music as his minor.
"Are you in Charlton's class?"
The girl looked at him and he momentarily froze in place as his blue eyes met her (y/e/c) ones.
"Yeah, are you in his class?"
"Not anymore, I had him last year, though, he's a prick."
She huffed out a laugh and leaned back on the bench.
"Tell me about it, we've been talking about the Renaissance Era for two months and he still hasn't gotten to the interesting part."
"I thanked every deity imaginable that I got Natalie this year, I don't think I could do another year of that old man."
She turned to him and cocked her head.
"I've never heard of a 'Natalie' before."
"Natalie Dubois, she's a new teacher from France. Got a bit of a weird accent but she's a hell of a good teacher, and fun too, she gives us a bit more freedom, nothing like Charlton."
"What year are you?"
"Third, you?"
"Second."
He nodded and she tapped her pen against her binder.
"What're you studying?"
He was quite happy that she kept the conversation going.
"Drama major, music minor."
"Very artistic."
"I live to entertain. What about you?"
"Psychology major, music minor."
"Ooh, a brain doctor, I've always wondered if Psych majors could identify psychopaths from a single conversation."
She laughed at that and he felt his heart wanting to beat out of his chest. He wanted to record that sound so he could listen to it all the time. Use it as a ringtone, a melody for his next song, his alarm in the morning. He was positive he'd wake up in a much better mood if that's what brought him out of his slumber.
Unfortunately, he was interrupted before he could even ask for her number, or name, mind you, by the children's excited cheers.
Sooner than he would have liked, a little black-haired boy came running out and into her arms, Phoebe and Daisy only a couple steps behind.
"It was nice talking to you, I'll see you around!"
He could only wish her luck with that idiot teacher before she was gone and he had to care for his two little girls.
Louis's Third
The music room was quiet as he sat in front of the piano. He took out his notebook and started to play, following the notes messily scribbled on it.
I got a heart, and I got a soul, believe me, I will use them both
We made a start, be it a false one, I know
Baby I don't want to feel alone
He tried out, but something felt off. He tried a different note for the end, content with the way it sounded and scribbling it onto the notebook right after.
So kiss me where I lay down, my hands pressed to your cheeks
A long way from the playground
He frowned, changing a few notes here and there.
It sounded better, but there was still something missing.
"Try a key higher, it might sound better."
He heard her voice from the doorway, heart almost beating out of his chest for two entirely different reasons, though he chose to focus on the "I was startled" one instead of the "My dream girl is here" one.
He did as she told him though, and it did sound better.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome."
She looked entirely too pretty when she smiled. He wondered if the sun was really necessary given that she smiled bright enough to light up this galaxy and the next. He busied himself with writing the changes in his notebook while she went from table to table, searching up and down for something he wasn't aware of. He secretly hoped she wouldn't find it, just so he could stare at her for a bit longer.
"How're classes with Charlton going? Still a prick?"
"The day that man stops being a prick, angels will be falling from the sky."
He didn't see her fall, but he was pretty sure she was an angel.
"A-ha!"
He saw her lift a blue journal, the word 'Songs' beautifully calligraphed on it in gold. She put it back in her bag and approached him so she was standing right behind him, reading the words in his notebook.
He felt her shoulder grazing his and smelled her perfume. It was fruity and sweet. Peaches, maybe?
"That's a beautiful song, you're very talented."
He felt his cheeks heat up at the praise.
"Thanks."
He took a deep breath. This is it. He's gonna do it. He's gonna ask her out.
"Hey, I was wondering-"
"Shit!"
She got up in a flash and took her backpack from where she had put it down next to the seat.
"I'm gonna be late for my appointment but hold that thought 'til we meet again?"
She looked so sorry that he couldn't bear to tell her no.
Louis's Fourth
"I'm telling you, Niall, she's the most perfect girl to have ever walked this Earth."
He sighed as he faceplanted onto the couch, the blonde still strumming his guitar as if Louis wasn't having an existential crisis a mere six inched away from him.
"You don't even know her name."
"I'll just call her mine."
The punch that landed on his arm was deserved, he'll admit it.
"The way I'm seeing it, you just need to find out who she is and ask her out, it's really not that hard."
"But I don't know where to find her."
"Wrong, you know that she picks up her nephew at midday. A nephew that goes to the same school as your little sisters. Just figure out the kid's name, find the school records, and trace it back to her. Easy."
He lifted his head from the pillow and glared at Niall.
"That's illegal."
He shrugged.
"Most importantly, though, I'm awful with computers so we'd need to find someone to do it for us."
"I know a guy."
He nodded, that would be plan B, assuming they find a plan A first.
The door opened to the sound of Harry's amazing rendition of Juice, and Louis smiled unconsciously.
"Nialler, you home?"
"Living room!"
The brunette walked into the room and fist-bumped them, lifting Louis's legs so he could slide under them and sit.
"Why do you look like a kicked puppy?"
"I met the girl of my dreams but I don't know her name and have no idea how to contact her."
Unlike Niall, Harry was much more the romantic type. He believed in fate, love at first sight, and all that stupid shit in the books he read his sisters every night. It was no surprise when he gave him the most poetic, love-filled piece of advice Louis had ever heard.
"You just need to have faith, Lou. If she's the one for you then the universe will find a way to get your paths to cross again. Before you know it you'll be married with four kids and a cat, living on a little farm with a giant trampoline in your backyard."
"How did I end up with you two as my best friends? I either get a 'break into a primary school' or 'trust the universe', there is no in-between."
Niall laughed loudly and Harry patted his calves reassuringly before they heard the door open and their friends' voices echoing in the small flat.
"Hey, boys?"
"Living room!"
Liam came in with a couple of packs of beer, followed by Zayn and a third person whose footsteps he didn't recognize.
(Because yes, he'd memorized the sound of his friends' footsteps, sue him.)
"Lou, stop sulking, it's time to drink beers and be happy."
"I'm deeply sorry if my existential crisis is bothering you, Zayn, I'll try to suffer silently."
The laugh he heard made his breath hitch and his heart stutter in his chest.
He knew that laugh.
That laugh had been playing on a loop in Louis' brain for two weeks now.
He tried (read: failed miserably) to sit up naturally, though it looked a bit more forced than he wanted it to.
"Mystery Boy!"
She pointed at him with a gleeful expression on his face and if his soul hadn't left his body before, it sure had now.
"Hey."
Really? 'Hey'? That's the best he can do?
"I never caught your name."
She cocked her head to the side adorably, arm stretched over her knee from her place on the floor, leaning against the armchair.
"I never threw it."
It was stronger than him, he didn't even register his comment until she started laughing and he felt his cheeks burn up, the overwhelming sense of having fucked everything up taking over him.
"Drama majors, always clowning around."
He let out a relieved breath and smiled when she didn't seem to take any offense to it.
"You guys know each other?"
Liam, lovely Liam, looking like a confused puppy but bless his soul for asking because it made her speak and Louis loved hearing her voice so much, it sounded better than any music the world could provide.
"We've kind of met. I'm (Y/n), by the way."
(Y/n).
(Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n).
(Y/n) Tomlinson.
That had a nice ring to it.
A really nice ring to it.
Mrs. (Y/n) Tomlinson.
Perfect.
"Usually, this is the part where you tell me your name. I can't keep referring to you as 'Mystery Boy'."
She giggled and his cheeks heated up again, though he didn't mind embarrassing himself if it earned him a laugh from her every time.
"I'm Louis. Tomlinson. Louis Tomlinson."
"Nice to formally meet you, Louis."
He smiled and thanked the sun, moon, and stars for this opportunity. Because really, there wasn't a better opportunity than this one.
She's here.
With him.
(And his friends, but who cares about them?)
And he finally knew her name.
He could ask her out.
No fear.
No time-clock.
No hesitation.
"Here's your juice, love."
"Thanks, babe."
She threw Zayn a kiss and he felt his heart break.
Oh no.
"Guys, I have to tell you about this girl I met."
Louis sat down properly on the couch so he had a clear view of Zayn's face.
"Ooh, gossip."
The younger boy swatted him before letting out a dreamy sigh.
"She's just- She's so pretty and kind, and her laugh, she has the most beautiful laugh I've ever heard. She's a psych major so she always has something interesting to say and her friends are so cool. She's... She's just perfect."
Louis's Fifth
And perfect she is.
Louis left the flat right after he realized that the girl he'd been pining over was the same girl Zayn had been seeing, muttering about homework and essays and studying or whatever.
Now here he was, working the register at Toys 'R' Us, his usually bright and genuine smile replaced by an incredibly awkward and forced one, trying not to let the heartbreak eat him alive.
"Tommo!"
His coworker came over to him.
"Switch with me, James asked to see you."
Great, and now he was probably gonna get sacked from the only job he ever liked.
He walked with a frown on his face to his manager's office and sat down on the chair, waiting for him to finish what looked like a very intense phone call about... mechanical kittens?
He hung up a couple of minutes later and turned to Louis, resting his elbows on the desk.
"Louis. Louis, Louis, Louis. D'you mind telling me why my best worker's been sulking all day?"
He shrunk down a bit on the chair, suddenly feeling very small. Toys 'R' Us is a magical place, workers are supposed to be happy all the time.
"Just... Stuff."
"It's okay to be sad, but we worry about you. I mean, some of our regular costumers asked if you were alright cause you weren't jumping and joking. Just tell me what's wrong so I can try to help."
He let out a breath and let his head fall onto the desk.
"I met this girl and she's amazing, and kind, and funny, and just overall perfect."
"So you're sulking because you met the love of your life?"
"No! I'm sulking because the love of my life is dating one of my best mates."
He froze for a while, definitely not expecting that.
"What?"
"Zayn's dating her. I found out yesterday."
Jame took a deep breath and got up from his chair so he could get closer to Louis.
"Oh no."
"Oh yes."
"Not a Jimmy Hug."
"Shut up, you deserve one right now, no matter how much you like to pretend you hate them."
When he came out of his boss's office, more relaxed and with a small smile on his face, he immediately spotted you next to the pianos.
He took his break at that moment and only returned when he saw you leave through his place in the alleyway right next to the parking lot.
Your First
You took a deep breath and tightened your grip on your nephew's hand, steeling yourself before entering the store.
"We have to get one with brown fur, just like Summer!"
You promised little Lucas that if he behaved at the doctor's you'd get him get a new plushie, a German Shepherd, just like your parents' dog.
"Okay, they've got to be here somewhere. Don't worry, we'll find you one just like it."
You looked up and down aisles, trying to find the plushies but not knowing where to look. You could hear someone playing the piano a couple of feet away and let yourself be lulled by the sound of the song, you'd always loved Tchaikovsky.
"Auntie, look, it's right there!"
Your nephew pointed at the shelves just on the other side of the piano (and the beautiful pianist standing in front of it). You let Lucas pull you towards the shelves and search carefully for the perfect plushie while you tried to not let the man get to you.
He was gorgeous. Like, model tier, plaster his face on your walls gorgeous.
And you were shy.
So you dragged the time out and mentally asked him to approach you, pouting when you realized he couldn't read your thoughts and your nephew was asking to leave.
Your Second
You speed-walked to the school, still riled up because of your class with bloody Charlton.
You wanted nothing more than to sit down on the bench, listen to your music, and people-watch until your nephew got out.
But you weren't expecting him to be there.
You were still too shy to approach him so you just took out your headphones and sat on the other side of the bench, taking out your binder and filling out a few things before purposely stopping somewhere and tapping your pen on the paper, pouting and wishing that he'd 'save you' from your boredom.
"Are you in Charlton's class?"
Bingpot!
You looked at him and were temporarily taken aback by just how blue his eyes were, but forced yourself to speak. You weren't gonna get anywhere by keeping quiet.
"Yeah, are you in his class?"
"Not anymore, I had him last year, though, he's a prick."
You huffed out a laugh and leaned back on the bench, trying to look nonchalant.
"Tell me about it, we've been talking about the Renaissance Era for two months and he still hasn't gotten to the interesting part."
"I thanked every deity imaginable that I got Natalie this year, I don't think I could do another year of that old man."
You turned to him and cocked your head.
"I've never heard of a 'Natalie' before."
That's a lie, you knew who she was, you'd even interacted with her.
"Natalie Dubois, she's a new teacher from France. Got a bit of a weird accent but she's a hell of a good teacher, and fun too, she gives us a bit more freedom, nothing like Charlton."
"What year are you?"
"Third, you?"
"Second."
He nodded and you tapped your pen against your binder.
"What're you studying?"
"Drama major, music minor."
"Very artistic."
"I live to entertain. What about you?"
"Psychology major, music minor."
"Oh, a brain doctor, I've always wondered if Psych majors could identify psychopaths from a single conversation."
You laughed at that. Usually, you hated when people were that shallow about your job but when he said it, it didn't sound shallow or mock-ish. It sounded like a legitimate concern, like those things you think of at three in the morning when you can't sleep.
You were interrupted by the school bell and cursed mentally to not have gotten here earlier so you could talk to him more. Your nephew came running towards you and two little girls followed, walking towards Louis. He looked so good with children clinging to him that you had to physically extract yourself from that situation before you said or did something embarrassing.
"It was nice talking to you, I'll see you around!"
Your Third
You walked to the music room, praying that your song notebook was left behind there. You don't know what you'd do without it. It has every single one of your creations there.
You heard someone play the piano and groaned. You were way too sleep-deprived to deal with human interaction.
But this wasn't just any human interaction now, was it? Because Mystery Boy was there.
(He's been dubbed Mystery Boy in your head since you have no idea what his actual name is.)
You stood in the doorway for a while, notebook be damned, just watching him play, then frown, then play again, and light up like a happy little puppy once he found the right melody. Until he reached a complicated part and couldn't find the right combination.
"Try a key higher, it might sound better."
He jumped a bit and you felt bad for scaring him, but the way he blushed after was cute. He didn't answer, just did as you advised and smiled once he found that it sounded like he wanted it to.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome."
You smiled and the blush on his face was entirely too adorable and you went from table to table, pretending you didn't remember exactly where you were sitting that morning just so you could spend a bit longer than necessary in his presence.
"How're classes with Charlton going? Still a prick?"
"The day that man stops being a prick, angels will be falling from the sky."
You couldn't stall anymore, it would just be awkward at this point.
"A-ha!"
You showed off your journal before putting it back in your bag and going down the stairs of the auditorium so you could stand right next to him.
Deciding to be subtle but a little more daring than usual, you stood next to him, shoulders grazing while you read the words on his journal.
He smelled heavenly, like cologne and deodorant, and something that had to be entirely him. You wanted to bury yourself in that scent.
"That's a beautiful song, you're very talented."
You'd never get tired of watching him blush.
"Thanks."
You heard him take a deep breath just as your eyes went to the clock and you remembered your doctor's appointment with Lucas, he had to get the second dose for his shots and you were the only one who could get him to quiet down.
"Hey, I was wondering-"
"Shit!"
You got up in a flash and took the backpack from where you had put it down next to the seat.
"I'm gonna be late for my appointment but hold that thought 'til we meet again?"
He answered a small yes and you dashed out of the room.
Your Fourth
You followed Zayn to his friend's flat off-campus. You had met him a couple of months ago through Gigi, your best friend. Those two had been flirting for ages and it honestly made you sick, but Zayn was an easy-going person and you got along great, so when you mentioned that you had plans of getting drunk alone tonight, he offered to take you to his friend's house so you could get drunk with some company.
You entered the flat with Zayn and who you now knew to be Liam, saying hello to the two men in the room and tilting your head in questioning at the man lying face down on the couch.
"Lou, stop sulking, it's time to drink beers and be happy."
"I'm deeply sorry if my existential crisis is bothering you, Zayn, I'll try to suffer silently."
You couldn't stop the laugh bubbling from your chest as you sat down next to the armrest.
He sat up way too quickly to be safe and you smiled brightly once you realized who it was.
"Mystery Boy!"
It was fate, it had to be. This was the universe's way of telling you that you belonged together.
"Hey."
You giggled at his awkward greeting.
"I never caught your name."
"I never threw it."
You started laughing at his sassiness. If you weren't completely smitten before you sure were now.
"Drama majors, always clowning around."
"You guys know each other?"
Liam asked and you jumped into an explanation.
"We've kind of met. I'm (Y/n), by the way."
He said nothing for a couple of seconds and you worried you were being too forward.
"Usually, this is the part where you tell me your name. I can't keep referring to you as 'Mystery Boy'."
He blushed again, he seemed to be doing that a lot and you wondered if that was as unusual for him as it was for you to be this confident.
"I'm Louis. Tomlinson. Louis Tomlinson."
(Y/n) Tomlinson.
That had a nice ring to it.
A really nice ring to it.
Mrs. (Y/n) Tomlinson.
Perfect.
"Nice to formally meet you, Louis."
He smiled and you wanted to yell at the sun to hide because it was stopping you from seeing the true brightness of Louis's eyes.
"Here's your juice, love."
"Thanks, babe."
You threw Zayn a kiss and he rolled his eyes, already used to the fact that you were kind of nickname-addicted and very endearing.
And also kind of drunk, which is why he brought you the juice.
On second thought, that might be why you were being this confident.
You thought everything was going well, but as suddenly as it started, the object of your affection was out the door, muttering about appointments, or homework, or something you didn't understand, but that sure made you frown for the rest of the evening.
Your Fifth
You walked into Toys 'R' Us for two reasons that day.
The first is to get your nephew a birthday present.
The second is to (hopefully) see Louis.
You wanted to talk to him, the way he left the flat was strange, so you took advantage of the fact that you needed to get something from the store to try and see him.
You saw him go to the back as soon as you got here and decided to wait a bit for him to come back, looking at everything slower than you needed even though you knew exactly what to get. After fifteen minutes, you were pretty sure he wasn't going to come back. Maybe his shift ended already?
You took your present and left the store, looking around to see if you found him, to no avail.
The One
You marched to the door with only one goal in mind: ask Louis Tomlinson out on a date. It's been a week of him ignoring you, running away as soon as he saw you, barely answering your greetings and you were more than done.
If he wanted to turn you down, then it at least he would do it to your face, none of this ghosting nonsense. You don't want to spend the rest of your life thinking what might have been if you'd just reached out.
So, you talked to Niall, who gave you Louis's address and his schedule. You knew he was home and he had no way to escape you. He was babysitting his sisters, after all, so there was no way he could just run away.
You rang the doorbell and nervously wrang your hands in front of you, taking deep breaths and mentally going over what you wanted to say.
"I'll be right there! No, Daisy!"
His voice rang through the door and you smiled fondly at the sound, imagining him taking care of his sisters did something to you for some reason.
"Hi, sorry for the-"
He froze when he saw you, eyes going wide and mouth hanging open.
"Hi."
You said, and that seemed to bring him out of his stupor.
"(Y/n)."
"Yep."
"(Y/n)."
It seemed like he couldn't quite believe you were here.
"That's my name. Don't wear it out, though."
He shook his head and started stuttering his way through a response, trying to ask what you were doing here, at his house.
"Um, Niall told me where you lived. I had something I wanted to ask you."
When he didn't answer, you went for it.
"So, um, you've kind of been avoiding me lately which is quite unfortunate because I happen to like you... a lot... and so I-"
"Does Zayn know that?"
You were cut off in the middle of your rant and tilted your head confusingly at him.
"What?"
"Does Zayn know you 'like me a lot'?"
He looked angry, jaw clenched shut and arms crossed in front of his chest, which was no help to the attraction you felt towards him, that shirt did wonders for his biceps.
"Why should Zayn know about it?"
"Well, he's your boyfriend after all."
Wait, what?
"Well if he's my boyfriend then I should probably let Gigi know he's cheating."
He seemed to blanch at that.
"Gigi."
"Yeah. Gigi. You know, the girl he's been pining over since the beginning of the semester, they got together officially two weeks ago."
Only his sisters' voices could be heard.
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"So, um... you and Zayn... you're not..."
"Together? No."
You laughed and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear nervously.
"Would you like to go on a date with me?"
You snapped your head up and grinned devilishly.
"I believe I asked you first."
He laughed and took a step forward.
"Then I will most certainly go out with you, as long as you let me pay. Take it as an apology for how stupid I was."
"I guess that could be arranged."
He was so close you could smell his cologne. Still so, so tasty. Still so, so wonderful.
"Do I have to wait until the end of our first date to kiss you?"
"I think you've done enough waiting already."
"I think so too."
And he kissed you.
And you were happy.
here it is babes! finally out!
i hope you liked it and if you do, don’t forget to comment, reblog, like and stuff
have a nice day/morning/afternoon/night/whatever
-Love, Libby
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Let’s Hang Out Sometime
Prompt #1: Let’s Hang Out Sometime - Waking Up Restrained | Shackled
Word Count: 2596
Warnings: Blood | Non-Graphic Violence/Injuries
Synopsis: Peter wakes up in a cramped, stone cell, shackles clamped around his wrists. He only has one thought on his mind, escape.
Read Under the Cut | Read on AO3
Peter’s head pounded, the thud, thud, thud so loud that he could barely think straight. Groggily, and with great resistance from his muscles, he managed to lift his head and peeled open his eyes. He expected to be faced with blinding lights and have to squeeze them shut again, but he hadn’t prepared for the possibility of the room being just as dark as his closed eyes. In fact, he could hardly make out the wall opposite.
It was stone, that was for sure - the whole room was besides a heavy, metal door embedded in the wall to his left - ragged and uneven and so, so cold beneath his hands and feet. The air was musty and stale and smelled strongly of mould as if it, too, was trapped with Peter and had been for years before him. Now that he thought about it, the stone floor was definitely damp, and he could hear the drip of water falling from the ceiling in the far corner of the room. Not that the corner was far away in any sense, he could probably reach out and touch it if…
If his wrists weren’t shackled to the wall behind his back. Peter twisted around, the cuffs were thick, and the chain itself buried inside the stone, but they didn’t look to be vibranium. That was something. Then again, he wasn’t wearing his Spider-Man suit, and no one apart from Tony knew the truth about the Stark Internship.
Did they?
Sure, Peter hadn’t always been diligent guaranteeing no one discovered his secret identity, but that was because no one paid attention to a kid from Queens when superheroes were out pretty much every other day taking down hordes of aliens. Not even most other kids from Queens, only Ned really-
“No,” Peter muttered, “no, no, no.” He thought back, trying to remember how he got into this situation in the first place. He and Ned were walking home from school, talking about their plans to build his new Lego Deathstar and ignoring Flash speeding past them in his father’s car, when something collided with the back of his head. That would explain the throbbing. After that, there was only black.
Peter considered calling out for Ned to see if whoever these people were had taken him, too, to see if he was even still alive, but decided against it. There was a chance that could make everything worse; he wasn’t going to let that happen. Instead, he strained his ears, hoping super-senses would come in handy and earn some information from the captors.
Sure enough, a couple of gruff sounding voices floated down the hallway outside his cell.
“How do you know he’ll come?”
“We took his intern. Stark will take that as a personal attack. He’ll swoop in like he always does to play hero and save the day, and then…”
“Boom?”
“Boom.”
Peter swallowed. Boom didn’t sound like something he wanted to stick around to see.
“And what about us?”
“We’ll be long gone, dumbass.”
“Those kids?”
“Collateral damage.”
So, Ned was here. And they had to get out, sharpish. Without a second thought, Peter tensed his arms and yanked them apart, ripping the chain between them clean in half. He leapt to his feet, taking a second massaging his stiff muscles and jumping on the spot to psych himself up, pretending each bounce didn’t send a jolt of pain up the back of his head.
Even if his identity was a lost cause, Peter still wanted the element of surprise when it came to the upcoming fight, so he stepped up to the door and examined it closer. Metal. Again, not vibranium so he could’ve easily kicked it off its hinges had he wanted to; instead, he opted to take hold of the medieval style sliding lock and jerk it backwards, making sure to catch the shattered chunks of metal before they clattered to the floor. Tentatively, he reached out for the handle and pushed. The door edged open.
Peter took a breath, shaking out his hands. “Come on, Spider-Man,” he whispered under his breath. “Come on.” The rusted hinges of the door wailed as he opened it further and Peter dived back into his cell, back flat against the wall as scuffling sounded from down the hallway.
“What was that?”
“How should I know? Go check it out.”
Peter closed his eyes and took a few deep, steady breaths as he listened to the sound of their heavy boots creep closer, the rustle of their clothes and thump of their heartbeats.
“The door’s open.”
“What?”
“The door. It’s open.”
“It’s old, probably broken. The intern’s still shackled, just go close it again.”
Peter took one last breath and pressed his hand over his mouth, not daring even to blink as the captor’s shadow slunk into the cell. A moment later, the man himself. There was a brief second where the man looked at Peter, and Peter looked at the man. He was dressed all in black, a bandana covering all but his eyes and a hat pulled covered his forehead. At his hip, a gloved hand hovered over a knife sheath.
But it was only a second, the man’s eyes grew wide, and Peter used the momentary shock to his advantage, reaching forward and clasping his head in his hands before bringing his knee up to meet it. The man crumpled in Peter’s arms, not dead, but certainly not getting up anytime soon. As quietly as possible, Peter dragged him further into the room and propped him against the corner with the drip, just for that small win of knowing he’d be annoyed when he wakes up.
“Sullivan?” Peter’s heart hammered in his chest, that voice was closer than he’d hoped, and he didn’t know how many more people could be outside. “Sullivan, what’s taking so long? Just close the damn door.” Peter looked at the cuffs still around his wrists, the remains of the chains hanging down. He didn’t dare move for the sound they would make. “Fine, I’m coming in.”
Peter grinned, announcing your entrance? Rookie move. That gave him a little boost of hope.
This guy was clearly on edge already, not only from their unsure voice, but he already had his knife tightly gripping in his hand. Still, there was a second where he froze at the sight of Peter standing over his teammate’s body. “Hi,” Peter smiled, “I’d love to hang out a little longer but-”
The captor lunged forward, knife out as if he were in a fencing match. Peter’s spidey-sense forewarned him, he stepped to the side and twirled around so he’d switched places with the attacker. “That was rude.” Peter aimed a roundhouse kick at their outstretched arm, foot connecting with their wrist with a crunch. The knife fell to the floor. “I wasn’t finished.”
With all his strength, Peter shoved the man back against the hard stone wall. He whimpered as he went down, Peter followed him, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him slightly off the ground. “Tell me why you did this,” he demanded, lip curled in a futile attempt at appearing intimidating. “What do you want.”
The man spat. Said nothing.
“You got a bomb. I heard you talking. Where is it?”
He let out a gargled laugh, a twisted smile on his face. “Stark will never know what hit him.” Peter faltered at the thought, the man used it to overpower him and lurched for his knife, twisting out of Peter’s grip and slashing at his calf. Peter bit back a yelp as blood seeped from the wound, he couldn’t risk alerting any other guards.
A scream echoed down the hallway, both Peter and the man turned to face the door. It was, unmistakably, Ned.
“Alright,” Peter growled, fixing back on the man. “I’ve had it.” He leapt up, fingertips sticking to the ceiling, and swung his legs forward so his feet his the man square in the chest. He stumbled and fell back, smashing the back of his head against the wall and fell limp to the floor.
Peter lowered himself down carefully and examined the gash running the length of his calf, it was deep and bleeding steadily, but Peter could still walk so it must be okay. Probably. Right now, he had to focus on Ned. He crept back to the doorway and peered both ways down the corridor, gentle gas lights swayed from the ceiling and lit the way. Empty.
Silently, Peter padded down the hallway. For some unknown reason, the attackers had taken his shoes and socks, leaving the rough stone to cut his bare feet. Identical doors lined the hall; Peter hovered outside each one listen out for breathing or heartbeats from inside.
A thud, followed by another scream. Peter sprinted towards the sound and flung the door open without a second thought. The room was the same as Peter’s only Ned was still shackled to the wall, blood trickling from his forehead, wide eyes staring at Peter. Also staring, three more captors, all dressed head to toe in black, all armed with knives.
“Peter?” Ned’s voice was small, but hopeful. The single word seemed to launch everyone into action. All three ran at Peter, wildly swinging their weapons as Peter bounced from wall to wall - to ceiling - to avoid them. Almost, at least, while Peter aimed a punch to the side of a captor’s head, another sliced open his side. This time, he let out a scream of pain and allowed the adrenaline to aid his fighting.
One guy was already down. Another, charged forward, knife raised, Peter dodged to the side and their knife plunged into the abdomen of the other. The assailant jumped back, into Peter’s fist, while the injured hobbled away. Peter let them. They weren’t making it far, anyway.
“Peter,” Ned said again, though his time his voice was filled with awe, maybe a little fear, “What the fuck, dude?”
“Uh,” Peter knelt beside Ned, gripped the chain of his shackles, and yanked him free. “This wasn’t the way I planned to tell you.”
“You’re Spider-Man?” Ned exclaimed, rubbing his wrists as Peter helped him to his feet. “Like the Spider-Man? Fought the Rouge Avengers, Spider-Man? Hero of Queens, Spider-Man?”
“Yeah, I guess I am. But we need to go before Mister Stark get’s here.”
Ned’s eyes grew wide. “Shit, yeah. They said something about a trap-”
“Explosion, I think. They want Mister Stark dead, and don’t care about who gets caught in the crossfire.”
“Yup,” Ned nodded furiously, already bee-lining for the door. “Let’s get outta here.”
Peter clutched one hand to his side as they jogged down the hallway, a fruitless attempt at stemming the blood flow. “Are you alright?” Peter asked. “Did they hurt you?”
“Nothing too bad,” Ned said grimly. “Coulda been a lot worse. Coulda been stabbed,” he looked Peter up and down, “twice.”
Peter grimaced. “I’m used to it, let’s just hurry.” He picked up the pace and led Ned towards the very, very, distant sounds of the city.
“That’s terrifying, Peter. Terrifying.”
“You sound just like Mister Stark.”
“He knows? And he still lets you intern?”
They came to a fork in the tunnel, one path heading left, the other veering right. “Ned, this is the internship.” Peter ran to the left; the bustle of the city was louder that way.
“Right, That makes sense.” Ned followed close behind. He eyed the way Peter hobbled up the inclining tunnel. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yep,” Peter replied a little too quickly. “Anyway, It should be right around-“ They turned a corner, and were greeted by the sight of the tunnel exit, far off city lights glittering in what looked to be a river, obscured by thick trees. “Here.”
“Great.” Ned went ahead. Peter couldn’t blame him; he was more than eager to get out of this damp, musty old cave they appeared to be in. As Ned neared the mouth, Peter’s spidey sense exploded out of nowhere, he dived forward and caught his fist in the back of Ned’s shirt, stopping him midstep.
“Look,” he nodded down at a thin, all but invisible wire running the length of the mouth, a few inches off the ground. “Must be the trap they laid for Mister Stark.”
“Shit… I nearly tripped it.” Ned’s foot hovered over the wire. He made a deal of stepping over it, Peter followed. “We’re free!”
“Yeah, but we need to contact Mister Stark before he goes and gets himself blown up for me. Do you have your phone?”
Ned tapped his pockets, face falling. “They must have taken it.”
“Mine too,” Peter sighed. He looked across the water at the city he could recognise from anywhere. “We‘ll just have to get to a phone box or something.”
“Do they even still exist?”
“I don’t know, Ned.” Peter threw his arms up, adrenaline wearing off and leaving him tired and cranky. “It’s that, or go all the way to the compound and hope he’s still there.”
“Or not…” Ned pointed upwards towards the city. A faint dot of light, steadily growing larger. As the Iron Man suit became visible, the boys jumped and waved their arms, trying to attract Tony’s attention, but the trees were too dense and Tony too laser-focused on the cave. “He’s not gonna see us.”
Peter ran towards the cave, yelling for Ned to stay put. Ahead of him, Tony landed in his signature pose before straightening up and heading for the cave mouth. Peter closed in. “Wait! Mister Stark, don’t-!”
Tony tripped the wire. Peter’s warning came too late to stop it... but not too late for him to react. Tony whirled around, thrusters already engaged, and flew directly at Peter, scooping him up under the arms and flying high into the air. A fireball chased them up, and Tony climbed higher still so Peter remained unharmed.
“Kid,” Tony flipped open his faceplate once the blast had dissipated. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“I’m fine, Mister Stark.” Peter glanced down, the trees closest to the cave’s mouth were burning, flames licking along the branches and illuminating Ned beneath them, the force had knocked him back onto his hands, and ash coated his face. But he was alive. “Could you, um, put me down now?”
“Right,” Tony cleared his throat, “of course.” He lowered them down, the second Peter’s feet touched the ground, Ned enveloped him in a hug. Tony dematerialised his suit, standing awkwardly to the side.
Pete reached out and grabbed Tony’s arm. “Come on, Mister Stark. You’re not getting out of this one.” He pulled Tony into the hold, smiling at how normal it felt.
A female voice cut through the moment. “Boss, I hate to be a killjoy, but Mister Parker requires urgent medical attention.”
Tony sprang back, already assessing Peter for injuries and swearing under his breath. “I thought you said you were fine!”
“I am fine!” Peter shot back. He looked down at his blood-soaked shirt. “Ish.”
“Fineish is not good enough, Fri, get me medical over here, now.”
“It’s not that bad, really-“
“It’s pretty bad, dude,” Ned admitted. “You could barely walk outta that cave.”
“Snitch.”
“What! I don’t want you to die. I just found out my best friend is Spider-Man! This is the best day of my life.”
Tony turned to Ned, an eyebrow raised. “You got kidnapped.”
“Yeah. And then Spider-Man saved me.”
Tony sighed as the sound of the Quinjet approached, shaking his head. “Kids.”
#whumptober2020#no1#let's hang out some time#waking up restrained#shackled#marvel#irondad#blood tw#stabbing tw#TDA whumptober
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Spoiled
Category: Mild Romantic Fluff
Fandom: My Hero Academia
Characters: Mirio Togata, Nejire Hado
Hey, everyone! I’m super happy to participate in the first MiriNeji Week! Here’s my story for Day 1, for the prompt “Confession”! Enjoy!
Mirio inhaled sharply through his nose as he straightened his bowtie for the millionth time in the floor-length mirror spanning the back door of his closet. He flashed his winning smile to his reflection, but it crinkled at the edges, betraying his anxiety. Come on, Mirio. You’re just going to tell Nejire that you love her. It’s not that big of a deal! he told himself in a pitiful attempt to psych himself up. It didn’t really work; his smile remained limp and strained, and his stomach continued to bubble with unease, spreading the bitter acid of apprehension over his tongue. It’s not that big of a deal… he repeated like a mantra, running his arms over the fabric of his dress shirt. It was crinkled, because he couldn’t decide if he wanted to let the sleeves hang loose or button them around his elbows. In a last-minute decision, he clasped them at the elbows to display the bulge of his muscular arms and exited the room before he changed his mind again.
Mirio had possessed feelings for the beautiful periwinkle-haired girl for some time now, but he’d always kept them to himself; life at U.A. was stressful, after all, and he hadn’t wanted to add to the chaos with a relationship. Graduation was looming near, however, and Mirio had decided it was high time to lay all his cards on the table and get an answer from Nejire. With some calculated smooth-talking, he’d convinced Nejire to go out with him on a “platonic friend date.” It’d taken every ounce of his charisma to persuade her against inviting Tamaki. He loved going out as a threesome, but having the boy along as a third wheel didn’t quite align with his plans for the evening.
Mirio took the dorm steps two at a time, briskly descending the steps to the common room. A few male students jeeringly wolf-whistled at him as he strolled to the glass doors and adjusted his suspender straps. Mirio clicked his tongue and tossed them a sardonic grin, playfully snapping the fabric bands against his broad chest.
“Mock me all you want, gentlemen, but who’s the one going out on a date here?” he taunted haughtily.
“Yeah, but if we were going out, at least the girl would know she was going on a date!” one of them shot back pompously. A pink haze blossomed on Mirio’s cheeks as he was effectively had. Another round of raucous laughter echoed in the common room, making his face take on a deeper hue.
“All right, all right, laugh it up,” he snapped irritatedly. One of his friends draped themselves over the back of the couch and winked at him.
“All right, we rest our case. Seriously, Mirio, good luck. We hope it goes well.” Mirio’s small amount of ire immediately dissipated, and he grinned broadly. Before he could thank them for their well wishes, he heard wedges clunking against the wood stairs. He whirled around just in time to see the swish of Nejire’s white and blue floral-patterned dress as she descended the steps. His mouth fell open in a shameless gawk at the way her bright blue hair whirled around her shapely hips, and the way her eyes sparkled brightly above her happy smile. Mirio recounted Tamaki’s description of her after the school showcase, calling her a “fairy.” In that moment, Mirio thought the moniker fell dreadfully short, because Nejire was nothing short of a radiant goddess.
“Ready?” she chirped as she skipped happily over to him. Mirio’s eyes fluttered a bit as he struggled to find his words, but after a second, he managed to return to his senses and utter a quick “yep!” With a cheeky grin, he offered Nejire his arm, and she cooed delightedly.
“Oooh, Mirio, you’re really playing up the whole date thing, aren’tcha? Well, don’t mind if I do!” she giggled and hooked her slim arm around the thick muscle of his forearm. Mirio flashed the other guys a glare over his shoulder as they whispered and snickered under their breaths, then hurriedly pushed the glass door of the exit open before they could ruin his carefully crafted plan. Nejire pressed close to him as they walked out of the dormitory, a smile on her lips all the while.
It was about six in the evening; the height of the day had long since passed, and so the air was pleasantly cool with just enough of the fading warmth of the sun to keep the temperature comfortable. The sun bubbled just above the horizon, eclipsed by the residential houses across the street from the massive school campus. With their off-campus passes tucked into the back pocket of his slacks just in case a patrolling teacher harried them, the two third-years proceeded towards the towering walls of the front gate. It was then that Nejire decided to speak up.
“Soooo, Mirio, where are we going?” The blond flashed her a brazen grin.
“Well, now, I’d hate to ruin the surprise,” he explained mysteriously. His will almost wavered when she poked her lips out in a displeased pout, but he remained steadfast. With a good-natured chuckle, he threw his head back a little and beamed proudly. “But I’ll give you a hint! I don’t skimp on dates, so I’m treating you to some first-class cuisine tonight!” Nejire trilled delightedly.
“Wow, I feel so special!” she sighed dreamily as she laid her free hand against her light pink cheek. She fluttered her eyelashes and smiled jubilantly. “Keep it up, and I might be fooled that I really am your girlfriend, Mirio~” She was teasing, but Mirio couldn’t help but grin triumphantly to himself. He already had a foot in the door.
Little do you know, that’s exactly what I want, Nejire! With her pleasant attitude and positive responses, Mirio found his anxieties melting away. So far, so good!
The young couple walked the short distance to the downtown area, which was lined with a multitude of shops and restaurants. When Mirio stopped at a street corner where a building was ringed in iron-wrought fencing and laughter drifted out of a gazeboed outdoor eating area, Nejire exclaimed in awe. “Wow, Mirio, is this place what I think it is?” Mirio grinned proudly at the periwinkle-haired girl.
“That’s right! It’s the highest-rated restaurant in the area. It’s been a while since someone treated you to a good time, so I thought, why not splurge a little?” he winked while nudging her in the ribs with his elbow. Nejire giggled, and though her demeanor was usually bubbly, Mirio could tell that she was really excited by the elated twinkle in her eyes. She tugged excitedly on his arm as she scampered through the gate, pleading, “Let’s go! Let’s go!” Mirio laughed joyfully at her excitement and trotted after her.
Classical music floated on the air as Mirio and Nejire walked through the elegant glass doors. Mirio gave his name to the usher, who promptly delivered them to a table in the center of the spacious restaurant. Mirio graciously pulled back Nejire’s seat for her, making her smile pleasantly and throw him a demure flutter of her eyelashes. Mirio placed an order for two glasses of water after seating himself across from her, and then folded his hands on the table to smile broadly. “So? Living up to your expectations so far?”
“Hmm, I would’ve expected a live band,” she shrugged teasingly. Mirio chuckled at her joke, and Nejire then smiled sweetly at him. “Thanks, Mirio. I really appreciate it. I’m enjoying myself already!”
“Yeah, well, you’ll enjoy yourself immensely once we get some food on the table, if the rumors are true,” Mirio joked and picked up the menu to peruse the contents. This venue was one of the ritziest in town, and that was reflected by the impressive price tags attached to the various meals. Not that Mirio cared; his full intentions were to spoil Nejire, so he really wouldn’t care if he came out of this with his wallet much emptier. You only live once, though, right?
“Wow, that is an impressive salad,” Nejire praised with wide eyes when the waiter set a very aesthetically-pleasing bowl of mixed vegetables, grilled chicken, and tangy vinaigrette in front of her. Mirio had contented himself with some soup, and he smiled at Nejire as he gestured playfully at her with his spoon.
“Told ya,” he chuckled. Nejire wiggled her shoulders as she sampled some of the crunchy leaves, throwing him a wink.
“You sure know how to treat a lady, Mirio. How come you haven’t landed yourself a gal yet?” A sudden sweat bloomed over Mirio’s body, and he laughed as he tugged at the collar of his shirt, finding it already damp with perspiration. Hehe, well, hopefully, I’ll have one by the end of the night, he thought.
“Eh, y’know. Priorities,” Mirio answered vaguely and busied himself with his soup to save himself from further interrogation. Nejire eyed him suspiciously, but thankfully decided to deviate from her normal tendencies and drop the conversation. Mirio and Nejire were never one for awkward conversation, so they resumed the pleasantries soon enough, chattering all through dinner and dessert with bright smiles.
After they stepped out of the restaurant with full bellies (and a flatter wallet, in Mirio’s case) into the twilight, Nejire propped her chin on his shoulder with a pout.
“I don’t wanna go home yet! Let’s do something else, Mirio.” He brightened visibly at her suggestion. The dinner hadn’t really given him a good opportunity to profess his feelings, so her desire to continue out into the town afforded him another chance. The restaurant shared a border with a community flower garden. He gestured with his chin at the garden.
“How about there?”
“Sure!” she cried. Mirio yelped when she yanked on his arm and forced him into a brisk walk. The iron-wrought gate creaked as Nejire pushed it open. The scent of damp earth and aromatic flowers immediately greeted them, making Nejire sigh in exultation. “They’re so pretty!” she cooed in delight. She released his hand to scuttle over to a rose bush, drawing her long, thick hair over her shoulder to lean down and deeply inhale the rich aroma of the bright red bloom. “Mmmm…” Mirio watched her with a sweet, endeared expression. Nejire tossed a smile over her shoulder, sapphire eyes gleaming.
“Nejire…” Her name fell from his lips without him realizing it. The girl blinked and straightened up, running her hands over her beautiful light blue hair.
“Yes?” Mirio gulped and shuffled his feet shyly, suddenly finding it difficult to speak. Nejire cocked her head to the side and strode over to stand in front of him. “Mirio? What is it?” He rubbed his sweating palms against his slacks compulsively, then abruptly grabbed both of hers.
“Nejire… Tonight… It wasn’t just a platonic thing. Not for me,” Mirio admitted quickly. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Nejire’s face, so he stared at her hands, watching his thumbs slowly caress the tops of her dainty hands. He felt them grow rigid beneath his fingers. A sinking feeling rose in his belly when she tugged one of them away, but shock replaced it when she cupped his cheek. It slowly trailed down to his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze. He found it kind, welcoming- loving.
“That’s good. It wasn’t for me either.”
“Really?” His jaw nearly hit the cobblestone path at her startling confession. Nejire laughed airily at his reaction.
“I knew something was up when you were so insistent against Tama joining.” Mirio scowled, ashamed at his obliviousness. Of course she would’ve known… Nejire smiled kindly and began stroking his jawline gently with the flat of her hand. “Don’t feel bad. I said yes, didn’t I? I really did have a great time and would love to go out with you again- as a couple.” Mirio’s heart thumped against his ribcage with a great big leap, and his face turned as pink as the carnations behind him.
“Ya mean it?”
“Mhmm.” Mirio was still holding her other hand, so he grinned cheekily and brought it to his mouth to press a light kiss against her skin. Nejire’s eyes lidded as she watched him perform the intimate gesture.
“I’ll be looking forward to it. How about next Friday?”
Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!
Tag List: @mirinejiweek @deliathedork @simplybakugou @lovelusional @wesparklebitch
#mirineji week#mirinejiweek#mirineji#mirio x nejire#mirio togata#togata mirio#nejiro hado#nejire hadou#hado nejire#hadou nejire#my hero academia#mha#boku no hero academia#bnha#my hero#mha fanfic#bnha fanfic
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You’re Like an Angel (Joe x Reader)
Prompt: You and Joe (You Were Never Really Here) have been casually dating for awhile. He’s let a few comments slip about his past, but nothing too revealing. Soon enough, you experience first-hand just how troubled and damaged Joe really is.
Any dialogue or thoughts in italics is stuff Joe is remembering from his past.
Warnings: Cursing, descriptions of death and blood. Mentions of abuse and trauma. Bad coping mechanisms and suicidal thoughts.
A/N: I’m not sure how many will even read this fic since the movie isn't that popular. But I spent some time on this one. So, maybe give it a read? I tried to keep Joe in character as much as I could.
60, 59, 58, 57, 56,
Joe's fingers gripped the pill bottle like it was his only lifeline. His eyes ran over the dosage information before flickering up to the cashier. He could see the young man's mouth moving, but no words were coming out. The boy held up a white baggie containing the rest of the medication. He scanned the barcode of each bottle like Joe was his only customer for the day, and he wanted to make it last.
Other New York residents piled behind him, but he kept his eyes trained on the cashier's movements. He could feel the glares of everyone else bore into the back of him as they waited.
Stand up straight.
Joe's fist clenched around the orange bottle, the words of his late father ringing so loud in his ears he didn't hear the small crack of the plastic. His other hand carelessly brushed over his tied-up hair before wiping off the beads of sweat sticking to his face.
Stand up! Only pussies and little girls slouch!
Joe slammed his hands onto the table in front of him, his breathing coming out in ragged puffs.
"What?" Joe asked the cashier whose mouth hadn't moved since the outburst.
"I- I said your total is 18.50."
He dropped a twenty onto the table and ripped the bag from the guy's hand, rushing to get away from the prying eyes of other shoppers. He was out the door before he was handed the change.
55, 54, 53, 52, 51,
"Mom, I'm back," Joe said to his mother as soon as he came through the front door.
"Joe, come here, come here," she said from her spot in the recliner.
"What is it?"
"Look at the TV," she pointed. "Our song's on."
'A, You're Adorable' played quietly in the background of a children's commercial, as his mother hummed softly to the lyrics.
"Yeah, it is," Joe agreed before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her up. "Let's get you to bed."
"Janice loves this song. You should tell her we heard it."
Joe froze at the mention of his exes name. Janice. Before her, he had tried to date several women, all of which ended up leaving him. For years, he found himself to be incapable of maintaining a long-term relationship. Every girl he kissed, touched, or felt connected to—they all thought they could change him—fix him. He knew he was incapable of being fixed. Janice was different; she was there for him until his plan to escape the outside world, and all it's horror eventually pushed her away. It was his fault.
"Mom, I don't talk to Janice," Joe sighed. "C'mon, let's go to bed."
While he helped his mother up the stairs and into her bed, his mind drifted to you. He hadn't mentioned anything about you to her yet because he knew it wasn't serious. You both had been on a couple of dates, and even had a couple more planned, but the odds of it lasting weren't high. So, Joe kept his mouth shut. The last thing he needed was another woman for his mom to question him about.
50, 49, 48, 47, 46,
Once Joe was back in his bedroom, he pulled out his phone and sat at the end of the bed. His fingers searched his contacts for your name, while his other hand grasped his knee. The line only rang once before you picked up.
"Hey, I didn't expect to hear from you tonight," you said on the other end.
"I didn't expect to call tonight," he retorted.
"Okay," you said. "Your call wasn't unwanted, though."
The line went silent. Joe wasn't sure why he called at such a late hour; if he was honest, he really just wanted to hear the sound of your voice.
When he didn't respond, you spoke softly into the phone. "How was your day?"
"Good," he lied, letting his hand run over his beard. "How was yours?"
"It was okay, just busy."
"Tell me about it," he said before laying back onto the bed. He closed his eyes and let the recollection of your day soothe him for a moment's notice.
"And then, to top it all off," you said, finally nearing the end of your story. "I'm at the store, right? I turn around and see a dead girl lying on the floor."
Joe's eyes snapped open. "You saw what?"
"I saw a little girl pouting on the floor," you repeated. "I have never related to anyone so much."
He exhaled. His psyche was playing tricks on him once again. Images of dead bodies struck his mind like lightning. Kids upon kids laid lifeless in transporting vehicles—all the people he couldn't save from the savagery of sex trafficking and other violent crimes.
"Joe? Is everything okay?"
What pained him even more were the kids who screamed for help as he stood watching, helpless against the gun to his head. Jobs would go wrong, and he was forced to admit to himself, once again, that he failed.
Help me!
Please help me!
Don't let them take me again!
They'd cry out to him in such anguish, but he could only watch. He was as useless then as he was for his mother during his father's spells of anger.
"Hey," you said. "Are you still there?"
"I've got to go," Joe hastily hung up the phone, not waiting for your response. He threw the phone onto the bed and got up to pace around the room. With every step, a new face plagued his mind—tears dripped from the kids' eyes as they begged him to keep them safe. He rarely did.
45, 44, 43, 42, 41,
Joe moved to the closet where his arms tugged on an old, mucky box full of plastic bags until they all came floating out onto the floor. He slid his back down the wall of the closet until he was sitting—bags all around him. With shaky hands, he pulled a loose sack over his head, clutching it hard enough around his face to cut off his oxygen.
"Where the hell is Joseph?"
His father's voice rung out through the household. Joe carried his little feet across the floor as fast as he could, hoping to get to his hiding place before his father caught sight of him. At nearly 10 years old, Joe could identify at least three spots in the house where his father never searched for him—cabinets, under the bed, and his closet. He often opted for the closet, where he'd pull grocery bags or plastic dry-cleaning holders over his head to drown out the noise of his mother's wails.
"Stop! Stop it! You're hurting me," she'd cry out. Little Joe pushed his hands up against his ears so tightly, they'd be red for hours after the incident.
He was scared of his father back then, and so he let his mother take all the abuse. Had he not been hiding, he would have been the one facing his father's wrath.
"You're weak. Weak, weak, weak," he repeated to himself like a mantra. He knew it was only a matter of time before you figured that out and left him like the rest.
40, 39, 38, 37, 36,
When morning came, he awoke from a thud sounding out downstairs. He stayed in bed a minute longer, wishing his blanket would swallow him whole. Without any luck, he pulled back the covers and went downstairs to find the source of the noise.
Stepping foot into the kitchen, the first thing he saw was his mom's head lying still against the hardwood table. A broken bowl of cereal was turned on its side, leaking milk that ran from the dish to the end of the surface. His eyes followed the droplets as they hit the ground, joining a stream of red liquid to create a pink puddle on the floor.
Joe's breath came out in fast shudders as he approached his mother's figure. He pulled her face up to see a plastic piece that was missing from the bowl lodged in her neck. His fingers grasped the broken part, yanking it out in one quick motion; he watched as blood shot out in spirts, covering his clothes before he could make a move to back up.
He turned around after laying his mom's head back on the table and walked slowly out of the room. He kept his steps light and his ears peeled for any trace of movement in the house. His head snapped towards the living room when he heard what sounded like a vase fall. He rounded the corner to see a tall, slim-figured man dressed in black, looking through a pile of receipts on the coffee table.
While passing the cabinet, Joe grabbed his hammer that he kept locked away, and with one quick swing to the head, the intruder was left bleeding out on the floor.
"Fu-fuck," the wounded man choked out. "Don't kill me. Don't kill me."
"I think I already have," Joe said, bending down to lay the head of the hammer on the man's stomach. "Why did you kill my mom?"
"I was told to! I- I only work for somebody, man. I don't know anything about her. I don't have anything against you."
"Who sent you?"
The man kept quiet as quick and panicked gasps left his mouth. Joe ran the end of the hammer over the man's stomach, light enough to tickle him, before pulling it back and slamming it into the guy's stomach.
"Who fucking sent you?"
"Carl. C-Carl.”
"Carl, who?"
"Carl Alcott," the dying man coughed out.
"The club owner? Fuckin' fuck," Joe dropped the hammer, and his hands slammed into the ground with force. He knew that exchange from a week ago was going to come back and bite him in the ass. Influential people don't like to be messed with.
"He's- he's- comin' for," the man's words ran together as his breath started to leave his lungs.
"For me?"
"No- no," he said. "For- for your girl."
35, 34, 33, 32, 31,
As soon as intruder took his last breath, he stuffed his body into a trash bag along with his mom's and drove them to the lakeside. As he left the city and got further into the country, his mind started to wander to you.
For your girl. Your girl.
His hands gripped the steering wheel so tight with shaking arms, he was swerving in and out of the lane. His tires screeched every time he raced around the corner, desperate to get the remnants of the bodies out of his backseat.
When he went on dates with you the few times before, he had briefly opened up about his past. He thinks he can recall saying something about a rude father, or his time in the marines and the police force. He may have even let it slip that he's seen piles upon piles of decaying corpses. He never once mentioned his new work in fear of scaring you off.
As soon as he dropped his job in law enforcement, he sentenced himself to a lonely life. The small number of friends he had, plus any relationship he conjured up, fell apart. He abandoned any wish to be happy since he couldn't protect any of the people who came near him; his mother was a testimony to that.
You were something else, though. He had bumped into you on a whim, not expecting your smile and personality to slam into his heart as it did. He agreed to one date, trying to escape the bleakness of his everyday life. But for some unknown reason, he kept coming back for more. One date turned into two, three, and four; before he knew it, you were basically his girlfriend—without the title, of course.
When he pulled up to the lakeside, he dragged both bodies out to the small bridge that ran from side to side. He attached each of them to a cinderblock and pushed them one-by-one over the edge.
"I hope you rest easier here than you did in life, mom," he said into the air.
He wondered what it would be like to attach a block to his own foot and drown with the rest of them. He wondered how that would feel—how you would feel.
He couldn't do it though. His suicidal story that he contemplated often was pushed aside in the past because he couldn't leave his mother. Now that she was gone, it appeared to be the perfect moment. But, again, he had somebody holding him back.
You were being threatened with the ultimate price, and he'd be damned if he let you suffer for something you had no part in. He was determined for once in his life to save someone important to him; he would not let you be another statistic in his head.
30, 29, 28, 27, 26,
He arrived at your apartment after going back to his and changing into a blue long-sleeve shirt, jeans, and charcoal vest. He knocked three times against the door and waited.
"Joe," you said, looking surprised to see him on the other side.
"I came to see if you wanted to go out right now, like a little date."
"Oh, sure," you smiled, and Joe couldn't help but offer you a small smile in return. "Let me just grab some money."
"I've got it. You know I've got it."
"You paid the last date," you reminded him. "You said I could next time."
He sighed, running his hand through his long locks. If he was going to get through this meal with a good conscience, he had to be the one to cover it. He knew your relationship was coming to a stop tonight. For your safety, he decided it was time to end the connection between you two—even if it'd hurt like hell.
"Please, just let me pay," he said.
"Okay," you agreed before shutting your door and joining your hand with his. "You look good today."
As soon as he got to his car, he pushed your body gently against it before capturing your mouth with his.
"I was going to tell you that," he said in between kisses. "You always look good—so perfect. And you’re all mine tonight."
You hummed against his lips, moving your hands up from his soft belly to his strong arms. "Not that I don't love this, but is everything okay? You're not usually this…"
You trailed off, and he backed up only slightly, letting your hands fall from his arms so he can intertwine them with his own.
"I'm fine, sweetheart," he assured you while pulling open the car door for you to get inside. Once you were secured, he went around and got in himself.
You smiled at him as he took off driving. "Where are we headed to?"
He took his eyes off the road for a second to smirk at you. "I'm not telling you."
"No fair," you pouted jokingly. "At least give me a hint."
"Not a fucking chance," he laughed—a real genuine sound—which is something he never does. You chuckled along with him before comfortable silence fills the car as you drive to the destination Joe picked out.
25, 24, 23, 22, 21,
He parked his car in a small parking lot and got out to open your door, mumbling something about 'keeping your eyes closed.' When you're told to open them, you're met with a worn-down diner that looks to be in the middle of nowhere. The windows are tended with the words 'Maggie's Place' scrawled across the glass. The building is painted red and white, with checkered lines running down the sides—a design that was quite popular in the '60s.
"Wow," you said, not knowing what else to say.
"I know it's not a fancy date restaurant, but my mom used to bring me here. This place is important to me."
"No, it's perfect," you told him, honestly. "I love it."
He nods in relief before leading you inside. You're quickly seated by a young waitress who looks to be no more than 17. Joe ordered a coffee while you looked over the menu for something you'd want.
After you're done ordering, the waitress turned to Joe. "Is there anything else you'd like, sir?"
He stared blankly at her, trying to remember where he'd seen her familiar face. "What?"
"Would you like anything else?"
He shook his head and watched as she slowly walked away, staring at him the whole time she's departing. He knows that's not likely to be accurate; she probably left to the kitchen without a single glance back. His mind, however, sees her gaping at him—just like the other girls he couldn't save.
He exhaled. "What the fuck are we doing? What are we doing?"
"What do you mean?"
Your voice broke his delusion, and he snapped his head back to your face, which is sporting a concerned look.
"Nothing, nothing. Sorry."
"Don't apologize," you said. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Talk about what?"
"I don't know," you shrugged. "Whatever has been on your mind since I met you. You know, you hung up on me last night?"
"I'm sorry," he repeated.
"Stop apologizing, Joseph."
"Don't call me that," he barked at you, his fist clenching the side of booth tightly.
You snapped your mouth shut at Joe's harsh tone. He had been angry before; you'd seen it first-hand but never directed towards yourself.
"My father used to call me that," he muttered, his words still sounding loud in the otherwise quiet diner. "I don't like it."
"I won't do it again," you promise. "How's your mom?"
He paused, fully prepared to go with a lie. As he met your eyes though, he couldn't will himself to deceive you further. Instead, he shook his head while taking in a deep breath through his nose.
"Actually, she passed away."
Your eyes widened. "What? When?"
"This morning."
"Oh my God, Joe," you breathed out, your mouth opening and closing, trying to find some way to console him. "That's- I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," he said softly. "She'll be happier now."
"How—if you don't mind me asking—did it, you know, happen?"
Memories of earlier flooded his head--the blood oozing from his mother's body like a river; he could almost see it on his hands now.
"In her sleep," Joe mumbled, hoping that was satisfactory enough to stop the probing. He didn't want you to find out, especially during your last date—not that you knew it was the last.
"I know she meant a lot to you," you said, placing a comforting hand on his. "She would have been proud of you for putting yourself out there with me. I'm just sad I never got to meet her."
"She would have liked you," Joe admitted with certainty. "Probably a little too much. She'd have you singing 'A, you're adorable' in no time."
"A, you're adorable. B, you're so beautiful, C, you're a cutie full of charms," you sang, playfully.
"D, you're delightful and, B, you're exciting and, F, you're a feather in my arms," he sang back, smiling towards the end.
The waitress soon delivered the food to your table. You and Joe ate in silence, with a few comments made here and there about the food or something that popped into your heads. After paying the bill and leaving a rather sizable tip, he drove you back to your house.
20, 19, 18, 17, 16,
Neither of you wanted the date to finish, especially Joe, who knew he wouldn't see you again.
He dropped you off, but before leaving to walk into your place, you asked, "do you want to come in?"
He nodded. "I have something to talk to you about, actually."
"Oh, well. I wasn't inviting you in to talk, but we can do that too," you joke.
The joke falls flat—Joe was too busy worrying about how you were going to take the break-up. Not seeing him chuckle, or even offer a smile, you became concerned.
He followed you inside to your living room, where he sat on the couch while you went to the kitchen to grab a drink. He was on his feet in seconds when he heard the sound of a glass shatter on the floor. When he got to you, you were standing in the middle of the room. A man with a different build, yet dressed similarly to the one who murdered his mother, stood behind you—a gun pressed up against your skull.
Joe quickly looked you over to see if the man had hurt you yet. Besides your trembling body and sporadic breathing, you looked to be physically fine.
"Let go of her," Joe spoke calmly.
"No, I don't think I will," the man replied.
"J-Joe," you stuttered. "What's going on? Who is this?"
"Stay calm, baby," Joe spoke softly to you. "It's going to be okay."
The man behind you laughed. "Oh, Joey. If only you would have been in here sooner. Just like all those other times, huh?"
The room fell quiet; all that was heard was the air leaving your mouth.
"The laws of man, they don't apply," the gunman sang while smiling. "When blood gets in a woman's eye."
Stand up! Only pussies and little girls slouch!
Don't let them take me again!
Where the hell is Joseph?
For your girl.
The memories wouldn't stop screaming in his head—every bad thing said to him from birth until now. The urge to leave and hide in his closet was unbearable; his hands scrambled to his ears, trying to stop the voices that were getting louder and louder.
"Joe," you yelled out as the gunman took advantage of his opportunity and started to drag you out of the kitchen. "Joe!"
You struggled against the larger man's clutch, trying to get an edge on him. He nearly got you to the front door before you heard a loud blast echo through the house. The guy's grip on you loosened, and you watched as he dropped to the ground.
15, 14, 13, 12, 11,
Joe's arms slide around your frame before you even notice he's there. You keep still, gawking at the body lying at your legs. His blood was seeping through his shirt, already creating a pool of red by your shoes.
You felt strong arms pulling you away from the scene, and only then did you look at Joe.
"What- what," you stumble, glancing between him and the man on the floor. "Why did-why?"
"Come on," he said softly. "Don't look at him."
Too shocked to resist, you let him lead you outside to his car. He sits you inside, placing a kiss to your forehead.
"I'll be right back," he told you. "I'm going to clean up. Y/N, listen to me. Do you hear me?"
You nod faintly.
"Please don't go anywhere," he kisses your forehead again, lingering a little longer before going back inside to wrap the body and clean the floor.
You watched him come back out fifteen minutes later, a human-shaped trash bag in his arms. You fight the urge to open the door and run for your life. You're not sure what Joe was planning to do with the man—with you.
He shoved the body in the trunk and made his way to the front seat. The silence that loomed over you both this time was not one of comfort like all those other drives before. No, this one was full of tension and emotional turmoil.
"Are you okay? Do you want a soda?"
You stayed quiet, not answering his questions. You rested your head on the window, watching as the city buildings got fewer and fewer. Joe decided it was best to take you to a small park in a country town far outside the New York City limits.
You listened to the radio, soft music by Rosie and the Originals played in the speakers.
'It's just like heaven being here with you.
You're like an angel, too good to be true.
But after all, I love you, I do.
Angel baby, my angel baby.'
10, 9, 8, 7, 6,
It was nearing dark when Joe finally parked the car. Neither of you knew what to say or how even to start the much-needed conversation. So, you decided to take the plunge.
"Are you going to kill me now?"
Joe gaped at you like you'd just asked him what his name was—like the answer was obvious.
"Of- of course not," he stammered. "Fuck, Y/N. I would never do that."
"You just shot someone, Joe! And who the hell was that? Why were they holding a gun to my fucking head?"
"Calm down."
"Don't tell me to calm down," you cautioned, taking off your seatbelt so you could turn towards him. "What do you do for a living? How do you know people like that?"
"I rescue people," he said, and you scoffed. "I know that doesn't sound right, but it's true. I rescue missing people, usually kids."
"So, what? You're a cop?"
"Not exactly," he trails off. "I- I was sort of. Then, one day I was at a crime scene. I found a truck full of Chinese girls. They- they all had been kidnapped to be trafficked. I found them, but it was too late."
He paused, his voice cracking on his next words. "They were already dead."
The air in the car was getting heavy. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes as Joe recounted the events that led him to his current occupation.
"The man who killed my mom," he started. "Carl Alcott. He's coming for you. I don't mean to scare you, but he knows you're with me."
"Okay, so we'll leave."
Joe faltered. "You want to stay with me?"
"I do. That might seem crazy, but I do."
He considered it for a moment before shaking his head firmly. "No. You can't. This can't go on. We have to end this here before it gets too serious."
"I just saw you shoot someone," you reminded him. "It's already serious. I'm coming."
"No, Y/N! I refuse to let you be another person that I couldn't save. You have to leave alone—move very far away. You need to change your number, your bank information, everything."
"I'm not leaving you," you stated.
Joe grumbled, his mouth twitching in anger and pent up emotions. "Everyone always has! My father beat the shit outta my mom, and I just hid from him. I was too late to save those girls, and I've had too many children be ripped from my sight because I couldn't save them. I'm weak. I can't save you. I'm weak."
His whole body shook as strangled sobs escaped his lips. He brought his hands up to cover his face before he moved them down to tug off his vest and shirt. He was desperate to get out of the material that was making him feel too claustrophobic in the small car.
Once both of his tops were discarded to the back seat, you finally reached across the middle console and pulled Joe into your arms loosely. He clenched your shirt as his father's words,' only pussies and little girls slouch,' played through his mind like a broken record.
"It's okay. Let it all out," you said against his ear, rubbing a soothing circle over his back while still being mindful of his bruises and cuts. "I'm right here. I'm not leaving."
"You- you should."
"Maybe so," you said. "But I don't want to."
"You can't fix me."
"I don't want to; you're perfect the way you are. I only want to try and make you happier."
He retracted his head from your shoulder to meet your eyes. "Why?"
"I- I think I could fall in love with you," you admitted, shrugging slightly. You saw the onset of panic flash through Joe's eyes, so you quickly kept talking. "You don't have to say it back. I just wanted to tell you that."
He wiped his face of any tears and sighed. "I think I could fall in love with you too."
A smile tugged at your lips for first time since the date, and he again felt himself smiling right back.
You watched him put back on his seatbelt, and you swiftly copied his movements. "Where are we going to go now?"
"Where do you want to go?"
"I think we should probably do something about the body in the trunk."
He looked at you and laughed. "I think you're right."
5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
It didn't take long to dispose of the gunman; after all, it wasn't Joe's first time. Before long, you were set out across the country to go wherever your hearts desired.
In the midst of the drive, his hand found yours across the console. And for once in his life, he didn't feel the need to run his car off the road.
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Music Is Worthless (Stony)
“Music is worthless unless it can make a stranger break down and cry.” - Frou Frou, The Dumbing Down of Love.
Summary: Tony learned from very young that others didn’t hear the music. The music that underlaid a person, their own symphony that exposed the truth of what they were behind the fake smiles and the pleasant expressions. When he was young and innocent, Tony danced to the music playing in his mind with uninhibited freedom, letting his childish laughter intertwine with it and create new harmony.
That didn’t last long.
Read the whole thing here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24563422
~~~~~~
Steve Rogers was silent. In a world populated with people who had their own music, Tony had never met anyone alive who was silent the way Steve Rogers was. It wasn’t soft music, it wasn’t something with long pauses interspersed, it wasn’t anything at all. His very existence should be impossible. And yet.
Tony went on the defensive immediately, reminded of all the instances of loss that preceded quiet. Maria, Howard, Jarvis, Yinsen, even Stane.
He no longer wanted to hear the music if he could help it, not after Obadiah. These days he was good about separating himself and blasting music that didn’t have feelings or secrets intertwined with them, the living people that entered his life for more than a few hours’ time few and far between.
He was fine with silence when it meant there was no one there, but no music with a living human being disconcerted him. As far as he had known, he was the only one in the world who had no music, but Tony had developed hypotheses to explain that, all of which based on the fact that he was broken in some way.
But Steve Rogers wasn’t broken, he was the perfect specimen of a man and a hero. Steve Rogers was honourable and good-hearted and had a beautiful smile and Tony knew all of that without needing to be able to hear his music.
But no music meant he couldn’t read Steve, couldn’t protect himself against the mystery of his thoughts and emotions, couldn’t prepare himself for the inevitable fallout.
He was Tony Stark, there was always going to be an inevitable fallout.
With Steve Rogers, Tony was what he always wanted to be, like everyone else but he hated it. Being like everyone else meant doubt and insecurity and never truly knowing the right thing to say. It meant vulnerability. He wanted nothing to do with Steve Rogers and his impossible silence.
Thankfully, Steve didn’t want anything to do with him either.
~~
The fought the Chitauri. They won.
Tony was plagued for endless nights about the complete, soul-sucking silence of space. In his dreams, he never returned. He continued to float unto eternity, the silence unbreakable by any kind of life. Tony was alone. Always alone.
He woke up gasping those nights, leaping from the bed and the room and going into the common areas of the Tower where his new occupants were taking up space with their stuff strewn all over. It took time to adjust to their presence in the Tower, but after the emptiness of space, he wrapped their music around him like a security blanket and tried to find peace.
~~
Sighing when he heard no one around, Tony made his way to the coffee machine, already planning to head to his lab and blast music there until the chill in his bones was forgotten. Tonight was a bad night and his hands were still trembling slightly, cold and anxiety twisted in his gut in a toxic mixture.
Hearing a shuffling behind him, Tony whirled around and came face to face with Steve who was coming in from one of the side balconies. God, he did not want to be near Steve now, couldn’t stand to try and wrap his mind around the mental gymnastics that came with their every interaction.
“Hey Tony,” Steve greeted softly, his body swathed in a giant fluffy blanket.
“Cap,” Tony returned, nodding before turning back to grab his coffee. He didn’t know if he should linger and make awkward midnight small talk or if he should just make a break for it.
They had reached a place of congeniality, but Tony didn’t know if that was just because Steve didn’t really care one way or another or if he actually hated Tony’s guts and just wanted to keep things professional for the sake of the team. That was the problem with Steve, Tony just never knew and he was still struggling to figure out how to deal with that.
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Steve asked, pulling out a chair at the table and settling in. Apparently, they were doing small talk.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Tony quipped, grabbing another mug. If Steve didn’t drink the coffee, it would just mean more for Tony and even at two in the morning, there was no such thing as too much coffee for Tony.
“The serum means I don’t need as much sleep. More often than not, I’m just lying awake in bed, staring at the ceiling and talking to JARVIS.” He accepted the coffee, wrapping his large hands around the cup.
Tony snorted. “You talk to JARVIS? About what?”
Steve was silent for a moment, his finger idly tapping his cup and his eyes focused on the ripples the movement made. “There’s a lot that I don’t know about the future. It’s like being transported to a whole other world, something familiar and alien all at once. I’ve been doing research, trying to catch up with the last 70 years, but there’s a lot to cover.”
His voice was matter of fact, but Tony knew how difficult it was to feel like you didn’t belong in the space you were in, like you could no longer find solid footing in a world that had been your own.
In the months after his kidnapping, he walked around feeling as if he was looking at a distorted reality of what he knew. Everything was the same except for little things here and there, but it no longer felt like home, like a reality he could trust.
Instead of saying any of that, he remained silent and the two of them sat lost in their own thoughts, the quiet surprisingly not as awkward as Tony had suspected it would be.
“What’s your excuse?” Steve eventually said.
“For?” Tony finished his cup and got up to get a fresh batch, lifting the carafe in wordless offering.
Steve shook his head and Tony returned to his place across from him. “Not sleeping.”
“Genius burns at all hours of the day, gumdrop,” Tony said, winking cheekily, “and sleep can’t hold a candle to the miracles that go on in my lab.” He grinned at the tiny quirk of Steve’s lips, feeling like he had won something by making Steve smile even that little bit.
“What do you do down there anyway? I know you work on projects, but you’re in there so much we never see you.”
“I’m a busy man.” Tony shifted uncomfortably, knowing that Steve is hinting at the fact that Tony had kept himself at a distance from the rest of the team. They’ve made moves to include him, inviting him out for drinks or for team movie nights but Tony always declined. With his gift, he knew more about the various members of the team more than they would ever want him to know—then he wanted to know.
Steve hummed noncommittally and Tony’s guard immediately goes up, wondering what Steve’s thinking, if he’s silently judging Tony for not having time to spend with the team. It’s not like he could explain what he’s really thinking. If he did, at best they’d think it was another practical joke or one of those billionaire eccentricities that Tony does because “he wants attention.” At worst, they’d force him to get a psych consult and bench him from the team. No, it wasn’t worth it.
Knowing it was time to end whatever this little moment was, Tony rose and got another cup for the road. “Well, this was fun, Cap but speaking of my lab, I probably should head there now.”
“Wait.” Steve rose too. “Can I come with you?”
“You want to see my lab?” Steve nodded and Tony thought about having the other man in what was probably his most sacred space. But this interaction was the most civil they had been, and Tony liked the glimpse of Steve he had seen and though he didn’t want to admit it, he wanted to see more.
It was almost like a challenge: How to Decipher the Enigma that is Steve Rogers. And Tony could never resist a challenge, or a mystery.
“Okay, follow closely, young padawan. I’m going to blow your fucking mind.”
~~
Tony gets used to the presence of Steve in his life, his silence that had been so initially unnerving becoming an unexpected gift to him. Steve just plants himself in the couch in the corner in his lab, leaving and coming as if he owned the place and as antisocial Tony could get sometimes, he never felt the need to push him out.
It was nice, having company. It spoiled him. He wasn’t used to having anyone (except JARVIS) listen to him when he spoke, let alone listened enough to ask pertinent questions.
But though Steve wasn’t an engineer, he was an artist and a strategist. He had a keen ability to extrapolate how multiple moving pieces could come together as a cohesive unit and his insights were—surprisingly enough for Tony who rarely had someone who could make him fall into spirals of thought and genius that weren’t his own—inspiring.
They got closer and the team got better with their friendship. Tony allowed Steve to convince him to bond with the team, agreeing to a couple movie nights at first and then team bonding outings to play laser tag of all things.
Even after all this, Tony still hadn’t figured out why Steve was silent, but he did discover three things almost as alarming.
1. He had fallen in love with Steve Rogers.
2. Steve Rogers had not fallen in love with him.
3. When Steve Rogers touched him, he could hear the music too.
~~
It started small.
They’d been working together on one of Tony’s vintage cars, Tony on his back with his hands buried in the elegant machine and Steve passing him the tools he needed. They’d been talking through what they were going to do so the background music had been low, when Natasha had walked in to ask them what they were feeling to eat.
A brush of hands when Steve passed Tony a tool he’d been looking for, and the blond paused what he was saying and tilted his head.
“Did you hear that?”
Natasha rose a brow in question. “What?”
“I don’t know. It sounded like something guttural…?” Tony froze from his position, ignoring the drip of oil down his arms. Natasha’s music today was low, guttural voices, like the meditative chanting music she used to calm her down when she was having a bad day. That it was playing with her emotions instead of her having to listen to it revealed that it was a good day for her, but no one but Tony knew that because he was supposed to be the only one to hear it.
“I guess I just imagined it,” Steve continued, shrugging unconcernedly. They spoke a little longer and Tony let her know what he wanted automatically, wondering if it was just a one-off.
The next time was one morning in the kitchen with Clint. He looked to be half-asleep and utterly unconcerned with Steve behind him who was humming while making pancakes, but he had the soundtrack of The Lion King playing in his head.
Lion King always meant that Clint was thinking of his brother and that was never a good day.
Grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl, Tony whipped up a banana and peanut butter sandwich and put it in front of Clint. He huffed out a surprised laugh when arms wrapped around his waist in a fond embrace.
Rolling his eyes, he patted Clint on the back while reaching out with the other to grab the cup Steve was handing over to him. Their hands brushed again and this time Steve jerked in surprise, letting go too soon. The hot cup jostled in their hold and tumbled to the floor, shattering and sending ceramic shards and hot liquid careening every which direction.
“Damn,” Steve swore. “Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”
Tony shot a quick mournful look at the coffee before he called out to Steve to don’t worry about it. “It’s fine, really. The cleaning bots will take care of it. Actually,” Tony looked around, “they should have been deployed already. JARVIS?”
“I’m afraid Captain Rogers has disabled the cleaner bots for the common areas, Sir.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I found Clint feeding them food like they were pets,” Steve replied, returning and aiming a sardonic look at Clint.
“They looked hungry!” Clint protested. “It was a humanitarian service really—”
“They’re robots—”
“—but they also have a grand purpose that needs to be fulfilled! And they get sad and listless if they can’t fulfil their duty. How would you feel if you couldn’t be Captain America anymore? Wouldn’t you want to fulfil your life’s purpose securing justice and freedom and whatever and whatever?”
“I want you to shut up now about the pet robots and help me clean.”
“It’s your fault!” Clint paused, brows scrunching together in confusion. “What happened anyway?”
Tony looked at Steve intently, not sure what answer he was hoping for.
“I thought—” Steve smiled sheepishly. “I thought I heard someone singing Hakuna Matata.”
Clint burst out laughing.
“Wow, Cap, must be your old age getting to you. Maybe you should go get your hearing checked out.”
Steve ended up giving as good as he got and they ended up bickering in the kitchen good-naturedly as they cleaned up. Through it all, Tony wondered if he should just grab Steve’s hand, press skin to skin and see if he could hear everything Tony heard. Every beat of a person’s true heart, every note of their inner emotions.
Did he truly want to test if he was no longer the only Listener in the world? Tony imagined what it would be like to no longer be the only one as Can You Feel the Love Tonight? played softly in the background.
~~
Tony never has a chance to test his theory.
The next week, Steve found out that Bucky Barnes was alive.
#stony#stevetony#superhusbands#tony stark#steve rogers#fanfic#angst#soulmates#soulmate fic#stuckony#tony x steve#vengeanceworks#music is worthless
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A New Possession One Shot- Christmas Date
Hello Saiino nation, long time no see. It’s been about a week since my last entry and a lot has happened. An update on me is that unfortunately the anti-depressant I started taking caused my ill-feeling these past couple of days. I was luckily able to get some time off of work to recover, but it’s a holiday weekend over here in the U.S. so my personal situation will probably be ongoing into this week.
But enough about me! We finally have the Christmas chapter, or should I say, one shot. I decided to post this as an extra one shot to better lure people from Archive onto my journal. But it’s also because this is the first narrative piece written in over a year. This time with actual dialogue. I realized from my previous entries that I am capable of writing like this, and I did enjoy writing like this. I do plan on writing more narrative tie-ins to the journal, so you can expect to see more. However, this particular story line I had a bit of trouble, since I know in the timeline it’s still a bit too early for Sai and Ino to get together. I decided to take inspiration from multiple fics in order to get a coherent idea. I particularly took a running theme in omegafire17′s classic fic Art Date.
I also want to once again shout out my bf for listening to my dribble and helping me edit this. He wants to complain, but I know he enjoys doing this.
This was my first true hurdle since beginning this project, so I am excited to finally overcome it so I can continue on with the story proper, I hope you also enjoy it. I also hope you enjoy angst, because this has got plenty of it.
Also on AO3
“Are you doing anything Christmas Eve?”
Ino froze at Sai’s words, trying to process them. Of all the things she expected to come out of Sai’s mouth, which was quite a list mind you, she had never expected him to ask about Christmas. She had her back turned to him as she had assumed he was only visiting to ask more overly-complicated questions about the journal she gave him.
But Sai of all people asking her about plans on Christmas Eve?
If she were still 16, the idea of being asked out on Christmas Eve would’ve given her enough joy to last her a lifetime. But she was now 19, and this was Sai.
Perhaps he’s been sent to inform her of a group gathering. She turned around, applying a small smile as an attempt to enforce a casual atmosphere.
“Nothing in particular. I will be working here a bit, but we’re closing early. Is there something going on?”
His expression then grew pensive, as if he had realized that he once again slipped into his mask. He was truly a challenge for a highly skilled interrogator like her to read, but the more she spoke with him, the more she could pinpoint the cracks in his false demeanor. With this, she could tell that he was having a bit of difficulty with communicating his words.
“Well, I was thinking about inviting you over to celebrate with me.”
Ok so the group gathering was out the window and now her mind was taking a slow but steady nose dive into panic. Sai asking her out on Christmas Eve of all times seemed too unbelievable to be true.
Don’t get her wrong, she still found the young man incredibly attractive. She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t acknowledge the finer points in his appearance. Like his face, or his hair, or his body...
“Uh-” she stammered before he continued.
“I figured since you have given me so much during the span of our friendship, that I could perhaps repay you. Christmas just seemed to be good timing.”
His eyebrows raised slightly, reflecting the utter innocence in his request. Ino inwardly sighed, relieved at his clarification.
More like bad timing… Of course it would be as pure intentioned as him.
It’s not as if she would’ve rejected his advances if it were a date. In fact, she’s been wanting to pull back more of the layers and dig into that inner psyche of his since they met, but that was before she realized how delicate his situation truly was.
The mission to the Land of Silence proved to her that the only way she could truly connect to Sai is if he’d let her in. His trauma ran deep. Deep enough to cover up his true smile and emotional responses.
Seeing his smile in the depths of his subconscious made her heart weep and flutter all at once.
She truly wanted to get to know him better, but he had to get to know himself first. This was her intention when she gave him that journal to write in, and based on his accounts it seemed like it was doing the trick. It also helped that they had engaged in more small talk when he visited the shop.
But now a true opportunity has presented itself to Ino to finally delve into that mysterious aura that had once allured her.
Okay, maybe it’s still a bit alluring now.
As she relaxed, her nervous grin fell into a soft smile.
“So tell me more about this gift of yours…”
________________________________________________________________
Ino followed Sai as he led her through the village, absorbing the environment around her. Christmas Eve in Konoha had always been nothing short of festive; Strung up lights floated above the heads of those walking along the snow ridden paths. Gazing at the ground before her, she couldn’t help being overcome by memories of her childhood perched atop her father’s shoulders as their family strolled through those very same sights. Christmas hasn’t been the same without him. Nothing was the same without him if she were honest. Especially to her poor mother, who had insisted she depart with Sai while she finished closing up for the night.
She glanced at her companion walking beside her. Sai’s expression was unreadable as ever, but she couldn’t help but be transfixed by his cold and focused eyes staring forward towards their destination. She quickly turned her head away as his gaze moved towards her, face growing warm and ponytail whipping behind her. She had tied it up for this outing in order to restrain her hair from being harassed by the winter wind.
Why am I like this? I know this is only him being friendly.
But she couldn’t help him being so beautiful.
Hoping he had shifted his focus back to the road, she turned her head once more in his direction, only to find him still staring down at her.
His expression softened in moderate confusion. “Is there something wrong?”
“No!” She tried to clarify through frivolous waves of the hand. “I was just remembering something…” Ino trailed off for a moment, trying to assess the interaction before deciding on a new route. “Do you spend every Christmas with girls?” She resorted to her typical method of teasing in hopes to take some of the heat off. That may be difficult with what she was working with. He probably couldn’t even understand the nature of her words.
As expected, his confusion was still as strong as ever. He lifted his gaze back to the road.
“The few times I’ve experienced this holiday have been at the gatherings that Naruto puts together. You’ve attended a few of them yourself…” Sai paused in his speech before returning his dark stare down to her. “Were you so inebriated that you have forgotten?”
She found herself flushed once more, covering her face with both hands. She wanted to scream, or at the least groan in frustration, but didn’t want to discourage him. Ino needed to be patient with him. She took a deep breath before throwing her hands down to her sides accompanied by an audible exhale.
“I remember Sai, I was just poking fun. You have to know what teasing is, right?”
The curt nod he gave her had enough force to shake the dark bangs that covered his eyes. “Of course. Teasing is an act intended to provoke someone in playfulness. It is still a little hard for me to identify a teasing remark, however.”
As he looked away, his frown deepened, giving her the impression that he was disheartened by that fact. To prevent him from caving in on himself, she lightly placed her hand on his bicep in encouragement. He shivered, eyes wide and pale skin looking even paler as she quickly pulled away. She tried to keep her tone as gentle as she could muster so as to not startle him further.
“It’s okay. I’m sure you will someday.”
Sai only hummed in acknowledgement, peering at her from the corner of his eye. His body was still tense, reeling from the contact.
Mission failed. I just want him to be able to trust me.
Just as the awkward silence dropped on them like a weight, they had arrived at their destination. The silence continued until they entered his small apartment. The flat wasn’t very homey, but it seemed to have suited Sai. The bare necessities with his supplies littered around the room. An easel accompanied by a short stool sat in the center of the floor. Another stool was placed across from it.
She watched as Sai hastily padded around the space, grabbing small things here and there in preparation for the painting.
Ino had been surprised when Sai proposed the idea of painting her given how naturally intimate the process seeme. He would be giving her his undivided attention, something she had always yearned for, and creating something entirely out of her image. It was a fairly high ranking gesture on the romance meter if you asked her.
“Ino?”
Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized that he had already taken a seat and was gazing at her expectantly. Shaking her head clear of thoughts once more, Ino slowly made her way towards the stool that awaited her across from him.
She readily noticed the artist’s calculating eyes upon her when she took her seat. His head was slightly tilted, a pale hand covering his mouth.
“Is there anything in particular you wish for me to do?”
He said nothing for a few moments, still processing his vision she presumed. She watched intently as his hand slipped down to uncover his mouth, focusing only on the movement of his lips.
“I planned on having you pose yourself, but I would personally prefer your hair down for this.”
She felt warmth rise into her face, averting her eyes from his gaze once more as she brought her hands up to remove the tie from her hair. Her fingers combed at her golden locks that cascaded down her back.
“Is that better?”
She returned her eyes to him to find that his expression had remained static.
So much for looking seductive
She let out a frustrated sigh and relented to placing her hands into her lap.
She still found his face unchanged. He almost looked troubled. Regarding her for a moment more, he rose from his stool and stepped over to her, grabbing her face without hesitation and positioning it slightly to the right.
“Apologies, this seemed much easier than directing you.” Once seated, he peered at her from the side of the easel, a grin stretched across his face
“But to answer your previous question, yes.”
Ino’s hands reflexively lifted from her lap to wipe at her face in aggravation.
Sai’s face reappeared from the side of his canvas, this time sporting a look that was far less amused than before.
“It would be better if you tried not to move or speak during this process.”
Silence suddenly blanketed the room. A common theme with him. She could tell he had started his work because she could only hear the sounds of his pencil scratching the canvas. Outlining, she assumed. Ino had also noticed how often he peeked from behind his canvas to look at her. It was quite amusing to watch his ever-changing glare from her perspective. His thin eyes narrowed, growing even thinner. Sometimes she would be graced by the twisting of his lips, exposing dimples she never would’ve guessed he had in the first place. She especially couldn’t help but notice the way his brow lifted along with one corner of his mouth, almost as if some part of her was particularly interesting to him.
But what was so interesting? She could easily find out if she put her mind to it. Perhaps all Sai needed was some careful instruction and physical persuasion to bring out those feelings she knew he had. He would probably be eager to learn if she truly insisted. Tonight could present itself with a teaching opportunity if she looked hard enough. He’d probably be up for it, maybe his invitation meant something more.
What am I thinking?! Of course it didn’t!
Ino left her mind to wander into dangerous territory and she had finally become aware. Her resolve was crumbling more and more by the minute and they had only just begun. She wasn’t sure what was worse, the concentrated silence that enveloped him, or that strange lift in his voice. The one that otherwise betrayed the more dreary expression that usually occupied his face.
He’s just trying to be friends! And yet-
Ino shot up from the stool, stiff as a board. She caught a glimpse of Sai from behind his canvas before he noticed, a serene smile adorning his face.
He was really enjoying himself. And she was about to ruin that…
“What’s wrong?”
Genuine bewilderment had spread across his expression.
“Sai, I’m sorry, I just can’t do this.”
Sai sat rooted in his seat, pupils shaking as his mind was incapable of processing the situation
“I-I don’t understand. Wh-what do you mean?”
Ino wanted to explain, but the thoughts couldn’t form. She didn’t quite understand what was going on with her either. She picked up her discarded jacket and made a move to leave, but was impeded by Sai’s hand tightly gripping hers.
“Please, at least explain what I did wrong. I thought this was what friends do.” His eyes pleaded with her. Pulling away from his grasp was what finally uprooted him, but he stood frozen in place as she fled towards the door.Her eyes watered as she looked back at his still form and dejected expression. She was really going to break his healing heart, and it killed her.
Ino’s control had vanished, leaving her vulnerable to her oncoming feelings. She needed time to think about the door she was about to enter, and getting worked up over it now would only make it worse.
What could’ve happened if her thoughts strayed any further?
Would she have acted upon her deep-rooted desires?
It doesn’t matter what I want. Sai just doesn’t need that...
“It’s not you, I promise. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s all me. I’m sorry-”
The door slammed shut behind her before he even had a chance to think over it.
And that makes this one shot complete. Angsty as hell. I hope that I did Ino justice with this one. I didn’t want to break Sai’s heart, but it had to be done for the sake of forwarding the plot
Also to properly convey, Christmas Eve is a romantic holiday where couples go out and spend time with one another, similarly to the western Valentine’s day. Not yet sure when the next entry will be posted, but it is coming. I do have multiple ideas for how the story develops after this occurrence. Hopefully I’ll have enough content to get through until the next milestone, the Sakura Hiden.
Thanks for sticking with me during what is considered a difficult time for me. And until the next one,
-Saikage
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Sola Gratia (3/?)
Masterlist
Rating / Warnings : General Audiences, no warning.
Fandom : Bram Stoker’s Dracula, BBC’s Dracula, various Dracula and vampire lore.
Part 3/? (2262 words)
Author’s notes : Eris starts to explore, and starts to understand castle and Count both hold some mysteries she is not sure she wants to resolve.
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My eyes fluttered open, and it took me a second to make sense of my surroundings. Sitting up with some difficulty, the soft mattress seemingly trying to keep me in, I set the covers aside, and threw my legs over the edge of the bed. The room was bathed in a strange light, almost green, and if the rain had stopped, the sky was still low with bulging clouds, threatening to burst open at any moment. The fire in the hearth had died out, only leaving a few red coals to shimmer softly.
I changed back into my new outfit. My usual clothes might have dried out overnight, but I had to admit I really loved the skirt. It had pockets, for hell’s sake. I had no idea what time it was, the dark skies making it impossible to assess the position of the sun. I figured if I were going to do anything, I might as well go check on the damage in my bag, which I decided to forget about last night. I left the room, trying to find my way back to the main hall. After a few hesitations and turnbacks, I finally found the main stairs, and reached my bag, still sitting near the door. As I feared, most of everything was soaked, even the food I’d taken with me. Had to throw that out, at some point. I found my phone, that I had miraculously put in a waterproof case. Still working, though on concerningly low battery, and had no signal. I sighed, and set it to extreme batter saver mode, hoping it would last until I could get back to civilisation.
I grabbed my remaining clothes to have them dry with the rest, and went to the dining room. There, the fire was still going strong, with a couple of fresh logs. At the end of the large banquet table, I was surprised to see a steaming pot of tea, and a plate of something close to scones, I believe. It was accompanied by a sheet of thick, high quality paper, folded in half to stand on its own, marked with my name in a neat, graceful handwriting.
“Dear Eris,
I expect you had a pleasant sleep. I have left for the most of the day, and will certainly not return before dark. Please enjoy some breakfast, as you must surely be famished. Feel free to explore should you wish it, as I have left the keys for you along with this letter.
I hope you will forgive me for my absence, and trust you will find the means for distraction.
Your devoted host,
Count Vlad Balaur.”
As I read the letter in a half hushed voice, warmth spread across my chest as I finished on his name. A glance at the table confirmed the presence of said keys. If I had to fumble through all of them every time I wanted to open a door, exploring just might take the whole day after all. I slipped them, along with the letter, in my pocket, and poured me a cup of tea. It was a different blend, black, yet flowery and soft. Perfectly well infused. The scones seemed to be fresh out of the oven, which made me wonder if he baked them himself, or had staff. I didn’t see anyone last night, but then again, it was late. If he was as rich as his house suggested, he just might. I figured I would look out for them. If anything, I had to compliment the chef. I don’t know if it was because I hadn’t eaten since yesterday at lunch, but eating these scones felt somewhat close to a religious experience.
After I became physically unable to eat any more, I decided to follow the Count’s idea, and explore. The castle was old, that much I could tell. I wasn’t an expert on architecture, but I was more or less convinced that the most ancient phase of construction had to be around the 13th, 14th century. The village probably built itself around it, so that would make some sense. Obviously, it had been updated, rebuilt, but the main structure was still visible. A lot of the rooms seemed almost… Stuck in time. A bit messy, crowded, as if the people who last left could come back any moment. Even so, the thick layer of dust dulling the colors made it clear that wasn’t going to happen.
I couldn’t help but feel some nostalgia. 15-year-old me would have been thrilled exploring a place like this. Not that I wasn’t, but at that time, I was so into urban exploration that I almost got dragged to the station a couple of times for tresspassing. My parents never knew, and just thinking of their reaction if they ever had had to go bail me out of jail for being a bastard goblin made me go into hysterics. Couldn’t help but picture my father, stilted up into some sad brown corduroy suit, mouth pinched in a lip-less line, having to pick up a ratty kid who just could not, would not, keep her grubby hands out of dangerous, rat infested abandonned houses. Or shut down psych wards, that one time. Pretty anti-climatic, that was.
I stifled a laughter, and shut the door behind me. Most of the rooms were boudoirs, spare bedrooms and such. There was one large room, covered in hunting trophies and animal skeletons. This one interested me the most. Inside, I noticed it was close to a cabinet of curiosities. Glass and wood shelves hosted a variety of skeletons, egg and sea shells, fossils, even some weirdly misshapen baby animals, floating in yellowed jars. The taxidermied animals seemed almost real, and at any moment, I expected them to start moving around. One shelf, built along the whole length of a wall, was dedicated to various skulls, ranging from standard game, elks, boars and whatnot, to more exotic things. One in particular caught my eye. At first glance, I thought it might be human, but I was very quick to change my mind.
The skull seemed fine, strong jaw still attached to the cranium, even a bit of mummifies tissue still attached in some spaces. However, the teeth… The teeth made no sense. Too many, too sharp, like they had been filed into curved, pointy shapes you only see in great apes, or carnivorous animals. Reviewing every strange cultural rite that could explain such a bizarre thing, I started to feel more and more uneasy. I almost felt like it was staring at me from the shadows, behind the hollow eye sockets. Not necessarily wanting to linger any more, I slipped out of the room, and locked the door after a few tries. Just to be sure, you know.
I had visited most of the rooms, but still one was pinching my curiosity. If I understood right, I could see its windows from those of the corridor leading to the dining room. Tall windows, almost church-like. I passed its door a few times, but was never able to find the key that unlocked it. The mind works like it works, and by the thrid time, I was almost ready to find a way to pick the lock, or break it down. Frustrated as ever, I gave a kick to the frame, that made me repress a cry of pain.
“Well now, what has that poor door done to deserve this ?”
I nearly jumped at the sound of the Count’s voice. He was standing behind me, a manner which seemed to have become a habit on his part.
“It was resisting my best attempts to pierce it’s secrets, which is a grave offense in my book”, I replied.
“Ah, I am afraid it was entirely my fault”, he admitted, and produced a key from his pocket, twisting it between his long, slender fingers.
A mischievous smile playing on his lips, he unlocked the double doors, and pushed them open, dramatically turning back to face me, his coat flaring around him, arms open.
“Welcome to my library.”
The room was filled with the last rays of the sun, setting on the mountain ridge, under the clouds. It caught the dust the Count must have raised as he entered in golden specs, floating up all around him. Everywhere, bookshelves stretched out up to the high ceilings, accessible by ladders and small bridgeways. The floor was covered in richly woven carpets, and at every comfortable corner sat armchairs and reading tables, agremented with chandeliers. There had to be a lifetime’s worth of reading within these four walls, and for a moment, I was unable to even walk in.
As I finally regained control of my limbs, I stubled inside, jogging to the nearest shelf. Leather-bound books, stacks of rolled parchment, gilted, worn, intricate, small, large, I didn’t even know where to look first. There were so many different languages, I couldn’t even recognize half. I let my fingers trail along the backs of the volumes, deciding on which to pick first.
“Do you like it ?”, the Count softly asked, as if not to disturb my frantic search.
I turned towards him, unable to stop smiling. He looked almost surprised, almost moved. The sun caught his eyes, revealing their deep blue color. I noticed his hair was now dark as night, cascading on his shoulders. Not a single gray hair in sight. He looked almost exactly like his portrait in the dining room, now that I thought about it. He must have noticed my internal trouble.
“Is there something wrong ?”, he asked, stepping closer to me.
“Nothing”, I replied, shaking my head. “You seem to be… Well, for lack of better terms, younger than yesterday.”
“Ah, a bruise to my ego !”, he exclaimed as he carried a hand to his heart. “I know I have left my younger days behind, but I have yet to be an old man.”
It had been a dark, stormy night, and I figured that by candlelight, my mind could have played tricks on me. Maybe I had been expecting a lonely old man so much, that he appeared that way, in my slightly frostbitten mind. I decidedly turned my attention to the shelves, and picked a volume. A bit worn, but the dark green of the leather, and the tiny golden patterns still vivid on the spine. As I read the title, it had me laughing to myself. Ὀδύσσεια, Homer’s Odyssey, in the “original” speech.
“Do you read ancient greek ?”, the Count asked, now looking over my shoulder.
“I have had the misfortune of learning it. Since then, I fell out of practice, I think.”
I turned over the pages, the familiar words coming back to mind without having to really read them. It was with this story, and the Illiad, that my parents taught me. I knew them almost by heart at that point. His tall silhouette, behind me, felt almost protective. I was nearly tempted to let myself lean back against his chest. I could feel soft strands of hair brushing past my shoulder, making a shiver run down my spine.
“Are you cold ?”, he asked. “I am afraid these walls tend to not hold the heat very well. I could have a fire lit here, if you want.”
His tone was almost tender, concerned. I had no time to answer, before I heard the rustling of fabric, and felt the weight of his coat placed over my shoulders. His hands lightly slid down my arms, flattening the soft, tightly woven wool over me. The sudden warmth did nothing for my shivering, and I nervously turned another page. My finger slipped on the edge, which cut right through the soft skin.
I cursed under my breath, watching red bead at the cut, and run toward my palm. The hands of the Count, still over my shoulders, suddenly gripped them tight, almost enough to hurt me. I could swear I heard a growl from deep inside his chest. He took my hand in his, examining the wound. A slow stream of red came trickling down his own fingers. He was leaning closer to me, so much that I could feel his breathing on the nape of my neck, heavy, trembling.
“You should be more careful”, he told me, his voice barely more than a whisper, deep, and dark.
I turned back, freeing myself of his grip, and tried to step away. My back hit the shelves, my injured hand held up to my chest, the other still holding the book so tight my knuckles went white. He once again took my hand, this time holding a cloth to the cut, red slowly seeping into the white cotton. He kept his eyes riveted to the makeshift band-aid. They didn’t seem so blue anymore. He took a deep breath, which sounded almost like a snarl as he let it out. He whispered something in romanian I couldn’t make out, let go, and suddenly, he was gone. Leaving me breathless, confused, holding the now mostly red cotton square to my hand. The edges of the shelf dug into my back. I inhaled sharply, as if I’d been holding my breath the entire time, which could easily have been the case.
I closed the book, and slipped it back onto the shelf. The library was silent, if it weren’t for the faint sound of a crackling fire, in the hearth.
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Taglist : @carydorse @angelicdestieldemon @bloodhon3yx @thewondernanazombie @battocar @moony691 @mjlock
#fanfiction#dracula fanfiction#dracula bbc#dracula castlevania#bram stoker's dracula#vampire x human#slow burn#fanfic#heheh things are gonna go down soon!!!#i'd love to hear what you thing of it#don't hesitate sending me asks or stuff like that !
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So I saw this on tumblr and it inspired me to creat the Director’s (Writer’s) cut for some of my fanfics Please request any chapters from any fanfics I have writen. This was fun!
Chapter 1: The Stupid Dare
So looking back I can’t believe I wrote this December 28th 2019. It’s crazy how time flies. Looking back I don’t remember what inspired the character Delilah. I think I was watching an episode of the TV show Psych where they go to a catholic school and the idea kinda popped in my head.
So as many of you all probably don’t know is that I love the idea of the butterfly effect. Now you’re probably thinking, hey Bailey your story has NOTHING to do with time travel, and you’re right! This kinda stems off of that idea how one small action can cause a ripple effect and change your life. That’s what The Dare is about, the little choices that you don’t ever think are big ones.
I almost didn’t write this fanfic because I was worried about having two fanfics open. At the time I was writing another fanfic called After Dusk which I haven’t touched in ages and didn’t really have any direction for it. Someday I might go back and rewrite it, but for now it will stay where it is. Before I start all of this I just want to say thank you to anyone who has ever read, messaged me, rebooted, or commented. The Dare wouldn’t be where it is a without y’all. So let’s get this going!
It was all a dare.
It was all a stupid dare that shouldn’t have even been said.
That dare was the reason why Delilah and Beth walked the streets of the strip trying to choose the least intimidating bar on the strip to enter.
For me this kinda referenced this one time a friend of mine and I were bar hopping in Colorado and we 100% chose the bar we went to because I looked the least scary.
It all started when after the Friday’s afternoon service when Mark’s younger brother ran into the storage room, telling second hand stories about seeing the Devil on sunset strip.
During every story, Beth would look over to Delilah and Matt to see if they were still trying to contain their laughter. Noticing his friend’s hidden laughter at his younger brother’s stories, Mark ushered his younger brother out of the room to save him from the ridicule and back to play with the other little kids who were a couple rooms down.
They had all heard those stupid stories before. At 18 Mark knew the stories were metaphors or something stupid along those lines, but to his naive 8 year old brother, they were real.
“How about next time you guys don’t make fun of my little brother. He is only eight years old and doesn’t know any better,” Mark almost wined as he plopped down on the large armchair.
Ahh back to when Mark wasn’t a complete piece of trash and dick. You know total bottom tier human. I really didn’t like writing what happened in later chapters, but it had to be done.
“We weren’t laughing,” Delilah said between giggles making Mark roll his eyes.
“Fine, since you think it’s so funny that my brother is scared of those stupid stories then why don’t you go visit Sunset Strip since you’re not scared,” Mark’s words caused the room to go silent.
They weren’t afraid of the ‘Devil’ on Sunset Strip. They were afraid of something more ‘reasonable’, they were afraid of getting caught sneaking out.
Mark sat cockily in his chair as he watched Delilah contemplate it. Maybe she had come to her senses and would go apologize to his little brother. There was no way she would accept the challenge. She wasn’t that stupid. They all knew the consequences of one of them got caught.
Bold of Mark to assume Delilah wouldn’t do something stupid. She hadn’t seen her older brother in years and she wouldn’t miss the chance to see him again. They were close, and she had been trying to figure out an excise for months. She also is a girl and Mark was an attractive guy who she had a crush on and she 100% wanted to impress Mark. As someone who has also done stupid things to impress a guy I can kinda relate. She also wanted to see if she would run into her older brother who had left many years ago. She was one of only a couple of people who knew what actually she was so
“What do if I get into one of the bars?” Mark leaned in closer on the edge of his seat as his smirk grew into a grin. She wanted to make it harder?
Was she seriously thinking about doing it? This was going to be an easy win.
“I will do all of your chores for a month, and if you can’t get in then you’ll do my chores for a month,” Delilah reached forward instantly ready to agree to Mark’s dare. For Delilah that meant the potential for no more babysitting on Saturdays, but for Mark that meant the potential for not mopping the church floors for a month.
The room was silent with the raised stakes. They had wagered chores when playing games before, but never a months work.
Jesus Christ, Beth said under her breathe as she watched Delilah agree to the terms.
“So Matt, what do you think we should do with all of this free time we are going to have,” Mark leaned back in his chair, a smirk covering his face.
“Wait we? I only agreed to do Mark’s not Matt’s too,” Delilah was now on the edge of her seat, panic in her eye and pillow in her hand ready to smack Mark.
“Delilah Marie Sanderson, you place that pillow down and apologize to Mark for threatening him or if you want you can go upstairs and pray for forgiveness,” Delilah sighed as she heard her mother scold her.
She wasn’t actually going to hit Mark with the pillow, and even if she did it’s a pillow. It wouldn’t have hurt.
Part of Delilah wanted to tell her mom that it was only a joke and that she wasn’t actually going to hit him, but she had fought that fight hundreds of times with her mother and had lost every single one. Talking back would only make matters worse.
Foreshadowing?
Delilah took a deep breath and looked towards Mark, “I apologize for my unladylike behavior. Will you forgive me?”
“I do and thank you for your apology, Delilah,” Mark cockily replied.
The second her mother left the back room, Delilah threw the pillow at Mark in attempt to wipe the smirk off of his face.
Unable to control herself and her laughter, Beth fell out of the wooden chair that she was sitting in.
“What did you mean by we?” Delilah asked again waiting for either Mark or Matt to respond.
“Well we assumed it’s the usual 2 versus 2,” Matt shrugged immediately ending Beth’s laughter.
“Excuse me?” Beth only slightly raised her voice slightly in fear of Delilah’s mom coming back from the other room to scold them again.
“You’re excused,” Beth rolled her eyes as Mark and Matt laughed at Mark’s stupid joke.
“What are you afraid you couldn’t get in?” Mark asked Beth.
Beth sat back on her chair and replied, “No I can get in, easily.”
The lie rolled off her tongue in a little more panicked of a tone than she had expected.
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For this next part when writing I tried to think of what Delilah and Beth would think of as like what the strip would be. I kinda channeled that inner middle schooler where we were first learning about makeup and wanted to look like the high schoolers.
Delilah followed Beth upstairs to Beth’s bedroom where their alleged sleepover would be taking place.
Once in the room with the door closed, Delilah grabbed the variety of clothing that she brought to potentially alter.
“Which one would be the easiest to modify?” Beth looked at the variety of black dresses that Delilah had brought.
“They’re all kinda the same,” Delilah commented as she held the dresses in front of her. Beth let out a small chuckle and grabbed one at random.
Delilah watched as Beth cut and sewed the modified outfit.
To say that Delilah was nervous was an understatement. She was nervous that they would get caught trying to leave after curfew. She was worried that Beth’s or her parents would catch them in their lie of a cover story that was a sleep over.
Dinner came and went with no suspicion, besides Beth’s mom asked what they were sewing which Delilah answered with, “Beth is adding some color and designs to one of my old dresses.” It was a rehearsed answer, but Beth’s mother didn’t bat an eye at Delilah’s response, as expected.
Rehearsing answer to questions is something Delilah has been doing since day 1. What’s the saying? Overprotective parents raise sneaky kids?
The next two hours were filled with the two girls actually ‘adding some color’ to an old dress, so when asked tomorrow they had proof.
Then, right after they said their good nights to Beth’s family, they got to work on their makeup.
Both girls knew very little about Sunset Strip, but from what they did know, they thought did they an ok job at mimicking.
Saying an ok job is definitely giving Beth and Delilah too much credit.
They both knew that black was a common color on the strip, so both girls wore black with heavy black eyeliner.
They also knew that people on the strip showed skin, and this where Delilah was getting second thoughts about the bet.
Delilah had lost track of the amount of apologies that Beth had given her. Beth has transformed her black dress that rested at the knees to a half shirt and a float black skirt that barely covered Delilah’s butt. One light breeze would leave her exposed.
So Beth purposefully shortened the skirt in hopes of scaring Delilah to not wanting to go. Beth didn’t have the courage to tell Delilah no because she knew Delilah would do it without her. In her eyes Beth was trying to do what she thought was right, and protect Delilah. She was doing it out of kindness (in her eyes) hoping to scare Delilah because Beth couldn’t say no to to Delilah. Growing up it was always her and Delilah. They were both homeschooled and lived closer to each other, so they spent most of their lives together. She was also worried that Delilah would find her brother (Delilah told her the truth one night), and she was worried that Delilah would leave. Later on we slowly learn more about their relationship, but from what is currently known Delilah’s life is very different from Beth’s own.
“I’m sorry,” Beth said again as she caught Delilah messing with the length of the skirt.
“You’re fine, we don’t have time to fix it, so it will just have to work,” Delilah sighed as she tried to pull the skirt down a little more. She wished she had taken Beth up on the offer of trying the skirt on earlier, but now it was too late to be turning the sewing machine back on and make alterations. If the sewing machine turned on, someone would want to know what they were really up to.
Beth and Delilah stared at themselves in the mirror barely recognizing their own reflection.
“I’m going to Hell,” Beth unknowingly said aloud.
At this moment Beth realized that Delilah was actually going through with it. She was terrified. She wasn’t going to hell for going to the strip, she was going to hell because she knew she was going to abandon Delilah in the end. If she stayed with Delilah she would also go to hell so this was a lose lose situation.
“Well at least we will be in Hell together then,” Delilah replied with a reassuring smile.
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After a long day od questioning and interrogation, @diegojaimechavez surprises Gen with a phone call and spend the night chatting
It was a long, never-ending day. Gen was ushered into an interrogation room the moment they stepped into the building and not so long after the FBI showed up too, and it had begun. She thought she was tired before, but dealing with the FBI sucked every bit of remaining energy out of her. It wasn't the same as the interrogation all those years ago, but the feelings were the same - the extreme tiredness, both emotionally and physically, feeling like she was the shittiest person, the confusion and the knowledge that she was missing so much, even now she was missing so much information, the emptiness and weirdly feeling dirty to her core. She was sure there were moments when the FBI looked at her as a potential ally to Vivien and the syndicate, that was inevitable, but she wasn't sure what made them realize that wasn't the case, or even if they realized it or if they still considered her another suspect.
They barely took breaks, but during one of them Al brought her a cup of coffee, which she was more than grateful for (though she really wished it could have been Diego who brought it, just seeing him for a few moments would have been nice, but she assumed that he wasn't allowed anywhere near her during the interrogation, not that it would have made any difference). While Al brought the coffee to her, she quietly ask him to make sure some kind of medical professional would check out Diego and his injuries, and he promised her with a look that Diego most likely would have recognized, but to Gen it was just a kind face agreeing to what she asked.
She lost her sense of time completely by the time the FBI released her that night with the promise that they'd be contacting her about any questions they had so far and that in the next couple of days she would be informed about the next steps and what would happen to her from here on out. She felt like a washed rag as she finally headed out of the interrogation room, and to her surprised her eyes immediately found Diego. She expected him to be home, or at least out of here already. "Hey, what are you still doing here?" she asked him once she headed over to him. "You're not in any trouble, right?"
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Diego expected Gen to be whisked away for processing, and then questioning once the FBI arrived, he recognized a couple of the agents, but merely nodded at them. He knew he had to let them conduct their work, just as much as he had to conduct his. But Gen was his work, and so once Gen was taken away, Diego went to locate Al. He spoke extensively with his boss and with the North California Director as well, about Gen's well-being, her state of mind, her situation. About Vivien showing up without anyone expecting it. And reluctantly he even brought up Tyler Ellis, knowing Al was already familiar with the trouble-maker from their past. He told them Rita should be coming soon, to share what she knew as well.
Everything seemed to be going well - although there was only so much that Diego could do about how the FBI spoke with Gen, at least Al offered to take her in some coffee at one point.
"And about those kids from Sunnymead-" Diego started in immediately after Al returned. His boss held up a hand.
"In due time, Di, you're going a mile a minute. And you look like shit. You sure you don't need anyone to take a look at that mug of yours? It's even uglier than usual, no wonder you scared those kids."
Diego gave his boss a wry look and waved off the concern. Al opened his mouth, looking like it was going to say something - but instead, he changed his mind and said something else. "I talked with Agent Karmeni. She said your girl's gonna be staying here in the city for a couple of days, while they get things sorted. And yeah - don't worry, you'll be staying with her."
On the brink of insisting he should, Diego relaxed when Al assured him that he'd be there. "I want to stick by her to the end. After all this shit that's happened, she needs someone around who she can trust. Or she'll go rabbity, Al. She can't just get shunted around again like a pawn on a chessboard. Not after all this."
Al looked at Diego carefully, and Diego avoided his boss' eyes, knowing that look. He knew if he made eye contact, then Al might feel responsible for saying something that Diego didn't want to hear, not right now. So he kept his eyes steadfastly focused on middle-ground, not filling up the silence but also not allowing Al to see any vulnerability in his eyes, no softness. He knew Al could read him too well. And he also knew this wasn't the first time Al had seen him like this, about a woman he was assigned to protect.
Finally with a sigh, Al spoke, raising his hands to his eyes like horse blinders. "Without addressing the elephant in the room - yet - we'll see what we can work out, Diego. Based on what the FBI need from her - and she's gonna have to go through another psych eval as well. So we'll consult with the experts and then go from there. But if you want me to support you in staying on as her handler then....I'll do that. But that elephant's gonna come charging over sooner or later, and when it does, Di, we're gonna have to talk about it. You hear me?"
Diego finally looked up at his boss, giving Al a squinting but appreciative smile. It was small and tentative, but Al knew Diego well. "Crystal clear. Al - thanks."
Al pointed a finger at him. "To be continued, son. Now it looks like they're releasing your girl. Go on."
Diego didn't hesitate, because he saw the door opening too through the glass walls of the office building. He nodded at Al once more then crossed the halls until he got to Gen and the FBI agents. Diego restrained himself long enough for the FBI agents to get out of earshot, but Gen apparently didn't bother with restraint as she floated right over to him, surprise in her exhausted eyes.
"I'm fine, just went through a lot of paperwork while you were in there." He gave Gen a huffy look. "Where else would I be? C'mon. You're done for the day, and you gotta be back here bright any early tomorrow. We're going. You need food and a shower. And maybe some ambien."
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Diego reassured her that he was doing just fine, just working on paperwork and a huge relief flooeded through Gen's body. For a moment she was worried that the FBI took him, too, and tried to twist the narrative in a way that was more than negative towards Diego. That was the last thing she would have wanted, but thankfully it was just some paperwork. Well, probably an extreme amount of paperwork, if he was still here, so long after they've arrived to the offices.
But then Diego asked where else he would be as if it was stupid of her to even assume he would be anywhere else, and it staggered Gen for a moment because... well, she knew he said he would want to stick around for all of this, but she also assumed that meant he would come to New York, make sure everything went down smoothly. Not, say, wait for her for hours without end while she was sitting in an interrogation room, the FBI drilling her. She figured he'd get some rest, she was certain he needed it, she would get escorted to some motel or something and then they'd meet and talk the next day - if she would be allowed.
So she just stood there, kind of confused for a few moments while Diego was already moving towards the exit and she had to shake herself out of her surprise and rush to catch up with him. "Yeah, sure, all of that sounds really good." She would have killed for a shower, anything to wash off all the dirt she felt on herself, and now that Diego mentioned food, she felt like she could actually properly eat, as for the sleep... god, a full night's rest possibly without nightmares was a dream.
"Actually, do you think we could get some burgers on the way to-- where are we going exactly?" she asked, frowning as they exited the building and headed for Diego's car, which felt like the most welcoming sights she's seen in hours, for sure.
She looked at him for a few moments after they settled in before she said, "Thank you. For helping me and sticking around. Really can't thank you enough."
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"We can get whatever you want," Diego said, although the generousity was mostly in sentiment than action. If she wanted to go back to Sunnymead, for example, he would've refused. They had to stay in the city, close to the offices. But really he could tell that Gen just seemed too exhausted to do much but follow his lead. Ironic, considering how she'd pushed and resisted and challenged him constantly, for nearly a year now. He almost wished for those old days of arguing, if only because she was safe and comfortable in Sunnymead.
But Diego also had to remind himself that progress and change was uncomfortable and disturbing, but that didn't mean it was bad. Vivien Salazar was arrested, Darcy Palmer was no more. Wasn't that a good thing? Or wouldn't it eventually be a good thing for Gen? If, by some miracle, it was determined that she wouldn't need to stay in witness protection, then she'd be free. Wasn't that what she wanted? Even more importantly, wasn't it what she deserved?
He stopped at her franchise restaurant of choice, parking so she could go inside and order whatever she wanted. Diego gave her $20 and told her to get him something too. By now, after months of serving him, Gen knew what sorts of things he liked to eat. As he waited, watching her closely, he made one more phone call to Al. This would be a huge favour, but surprisingly it took little convincing of Al for his boss to say he'd see what he could do.
After Gen gathered her feast, Diego took her to a drugstore to pick up some toiletries, and some fresh clothes. After that it was checking into the designated motel. It wasn't anything fancy or special, but it was spartan and clean. The clean was the most important part. It was a motel used by the authorities enough to know that it was secure, and had good vantage points and escape routes. Diego cased the room first before he let Gen settle in.
"Go take a shower, then you can eat afterwards, hm?" he suggested, because he believed food always tasted better when one didn't feel dirty and grungy. "I can take a shower afterwards, don't worry." Once Gen agreed, Diego sighed and inspected his face in the motel mirror, then gently pressed his fingers between his legs. Jesus, that still hurt. Vivien had quite the high kick, and he'd probably be feeling it right into tomorrow morning. But he didn't linger on his injuries when All called him again, and gave him the information he wanted to get.
It was maybe just a minor thing, but Diego was elated that it could happen, and so fast. Al could sometimes work miracles, and Diego always appreciated it. "Damn, thanks," he exhorted, hanging up just as Gen came out of the bathroom. She still looked exhausted, but at least she looked clean.
"Hey, come over here for a second." Diego sat on the edge of the bed, letting her sit next to him. He showed her his phone. "In a few minutes, I'm going to get a call. That's it, just a call, no video - er, facetime - or anything. But the call's going to come in from your brother, Benji. Just so you guys can finally talk, hm? I thought - I figured maybe you'd want to hear a familiar voice right now and...ah..." Diego scratched the back of his neck.
"If you don't got it in you to talk to Benjamin right now that's fine. Totally fine I understand maybe I was just getting a little ahead of myself with setting this up, hm? It's fine, just lemme know now, because I can tell his handler not to call. Just - I thought it might help if - if you heard...if you got to talk to...ah...."
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Gen just sank into the car seat and spent most of the car ride in a comfortable quiet with Diego as she was looking out the window and barely taking in anything she saw. The city was dark, the lights periodically lighting up parts of the streets and it probably looked beautiful and interesting, but Gen barely saw any of it. Her brain was running the events of the last day of loop, hyperanalyzing everything Juliana and Phoenix told her, and all the different questions the FBI asked and how her answer must have come across, if she could have given a better answer to any of them.
She quickly got them some food, not needing any sort of direction from Diego about his order either - she saw what kind of food he prefered and kept going back to in the Grub, it wasn't hard to figure out what he would like the most, and then they hit up a drug store and got some basic supplies and she really hoped she could just burn everything she was wearing in that moment. She never wanted to lay eyes on those clothes ever again, let alone wear them.
She was mostly operating on instinct and her body automatically taking her where she needed to go. She felt the exhaustion in her bones. She was sure once she hit the bed, though, she wouldn't really be able to fall asleep, not without at least some sleeping pills, and for once she was going to take them happily because she needed that release that a hopefully dreamless, full night's rest could offer for her. She honestly couldn't remember the last time she had that. Probably before everything turned to shit all those years ago.
After they got everything, they finally headed to the hotel, and she just nodded along to everything Diego was saying as she set the food on the small table and headed right into the bathroom to take a shower. The hot water pouring onto her skin offered such relief she didn't even realize she needed and for the first few minutes she just stood in the shower cabin, letting the water run on her without her doing anything. And once she managed to get herself to move, she spent at least fifteen, maybe even twenty minutes just scrubbing at her body because no matter how many times she washed herself, she just didn't feel clean. It didn't feel like she got all of Vivien off of her and she compulsively wanted to get rid of every bit of that woman from her skin, from her memory and her past and present. But since that wasn't possible, she would have been happy with just washing away everything that happened.
Even though it never felt enough, eventually she stopped and got out of the shower and got into the pajama (one that included a plaid short and a loose tank top with some kind of drawn figure, it was the first thing she could grab at the drugstore when they were there) and with her wet hair falling all over her shoulder, she headed back out. "Sorry, I kind of took my time, but you should still have some hot water."
Instead of taking a shower himself (it didn't even fully register for her at that point that he would be taking a shower in the same place, which meant he didn't have his own room and they would have to share that single bed he was sitting on at the moment), he called her over to sit down next to him, and her mind immediately jumped into alert mode. "What happened? Is everything okay?" She was already imagining the worst possible scenarios - Vivien escaped, Phoenix and Juliana in danger again.
He quickly started explaining to her what was going to happen in a few minutes, though, and Gen went quiet in just a few moments, her hearts beating faster and faster, running her fingers through her hair to at least do something with her hands suddenly this felt like a dream all over again. Did she pass out in the car and now she was just dreaming about what she wanted so desperately to happen? She reached over and pinched her own wrist - but no, it hurt, this couldn't be a dream. Diego was telling her that she could talk to her brother.
She could talk to Benji.
Gen could feel her hands starting to shake and tears brimming in her eyes for the first time in a really long time not because she was scared or stressed or on the verge of a break down, but because she was elated. She couldn't put it into words even if she tried to, but if she wasn't in love with Diego already, she would have fallen in love with him for this. She couldn't imagine just how much pull he had to make to make this happen and she could never thank him enough for this.
And somehow he managed to read her quietness as something that she might not like his gesture and he turned sheepish and started reassuring her that it wasn't required, she could postpone it for later too and fuck, she loved this man so much it felt like she might just burst and she kept meaning to say something because really, she can't stay silent forever and she needed to convey just how grateful and happy and joyful she felt in that moment for this but no words seemed to be enough, no words could ever be enough for this, and she just wanted to lean closer and kiss him, but that was not possible, she couldn't screw things up for him in the same moment when he's doing something so important for her, so instead she ended up just leaning in and throwing her hands around him, hugging him close and hard and tight, burying her face into his neck for a few moments and hoping that he understood everything she couldn't find the words for.
"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so much. I just-- thank you," she kept saying over and over again because what else could she do than hold onto him and thank him for all of this.
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Gen was so completely still and quiet, Diego was fairly sure he'd done it this time. He'd sent Gen spiralling into some sort of catatonic state of shock. He really should have known better - after everything she'd just been through in the space of 12 hours, after losing two people she cared about, and finding her ex-girlfriend alive only to realize Vivien was a bad person, and destroying an identity she'd cultivated for four years...now this? Spring a phone call to her brother, after she'd been beaten up so thoroughly both emotionally and mentally? He realized then that he was a fool to think it could help her. All this offer did was probably terrify the poor thing that she'd fuck this up as well and ruin her relation with her brother now too.
"Dar - Gen, I'm -" Diego started to say, wanting to shove the phone into his pocket so Gen wouldn't have to look at the accusing object. But then suddenly her arms were around him, and her face buried against the crook of his neck. For a moment Diego braced himself, thinking she had turned to slap and smack at him in frustration and hurt. He was expecting her to yell at him for putting her through this new fresh torture - but she wasn't slapping him. Or yelling. Instead, she just held him close.
And eventually Diego relaxed, and slid his own hand across her back. She was hugging him. God Jesus above, she was happy. He could've kissed her then if it wasn't for the fact that his face hurt, and he had stale cigarettes-and-coffee breath while she was clean and minty. But he held her tightly, and gingerly pat her back.
"Of course, of course..." he muttered, feeling suddenly awkward. She was so happy, and it made Diego's heart ache for so many different reasons. Fortunately, his phone rang then, and Diego had to let her go to answer it.
"Yeah. Okay, sure," Diego said over the phone. "Alright, put him on." Diego held the phone out to Gen then, and he spoke gently to her. "He'll be on soon. I'm going to take a shower, give you two a bit of privacy, hm? Take your time, his handler will keep a track of the phone call for us. You'll be alright?"
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At first it was like hugging a dead piece of wood, Diego was just sitting there, unmoving and Gen was about to move back, not wanting to force her touch and embrace on him when he finally wrapped his hands around her and give her a sheepish pat on her back. In any other situation she would have probably over analyzed that pat and came to the conclusion that it was even further proof that he didn't want anything from her, they've been in each others arms plenty of time before after all, and now he could barely hug her back along with that pat? It surely would have been clear signs in her mind. But now aside from the sheer gratitude she felt towards Diego, her mind was hyper focusing on Benji and the fact that just in a couple of moments she could finally talk to him, hear his voice, make sure he's okay. Diego couldn't have given her a better surprise for the end of the day. Or for any other time, really.
She pulled back when the phone rang, pulling her legs under her, her eyes immediately focusing on the phone and Diego, her hands shaking a little bit from excitement. It felt like it took forever for Diego to hand the phone over to her and it felt like no time has passed at all, and she kept nodding to everything Diego was saying. "Yeah, I'll be fine, I promise. Thank you so much," she said again with a smile and waited for Diego go into the bathroom before she scooted up to the end of the bed and leaned against the header.
Suddenly she was nervous, not really sure what she would even say. If Benji would even talk to her. Maybe she'd pick the phone up and his handler would be waiting for her, telling her that he didn't want to talk and she couldn't do a single thing about it or even blame him for it. All kinds of different scenarios flooded through her head and overwhelmed her and she had to force herself to push all of them out of her brain because anything, even if it was just a simple hello from Benji, would be amazing at this point and she knew she could be happy. She just wanted to hear his voice.
She took a deep breath and put the phone to her ear, listening for a few moments before carefully speaking, "Hello?"
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It hadn’t been long since Benji had fallen asleep when he heard a knock at the door. He decided to ignore it. The few people he was close to - which he thought was a relative term - knew that he wasn’t ever up late. What was the point in it? It wasn’t like there was much that he liked to do outside of the house. Staying in with Finley was ideal to him. He pressed his face against the pillow again. They’d leave eventually.
... except, they didn’t. Each time there was another knock at the door, he swore his pulse kicked up a beat. Was he going to die? Was he seriously going to die as a math teacher in Texas? He moved to grab his phone so that he could call someone in case of an emergency when he realized how many missed calls and unread messages he had from the agent working his case. The last message said that he needed to open the door immediately. Throwing a pillow across the bed at his sleeping husband, Benji sighed. “Why does my ringtone wake you up every time except for the time it needs to?!” Finley mumbled something which Benji wasn’t sure was in English. He climbed out of the bed, looking back to make sure that he was being followed and walked over to the door.
Pressing his palms flat on the door, Benji decided to look through the peephole. There were so many things which could go wrong and... nope. That was definitely Abigail. Opening the door slowly, Benji didn’t bother trying to make eye contact with her as she stepped inside. “In... uh, in my defense, this usually doesn’t happen. I’ve - we’ve - answered your calls later than this. What’s - what’s so important though?”
Once his sister’s name came from Abigail’s lips, Benji wasn’t sure what was happening. He was hearing bits and pieces, words like Gen and Vivien, but didn’t hear the rest of it. He couldn’t even say how he’d ended up seated on the couch with Finley’s hand on his knee. For a moment, he thought that she had to be dying for any of this to be happening. She couldn’t be, right? There was only one way to find out. Truthfully, he hadn’t felt present in his body until he noticed Abigail thrusting the phone his way.
Fumbling with the phone, Benji held it up - mindful of the fact that it was on speaker so that the handler would be able to hear what was happening in the conversation. The moment Gen’s voice came through the speaker, he started crying. “Genevieve... Gen... what the fuck is going on?!”
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The moment Gen heard Benji's sporadic, worried voice, she burst into silent tears while a grin spread across her face. It really was Benji and he sounded distant but so close at the same time, and worried about her and it didn't really hit her until that moment that he must have been scared shitless if his handler just burst in through the door and gave him the phone with little to no explanation, but that was okay because he was on the other end of the phone and they were talking and she could reassure him all by herself.
"Benji, hi. On my god, it's so good to hear your voice. I-- I'm okay now," and for that moment she was and felt like she could take on the world all by herself even if the next day all of that might be gone. "A lot of, well a lot of things are happening, but I'm okay, you don't have to worry about me. I'm safe and I'm good and-- are you okay? How are you doing?"
"Gen, we got the gist of what happened, but I doubt your brother heard any of it past your name, so could you maybe...?" A different, familiar voice came through the phone, and Gen breathed a sigh of relief. Finley was there with Benji, that was good, that meant he was not alone completely. When the FBI placed her in Sunnymead she tried to figure out if Finley was allowed to go with Benji or not, but everyone refused to tell her anything. "Really glad to hear you are doing okay, though."
"Finley, really glad to hear you too. But okay, Benji, I swear I'm okay. It's just-- don't freak out but turns out Vivien is alive and she found me, but she's arrested now and I'm okay. I spent the day talking to the FBI and they're gonna figure out what's next in the next few days." She tried to keep it as short and to the point as possible both because she didn't want to worry Benji more than necessary and because she didn't want to sound her time talking about Vivien and what happened, she wanted to hear from Benji.
"But none of that matters, are you okay, are you guys are okay? Happy? How's your life? Tell me something, tell me anything."
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To hear that she was safe sent a wave of relief over Benji. Still, he began to bite at the bandages wrapped around his fingers - an attempt to keep him from biting his nails. It was attempt number 500. It might as well be anyway. “I’m fine,” he mumbled. There would be more details because he didn’t know how long he had to talk to her. Whatever stubbornness he was trying to hold on to could only go for so long before he spent the whole call being angry with her.
He had lost so much. He might have Finley, but he also needed Gen and Olivia... Olivia who had passed away as a result of this whole mess. His parents had never been people he was close to and he doubted he would talk to them much if they were around. How many nights had he cried and wished he could talk to his sister. Bitterness wasn’t going to ruin this chance.
“She’s alive?! And don’t tell me not to freak out because you know me! I’m not going to keep calm about this!” He glances up and saw Abigail staring at him. She certainly wasn’t one of the people with whom Benji was totally comfortable with. She’d never seen him like this. “So you’re... what now? Did you talk to her? Where are you? What have you been doing?!”
And Gen had questions of her own. Benji sighed softly. “I — yes. We’re happy. As happy as can be expected. Um, married? Also they made me be a math teacher! Someone asked me what 12 times 12 was the other day and it took me a good thirty seconds to figure it out!”
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Benji's reassurance came quietly and not with the most positive tone of Benji's voice, but Gen didn't care in that moment, she was just happy to hear her brother confirm he was okay. Or, well, as okay as he can be. She doubted either of them would fully be okay like they used to be after all of this.
Gen couldn't help it, she let out a small, quiet chuckle at Benji's frustration about her trying to calm him down. She could tell that Benji was angry, probably holding back all the hate he had in him for her over everything that happened, but even that anger was welcomed because at least they were talking. At least she could hear him being angry. And really, it was kind of stupid of her to tell him not to freak out, he was already in the middle of freaking out.
"Yeah, okay, that's fair. Just-- don't stress over it too much, please? Finley, please make sure he isn't losing sleep over this."
"I'll do my best," he interjected.
"But yeah, apparently somehow she survived, I'm not exactly clear on that front. She showed up at my apartment and we talked a bit, yeah." Could have spent more time talking, but she did some stupid things instead, not that she was going to get into that. "Not a lot, she wanted me to go with her, thought we could go back to how things were. I told her no. And I'm in a motel right now, I don't think I'm allowed to say more on the where."
"I'd prefer it if you kept quiet on that one, Genevieve, the least all of you know about each other's locations, the better, at least until further notice," a woman confirmed in a stern, matter of fact voice - probably their handler.
"Alright, so yeah, just a motel. Far away from where I was originally placed. And uh... fuck, suddenly I can't think of anything I did. I have a diner! Well, more like ran a diner, still not sure how that will go now. Honestly, I had a really boring life until now." She stayed quiet for a moment before she added. "I really missed you."
Happy and married. That was the best news Benji could have possibly given him. It calmed and relaxed her, and made her happier than she thought could be possible a couple of hours ago. There was an underlying sadness added to it, though - she wished she could have been there, wished she could have seen Benji and Finley get married, and more than anything wished Olivia could have been there too.
"Married? Congratulation, guys, that's so great! When did it happen? How did it happen? I'm so sorry I missed it. Did you guys manage to have a good celebration at least?" She frowned when he mentioned being a math teacher. "Why would anyone make you a math teacher? Did they know you have no clue about numbers? How are you even doing it properly? Do they give you an earpiece and whisper help you through it?"
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Benji would stress over it. He knew Gen was safe now, but he also knew it wouldn’t be the case forever. He could fixate on the good, but Vivien’s arrest wouldn’t make everything go back to normal. Things were never going to be normal again. This was their new normal.
“Finley isn’t going to know if I’m losing sleep! He sleeps like a rock!” Benji insisted. It wasn’t a lie either. They would end up in bed and, the first moment they laid in silence, Finley would be out like a light. Benji was bad about sleep though. He’d lie there and looked up at the ceiling.
He shook his head. “At least you told her no. You’ve never made the best choices with her. You know she made me uncomfortable!” It had been easy for Gen to write that off, however, because a lot of people made him feel that way. “Are you sure that’s all you did? Because if you - if you did something which might put me or god forbid Finley in danger, that’s on you. Just like with Liv.” He said it harshly bur the look on his face was more sad than it was angry. The thought had been running through his mind over the past few weeks and he wasn’t able to let go of it. He knew, logically, that she wouldn’t have done anything to hurt the people she cared about. There was no way she could have known what Vivien was up to... but someone had to be blamed and she was on the receiving end.
“A motel? Are they - do you think they’re moving you? Or is it... over now?” His brows were furrowed. That certainly couldn’t be the case. Didn’t she have associates involved? Logic wasn’t always his strong suit though. Benji led with his heart.
He shot the agent a dirty look, but knew she could end the call the instant he stepped out of line. “A diner? You weren’t... you weren’t by yourself, right? You have people? God, I hope you have people.” If Benji couldn’t be there, someone had to be for her. The level of closeness that he had with her was irreplaceable, but there were women in his life who he was... relatively close to. (For Benji, that was good.)
A soft laugh left him. The whole thing had been an ordeal and involved a lot of arguing with people they shouldn’t have in a million years. It worked out for the best. “They said they were going to split us up because we weren’t married so... I said we were engaged.” He had blurted it it out without any plan whatsoever. It wasn’t a romantic, yet it wasn’t something that he regretted at all. “Um, not really. We kind of got married legally then we kind of... celebrated privately?” It could have come out wrong, but it also seemed like exactly the right way to describe things. And he was happy about that. A large party would have only bothered him and raised his anxiety.
It was difficult not to grin at this point. “There are a bunch of little booklets that I have filled with notes and equations and formulas. It’s all Greek to me. I don’t... I’ve been trying with this for years and I’m still just as lost!” The students learned things though. He’d had some of them say that he was their favorite teacher. He figured it was the confused looks on his face. “I mean, kids finish it and do well the next year. I’m pretending pretty well! You’d think I would have learned, but...”
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"I can stay up long enough to try and see if you can sleep, come on!" Finley grumbled in the background, and Gen smiled a little. They were doing okay. They set up a certain kind of life, they adjusted and they stayed strong together. She assumed there were bumps on the road, but she hoped it only made them stronger, and that Finley was there to help Benji through it all. He's always brought the best out of Benji and she couldn't even imagine how Benji would have been like if Finley couldn't went with him.
"Come on, you've always had difficult time getting used to new people," she couldn't help but counter, even though looking back now she wished she would have listened to him. She wished she would have been less blind, maybe all of this could have been avoided.
She dropped her head, running her fingers through her hair as Benji asked if she really only just talked to her or did something else, memories of Vivien and her entangled in her bed flashing in front of her eyes. Fuck, she hated so much that she's done that, that that was her first reaction. It probably only made things worse. maybe if she could have just used her brain and turned Vivien away, just sent a 911 text to Diego and they caught Vivien by surprise, Juliana wouldn't have been taken, they could have avoided everything that happened. Maybe Diego's face wouldn't have looked the way it did. So many what ifs that would keep running through her head and fill her up with guilt for endless nights, she was sure of it.
"Yeah, Benji, we only talked. I was in shock, I couldn't really do anything else." Well, at least she was good at lying and Benji couldn't see her face. She was sure if he could, he'd know she was lying, but through the phone, she could pull it off. "And I swear you guys are okay. It's not gonna be--- nothing's gonna happen to you, okay? She's in custody along with one of her friends and everyone's at the FBI and the US Marshall's are working on this. You're going to be fine. You're going to be fine." They had to be, she could not survive losing Benji too.
She shook her head at his question and it took her a few moments to realize that he couldn't see. "I don't know. I'm not sure if even the FBI knows so far. Or maybe they do, they're just not telling me. But I'm guessing it depends on what kind of information they can get out of Vivien and her friend and what they can do in the next couple of days. But honestly, I have no idea how all of this works."
At the question of whether or not she had people, she rubbed her face, remembering Phoenix and Juliana. She had people, and then she screwed it up. Really, she could only blame herself for that. She looked over towards the bathroom door. She did have one person left, though. She was still baffled by it, especially after everything that happened recently, but somehow Diego was still on her side and there for her, and she couldn't help the small, soft smile that crept up her lips. "Yeah, I-- it's a bit complicated right now, but I have somebody. Not like that, it's not like that," she quickly added before Benji misunderstood, "but I have somebody I can count on. And I had people. I'm nowhere near where I was now, though, so who knows what's going to happen there."
She let out a chuckle when Benji told her how the proposal happened. "And all of this while I had a ring hidden in our bedroom! You know that, Gen, you helped pick it out, and he still beat me to it!" Finley fake complained and it almost felt like she was in the room with them in that moment, just telling stories and reminiscing about the past. "Can you believe it?"
"At least you guys didn't have to worry about things like rings or tradition or planning," Gen chuckled, shaking her head. "And either way, big or small wedding and celebration, I'm just really glad you guys are okay. That you guys are happy and safe and together. You guys deserved to have your happily ever after, even if it didn't exactly go as you guys planned."
"At least they helped you out with those booklets." Seemed toe FBI gave both of them the starting help. They gave her some money so she could start renting the Grub, and they helped Benji out to make sure he didn't fail during his very first class. They did help at least a little bit, even if mostly they probably ignored Benji and only cared about Gen long enough so that she would one day testify in their case. "And I'm not surprised you didn't pick up anything, but I'm proud of you for pulling it all off."
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Diego took a long shower, even if the hot water did taper out towards the end. But it still felt good, and Diego found himself wishing he could hit a pool and just swim until his limbs gave out. Typically when he had this much exhausted energy, he'd either swim until his brain shut off, off fuck someone nameless for the same goal. But both were out of the question. And the latter not just because he didn't want nameless sex anymore - not with that woman out there, who he loved so much - but also because his junk was still a little too tender for anything strenuous like that. Dammit Vivien Salazar.
Eventually he couldn't dawdle any longer, so he rinsed off and washed his mouth as well, before putting on some clean clothes as well. Drugstore underwear and cheesy-logo t-shirt and jogging shorts. He looked a mess, but he'd also looked worse. Toweling his hair, Diego emerged, knowing Gen was still on the phone. He gave her a half-wave, motioning for her to talk as long as she wanted. He knew Abigail was keeping track of everything, and Abigail got a little testy whenever Diego questioned her. They didn't really get along, even though Diego did highly respect Abigail's work ethic.
He sat at the front of the bed, opening the food bag up and pulling out his own burger and fries. They were still a little warm, which was nice. He settled back against the bedhead, flicking through his phone and chewing his dinner like a cow chewed cud.
Eventually though, he couldn't help listening to what Gen was saying. His gaze was drawn to her like a magnet, watching the defeated slope of her back, her stubborn shoulders still straight. As if she was trying to still hold it all together, for the sake of a brother who couldn't even see her. Her dark golden hair fell over her face, in that way where Diego wanted to tuck it behind her ear. He wanted her to feel good, just for a moment. Hopefully, she did. God, he hoped.
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Benji rolled his eyes. “You’ll never be able to stay awake that long,” he said before laughing a little bit. “No, but we’re good, Genny. Like... I’ll stress, but I’m not alone.” If he could have her as well, things would have been so much better. There had to be a loss though. He wasn’t going to get everything which made him happy. Honestly, he was lucky his life was at least the way which it was.
“Yeah, I know. I’m just saying. I was right about this one!” It had to happen some time. He hate that he was this time. It was easier when people would tell him that none of his anxieties were going to come true. It certainly wasn’t any help when the time it was had ended up with their family torn apart.
That was a relief. He knew how much his sister had loved Vivien. “I don’t know if I would be able to do that if it was me,” Benji admitted. Gen was stronger than he was, that much was clear. He thought he’d have done anything to get Finley back if he lost him. Letting Vivien go must have been hellish for her. “I’m proud of you,” he said softly then left it at that.
“You can’t promise that though. You can’t. Try - trying to promise that is going to won’t make things any easier for either of us.” He didn’t want to say it meant things would hurt more for both of them if something happened to the other with that reassurance.
He nodded. Things wouldn’t go instantly back to normal on the very off chance that they might. There was a lot of work which needed to be done on the side of FBI and the associated agents. “I want to see you,” he said softly. It didn’t seem like it was ever going to happen. He would give anything to hug his sister again though. “It’s not really fair. I don’t... if I don’t see mom and dad, I don’t mind, but you telling me that you’re fine doesn’t make me feel much better.”
It hadn’t struck him that it may have been like that until his sister was denying it. If she could see his face, she would have known how little he believed that. “Are you going to tell me the truth or are we going to have to pretend that I believe you? I’m hoping for the former.” Though he was counting on the latter to be true. There was a reason she was lying about this. It was difficult for him to figure out what it was.
There was a story there. He knew there was one. He attempted to think of the reasons which would cause her to lose people who cared about her. It wasn’t as if people grew tired of Gen. That made it clear there was, yet again, more than she wanted to let on.
Smiling at Finley, Benji shook his head. “Do you know how many times he’s complained about that? A ridiculous amount of times! I don’t think he’s going to let it go!” He didn’t mind if Finley did though. It made Benji feel special and everyone deserved to feel a little special sometimes. She was correct about that though. They hadn’t had to worry. “We got rings! I was okay skipping parties and ceremonies, but I had to have a ring.” It might be a simple band, but he wasn’t going to trade it for anything. He sighed. “Yeah. It would’ve been nice if you were there though. I didn’t think I would ever get to even tell you.”
It was true. He wouldn’t be able to do this without the help. “At least you can cook though. Diners.... you’ve always liked diners.” When they were younger, the three of them - including Olivia, of course - would go off to diners whenever they had the chance to. Was that gone now? Shit. Change the subject, Benji! He cleared his throat. “I’m not a good teacher, but I could be worse. That’s what I tell myself.”
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Hearing Benji say that he was proud of her because Gen didn't do anything other than talk to Vivien felt like a punch to the gut, but she didn't want to go back and explain herself, not now, not after this. Even if he said he might have not been able to do that, she felt like he would have been disappointed and angry at him if she actually told the truth and really, she didn't want the rest of their conversation to be about her mistake. So she just buried her face into her palm and tried desperately to not make a sound that suggested anything was up or that she was feeling extremely guilty on that moment.
She instead focused on what she said next. "Okay, that's fair, I can't promise you that, but I can promise you that I would try my best. How's that sound, hmm? I will try to do my best to make sure I don't do anything to get you or me in any kind of trouble or hurt. And in return, you do the same?" She doubted he could ever actually do anything to get himself in trouble, though. It was her who kept finding trouble wherever she went.
I want to see you. Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of that. "Yeah, I want to see you too." She wasn't sure if it could ever be possible, but she also wasn't sure if talking to Benji could ever be possible, so maybe with time it could happen as well. "I am not sure how all of this is gonna go, what's going to happen, but maybe if everything goes okay, I could go visit you guys? Or you could come to me wherever I will end up being? If the people who decide what happens to us deem it safe to do it, of course."
God, he saw right through her. They haven't spoken in years and they were who even knows how many hundred miles apart, and yet he still knew her, he still saw right through her and it warmed her heart to know that it wasn't something that could be lost. Sometimes she wondered if it was possible, if you could unknow a person if you don't see them long enough, but it felt like Benji just proved that theory wrong in a way.
If she would have been fully alone and knew Benji was alone as well, she would have probably talked to Benji about Diego, too, but with Diego coming out of the bathroom this very moment (how did he have such impeccable timing?) and knowing that the other agent hearing things could get Diego in trouble, she opted to say, "can we go with the second one?" And because she didn't want him to feel like she was trying to keep something from him, she quickly added, "it's a bit complicated and a really long story, so I don't wanna get into it over the phone. Maybe next time?"
She knew offering this was wishful thinking, more of a hope than a sure thing, but she also felt like treating their conversation as a once in a lifetime opportunity would have only turned this entire conversation into something even sadder and more tragic than it was, and neither of them needed that for a moment.
Diego got his foot and sat down next to her against the headboard and Gen scooted over a little bit to give him more space, crossing her legs under herself as she shifted position and got herself more comfortable. She shot a warm, happy smile towards him while she was listening to Benji talk about their wedding, and then she couldn't help but reach over and steal a few fries from him and pop it into her mouth after mouthing an apology and a thank to him.
"Yeah, I wish I could have been there, but I'm just glad to hear about it too. Nobody told me whether Finley was with you or not, so it's just nice to hear and know that you haven't been alone all this time. And-- well, I don't know, maybe one day you can show me some pictures. Or just show me those rings yourself. Maybe." It felt so surreal to sound so optimistic or hopeful, but if a call could happen, why couldn't anything else, right?
She chuckled slightly. "Yeah, sure, I can cook, but I got a cook who was 10 times better than I was, people loved his food. Well, they still love it, that just sounded like he died when really he didn't, nothing like that happened, just bad word choices. And now i'm rambling, sorry. Anyway, do you guys have any pets? Did you ever get a dog?" They spent their entire childhood wanting a dog but being told they can't by their parents, and she knew Finley and Benji were thinking about adopting one before everything turned to shit. It would have felt natural for her that after a while they went back to that route and found a sweet puppy for themselves.
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Their best was the only thing they could offer one another. It was fucked up. Benji hated this situation. He had settled into a sort of compliance. He hadn’t liked it, but he’d grown used to it. Now, there was this. He was actually able to communicate with one of the people who mattered most to him in the world. He had Finley, of course, and he loved him with his whole heart. But it wasn’t the same. His family was gone and... then the one person that he still held in that regard was on the other end of the line for however short of a time period this would be. He wished there was a way to prolong it.
“Of course I’m not going to get either of us in trouble. Well, the three of us.” He shot Finley a gentle smile. “If you thought that I was cautious before, you should see me now.” It wasn’t always a good thing. It was probably helpful for Abigail though. He figured working with himself and Finely was an easy job.
Benji bit his lower lip. For a moment, he considered breaking the rules. He could find a way to contact her outside of this... there had to be a way. Perhaps he could convince Abigail to - no. She was more staunch on the rules than he was. Before meeting her, he hadn’t thought it possible. “I don’t know. I just - I know that you’re safe. All I want to do is see you. I just have to see you. Hug you.” That way, he could make sure that she was really there. It might not make sense to a lot of people, but it made sense to him.
Complicated? Most things with Gen were complicated. She was a bit odd in a lot of ways, but so was he. They had that in common. He wanted to point out that there was no guarantee for there to be a next time. He almost did. Instead, he simply sighed. “Fine, but next time, I’m going to lead with that. I’m just gonna ask you to promise that you didn’t fuck someone you shouldn’t have again. I had build my life up twice. I’m not going it a third.” The subject could be dropped there. Benji held up his hand. “But it’s done. It’s over. There’s no going back.”
He smiled, knowing that she wanted him to be truly happy more than anyone else would. “Yeah. It would have been much better if I threw up on your shoes rather than a member of the FBI, but...” he trailed off and laughed. “Maybe. And you know what I’m going to want you to do if we’re ever able to see each other again -“ It sounded a lot more realistic when she said it, “- which is that you make a grilled cheese because nobody can master it the same way you do.” He paused. “I also want to see you smile.” For as much as Genevieve wanted him to be happy, he wanted it for on the very same level.
“Your diner, what’d it called. Tell me all about it. Don’t spare any of the details.” There was no way he was going to hear everything about the past few years. If they focused on one thing, however, they would never make any progress. “Any - anything that’s good. Tell me about the good things.”
The mention of a dog had Benji looking over to the one curled up in his husband’s lap. “Her name is Missy. I don’t know what her breed is... other than small. What about you? Are you a parent?” He paused. “To a small furry animal because if there’s a human child in your life and you didn’t choose to lead with that, I might have to kill you.”
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Diego tried not to listen too hard in on the conversation. It was technically his right as Gen's handler, but he didn't want to make it seem like he was eavesdropping, after he told Gen he'd give her privacy. When she scooted next to him though, he figured she didn't mind him picking up the conversation here and there if it happened. It struck him, suddenly, how...domestic this was. Both of them relaxed back on the same bed, having dinner, Gen chatting on the phone with her brother while he checked his own phone. It would've been almost normal, if it wasn't for the fact that they were hiding out in a motel to protect Gen from possible attacks, and her brother was in a secret location, hidden for the same reason.
Diego took out Gen's food for her, and laid it out on the paper bag. She could take as many fries from her own pack as she wanted, but she wasn't getting any more of his.
When she asked about her brother's pets, it reminded Diego again - damn. That hedgehog. He knew Gen asked Flo to look after it but he really should drive into town tomorrow and pick the thing up, as well as his remaining belongings and some of Gen's - Darcy's things. First he'd talk to Al to inquire about the fate of the diner and if there was anything to be done about it.
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"Good. All three of us should be good then." Gen didn't doubt that Benji was sticking to all the rules and keeping everything in order. In that regard, Diego might have been luckier if he was assigned to her brother instead of her. He wouldn't have had to deal with things like her running off to LA without a word or warning. A lot less headache and a guns pointing at his face. Would have been a real treat.
"If it's ever going to be possible, we'll make it work however we can and then I'm going to hug the shit out of you. You'll be complaining and asking me to let you go," she joked. "But until then, Finley, would you give him a hug for me?" She could hear some rustling of clothes and moving on the other side of the phone and she smiled to herself for a moment. "Done." "Thanks."
Promise that you didn't fuck someone you shouldn't have. Right in the middle of it. It was like Benji just knew what went down for a few months between Diego and her. And then it hit her. Again. She did it again, she fell in love with somebody she shouldn't have. Did she have a type? Did she somehow draw in people that she shouldn't have and get attached? Granted, she couldn't have possibly known that Vivien would bring such horrors into her and her family's life, but she did in fact know Diego and her probably shouldn't have done what they did, she just didn't care, because no matter what Diego says about it being wrong, it wasn't. It couldn't have. Not after everything that happened and everything she felt.
(It was interesting how out of the two of these relationship, one of them looked so perfect, so right in the beginning only for the holes to show up and reveal just how wrong it was, while in the beginning it felt like there was nothing but holes between Diego and her that they needed to patch up and work through, but in the end it turned out to be so good and so important. For her at least. And even if it was only important for her, she still cherrished every memory, every moment.)
Through all of this she was watching Diego move back over to the food bag and take out her dinner too, probably glad to see her trying to actually eat without nudging after she stole some of his fries and wanting to make sure it wouldn't disappear or she wouldn't end up eating his food instead (she mouthed a quick thank you to him once he settled back onto the bed), and really, maybe according to the rules of his job, what they did was wrong, but she didn't regret any of it. She just regretted that if any of it got out, she could get him in trouble with it.
She was definitely not going to say any of that to Benji, though, not with Diego hearing it and definitely not with Benji and Finley's agent hearing it. She just replied in a cheerful tone, "I promise, I promise. You won't have to rebuild your life again, I didn't do anything stupid." Partial truths, they could work wonders.
She let out a small chuckle. "I would normally not approve of you throwing up on my shoes, but yeah, I would have preferred that scenario over anything else. And of course I'll make you all the grilled cheese you want, but only if you won't leave my side cause I won't be willing to stay too far from you." Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but even if it was just a small dream that wouldn't happen, it was nice to be able to talk about it with Benji.
"Hey, I smile!" Gen objected and purposefully did not look at Diego because she didn't want to see him look at her skeptically. Sunnymead and the townsfolk had that effect. When she first arrived, she didn't think she would ever smile again, but they worked their magic and changed that. They helped her a lot, without even realizing it. "Not all the time, sure, but there are moments. You can't see it, but I am smiling right now. Your voice kind of has that effect." In that moment it felt like if she could only keep talking to him, she could smile forever.
"No diner names, or any other location names that could be followed up," Gen heard the woman interject sternly when Benji asked about the Grub and she cleared her tone. "Okay, okay, no names, I promise. Good things - I got it on a lease, I fixed it up when I got there originally and somehow it became the town's staple. I heard so many rumors and gossips there, you have no idea. Got some really good people working for me. I also live above it. Well, lived. I keep forgetting to use the past term."
She was glad at least one of them could finally get the dog they've always wanted. "I'm sure she's the cutest of the cutest. And no, I don't have a kid, don't worry, I'm not holding out on you," she couldn't help but laugh at his suggestion of having a kid, even though a part of her heart was bleeding over it, knowing that for such a long time that hasn't been an option for her. "But I do have a little animal, though she's not so furry. It's a hedgehog and her name is Vex."
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As far as Benji was concerned, he wasn’t going to complain about her hugging him when (if) they saw each other again. He’d done so in the past, but this was different. There hasn’t been the constant contact which had been present in the past. Even then, he hadn’t done more than dramatically sigh and make a bigger deal of it than it truly was. He’d be far too busy taking her in were they to get that opportunity.
Leaning into Finley, Benji shook his head. “Oh, come on. I’m not going to complain. I know I... kind of complain a lot, but I’m going to probably cry if I ever get to see you again...” He wasn’t counting on it, but Abigail wasn’t objecting so it might be possible.
There was a pause before she answered and Benji could feel his anxiety rising. He knew his sister well. This seemed to mean that she was hiding something. Interrogation wasn’t the move though. They had limited to communicate. If all of Benji’s time was spent doing that, he would kick himself.
He hummed nonetheless, an even tone which made it perfectly clear that he didn’t believe her. There was no pushing though. He didn’t want to stress her. “Alright. Consider the subject dropped. No more discussions of your sex life in front of all of these people.” Which didn’t mean it was truly dropped, simply (hopefully) pushed off to a later date.
“Trust me. Do you honestly think that I’m going to go anywhere but where you are? No. I’d hole up wherever we were and here every detail about your life while I gave you every detail of mine.”
Benji laughed. “Remember how Mom used to joke that me and Liv were the only ones who could get you to smile?” It was an exaggeration, sure, but it was fun to joke about... even if the mention of their sister made him feel like there was a hold in his heart which would never be filled. “I’m smiling like an idiot. I’d say Finley could confirm, but he’d argue that I wasn’t an idiot like he always does.”
Furrowing his brows, Benji stared at Abigail. He had never argued with her in the past. It wasn’t in him. However, this? This was grinding on his last nerve. He couldn’t hear most of the things about his sister’s life and he hadn’t asked to. He just wanted to know the name, so that he could picture in his mind. There were so many gaps which he wanted filled. It was a small one, but it seemed there was a problem with that.
“Yeah, Abigail. I know. It’s the one diner in the whole country which has that name. Hearing the name of a diner, would put us both in imminent danger! I forgot that I didn’t have any control over my life!”
The outburst was uncharacteristic of him, but he was realizing now how over this he was. He missed his sister. Was the conversation allowed any depth? He sighed. Perhaps he should apologize to Abigail. He didn’t.
He nodded. “So was it like an HGTV show? The ones we used to get wine drunk and say we were going to do? You did that!” Benji frowned. Though he didn’t have to rebuild his life again, Gen did and he hated the concept of it. She’d had a good life then... it got fucked up. This time, he couldn’t even rationalize it in his brain as something that she had done. It was all one big mess. He could hardly understand that. “Are you at least allowed to tell me about the gossip?” A hedgehog? “Like the tiny porcupines?” he asked.
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Gen let out a small chuckle. "Alright, we'll be attached at the hip and just talk through every little detail we missed. I like the sound of that."
Her smile softened at the mention of Liv and her heart ached a bit at the thought that she couldn't be in this call, that they could never see her again. "Yeah, and Liv made those badges for it after and you guys wore it everywhere for like a week." They would have to talk about Olivia at some point. They probably should be talking about her and what happened now, if she was being honest, but this felt too good, too nice to go down that path. Maybe if they could ever meet and get drunk together. That was the kind of conversation that would require a lot of alcohol.
"He really isn't an idiot, but he is smiling like one," came the confirmation from Finley and Gen smiled. They were both smiling and happy to enjoy a simple phone call, even just a couple of hours ago it didn't feel like it could be possible, so it was great to know that there could still be happy moments amidst all of this. Well, thank to Diego. All of this could only happen because of Diego and she wasn't sure how she could ever thank him for this. She'd need to figure something out.
Gen winced at the sound of Benji snapping at the handler, but even more so when he said he didn't have any control over his life. It wasn't life him, to snap at people like this, but it also hit her that it has been years since she's seen or talked to Benji and she couldn't possibly know what kind of changes he went through. And being forced into a situation like this... it would have made sense, if Benji snapped at people more. But even if this was just a one time thing coming out of frustration of how the two of them couldn't even have a simple conversation without somebody else butting in and telling them what they can and can't talk about... she did this to him. She caused him to lose complete control over his life and it was sheer luck and persistence that they allowed Finley to be there with him instead of dropping him off somewhere else and leaving her brother completely alone.
Fuck, she hated how much pain she caused him, how much she ruined his life.
She rubbed her face, feeling the tiredness and the guilt creep in, even though she was trying to not think about it. At least until they had to hang up, she wanted to enjoy just talking to Benji without feeling horrible, she could do that later.
Unfortunately, it came earlier, way too early than how she would have liked, because when Benji brought up the gossips, she could hear some movement from the other side of the phone and then the handler's voice came, "Alright, if you want to hear about gossip, I think it's time you two wrap it up. The call already went longer than you two were originally allowed, so say your goodbyes. We don't want anyone accidentally tapping into these phones and track either of you."
"Fuck," she muttered and she could feel a panic rising inside of her because she didn't want to hang up, she wanted to keep talking to Benji and with not knowing when or if she could ever talk to him again or see him again, this felt a little bit like losing him all over again. But she also didn't want to push the boundaries because this has already been more than she could ever imagine and now she knew that he was okay. She knew he was good and happy and safe and this was not enough and more than enough at the same time.
"Fuck, okay, Benji, I love you. I can't believe I didn't start with this, but I love you so much and I'm really sorry for all of this and I am so happy you're doing okay and just-- fuck, I miss you and I love you. I don't know what else I could say."
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It was likely exactly what Benji should have expected given his reaction earlier, but it didn't make hearing that their conversation was over now. He clenched his jaw and was refusing to make eye contact with Abigail. He felt like he was going to cry and he would be damned if he did it in front of her. It wasn't her fault, not really, but he needed someone to blame she could take the heat of that.
He felt like he was going to vomit. Running his fingers through his hair, he let out a shaky breath. "I love you too. More than fucking..." he paused, to try and get as much control over his voice as possible. Though, Benji knew he hardly had any time to do. "More than anything. I miss you and I don't know if it's better or worse now," he had to admit. "But I wouldn't trade this for anything. I love you, Gen. This is so fucking unfair."
With that, he got up and left the room, knowing that Abigail would hang up the phone and Finley would see her out. He didn't want to deal with a second more of this.
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Gen could hear Benji's voice shaking and fuck, she wished she could be there to comfort him and hug him and make sure he was okay, but then if she was there, they wouldn't be in this predicament either. And it hurt, having to say goodbye because she wanted to keep talking, but at the same time it felt like the entire conversation filled her up with a new kind of energy she didn't think she could have. So she listened to Benji and nodded and she could feel the tears brimming in her eyes, but at the same time she was smiling.
And then the call was over and she just sat there for a few moments, staring at the now dark phone in her hand and didn't have the faintest clue what to do or say after this. The conversation kept replaying in her mind and she hoped Finley was already there for Benji and helping him and more than anything she hoped this wasn't the last time. Vivien was arrested, they had to be slowly getting out of this, right? There had to be an end to this somehow.
Then again, maybe in two days she would be told that she would need to get relocated once again and she would become Jenna Sills or some other random person next. She wished she would have even the slightest bit of control over her life and she wouldn't be in the dark constantly.
She took a deep breath and shook herself out of these thoughts, even if just for a few moments, and finally turned to Diego with a small smile and handed the phone back to him. "Thank you, seriously. This... I don't think thank you si really expressive enough to emphasize how much this meant to me, but nothing else really comes to my mind, so just thank you."
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One thing Diego didn't take into consideration was the possibility that allowing Gen a phone call meant that it could end up making her even more unhappy, after the initial elation of speaking with her brother. He watched her carefully, gauging her quiet devastation that she was so good at repressing. She'd been practicing it for four years now, of course it was like second nature to her. He said nothing until she spoke first, and then he just listened.
Granted, she didn't talk about herself, but then that was so like Gen, wasn't it. Both Gen and Darcy - they both put people before themselves, thought about other people first. Not in any sort of self-sacrificial way, but in a way that just meant her heart was full of others. She was used to thinking about other people, being empathetic, taking care of them. It fulfilled her to help, as much as it helped others. Even her thank yous to him were kind and considerate. When she wasn't yelling at him for some indignity or the other, she could actually be quite generous with her kindness.
As if he didn't know that already.
A smile tugged his lips, and Diego moved the food between them to reach and arm around her shoulders. He tugged her to lean against him, and he pressed his mouth against her damp hair on the crown of her head. She felt fragile and birdlike right now, so small and broken.
"So...he's got a - a - a husband? Is that what they call 'em? Husband and...what, husband?" He asked, awkward, ignorant, and curious. "I didn't really realize that the both of you were like, y'know. I didn't realize more than one sibling could be, uh..." But even as he said it, he was pretty sure it was a stupid thing to say.
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It was a new kind of torture to have Diego pull Gen close against him, knowing it was just to comfort her after the emotional rollercoaster that was the last 24 hours and especially after the call just ended. She knew she was a mess and she knew that Diego could see it all over her face. She didn't even try to hide things from him anymore, there didn't seem to be any point. He seemed to have learned how to read her like an open book. So even if the memories of the times they've spent in each other's arms flashed back in front of her eyes, she knew this was different. She also knew she should pull back and not let herself enjoy it, it wouldn't end well for her emotionally, but she also couldn't just entangle herself from Diego somehow, so she just closed her eyes and try to forget about everything around them.
It didn't last too long, however, because then Diego started talking awkwardly, and Gen's eyes grew wider and wider at what he was saying. She pulled away and fully turned towards him, frowning in confusion and surprise. "Jesus Christ, Diego, you are so painfully straight," she couldn't help saying, her face still full of disbelief. He didn't say any of it with malice, he didn't intend to hurt anyone, and it wasn't about him being against it either, he just asked something he didn't know about because he never needed a reason to learn and get to know more, and it showed in his question. A lot.
"I don't even know where to start." She picked up her burger - it was cold at this point, but she didn't really care, she was just glad she could eat something. She took a bite to have at least something in her stomach and then started munching on her fries while she started talking. "Yes, they are husband and husband, unless they prefer something else, I'm not sure, I didn't ask them. All of the marriage and proposal happened after... well, sort of during the beginning of the relocation process, so I wasn't there for any of it. Not that any of that part really matters in the whole family question that you just..." She let out a sigh, she was rambling and she didn't even know where to even begin, it was such a surprising thing in that moment. Then again, maybe that was his goal with this, to get her out of the stupor and get her to think about something else, even if that something else was explaining to Diego that more than one person in the family could be part of the LGBTQ+ community.
"Okay, so there aren't any genes or rules or laws of the universe that say that only one person in the family can be non-straight. It just... happens. Sort of like how sometimes a family has three boys and no girls, and then another family has one girl and a boy and the mix could go on and on. It depends on the person and not the family."
"Also, you can say the word gay, it's not an insult. You can also say queer, to me at least, it generally stands on shaky legs, some people love it and embrace it, some people take it as an insult, so don't throw that word around before making sure the person you're talking to is okay with it. But it's okay with me."
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Diego held Gen and what was more important, Gen didn't resist him. It seemed like all the animosity and frustration that had built up between them over the last few weeks had dissipated completely. It made sense in a way - after dealing with the insanity that was Vivien Salazar showing up out of nowhere and kidnapping poor Juliana, a spat over something that was no longer relevant seemed...well. No longer relevant.
And then there was the matter of Gen sleeping with Vivien. Given that Diego was a king of making poor sexual choices throughout his entire adult life, he'd be a hypocrite to feel angry about that. Plus, while he and Darcy had been cooling their heels, he'd slept with Rita. Maybe in some weird, twisted way, Darcy sleeping with Vivien was just tit for tat. Granted, sleeping with Vivien was a disastrous choice, but not something that Diego had to deal with. That was something Gen herself would have to deal with - emotionally and mentally.
So it felt calmer, watching Gen eat the cold burger, and then sit up to give him one of her patented annoyed and slightly pitying looks. He blinked back at her, stealing some of her fries now, and eating them. "What? You say 'straight' like it's an insult," he said, using the most stereotypical hurt-feelings comeback that straight people used, when queer people called them straight.
But he did listen attentively when Gen explained, with the patience of a saint, about how it all worked. There was very little he knew about Benjamin Soto's casefile, other than the basics. It was all in the name of protecting, and keeping the Sotos safe. So he didn't realize Benjamin swung that way, and he really didn't realize that the 'husband' had been put under witness relocation as well. Truth was, Diego had completely forgotten that gay marriage was even legal, and he had to remind himself at this point. He could only imagine how loud his nieces would be berating him right now for being so clueless. They'd be saying similar things to him as Darcy, only with more 'oh my god, Tio, you're so dumb' thrown in for good measure.
"Hunh," he grunted, but squinted in amusement when Gen gave him permission to use such verboten (in his mind) words. "I dunno, honey. In Texas, 'queer' is still used like an insult. But...I guess that's mostly just among us straight people, huh." He didn't sound angry or anything, just wry. As if he was making some sort of point (he wasn't; or rather, his point wasn't interesting). "I guess...well I guess it'd be like having three kids, and all of 'em are straight, huh? No one ever points out how weird that is, do they."
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Gen let out a long sigh and tilted her head at Diego as she gave him a look. This wasn't the first time she's heard this response, though given how the last couple of years have been going, she hasn't heard it in a while. "I don't say straight as an insult, Diego, I say it as a fact. Cause you are one. Which is showing a whole lot right now."
He listened to her, though. It was one thing she could never say about him is that he wouldn't listen. He was ignorant and he happily lived in his own heterosexual bubble because it was easy, but when the topic came up and she tried explaining something to him, he always listened. Back when she told him she was pansexual, and now too. He was trying to understand, he just didn't really go out of his way to do so when he didn't have to or it didn't come up.
"Yeah, well, straight people like using these words as insults way too often, if you ask me. So if it's an insult in your mind, then definitely don't use it, everyone will be able to tell you're using it as such. But at the same time you should just accept them and think of them as not insults. They are just the people's sexualities, nothing else."
"You said one of your nieces was on the spectrum, right?" she asked. She thought she remembered Diego mention it to her during their last similar conversation, but she wasn't sure if she remembered wrong. "Do you talk about these things with her?"
She ate some fries as she thought of Benji and Finley. They are what started this whole conversation. "I didn't know they got married, by the way. My brother and his boyfriend. Well, husband now. Finley - that's his husband's name -, asked me to help look for rings not too long before everything happened, but I wasn't sure if he got put in the witness protection, too, and if they got to stay together or not. But this was the best-case scenario. At least they were together and they could help each other through it."
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Diego grinned then and shrugged. "I gotta be me...which I suddenly get now. The ga- the people who aren't straight gotta be them too. My nieces would be so proud of me now." He seemed contented at Darcy's advice to not try and use the words she used so freely. From her, 'gay' and 'queer' sounded free-flowing, comfortable. Coming out of his mouth, he knew it would just sound unnatural, borderline insulting. He laughed lowly when she asked about his nieces.
"On the spectrum..." he said, once more a term that was very novel to him. Sex was a big part of his life, and the idea that there was a spectrum applied to it? His poor straight mind boggled at the concept. "Jesus christ, are you kidding me? I'm their Uncle, Gen. Kids don't want to talk to their uncles about that sort of shit. And frankly I don't want to hear about it." Before Gen got that tight disappointed look on her face, he raised his hand to add, "What I mean is, I stay clear out of their entire dating and love lives and all that...grown-up stuff, as much as I can. They might technically be adults now but they're still little girls to me. They got their own friends to talk like that." He huffed.
"The only time they bring it up is just to make me and their mother all huffy. For their own entertainment." He didn't seem particularly bothered about this, though. That was what nieces did - they poked fun of older family members for, well, being older. Curiously, he asked, "Do your folks know? About you, or your brother? Did you have to..." Diego searched for the term. "Come...out?"
He supposed there was no harm now in Gen knowing that the brother and his...fella were married, or whatever. Everything had to be so hush-hush for so long, it was good she got a few factoids to feed off of for the next few months of hell. And Diego realized then, how much it sucked that she missed the wedding. If there even was a wedding.
"That's true," he conceded, finishing up his food and then exhaling slowly. "C'mon, let's go have a smoke out on the balcony." He stood up, grabbing his pack of smokes from the desk. "Also I just realized there's only one bed. And I didn't ask if you'd be okay with that."
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The big grin plastered on Diego's face as it all seemed to click for him was cute, even if all of this was a ridiculous conversation that Gen did not think they would be having this night out of all of it. But he was trying and he seemed to be taking small steps towards the right direction, which was definitely a good start. Gen let out a small chuckle at his indignation that he would be talking about his nieces sex lives with them. "I didn't mean about their sex lives, Diego, obviously you wouldn't wanna hear about that, I meant..." But she shook her head with a small smile. "Nevermind." She meant more about what it meant not being straight, but this was probably best to just let it go.
"Yeah, they know," she nodded as she ate the last of her fries. "I didn't really have a typical coming out experience, though. Benji had it all figured out a lot faster and a lot younger, I needed more time figure all of it, all of me, out, and by the time I got there I also realized just how little my parents were present in our lives. And to be fair to them, they did what they thought were best for us, which was work their butts off and provide us with financial security, but it meant they weren't really around, so I didn't really feel like I was required to have that proper sit down where I told them I was pansexual. I didn't lie to them, I just didn't openly tell them. They figured it out when I brought Vivien home for introductions."
It was more like when she announced she was bringing her home, which was probably for the best because a huge fight broke out after it that came down to 'why did you lie to us for years and years about this?' as if they were entitled to something so personal. She didn't really care about their reactions, but she remembered that she was glad Vivien didn't walk into that fight when they went over for a family dinner and she did question back then if not openly telling her parents before that was a mistake or not. And then she didn't see her parents for months after that dinner like it usually went, and she decided she probably did the right thing.
"Oh, god, yes, I'm in," Gen said as she pushed herself up from the bed at the thought of a smoke. "I'm guessing asking for some whiskey along with it would be impossible, right?" she joked, but that would have probably helped a lot with her mind in that moment, even if she knew unless Diego snuck in something under his coat, they wouldn't be drinking tonight.
And then he pointed out that there was only one bed for the two of them, which really should have registered for her sooner - he was spending his time here with her, he was taking a shower in this room's bathroom, of course this was both of their rooms and they would have to share it, what was she even thinking? But somehow she was way too occupied to notice and process any of this information, and she stopped for a moment as she heard those words because really?
Really?
It already felt like some kind of torture, the way he was being so nice and he was trying to comfort her through all of this, and now sleeping in the same bed together? The last time they were in a bed together, they fell asleep in each other's arms after spending a really long time ravishing each other and chasing the same pleasures, and now... fuck. She was fucked.
And she couldn't show any of this because he would offer to just sleep on the damn floor and then she couldn't ever convince him to come sleep on the bed cause he was stubborn like that.
So after the momentary freezing she quickly pulled herself together. "We're adults, right? And it's a big enough bed, anyway, there's enough room for both of us." They headed outside and Gen leaned against the railing and while Diego lit both of their cigarettes, she took the sight in - which was mostly the motel's weirdly lit pool and the buildings around them -, and then pushed herself up onto the railing. They were on the first floor and the railing was wide enough, she was good.
"Unless you would feel uncomfortable, in which case you are taking the bed and I'm taking the floor. And before you object, your face has a whole different color now and I'm pretty sure your dick suffered even more so, while the worst thing that happened to me is that I got a little scared. You don't need back pain added to the list of shit that happened to your body."
She was quiet for a few moments, taking a couple of drags from the cigarette and listening to the sounds of the city around them before she asked, "Do you ever think about what's the whole point of all of this? Everyone suffers through so much bullshit in their lives just for a few fleeting moments of happiness, and then all of it becomes pointless because you become nothing in the end anyway."
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Diego was about to ask how Gen's parents took it, when she brought a woman home for them to meet. But although it seemed like Gen was able to bring up the mention of the memory with not too much issues, this was definitely not a good time to make Gen think even more about her past with Vivien Salazar. It could too easily spiral into Gen feeling guilty and stupid for being duped by Vivien for all that time, blaming herself for everything that happened to her family.
So instead, he just nodded in understanding. "Parents can be tricky," he said vaguely. A moment of silence and then he added, "I suppose we have that in common, sort of. I'm closer to my sister than I am to my mother. Or father, when he was alive." It wasn't always the case, but Diego always considered his childhood to be complicated but completely normal at the same time. He said he loved his family - he was Latino, of course he loved his family - but it hadn't been difficult to move into law enforcement and travel for work.
Getting up (and minutely thrilled that Gen was going to join him for a smoke), Diego chuckled as Gen asked about whiskey. "I don't think the motel stocks a minibar, no. We'll have to make do with sobriety." In the dimness of the room, he didn't notice Gen's apprehension about the one bed, or he didn't read into it too deeply. Perhaps because he also felt someone antsy about it, if only because they'd been fighting before Vivien showed up, and technically had called their whole...sleeping-together thing off.
Hadn't they? Everything had changed, when Vivien showed up. The reasons for Diego's anger no longer mattered. Did the reasons still matter to Gen? He wasn't sure how long she could hold on to old fights, but he supposed he'd know by tonight.
Fortunately it seemed like Gen chose to take the high road, and Diego was more than fine with that. He handed her one lit cigarette and leaned against the corridor railing,. "Okay. That sounds fine," he said, when Gen laid it out so reasonably. He puffed, wondering if he should mention assurances that he wouldn't touch her or try to make any moves on her while they were in bed - god, he felt so confused about where they stood on their...thing together. But it was hardly the most important problem that either he or Gen had right now - but then Gen kept talking. Or rather, in her trademark way, she started overthinking it.
He choked on his cigarette when she casually mentioned his dick, and Diego coughed indignantly. "My bit and tackle are in fine working order, thank you very much, madam," he said huffily, his manhood clearly feeling threatened (albeit in a comical way). "It just ain't gonna be directed at you, is all." He winced when he said that last bit. He'd meant it to mean he wasn't going to try and get frisky, put Gen in a position where she felt she had to reject intimacy. Which would be understandable and her right. But it just came out weird and petty.
He leaned his back against the railing to face her. "What I mean is, I'm fine. I can sleep on the floor if that's what you prefer. No way in hell I'm letting you sleep on any fucking floor, and don't argue with me about women doing what men can do or whatever. This is simply because - because maybe I got beat up on the face...and other parts of me. But you got beat up inside, and in your head. And you know what doctors always say - internal injuries are worse than external ones."
Of course, Diego took that out of context, since he didn't mean Gen's internal organs, but rather her emotional and mental beatdown. "So that hurt head of yours deserves a nice...creaky, springy, misshapen bed more'n I do. No argument, Gen, I mean it."
Gen's questions turned philosophical then, and Diego welcomed the change of pace. He smoked slowly then. "This is a conversation best had over a bottle of whiskey," he said. "But since we don't have a whiskey, then...I think what you've gone through is extraordinary, Gen. As in, I don't think it's what most people have to deal with. Not to downplay other people's shit - I know you wouldn't like me doing that - but I'm just saying more people's ups and downs at least have context and they can reference the same shit around them to know how to deal with their own shit. You? What on god's green earth would ever prepare you for your girlfriend turning out to be a crime boss? That's not normal shit. That's one in a million. That's extraordinary."
He stubbed his cigarette out. "Guess you're just special that way, honey."
_______________________
Gen watched Diego with careful consideration as he mentioned that parents could be difficult, and then mentioned his dad. She could only remember him mentioning him once before, and it was in not so positive light, and she wanted to ask about him, see if she could get Diego to talk about his family and his parents a little more, understand where he was coming from better, but then decided to go into a completely different route. "You don't really talk about them," she said. "Your parents, mainly, but your family in general either. Is that because this is a job and you don't want to let too much information slip out, or you just don't like talking about them in general?"
She was expecting Diego's reply about the whiskey, but she was still disappointed he wasn't hiding even just a little bit of alcohol somewhere hidden on him. If there was a night to get drunk and try to forget everything, it was this night for sure. "The motel should definitely think about it. The minibar is one of the easiest way to overcharge the customers, and I assume a lot of their customers would be delighted to splurge on the cheapest thing they could possibly find." It's probably for the better, though. She wouldn't need a headache the next morning - either the FBI would have more questions and dealing with them with a hangover would be a bitch, or some other official business that she'd need to do that she would be better for sober.
She chuckled at his indignation and him calling her madam, but her smile didn't last long. It just ain't gonna be directed at you, is all. He needed to make sure she knew just because they were sleeping in the same bed potentially, nothing changed between them. And in general, she respected him for it, not wanting to betray Rita like that. But on the other hand, the reminder was like a cold bucket of water being suddenly poured all over her body. For a few moments she could just forget about it, but now she was painfully brought back down to reality and she didn't know how to react. Except for the annoyed, quiet muttering that she couldn't help letting slip out from under her nose, "Don't worry, I wasn't planning on jumping you or anything," and then took a long, hard drag of the cigarette.
Thankfully he kept talking, though, and so she focused on that instead of the stupid way her heart panged and how for the first time she wondered if maybe Diego not sticking around and not being there for her through all of this would be better. She would miss him, Jesus fuck she would miss him, but at least she wouldn't be reminded constantly of what she fucked up and could never have.
She tilted her head, giving Diego a look. "You know that's about internal bleeding and my organs, not my mental state, right?" Her voice was just a touch bit sharp and annoyed. She didn't mean to carry over the annoyance that she felt after his comment, but she couldn't help it, it just came out. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to get her shit together. "And when have I ever not argued with you? Really, Diego, you are not sleeping on the floor, I'm not going to let that happen. I will kick you up onto the damn bed if I have to," she said, the last of her words more teasing than anything else.
"So you won't let me sleep on the floor, I won't let you sleep on the floor, we're back to being adults and sleeping in the same bed, huh?" It was going to be a torture and she felt even more grateful for the possibility of a sleeping pill. She could just take it and push through the time while it hits and then she wouldn't spend the entire night not only reliving everything that happened in the past 24 hours, but also over-analyzing Diego sleeping a few inches from her.
"See? I told you we would need whiskey," she joked but she listened to Diego quietly while smoking, purposefully ignoring him calling her honey again. She was wondering how long she could take it. She already just wanted to snap at him and tell him to stop calling her that because it was messing with her head. "I don't wanna be special like this. But I guess nobody would. It's funny, though. I used to want to be special. And I don't mean that I wanted to be a princess when I was four, even though I did, but I-- I wanted to be that one in a million. I wanted to prove to everyone around me that I could be that one person who just rises and rises and rises to the top and becomes outstanding." She let out a bitter chuckle. "I guess I became outstanding in a very different meaning of the word. And now all I wanna be is normal, and that's the one thing that isn't in the cards."
She shook her head. "Fuck, my head is full of... all of this bullshit. I can't-- I just can't. Tell me something fun. Something good that made you happy or made you laugh or something. Anything that isn't related to... all of this. Please."
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"A little of both, I suppose," Diego replied with a half-shrug. He'd never really had friends, ergo he never really talked about his family. Even when it came to falling in love - with Helena - she'd known him growing up, and when they met as adults, they were in a situation far too dire to reminisce about their pasts. "You're the first person who's asked so many dang questions." He said it gruffly, but not meanly. He gave a low laugh when she tried to lighten the mood, talk about profit for the motel via minibars.
"Maybe the rooms usually do have minibars. But this motel's used a lot for federal business, so I'll bet you they remove the minibar whenever they know a fed's taking up the room. Too many of us are alcoholics and your tax money shouldn't go to pay for our drinking problems." He was teasing lightly of course, just going off of Gen's own riffing.
Because what she said next (completely due to his own faux pas) made everything feel tense again. "That's not what I --oh forget it. We should just - right. Yea. Let's just be adults and sleep in one bed. Jesus, it's no big deal." Cigarette break over, Diego headed back inside, to brush his teeth one more time.
He started to brush, then came out of the bathroom to talk to her more. Granted he was talking around his toothbrush, but he didn't seem to notice. "You always argue with me, but I keep hoping in vain that this ONE time you'll actually listen to me. That's what crazy people do right? Repeat the same thing and hope for different results? You drive me crazy." In more ways than one, but regardless, Diego pointed at the side of the bed that was closer to the exit door. "That's my side." he told her, before going back into the bathroom to spit and rinse.
She was right - no one who didn't ask for that life, should be considered the type of special that Gen currently was. But Diego returned, wiping his face with a face towel as he listened to Gen talking. Revealing something about herself that to Diego sounded so profound and deep. He was struck by how vulnerable it seemed. And she was sharing this with him, out of the blue.
"It's not bullshit," Diego was quick to respond. "It's not bullshit at all. It's...it's fine. I can't say I understand, but at the same time...I dunno. It's fine, Gen, you're..." He wanted to reach out to her and hold her then, but something made him resist. Everything just felt too prickly then; and an embrace might be taken the wrong way. So instead he maneuvered past her, to get to his side of the bed.
"Me? You want me to tell you something fun? You do know who you're talking to right?" Diego joked, sitting on the edge of the bed, but turning to look at her. "Mr NoFun Guy here. But listen - just, go brush your teeth and...whatever else girls do in the bathroom before bed. I'll find us some nice movie or fun tv-show to watch before we pass out, hm? That's as much fun as I can do. Oh - and I got a bottle of painkillers, they're on the sink. Feel free to help yourself. Might help you get to sleep."
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Gen quickly finished up the last of the cigarette and then headed back inside after Diego, settling down onto the bed while she waited for Diego to finish and suddenly feeling a whole new kind of awkward and unsure of what to do with herself. She agreed with what she said, they were adults and the bed was big, they could spend the entire night never touching, but it still felt... well, it felt like too much. Maybe because of her newfound realization (it felt kind of insane that she barely realized her feelings for Diego less than 24 hours ago, the last 24 hours felt like a week, maybe even a whole month instead of just a single day), maybe because so many things happened she just felt emotionally drained and this was just the cherry on top, maybe because the last time they were in the same bed, things between them were a whole different situation, but it just felt a lot and she didn't know how to really handle it.
Thankfully Diego was here, though, acting like it was the most normal thing on the world and making it seem like they did this every single night. (Which was a whole kind of weird in her mind, but at least it was something she could roll with.)
When Diego came out of the bathroom, toothbrush in his mouth while he was talking around it, she couldn't help a half snort, half chuckle that escaped her. It was cute. And amusing. And more domestic than she'd like to think, so she pushed that part to the side. "Isn't there like a rule that you can't be crazy if you are aware that you're crazy?" she mused aloud, teasing. "Or that might be just Catch 22. Not sure."
She nodded to the declaration of the side and when he came out and babbled a bit, trying to comfort her. He was trying, she could tell, and she appreciated it, but he wasn't really able to say anything helpful either, not that she expected him, and she gave him a small, appreciative smile before heading into the bathroom herself while he was talking about just how unfun he was and the plan for the rest of the night.
She quickly brushed her teeth and washed her face again and took a painkiller, hoping it would actually go to sleep. By the time she got back to the room, Diego found something on the tv and she climbed into bed next to him, making sure to keep the distance. The moment her head hit the pillow, it was like her body finally caught up to everything that happened and she felt nothing but sheer exhaustion. And even though her brain started running like it always did, maybe the painkillers were working, maybe everything that happened was too much even for her, but she fell asleep relatively quickly compared to how long it usually took her.
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Hay Fever and Other Romantic Gestures
Pairing: Bill Williamson/Kieran Duffy
Rating: General Audiences
Tags: Crushes, Bill being soft on the DL, Jack is also there hanging out
Word count: 3k
Description:
Bill gives in and lets Jack put flowers in his hair, but he doesn’t count on someone watching them.
There was a lot of thinking to be done sober.
It wasn’t usually a good thing, and thus lead to a lot of negative thoughts, but today was an exception. Bill could sit in the warm afternoon sun with his hat down over his eyes, drifting in and out of sleep without a care in the world. It was rare, but when it came it was sweeter than honey and more valuable than gold.
The grass was green and sweet smelling. The smell of wildflowers and fresh pine seemed to float on the breeze. Bill couldn’t remember the last time he felt so comfortable, mentally and physically. For the time being, he could forget his worries and let them melt into the spring ground.
Bill was laid up a good ways outside of camp, in a little clearing with tall grass and swaying trees on all sides. The only sound to be heard was the stream babbling not far off.
He thought about everything and nothing all at the same time. Mostly, Bill drank in the warm sun, the sweet smells, and the soft sounds. It was all gentle enough that Bill could have fallen asleep.
But footsteps approaching kept him from doing so. Light, clumsy ones.
Bill didn’t need to wonder who was coming around, because once they got within a few feet, Jack’s squeaky voice asked, “You sleepin’, Bill?”
Bill grunted. “Tryin’ to.”
A thoughtful silence came from Jack. Bill heard him hum under his breath.
“Grandpa’s lookin’ for ya. He sent me to find ya.” Jack stated. His voice and steps got closer until he was directly beside Bill. “Called you a lot of mean names.”
Bill pushed his hat up a bit. “Which one?”
“Said you was a lazy and dumb son of a—”
“Which grandpa?” Bill corrected sharply.
“Oh.” Jack sat down in the grass. Bill heard it rustle under him. “Grandpa Hosea.”
Bill pushed his hat back down. He grumbled nonsense.
A breeze whistled through the canopy of leaves overhead; they shook and rustled a melody that filled the clearing. Jack plucked a fistful of grass from beside him and then scattered it in the wind.
Bill sighed into his hat.
“Did he say what he wanted?”
Jack shook his head. “No... Jus’ that he wanted to find ya, and make sure you wasn’t rottin’ somewhere.”
“Great.” Bill grumbled. “Don’t tell ‘em I’m here. First time I’ve got some peace an’ fuckin’ quiet...”
“I won’t tell,” Jack whispered. He ripped up more grass and sprinkled it in his lap. “Promise.”
Bill made another throaty noise. Jack thought he sounded like an animal, which made him smile.
They both sat there in silence for a moment. Bill was thinking mostly about falling asleep, and Jack was plucking grass and generally disturbing the wildlife. It was a fine fit.
Bill didn’t mind Jack; he was a good kid. It would have shocked a lot of people to find out that Bill didn’t really mind kids this way or that. He thought they were cute, if nothing else.
His sister had a couple kids. Bill used to make it a point to go see them every once and a while for their birthdays, but after coming back from the war, things got too complicated for that. The last time he saw his nieces, they were Jack’s age, or around there; now they must have been ten or twelve.
Thinking of it in terms of years made an uncomfortable feeling swell in Bill’s guts. He pushed it aside.
Jack shuffled beside him and got to his feet. He trudged away without a word, leaving Bill to the ambient sounds of the clearing.
Spring was a weird time of year. People always raved about its beauty and how it meant that winter was finally over, but as far as Bill was concerned, it wasn’t even that great; the first half of every spring was spent dead and dreary while the snow melted, and the rivers flooded. It wasn’t until May that the trees grew leaves and the wildflowers sprouted. Wouldn’t be such a bad thing, if it all just came quicker. And if Bill didn’t need to trudge through mud puddles and sinkholes for three months while everyone else raved about how beautiful it was out, maybe he wouldn’t mind.
But he did. People called him bitter for it, but damn the spring and everything else it entailed.
Over the sound of the bubbling brook came an equally airy giggle. Footsteps crunched and came up beside Bill. Bill raised his brow to himself behind his beat-up hat. Otherwise, he stayed still.
Jack giggled again, though it sounded like he was trying to smother the sound. Bill felt something tickle his face.
“What’re you doin’, Jack?” Bill asked. His voice was hard, though it missed any real malice.
“Nothin’.” Jack replied innocently.
“Better be nothin’. You won’t like me mad.”
Jack burst into wild giggles. He fell back as Bill suddenly sat up and pulled the hat away from his eyes.
Jack had a fistful of daisies and golden rod, and a huge grin on his flushed, chubby cheeks. He kept laughing, and it took a second for Bill to realize why.
Bill reached up and touched his beard; he felt soft petals and stems sticking out. Upon glancing down, he saw a few flowers weaved into his bushy facial hair. He pulled one out and examined it, then turned an exaggerated scowl to Jack.
“This funny to you?” He demanded.
The laughter stopped, and Jack faltered for a second. His expression shifted from amusement towards something more scared and uncertain.
Bill reached out and ruffled Jack’s hair. He then stuck the daisy behind Jack’s ear.
“‘Cause I think it is,” Bill finished. He had a crooked, uncharacteristic smile as he tilted his head back. “Gimme a few more. Make me smell nice.”
Jack’s lips spread with a grin again. Nodding happily, he hopped to his feet and returned to weaving flowers into Bill’s beard. Bill closed his eyes and let his mind wander.
Bill didn’t mind being silly sometimes, just as long as it stayed between them. He figured that even if Jack did go telling others, no one would believe him, anyway.
Big ol’ mean Bill putting flowers in his hair?
Never. Not a chance in Hell.
As the stem of a daisy ticked his chin, Bill cracked open his eye. Jack looked set and serious, as if the task at hand was the most precise and technical one he’d ever had to do.
Bill thought it was cute.
“You really like flowers, huh?” Bill asked. “You’re always pickin’ ‘em an’ whatnot.”
“Uh-huh! I think they’re pretty,” Jack said enthusiastically. “Aunt Tilly even showed me how to make a daisy chain.”
“Ya don’t say? Daisies are my favourite flower. You figure you could make me one?”
Jack’s eyes lit up. He bounced on his feet, grinning wide.
“Yeah, course!” Jack shoved his handful of flowers towards Bill. “Hold these, I’ll go get the daisies! There’s big ol’ patch of ‘em by the water!”
“Alright, go ahead,” Bill said as he took the flowers delicately. “Don’t get too close to the stream.”
“I won’t— you stay here, now! I won’t be one second!”
Bill watched Jack bound off, excitedly scrambling through the tall grass. Two seconds, and he disappeared through the lining of trees like a faun.
The silence of the woods surrounded Bill once more. Smiling gently to himself, Bill lifted Jack’s flowers to his nose. He closed his eyes as he breathed deep and enjoyed the sweet scent. Maybe spring wasn’t as bad as he thought.
And then someone sneezed not far off.
Bill’s eyes snapped open, and he jerked his head towards the sound. His eyes roved over the lining of trees surrounding the clearing, though at first, he didn’t see anything.
Bill squinted and shifted up to his feet. The hard edge returned to his voice. His cheeks went red with rage and embarrassment at potentially being caught.
“Who’s out there?”
Naturally, no one replied. Bill still waited, looking comical holding a bouquet of wildflowers with a beard full of daisies and shedding golden rod. He glared around angrily.
Another loud sneeze, and Bill located the onlooker.
Kieran was half-hidden behind a birch tree, hunched over and clutching his mouth. His eyes were wide with shock.
Neither of them moved. For a long moment, they stared at each other, equally surprised and confused. When nothing that immediately endangered his health happened, Kieran dropped his hand and smiled weakly at Bill.
That made Bill come to his senses. Cheeks flushing even hotter, Bill threw the flowers to the ground and bellowed, “Goddamn O’Driscoll!”
The smile dropped off Kieran’s face. Instead, it replaced itself with genuine terror. Kieran turned and scattered, his heart pounding. Bill thundered behind him, hollering out, “Don’t you fuckin’ run, you chicken shit!”
Kieran figured if he made it to camp again he would be in the clear, or at least that he could climb a tree and hide up there, worst come to worst. However, he only made it about ten feet when his foot caught on an upturned root. Kieran pitched forward with a yelp; he fell on his hands and knees into a blanket of pine needles and moss. Kieran flipped onto his back, and Bill was upon him.
You’d think it would be hard to be afraid of a man with daisies weaved into his beard, but Bill had a burning hate in his eyes that made Kieran want to cower. Kieran winced, his arms flinging up to cover his face as Bill pounced in his lap.
At the force and Bill’s weight, Kieran wheezed. Bill grabbed a fistful of Kieran’s shirt and reeled his other fist back, ready to strike.
“You little shit,” Bill hissed. “How much did you see?”
Kieran held his hands up defensively, as if he had the strength to fend off Bill even if he wanted to.
“I don’t know! I mean, I—I didn’t see nothin’!” Kieran hesitated. He anxiously eyed Bill’s poised fist. “Nothin’ worth tellin’ anybody about, anyhow.”
“You’re damn right you didn’t see nothin’. Because if anybody finds out about this, I’ll take your fuckin’ head off your shoulders.”
For emphasis, Bill psyched Kieran out by shoving his fist forward. Kieran flinched, his face contorted with fear.
“How long was you watchin’, anyhow?” Bill demanded.
“Just a few moments! I followed Jack out here t—to make sure he was stayin’ out of trouble.”
“Or was you tryin’ to get dirt on me?”
“What? No!” Kieran’s insides felt squirmy and odd. Bill was practically on top of him, and inches from his face. His own freckled cheeks were a deep, ruddy red. “Why would I— what would I even do with dirt on ya? N—nobody at camp trusts my word, anyhow.”
That kind of threw Bill for a loop. He faltered for a second, then screwed his expression up again. He jerked his fist towards Kieran’s face, making the latter cry out and flinch.
“Don’t matter! I ain’t gonna give you no ideas.”
“Okay! Okay. I—I just think it’s cute, is all, you know?” Kieran sputtered all at once. He turned his head away from Bill’s face and screwed his eyes shut. He tried not to think of how romantic this could have been if Bill wasn’t threatening to knock his block off. “You with Jack, I mean! You don’t look the fatherly type. It surprised me and I—I didn’t mean to spy on ya, I swear. I just—just thought it was cute.”
Once more, Bill faltered. Almost immediately, he blushed, and instead of confronting his mixed feelings towards that, he gave Kieran a good shake. Bill dropped his face close to Kieran’s.
“I ain’t fatherly, so don’t be sayin’ shit like that!” He hissed.
Kieran made a strangled noise as his head bounced off the mossy ground. Something like the word “okay” tumbled out of his mouth.
From behind them, Bill heard a twig snap. A quiet voice sang nonsense.
Bill looked back over his shoulder and watched as the tall grass by the brook shook and swayed as a little body moved through it.
“Shit,” Bill whispered.
He turned his evil glare back to Kieran. Kieran’s face was contorted in a strange way, but before Bill could ask or comment, Kieran jerked his head to the side and sneezed violently twice.
“Hay fever, sir,” Kieran managed. “I got... Hay fever. And the, uh, the pollen from your beard—”
Bill scoffed. He threw Kieran down to ground and then clambered to his feet.
“Get out of here.” When Kieran didn’t immediately move, Bill gave him a kick in the shin. “I said git! Go!”
Kieran nodded wordlessly. He scrambled around, grabbed his hat, and jumped to his feet. With a last, fleeting look and a small smile, Kieran turned and hurried his way back towards camp.
Bill adjusted his hat as he watched Kieran go. Once he was certain that Kieran was out of earshot, he turned around and wiped his cheeks down. They were still fiery red, and the encounter had left his heart fluttering in his chest like a rampant butterfly. He didn’t want to think about it, and he didn’t want to think of why he felt that way, even though he knew damn well.
As Bill lumbered back into the clearing, Jack emerged from the tall grass. He had fistfuls of daisies and other flowers Bill didn’t know the names of. Roots and dirt still hung from a few of the stems.
When Jack toddled over, his smile disappeared.
“You look mad.”
“I ain’t.” Bill replied sharply. He relaxed his shoulders afterwards and sat down in the grass. “...Come on. Show me how you make them... Daisy chains.”
Jack’s eyes lit up. His smile returned, and happily he knelt in front of Bill. He laid out all the flowers, oblivious to how distracted and weird Bill was acting.
“Okay! So, the first thing you do...”
—30—
Bill’s body ached. After riding all day, scouting the area and trying to hunt, he didn’t want to think, and he didn’t want to talk to nobody— all he wanted to do was lay down and sleep until noon the next day.
When he hitched his horse at the post, Kieran glanced up at him. His mouth moved as if he were going to say something, but a mean glare from Bill convinced him to shut it again. Didn’t help any that Kieran was about the last person Bill wanted to talk to, anyhow.
Their... Encounter in the woods had been three days ago now, and Bill hadn’t heard a word of it from anyone else, either to his face or behind his back. So, thus far, the O’Driscoll boy seemed to be keeping good to his word.
The camp seemed quieter today than usual, as Bill shambled his way towards his makeshift tent. That suited him just fine, though; less people wandering and talking meant that he could get some peace and quiet. Upon entering, Bill was immediately overcome with the desire to rest and sleep, but of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.
In the low light, he noted something laid out on the bedroll.
A bouquet of daisies tied together at the stems with a bit of twine rope. Bill’s heavy brows furrowed. He knelt and picked them up to look closer.
“The O’Driscoll left ‘em there for you,” a small voice said from behind him.
Bill jumped a little with a surprised noise and jerked around.
Jack stood there, innocent as could be. Loosely, he clutched a toy horse.
“What did you say?”
“I says, the O’Driscoll left the flowers for ya.” For emphasis, Jack pointed at the flowers in Bill’s hand. “I helped him pick ‘em! He asked me where to find ‘em, so I showed him.”
Bill’s cheeks flushed. He looked again at the flowers in his hand and then shoved them out of sight partially behind his back.
“Great,” he grumbled. With his other hand, he shooed Jack away. “Leave me ‘lone, now. I wanna get some rest.”
“Are ya gonna thank him?” Jack asked. “Mama says you’re s’pposed to use manners. Pleases an’ thank yous, even if he is an O’Driscoll...”
“You worry about your own business before mine. Now git!”
With one hand on Jack’s shoulder, Bill steered the boy out. Afterwards, he closed the curtains of his tent which acted like a half-assed excuse for a door and settled in the half-dark. A little light came in from under the curtains, barely enough for Bill to see what he was doing. He brought the flowers back to his front.
Kieran had left these. Put effort into fancying them up, too.
Bill’s cheeks were red, and his heart raced.
After a moment of deep contemplation, he lifted the flowers to his nose and breathed. They smelled sweet and fresh, like how spring was supposed to smell. No mud or rain, or dirt or death.
Just sweet.
Maybe a little bit like puppy love.
#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#bill williamson#kieran duffy#bieran#jack marston#bill williamson/kieran duffy#bill/kieran#My fic
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Time Warp
Chapter 02
Hi guys! How are you on the other side of the screen?
First of all, I'm so sorry for not being able to upload the chapter last week. I fumbled with this semester's final exams and failed.
Second, my sincere thanks to Carly Giuliani, whoknows33, Calzonafan123, ChrisM92, NDenner, brady25, Tifenn: tifustiti, perpetualblyss and @loudwithlaughter for all your reviews.
Last but not least, my big thanks to my dear friend and beta reader @tiggermay
Arizona was on a high. After Jackson Prescott’s case she’s been on a string of good results, with no children dying on her hands in the last couple of weeks.
Arizona skated all over the hospital (where the nurses allowed - she had tried to skate at NICU only to be tackled by one of them). She and Kai were dancing every day in her apartment. She was even running in the park!
Her life was practically perfect. All that was missing was Nick arriving in Seattle (he promised that he was just tying up his business there, and… you know, having to walk a trail to the nearest town where he would rent a car to get to the airport).
And Calliope.
So, Arizona was basically floating in a pink cloud when Dr. Dixon asked her to consult on Stacy Pollock.
Arizona sighed before walking over to Bailey (who had been telling anyone and everyone who wanted to listen, -or didn’t -, that Arizona Robbins was Seattle Grace's best acquisition in a long time, and no one should touch a child without her permission…. Her new rule to her residents.), to confirm the diagnosis of cor pulmonale.
As soon as Dr. Dixon left, Bailey grabbed her lab coat. “Aren't you going to scrub in this surgery? You... You’re the peds surgeon!”
Arizona smiled in surprise. "Bailey, this is a cardiac case. You and Dr. Dixon can handle it."
Bailey shook her head. “She's just a child. And I…” she trailed off.
Arizona gently put a hand on her friend's shoulder. “Children are tough. And maybe you’ll open this girl's chest and fix something simple. Or maybe she’ll need a transplant and a backpack with a portable pump that will deliver her medicine at the right times so she can have a childhood. Either way, you’ll give her the rest of her life. And I'm telling you that you’ll want to be there for this moment. Because Stacy? She needs you.”
***
Arizona returned to her office. She had been trying to write an article about Jackson Prescott's treatment, but how could she explain that she knew what to do, before ever touching the boy, well… In a way that wouldn’t guarantee her, a one-way trip to the psyche ward, anyway?
She was turning the pages of his exams when she heard knocking on the door. She didn't usually close her office door during the day, so it was open, and Paul Anderson was there looking anxious.
Arizona widened her eyes for a second before she remembered that Wallace was alive. Then she gave her best and most charming smile and stood up. "Hey! How can I help you?"
Paul took a deep breath and walked into the office, closing the door behind him. "Dr. Robbins, correct?"
Arizona nodded and reached out to greet him. The grip was tight, though Paul's hands were shaking. “I’m Paul Anderson. My son, Wallace, is a patient here. Dr. Kenley was his doctor.”
They sat down, and Arizona quickly closed the folders in front of her. "I think I haven't met Wallace yet."
Paul shook his head. “He… He has short bowel syndrome. He had the last surgery with Kenley a few months ago. His eleventh bowel resection.” Paul took a deep breath, and Arizona noticed Kai rising from the couch to stand beside her. “My wife, Bethany, she attends a support group to parents in this situation. And she heard about Jackson Prescott's recovery. So, I want to transfer Wallace's care to you as well as discuss the best course of treatment.”
Arizona took a deep breath. "Do you have his latest exams?"
Paul nodded eagerly, and opened his briefcase, offering her a binder.
Arizona smiled reassuringly and put her hand over Paul's. “I'm going to study Wallace's case. And the possible alternatives we have. And then we can decide our next step, okay?”
Paul took a deep breath. “He's nine years old… And he's done more than twice as many surgeries than Bethany and I combined. They keep saying that he doesn't have much of a chance of living... But, he's my son, Dr. Robbins. He's my boy.” He said brokenly while staring at Arizona. He lifted a hand to rub at his tired eyes and she couldn’t help but feel her heart twist at the anguish and fatigue that she could see in him. She remembered how emotionally draining, worrying for Sofia had been… And God… Sofia. She missed her baby so much.
Arizona nodded sympathetically. "I... Let's make a plan." She said, clearing her throat.
Paul nodded. They exchanged contacts and soon the man said goodbye and left the office. Arizona closed the door and crouched on the floor covering her face.
"I need to save Wallace, Kai."
The angel took an apple. "Do your best. But remember that some things are immutable.”
Arizona nodded, and when she saw Kai eating her apple, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at him. "How many of these have you eaten?"
Kai laughed hoarsely. "Four? I like the taste. Theoretically, I don't need to eat.” He smiled sympathetically at Arizona. "I think it's cute that you prepare your snacks like you're doing it to Sofia. If you weren't having lunch at the cafeteria, I bet you'd make your lunches in the same way."
Arizona shrugged. "Force of habit."
Kai nodded. "Want some help thinking of something for the Anderson boy? I can help you remember their exams from the other timeline."
Arizona nodded. "Let's get to work then, Kai"
***
A few hours later, Arizona was preparing a file for the Anderson family. She wanted Wallace to have a bowel transplant. Her thoughts were interrupted by frantic knocking on the door.
"Come in," she called.
Miranda Bailey came into her office out of breath, but with a smile on her face. “You're brilliant!” she stated. “I was in surgery with Stacy and Dixon said she would need a transplant. And, and I had to leave. Because I couldn't handle the idea of this little girl slipping through my fingers and I went to visit my son at the daycare. When I saw the backpacks, and I remembered what you said. So, I ran back, and I told the parents what we could do... I would have come before, but Dr. Dixon... Well, she had a moment. But we can put the portable pump on Stacy, and she can have a childhood!”
Arizona's eyes widened. "Dr. Bailey, you talked to Dr. Dixon before talking to the parents, correct?"
Bailey's smile slowly died. “Well… She was breaking the news to her parents! They needed to know!”
Arizona sighed. “And she's chief surgeon on this case. And she deserves our respect. So, I'll be happy to assist on this surgery, but you need to apologize to her.”
Bailey grunted softly but nodded. "But you’re going to scrub in on the surgery, right?"
Arizona laughed softly and nodded. “Great save, Bailey. I’m proud of you."
Bailey's chest filled with pride and she passed the exams to Arizona as they walked to the OR.
***
Arizona smiled encouragingly at Bailey once the surgeon had started. Kai was watching over Dixon's shoulder, a certain fascination in his angelic expressions.
"I'm sorry for my outburst." Bailey started breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I should've spoken to you first."
Dixon nodded, her focus completely on the procedure. “It was inappropriate, but I've come to expect it from pediatric surgeons. Always breaking protocol.” She sighed and shook her head.
Bailey looked surprised at Dixon. “I'm not a pediatric surgeon. I've landed a few peds cases recently, but I'm getting back to general surgery the first chance I get.”
Arizona tilted her head. Bailey would be a great pediatric surgeon. However, Webber had chosen her to follow his footsteps. And she had already tried to have this fight and lost.
“You touch the child whenever you speak with her.” Dixon continued “You explain conditions to the child, not just the parents. You react to the patient as if it was your own child. You break protocol, which is inappropriate. Except in pediatric surgery, where protocols are constantly evolving. You are not a general surgeon. You're a pediatric surgeon.”
Arizona smiled at Bailey. Dixon was right. Bailey would be excellent at peds.
***
Arizona was heading for the locker room so she could change. Some nurses had invited her for a drink after work and she was happy to accept. When she saw Bailey smiling outside Stacy Pollock's room, she stopped beside her to watch the girl showing her backpack full of ornaments to her parents.
"Oh my God," she exclaimed. "Did you use a bedazzler?"
Bailey lifted the machine, a smile on her face. “Circa 1986. As seen on TV.”
Arizona laughed in surprise. “Dixon’s right, you know. You do belong in peds surgery. Although, I think Ri... The chief. The chief has already chosen you to take his place.”
Bailey shook her head. “My own baby almost died last year. The doctors in this hospital, my friends, all worked to save his life. And I stood outside the room feeling so useless, so powerless and helpless. Like I was losing everything in the world and couldn’t do a single damn thing to stop it. And when he didn’t die, I knew I didn't want to be anywhere near that feeling again, so I think that makes me pretty unsuitable for pediatric surgery.”
Arizona looked away for a minute. She knew the feeling Bailey was narrating. She had felt it on her skin when her baby was born four months too soon after that terrible car accident. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.
“I'd say that makes you uniquely qualified. And if you have an interest and Richard Webber allows it, I'd love to have a chance to rob you into pediatric surgery.” she said smiling at Bailey before walking away.
***
Arizona was sitting at the bar laughing at what some nurse was saying. She had had her fair share of affairs in Seattle before she time travelled, and now no one understood why she was suddenly celibate.
She was talking to a girl from Pathology when her eyes landed on Calliope. She looked so sad. The weight of the world on her shoulders and still the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.
Arizona saw Little Grey exchange a few words with her before she got up and went to the bathroom.
Kai poked her shoulder. "Go after her, Robbins!" He murmured in her ear.
Arizona smiled and excused herself as she went to the bathroom. Butterflies on her stomach, her hands sweating... God, the effect Calliope had on her, even after all this time...
She opened the bathroom door and couldn’t help but cast an appreciative glance across Calliope's shape, leaning over the sink, touching up her makeup.
“Hey”
"Hey" Calliope answered without turning to her, almost like an automatic answer.
"Ortho, right?"
“Yeah, right. Hi.”
“I'm Arizona Robbins. Peds surgery” (your future wife, mother of your daughter, the love of your life). “I've seen you at the hospital” she took a deep, nervous breath. "Are you ok?"
Callie ruffled her hair, clearly upset. "You know... I'm fine."
And she turned around. And Arizona almost lost her breath at seeing her eyes so closely. She had almost forgotten how expressive and captivating those eyes were. Callie has always been so open... Before all the pain she caused. Pain, she could now, fix.
“Fine. People talk. Where we work. They talk. A lot.” Arizona started anxiously, her speech stilted and awkward, (God what is wrong with her?). "So, for the sake of being honest, I think I should tell you that I know things about you" (because I’m from the future and we were married. Because I asked about you). "Because people talk.”
Callie bowed her head, the smile on her face faded for a second. "Oh... You mean... Terrific." She said muttered tiredly, huffing a sarcastic, breathy laugh.
Callie looked down and Arizona stepped a little closer. “It is, actually. The talk.” Callie leaned against the sink. “People really like you over there. They respect you and they're concerned and interested. They really like you. Some of them really like you.”
Kai shook his head. "Where are you going with this?", he said not expecting an answer.
Arizona took a deep breath. "You just… You look upset. And I thought that you should know that the talk is good. And when you're not upset, when you're over being upset, there will be people lining up for you.”
Calliope laughed and it was one of the most wonderful sounds Arizona had heard. "You want to give me some names?" She asked wryly.
Arizona smiled coyly and approached Callie. She would never understand how Callie could doubt how attractive she was. How magnetic she could be. She leans in and slowed down a bit just an inch before Callie’s lips, not wanting to spook her but also not willing to let a chance by, and when she didn’t move back, leaned in kissed her gently.
Fireworks. Arizona thought. And those lips...
She pulled away slowly. "I think you'll know" She smiled at Callie mischievously before leaving the bathroom.
Kai was laughing alongside her as she paid for hers and Calliope's tabs before leaving the bar to return to her apartment.
“Jesus, that conversation was kind of painful to watch”. Kai said, wincing theatrically “You couldn’t think of anything else to say to her? God! Talking about other people talking, we really need to work on your conversational skills.” Kai sighed dramatically and shaking his head back and forth his wild black curls flopping around, when suddenly he lifted his head to exclaim: “But, hey the kiss! I knew you had it in you!”
Arizona laughed as she threw herself on her bed, her fingers touching her lips gently. She had almost forgotten Calliope's innocent glances. Her charming insecurity. And the lips... Oh those lips! “Reliving this moment is worth any price for coming back here, Kai” she whispered.
Kai's canines flashed in the light for a second before Arizona heard his hoarse laugh fill the apartment.
That night she dreamed of her wedding day.
***
Arizona knew Calliope was following her around the hospital and asking about her, working up the courage to ask her out. And each time she could see a shadow of her getting close, even for a second, she needed to stop and take a deep breath.
Kai seemed to be having fun like never had before, watching this cat and mouse game.
She had just helped the nurses set up a scavenger hunt for the children (they heard about the interns’ scavenger hunt and they wanted to do one too) when Paul and Bethany knocked on her office door.
“Mr. Anderson, Mrs. Anderson! Please come in!” she greeted them excitedly.
Bethany smiled. "Call me Bethany, Doctor Robbins."
"If so, please call me Arizona."
She picked up two folders she had prepared for them, a thing Nicole Herman had taught her for when parents needed to make a medical decision. She took a deep breath before she started. “Wallace's case is quite severe. And I disagree with the treatment made by Dr. Kenley. I think repeating the same surgery more than ten times won’t yield new results. After studying and contacting some colleagues, my official recommendation is that Wallace should’ve a bowel transplant.”
Paul closed his eyes, releasing a heavy breath and Bethany began to cry silently. Arizona gently pushed the folders toward them. “However, no decision needs to be made today. For now, Wallace is stable and maybe he’ll stay in this state. But… In case, we need to interfere… When we discuss transplants, in addition to the risks of surgery, we’re talking about a lifetime of periodic hospital visits and medicines to keep his immune system in check. I have prepared this document for you to help you understand what it might mean in the long run for Wallace and you both. So, you can read, and I’ll be happy to answer your questions. Of course, if you want a second opinion as well, fell free to take it to a second doctor.”
Paul took the folder with shaking hands, tears keeping him from reading. "But would he live?"
Arizona nodded. "I believe this is the best chance for us to extend Wallace's life."
Bethany looked at Arizona for a moment. "Do you have children, Arizona?"
She opened her mouth for a moment almost saying yes, she had. She had a beautiful daughter. But no. She didn't have her daughter. Yet. Arizona smiled. "Not yet."
Bethany nodded. "A transplant means he would have a childhood... A normal life."
“He would need take medicine and need to see a doctor more than usual, yes. But I firmly believe this is Wallace's best chance.”
Before Paul could speak, she smiled. “You don't have to decide anything right now. Take this information home. Read it calmly. Talk to his pediatrician. When you guys make the decision, Wallace will enter a list and then we'll have to wait. There is no rush.”
Paul took a deep breath. "If a transplant is what is needed to see my son grow up, Dr. Robbins, you can put him on that list."
***
Arizona took a deep breath handing the forms to the nurse. Wallace Anderson was officially on the transplant list. Now she just had to wait.
She walked to her office, slowly. She felt the beginnings of a migraine starting to build up just behind her eyes. Arizona closed the door slowly and sat down, resting her head in her hands. She grunted in frustration at Miranda Bailey's application for a fellowship in pediatric surgery. She had noticed the hesitation in Bailey to get away from Richard Webber.
She was exhausted from all these waiting games. It seemed that waiting was all she been doing lately. Wait for Calliope to talk to her. Wait for Sofia to be born. Wait for Richard Webber to stop Bailey from doing the fellowship. Wait for Karev be interested in peds. Wait for Nick’s and April’s arrival. It had all become one big waiting game. And she was shaking with anxiety to begin her life!
***
Arizona massaged her temples while reading Miranda Bailey's application. She needed to talk to Bailey. While it was true that she had a gift for pediatrics and would be a wonderful addition to Arizona’s team she refused to go into battle with Richard Webber, over a resident who still wasn’t all that sure about actually joining. Arizona took a deep breath and skated to the General Surgery Nurse Station. She smiled when she saw Bailey there.
“This is the first step in the beginning of a new life” she stated, pointing to the letters of recommendation in Bailey's hands. “How are we feeling? Positive? Confident?”
Bailey took a deep breath, as if trying to calm down. “I’m good. Great.”
Arizona nodded, crossing her arms. “Peds Surgery is super competitive.” Arizona said, gently trying to poke Bailey. She needed to know if this time the woman was serious about delving into this world. She wouldn’t put her neck on the line for someone unwilling to get on her ship.
Bailey nodded. For the first time in a long time, the great Miranda Bailey found herself wanting to impress an attendant. “That's why I'm armed with letters of recommendation to put the competition to shame. Shepherd says I'm talented and resourceful. Sloan finds it an honor to work with me.”
Before she could continue, Arizona interrupted. “What does the chief think?”
“I'm still working on that.” she promised.
Arizona sighed. “Look, I'm not going to get into a tug war with Richard Webber, Miranda. He's grooming you to take his place, so it's not just his recommendation that matters.”
Bailey looked at her in surprise. “Richard Webber has no decision-making power over my future. You calm down. I've got it under control.”
Arizona smiled. “Good. Because speaking on my behalf, we couldn't be more excited to have you.” Arizona saw Richard coming down the stairs and decided to just skate away. That was a fight she had no interest in getting into.
Bailey almost sighed in relief. She didn't want to go to war with the chief, but that didn't mean Arizona didn't want her as a student.
***
Arizona was analyzing some post-op exams when she felt Calliope approaching. She bit the inside of her cheek trying to stay calm.
Kai appeared beside her. “Here she comes. Try to be smoother than your last conversation.” He said teasingly, winking at Arizona playfully while nudging her shoulder with his.
"Hey," Calliope said, taking a deep breath, resting a hand on the counter.
Arizona turned to her, turning her back to Kai and his theatrics, a big smile on her face. “Calliope. I haven't seen you around!” (Alright, she had seen Calliope watching her through the hospital, but she didn't need to tell her that).
"Well," Callie continued, a big smile on her face. “I've been avoiding you”
Arizona made a false expression of surprise and crossed her arms.
"Is that your best surprise face, woman?!" Kai criticized, but with a fond and exasperated smile on his face. He had never seen Arizona smile so big.
"I know, it's so weird," Callie said, clearly embarrassed by the reddening of her cheeks. “You share a kiss with a woman you've never seen before…”
Arizona's smile faded a little as she saw Callie looking around, as if to make sure no one was listening. Damn, she had forgotten that right now, she was a newbie in the LGBT+ world.
“Honestly, this is a new adventure, one I'm ready to take, for the second time, and… Anyway. Do you want to go on a date with me?”
Arizona tilted her head slightly and smiled. "I would love to."
Callie's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh really?! I mean... This... This is great!”
Arizona giggled softly. She took a piece of paper from her pocket and quickly wrote down her number (old number, current number, Thank God for Kai by her side saying the right one). She steps closer to Callie and puts the paper in her pocket. "I'll wait for your text, Calliope," she murmured, her lips close to Callie's ear before she walked away.
Kai was doing a little dance next to Arizona. “You have a date! You have a date!” He hummed, his bare feet tapping the hospital floor in time with his silly little tune.
Arizona bit her lower lip and couldn’t help but follow Kai’s rhythm. God, she had a date!
***
Callie froze in shock, a huge smile on her face. She honestly thought Arizona would dismiss her. But she had said yes! Her eyes widened. Arizona had said yes. She was expecting a text. She had to plan their date! Callie had never planned a date. God, she had a date!
***
Callie hurried to Bailey's side. Everyone on the surgical staff had heard Bailey sing Arizona’ praises. Bailey was trying to become the woman’s student, for God's sake. She should know Arizona well enough to give some tips, right? Right.
Callie bit her fingernail, waiting for the chief to move away from Bailey. She'd really thought Arizona was going to say something like she wasn't lesbian enough for her, not in a million years did she think she might end up with a date. She tried to approach the other woman casually, leaning over the counter.
"So, Bailey..." she began. "You and Arizona Robbins are kind of friends, right?"
Bailey was way too focused on reading whatever paper she had on her hands to look at Callie. Callie took a deep breath. "Bailey? Bailey, I'm trying to get some help over here."
"The chief..." she started indignantly. "He wrote me a form letter of recommendation." She said showing the paper to Callie.
“What? That's insane. He's the chief, and you're Bailey.” Callie started reading. “Pleasant in the OR and gets along well with the nurses and rest of the staff. She's completed a serviceable amount of research. A fine addition to any program.”
Callie raises her eyebrows in surprise. This couldn’t be a letter about Miranda Bailey, especially not one coming from the chief. The man was practically grooming her to take his place! That’s the best he has to say?!
“Fine! He used the word fine! A blank page would mean more. I pulled off a twelve people domino surgery. I took out and put back six of a dying girl's organs! I'm Dr. Bailey. I'm better than fine!” Bailey marched off furiously.
Callie hurried after her. "Yes, you are! So much that you want to study with Arizona! And I just asked her out and- “
Bailey came to sudden halt and looked at Callie dumbfounded. "Stop. Did you just say that you asked Dr. Robbins out?”
Callie nodded. "And I need help."
Bailey took a deep breath. “You need to not screw it up, because that woman is the best pediatric surgeon I've ever seen. She is almost six weeks without losing a patient. The hospital needs her, and I need her. And now I need to talk to Richard Webber.”
Callie froze in place. Oh, beloved Jesus... What would she do?! She needed Mark. Mark would know what to do.
***
She only found Mark when he came after her… After punching Derek Shepherd. Callie took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Maybe this was not a good time to talk about her love life.
***
Arizona smiled as she saw Callie coming out of the elevator. "Calliope!" She called happily.
Callie turned to her with clearly anxious eyes. "All right! Look, I asked you out, but I don't know how to do that! I kind of just got into this whole girl story… Women. And maybe I'm inexperienced in that. But I am experienced in other things. I mean... I'm a senior resident. I'm a great surgeon. I'm a divorcee., I was in the Peace Corps. Botswana. It was what convinced me to go to med school. And, mostly recently, I've experienced the joy of cooking. And, and maybe now you are thinking you should’ve said no but-” she didn’t seem to be getting anywhere near a pause… Or a breath for that matter.
Arizona bit her lower lip. God, she had almost forgotten how Calliope could get lost into her own head and come to all these conclusions before anything even happened. It was so... Cute. Annoying when it was about decisions in their relationship… But cute. "Calliope?" She interrupted tentatively.
Callie paused for breath, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Kai was laughing. "That explains a lot."
Arizona smiled. “Do you want to go out to dinner with me Friday? I'd love to talk more about your experiences.”
Callie smiled with relief. “Yeah. That would be great."
Arizona smiled. "Well, you have my number."
Arizona’s pager started ringing. She pouted. "Damn it. I'd love to hear more, but I need to go.” She approached Callie, her lips almost touching her earlobe. "Bye, Calliope," she muttered breathily before running back to the NICU.
Kai's laugh rang in her ears, but a huge smile was on her face all night long.
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Excerpt | Thriving: Destiny, Chapter Fourteen
(warning: mildly mature content)
tag list: @starlitesymphony @pleasehelpmestopwriting @timefire25 @madammuffins @nemowritesstuff @timetravelingpigeon @purpleshadows1989
The impact caused a shockwave so powerful that it knocked them off their path by several feet, and Warren screwed his eyes shut to not have a full-blown panic attack. He couldn't feel anything when his eyes were closed; perhaps he'd stay that way while they drifted through space for the rest of eternity.
Another shockwave throbbed outward, catching them both off-guard, and Warren was wrenched from Thrive's grip, violently thrown into weightlessness. He bounced hard off the side of the Anchorage, tumbling up, flailing for something to keep him from flying away.
He spotted a ledge ahead and reached out for it, praying and straining to catch it in time.
Thrive zipped past again, hooked one arm around Warren's chest and gripped the ledge with the other. They settled onto the side of the ship, and Warren clung to Thrive’s tense frame, not daring to weaken his hold on pain of floating away again. He looked up at Thrive, who kept a determined eye on the airlock.
"We can make it," Thrive muttered.
"How many times are you gonna save my ass?" Warren gasped.
"As many times as I need to."
The two crashed ships forced out one last shockwave, and Thrive wasted no time hauling Warren as fast as physically possible to beat the tide to the airlock, which opened just as they reached the halfway point.
At the very last second, Thrive launched Warren out of his arms.
Warren rocketed alone, spinning uncontrollably into the open maw of the airlock. “No no no no, wait, wait…!”
Thrive caught up to him by the skin of his teeth; the final ripple barrelled through them seconds prior to the airlock slamming shut behind them. The pressure equalized and gravity returned as they were knocked away from one another, the entire vessel rocking to and fro along with the wave, fighting to stabilize.
"Glad to see you guys are okay," Sussa said through their suits. "Take it easy. We’re going to retrieve the L2 now."
They recalibrated their equilibriums, catching their breath as the ship righted itself again, and Thrive got to his feet. Warren ripped the oxygen mask off his face and out of the suit, pegging it onto the floor, and he leaned into the bulkhead. Another headache tore through him, clenching around him and squeezing, pulsing through his skull. He struggled to get to his feet and held onto the wall, his vision blurry.
Thrive was at his side in an instant, placing his hands on Warren’s head. After a moment, the pain began to fade, his vision sharpened again, and he exhaled.
He whipped around, his intent to chastise Thrive for being so reckless, but the hands on his head traveled to his face, and a single thumb brushed over his cheekbone. Warren's whole body instantly stilled.
He didn’t move for fear of ruining the moment, of ruining what must’ve been another hallucination. Warren could see the electric green flecks in Thrive’s eyes, alerting him to just how close in proximity they were to one another.
This was no hallucination.
He tried to relocate his thoughts, to prevent Thrive from being subjected to his unnecessary emotions, but he kept coming back to the face in front of him. Dragged from the thoughts of the expanse, from the memories of Alaska, to really focus on what was happening right then, to be hyper-aware of the fact that the only thing he could hear was unsteady breathing from whom he couldn’t discern the origin. Thrive kept him in the same headspace on purpose.
For the first time since leaving Earth again, trembling from the last ten minutes coupled with a sudden rush of nerves, Warren allowed himself to feel.
...And that was when Thrive unexpectedly backed away. The door into the rest of the ship slid open for him and he walked out, his steps half-hearted and very hesitant. He stopped in the middle of the corridor, his vacant gaze boring into the floor.
Warren took automated steps after him. He watched as Thrive ran a palm over his own jaw, his rationale and emotion at war in his head and becoming quite visible on his face, in his eyes as they held each other's gazes. Steel determination about to fail. The walls he'd built about to collapse into dust.
Wordlessly, Warren withdrew into the airlock until his back hit the bulkhead. His heart drummed out of control in his ribcage and threatened to escape his chest when Thrive stalked in after him, steady gait leading him to halt mere inches away, his natural furnace like a wall slamming into Warren from the front.
And Thrive leaned in as if to close the already paper-thin gap but stopped himself short, swore under his breath, a familiar word he’d never said in Warren’s presence before, and whispered his name like he drew power from it, sent a shock of heat directly into Warren’s belly and a shiver through his frame.
So Warren, fatigued of the anticipation, grabbed Thrive by the back of the neck and crushed their mouths together. Thrive abruptly pinned him into the wall and kissed him deeply, holding his face, keeping him still with the length of his body. Warren’s hands sought purchase on his strong arms and back, convinced that he was experiencing a dream that would end in seconds if he didn’t hold on tight enough. He couldn't catch a moment of air but he would've suffocated even if he did.
He drowned himself in Thrive, letting the kindled embers grow into a blazing inferno in his gut. Warren let slip an embarrassing groan, shivered again at the release of passion he’d craved for so long, at the relief of feeling wholly safe for the first time in years. He wouldn't hurt him, couldn't. But this was agony in itself.
A strange and dizzying perception of power lurking under the surface, desperate to be unleashed, nearly floored him as Thrive tangled his fingers into his hair and angled his face up to meet his height and left Warren breathless and aching everywhere. A soul the likes of which the universe had never known prowling around inside of this alien, buzzing beneath his skin, transferring itself into Warren. With that kiss, he slowed time. He stopped it.
The chime of the ship’s intercom went off somewhere by their heads, but it went ignored.
Thrive entered Warren's mind as soon as he was given permission. He crawled inside, slithered around his psyche, a mental python, setting off an explosion of light behind his eyelids. Warren’s knees were as good as gelatin—like a gunshot he could feel Thrive’s unraveling desire within his head as if it were his own, and in a way it was, but it was also very much not, and somewhere along the way he lost track.
Somehow he had the presence to wonder just how much of it was actually organic, but the way Thrive curled his arm around the back of his head and gathered him away from the wall while also gripping his chin tighter than the clutches of a man in the throes of death imbued him with a certain degree of apathy about it that he never knew could be possible. Every wave of heat permeating from Thrive’s form melted Warren’s bones, every impossibly gentle pinch at his bottom lip between his teeth kept him from functioning, and he had never felt so right in his entire life, and he was becoming drunk, enraptured, ready to relinquish his own morals and the very foundation of himself as a person if it meant he could take this as far as it needed to go. Thrive sensed that and Warren knew he sensed it because he sensed him sensing it, Thrive was very ready to indulge him, and the fingers now digging into Warren’s hips also told him so. They devoured each other as if pulling away would permanently break an unknown spell; breathing would not be worth the risk. It was messy and desperate but also full of love, and anguish, and reckless abandon, and the overhanging knowledge that one of them would not be around to do this again.
But the chiming of the intercom was so repetitive, so damning in its noisiness that it did eventually disrupt their connection. With a definite grunt of irritation and a shock to Warren’s nervous system, Thrive tore away from him and struck the answer button with his palm.
“What is it?” he barked, flushed and frustrated, sending another bolt of electricity through Warren in the way he unconsciously passed his tongue over an already-fading bruise on his bottom lip.
“The eliyi have reached the Milky Way,” Sussa said.
Warren, stunned, ran the back of a shaky hand over his own tender mouth. His fingers tingled and he was impressed by the will he possessed to continue standing on two feet. He managed to keep himself decent in the form suit again, though his mind was already several steps ahead in his own bedroom and there was unmistakable evidence of that line of thinking on his person that he saw no point in trying to hide this time.
He really hated those form suits.
Professionalism bled back into Thrive’s demeanor. “When will they arrive?” he asked Sussa.
“My guess would be three days. Four, at most.”
Thrive let out a heavy sigh. “We have to be ahead of them.”
“I’ll contact the lenaya.”
“Why didn’t you just use our suits to tell us this?”
There was a pause. Sussa cleared her throat with a bit of pomposity. “Because you were broadcasting your thoughts into the whole of space and I’m pretty sure all of C’o could hear you from here.”
The intercom shut off and the airlock fell into dark silence.
#excerpt: Destiny#UH-OH SISTERS#let me know if you'd like to be added to/removed from the tag list!#and if the tag list didn't work quite right I apologize#50 Followers Celebration#literally none of you asked for this but here it is lmao#*vibrates dramatically*#I am tagging this as not a single damn thing else
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Foggy Memory
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13114905/1/Teen-Titans-Foggy-Memory
In the early morning, Jump City would very occasionally be enveloped by a swell of fog clouds, moving in from the sea towards the shore. Being situated on a small island offshore, Titans Tower was the first to feel the velvety dampness of the mist. This also included anyone exposed to the moistening air — in this case, the resident cloaked empath. Raven floated gently above the roof of the tower, unmoving from her signature lotus position, reciting her mantra near-silently. Her hood rested on her shoulders; the sun made the pale skin and chakra gemstone on her forehead, glisten. There was a comforting warmth in the morning air that persisted even when she was surrounded by a soft blanket of clouds.
"Azarath Metrion Zinthos." Her gentle voice spoke. Those oh-so famous words, dissipating into the muffling softness of the mist that slowly enveloped her being. She was often awake at this time of the morning, greeting the sun as it broke the horizon at dawn each day. The same could not be said however, for the green young man slowly approaching her from behind. Despite his outlandish appearance, he remained unseen. The thickness of the fog would have prevented Raven from seeing him even if her eyes were open. Nothing however, could escape her perceptive empathic abilities, they could have sensed his unease from a dimension away. Beast Boy stood atop the roof, struggling to peer through the fluffy semi-transparency of the mist at the empath floating before him. He knew she was there, though. His keen sense of smell could identify her scent in a split-second. He stepped forward as quietly as possible so as not to disturb her concentration.
"I know you're there, Beast Boy…," Raven spoke with slight volume. Garfield stood in place for a second, her figure now much more visible through the sea of clouds. Raven's eyelids remained closed. "This fog can't hide your emotions from me." She stated, perfectly aware of her surroundings while unable to see. She could tell she was surrounded by mist, simply by how the thickness of the air gently muffled her mantra, a testament to how often she really was up here.
"I know." Beast Boy replied in a sombre manner. Confusion sparked in Raven at his response. "Then why were you trying to be so quiet?" she questioned.
"I didn't want to disturb your meditation. I know how important it is to you." He truthfully stated. Raven was slightly taken aback at his polite gesture then presumed the most logical explanation.
"I guess the fog doesn't muffle my voice as much as I thought it did." Raven joked, still facing out toward the sea, presuming he must've overheard her chanting.
"No." He gently responded, much to Raven's confusion again. Her brows furrowed from his responses.
"Hmm, I guess I'll have to ask Star for some nice smelling soap to help cover my scent then." She quipped once more, assuming he had used his nose instead.
"I didn't need to use any of my senses to know you were up here meditating, Raven. I know you." Garfield explained. Raven's eyebrows slowly raised, and her eyelids began to open. She unfolded her legs and her feet touched the top of the roof once more. She couldn't deny how humbled she felt at how familiar the changeling was with her everyday habits. His emotions told her he was telling the truth. He did know her, really damn well in fact. She turned to face him, struggling to see him through the fog. They both stood in place, knowing the other was looking right back at them despite how little they could see of each other.
"Hmm. Let's see – up before noon, depressed feelings pouring off of him, and he hasn't made a cheesy joke in the last 5 minutes. Something's wrong." The empath thought, keeping her gaze locked on the blurred, green man before her.
"Can I talk to you about something?" The Changeling asked quietly.
"Uhh… sure."
The Demoness replied, trying to fight off a blush from him expressing his wholesome familiarity with her. Garfield approached Raven, gently stepping past her through the mist before sitting with his legs dangling over the side of the roof, looking out into a vast sea of white. Raven mimicked his actions.
"What is it you want to talk about?" she asked sincerely, knowing how vulnerable his emotions were right now.
"I've… been having trouble sleeping," he explained, looking down at his feet with a solemn look on his face. His mouth was a flat, tight line. Not a smile nor a frown, his lips were static, the monotony only being pierced by his one exposed fang. Raven was caught in a metaphysical juxtaposition; she was simultaneously being smothered by soft, welcoming fog clouds and harsh feelings of depression, radiating from the usually chipper changeling seated next to her. While she usually seemed to give the impression that she enjoyed seeing him in pain, the truth was she hated seeing him like this. He put so much effort into making others feel happy and experience joy…even if it was sometimes at his expense. It was so upsetting to see someone who put others' feelings ahead of his own seem so down. Even now, despite feeling such strong, negative emotions, he was still thoughtful enough not to disturb her meditation. This gesture had most certainly not gone unnoticed by the empath.
"Oh. Do you know what might be the cause?" Raven asked curiously, genuinely concerned for her friend's wellbeing.
"Well… I keep having this nightmare…" he explained with a hint of reluctancy. "…and I can't seem to stop thinking about it no matter how hard I try." Garfield raised his head, looking out, musing on how much their foggy surroundings mirrored the turmoil in his head.
Raven looked on, taking in every word. "Well, what happens in this nightmare? Whatever it is, it must be pretty bad if it's affecting you of all people this much." Raven commented, recalling his joyous attitude towards life and the people around him.
Garfield cracked a small smile coupled with a slight, reddening blush to his otherwise green complexion. He wouldn't dare deny; she knew him pretty damn well, too. Quite possibly more than anyone else, in fact.
"Well basically… I keep finding myself in the middle of this grassland, but there's no animals in sight. It's so weird though, 'cause I dream about animals almost all the time! There are trees in the distance, and the grass is long and a kinda yellow colour…" The green hero explained, clearly trying to avoid the main focus of the dream. Raven remained patient with him, however. She was no stranger to having difficulty expressing her emotions, so she sympathised with her teammate's current struggle. "… and then… out of nowhere… this mirror just appears!" He exclaimed, whilst gesturing with his hands as though what he was talking about was actually in front of them.
"A mirror?" The empath queried. Perhaps this was related to his and Cyborg's unintentional visit to Nevermore a few years ago. She hoped not as she could not deny the slight guilt she felt if this was the case. Perhaps there was some hidden trauma deep within Garfield's psyche since that day that she just hadn't sensed. Raven felt creeping dread, struggling to convince herself otherwise and beginning to doubt the quality of her empathic abilities.
"It looked nothing like your mirror, just in case you were worried about that." Garfield clarified.
"Umm… ok." Raven responded in an aloof manner, hiding her true feelings of relief behind an indifferent expression. The fact he had also considered this as well, showed her how much he cared for her feelings. Raven blushed, inwardly. "Did you see anything in the mirror?" she asked, suspecting that something he saw must be the root of his current depressed feelings. Beast Boy fell silent for a moment with a look of pain painted on his face. He looked down at the rocky outcrops being lashed by the waves below, jutting into the soft blanket of grey-white cloud above, now completely surrounding Titans Tower.
"When I looked into the mirror… I saw…" he paused. Raven now drowning in his feelings of deeply-rooted sadness and conflict. This was coupled with her own feelings of apprehension, now desperate to know what he had seen in his slumber, for both of their sakes. She placed her hand on top of his.
"Gar…it's ok. You can tell me." She reassured him with the gentlest of tones. This sweet gesture almost brought a tear to his eye as he looked deep into the empath's amethyst irises. Garfield knew she was telling the truth. She always told him the truth.
"I know." He responded, confidently. "When I looked into the mirror… I saw… this kid…" He explained, now looking down again, glum.
"Kid?" Raven echoed in an inquisitive manner.
"Yeah. A little blond boy." Gar stated bluntly.
"Did you know them?" Raven asked, despite already having a pretty good idea as to what his answer would be.
"You could say that…" he alluded, with an unhappy smirk gracing his features. Raven said nothing. She had an unbreaking gaze on his emerald green eyes, she already knew what was coming.
"It was me. Ya know, before…" he trailed off, knowing Raven had already guessed, just from looking into her beautiful eyes. The empath moved her hand so that their fingers interlocked. She tightened her grip ever so slightly to ensure him she was here for him. "I know this is gonna sound weird but… I actually don't remember what I used to look like. But I knew it was me." Garfield admitted. Raven was speechless. She knew he wasn't always green, but she had never given his previous appearance as much thought as she had now. He had been this way for so long that his old, 'normal' appearance was now becoming a distant memory to him, to the point where he could no longer remember what he looked like before. She gripped his hand tighter, with sadness in her eyes.
"I couldn't help but think… how things could have been if…" he trailed off once more, fighting back tears.
"Gar…" Raven could barely form words. It was eating away at her, seeing someone so close to her in such distress. The blanket of clouds surrounding them provided no comfort.
"I lost it!" Gar exclaimed abruptly. "I didn't want to think about it! I didn't want to see it! I punched the mirror and it smashed to pieces." His face scrunched up as all his emotions began to seep out all at once. "And then everything went black. I know there's more but… I just can't remember it… it's all a blur." Beast Boy's voice began to break up and his eyes stained red as tears began to stream down his cheeks. Raven let him get it all out. Beast Boy was always so chilled-out and laid-back, and she knew he needed this chance to vent.
"Garfield… I… I'm so sorry." She comforted. No animal instincts were required to tell him how genuine she was. Suddenly, an idea popped into the demoness' head. "There is… a way I could help you remember…" Raven trailed off. "It might help you deal with what you're going through. It just depends on one thing… Do you trust me?" she asked, looking hopeful and expectant at her green contemporary. Garfield turned towards her and reached out his arm, placing it gently on her shoulder.
"Raven, I trust you with my life." Garfield stated truthfully. They both looked into each other's' eyes, Raven's cheeks blared crimson and Gar's lips showed a much-missed smile. She struggled to find words and attempted to disguise her infatuation with his statement, by falsely clearing her throat.
"I could enter your mind and see what else is hidden in your dream." Raven explained.
"Dude, are you sure you wanna see that? For all we know there isn't anything else going on up there and you could get stuck in my brain!" Beast Boy stressed, pointing both hands towards his cranium in a panicked manner.
"Garfield I know what I'm doing. I don't need to see anything else. And if you let me in, I promise not to look any deeper." She clarified, now placing her hand on his back.
"I know you do, and… I know you wouldn't. It's just… what if there's a ton of nasty stuff waiting in my mind for you? I'm not sure I could risk putting you through that. I'd never forgive myself if something horrible happened to you!" The changeling stressed.
Raven, touched by his concern for her wellbeing. "Well, I'll never forgive myself if I do nothing and have to watch you deal with this all alone!" Raven retaliated. "Besides, you're not the only who has to feel all of your sad emotions..." she reminded him.
Garfield's brow furrowed as he looked down at the roof below them, slightly peeved with himself for forgetting how much his emotions could negatively affect her too. He settled on a decision, then looked up at her with confidence.
"Ok… do it. And hey, if it worked with Robin, then why not me?" He said. "And Raven…" She looked into his eyes as he spoke. "Thank you." While Raven was touched by his sentiment, the gratitude was premature.
"Don't thank me yet, Gar." She proclaimed, placing her hands on her temples and gently closing her eyelids. Beast Boy relaxed his body and mind, gently closing his eyes.
"Azarath Metrion Zinthos…" Raven spoke quietly, her eyes glowing white and her soul self floating up into the shrouding sea of clouds, before diving down into Garfield's psyche. When Raven opened her eyes, it looked almost no different to the view she was seeing a few moments ago, just without a green changeling in view. There were many clouds surrounding her, except these were dark grey in colour. "This is definitely the right place!" she proclaimed to herself. She had managed to manifest herself into Garfield's place in his own dream. As the clouds parted, she found herself in the middle of a grassland, with many trees in the distance and long yellow grass at her feet. There was no mirror though, but instead the shattered fragments that once formed a mirror, lay strewn in the grass with an empty frame standing tall between the shards. In the reflection of one of the fragments, she saw lightning strike behind her, followed by a crash of thunder. Suddenly, different sounds assaulted her ear drums from every direction. Somewhere she could hear an animal squealing angrily. She recognised the call from Beast Boy's habit of transforming into them: a monkey. The sound of violently running water began booming all around her with unbearable volume, interjected with haunting screams. Raven placed her hands over her ears in a futile attempt to nullify this shrieking pain collapsing to her knees in the process, clenching her teeth and forcing her eyes shut. When the mortifying noises finally stopped, there was an eerie silence. When the empath opened her eyes, she was looking directly at the ground in front of her. She saw there was only one shard of the mirror left, and it bore an all too familiar face: the orange and black mask of Slade. Stumbling back slightly, Raven slowly removed her hands from her ears knowing he was once again more than just a nightmare in the physical world since the defeat of Trigon. Gone were the horrifying booming and shrieking sounds from before, now there was the exact opposite: near-silent whispers.
"She doesn't want to see you, anymore. She doesn't want to see you, anymore. She doesn't want to see you anymore." The menace in his voice was a painful memory for any member of the Titans. While she hadn't been present for this, she instantly knew who the masked man was referring to. Raven had seen all she'd needed to see, not to mention, hear. Her soul self took off into the horizon, appearing to become one with the dark clouds above, before soaring through them and leaving the expanses of Garfield's mind. Emerging from the changeling's psyche, a dark bird made of pure magical energy broke through the sea of foggy clouds surrounding the two teammates. Her soul self re-entered her body and her eyes began to dim from their shining white, returning to their normal amethyst state. Garfield opened his eyes, looking like he had never been happier to see Raven in his life, and that was saying a lot! Raven looked over at his tear-ridden face. They exchanged a look of understanding for only a second, before she pulled him in for a much-needed hug. Garfield was so overwhelmed with emotion, it took him several long seconds before he could even reciprocate.
"So uhh… I hope you didn't see anything too embarrassing in there, haha." Beast Boy chuckled through the tears, muffled by his face being nestled into Raven's shoulder.
"Garfield…I'm so sorry." The empath consoled. "I'm sorry for all the horrible things that have happened to you: The accident that gave you your powers, Terra, even me at times… You are such a kind and gentle soul, and you didn't deserve any of it." Raven explained, calming and mollifying the teary changeling.
"Raven…" Garfield didn't know what to say. What she had said had struck a chord with him. He knew that what she'd said had come from the heart. "Thank you… so much." Tears of sadness had slowly turned to tears of joy and love. A void deep within his heart felt as if was being filled again. Much to his dismay, she removed her arms from him, giving him some room to breathe and catch his breath after crying.
"A lot of it still seems… well, foggy to me though, heheh." Garfield explained with a distinct lack of confidence and a breathy laugh coinciding with his corny joke. "Like, I'm still not exactly sure what I looked like back then…maybe it wasn't even me and I was wrong? I dunno…" he trailed off. Raven didn't speak, but had a laser focus on his expression. "Oh well… I'm Beast Boy now, so I guess it doesn't really matter that much, right?"he asked rhetorically, but Raven interjected.
"No." She stated sternly. Garfield looked confused by both her statement and the tone in which she spoke it in. "That was you." Garfield was still in the dark. "I didn't see it, because that's not how I see you. That kid you saw was you, but you weren't sure because that's not how you see yourself. You see yourself as Beast Boy, but that's not who you are." The green teenager looked on with wide eyes. "No matter what happens, no matter how much you change… you are and always will be Garfield Logan. Nothing anything or anyone ever does will change who you are." Raven spoke with dead-seriousness in her voice.
Garfield could barely even comprehend what had just occurred. He was at an utter loss for words. "Raven, I… I don't know what to say…" he said in a quiet tone.
"You don't need to say anything." She cut him off. Raven stood up and began to walk away after dropping such a verbal and emotional bomb on her teammate.
"Raven… wait!" Garfield called, urgency in his voice but a calm demeanour. She froze in place after hearing her name uttered in such a way. She had made it halfway across the roof before Garfield caught up to her. He reached out his arm, and gently gripped her hand in his, prompting her to turn around. When she rotated on her heel, she saw a beautiful pair of emerald irises looking deep into her heart and soul, but only for a second. The next thing she knew, his lips were upon hers. She didn't fight him, and she didn't want to. In fact, she couldn't help but let her eyelids drop, euphoric at the sensation of his touch. It just felt… right. The kiss was simple. No tongue, no moans, chaste and heartfelt to its core. The tears still adhering to his cheeks began to mark hers too. Gar's eyes were closed, and he felt like the luckiest man in the world right now, because in his mind, he was. He knew there was no one else like her, and he was so lucky to even know her and now here he was, kissing the empathic demoness like the invaluable treasure she truly was to him. When their lips finally parted, no words were spoken. The silence spoke for itself. When they opened their eyes, there wasn't a cloud in sight.
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