#jackie(not using a single brain cell): well
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OFMD EP1 REACTION
i already know this is a dream sequence but opening on stede and izzy having a badass swordfight is dope
stede's fantasy is all about him looking and sounding super masc... babyboy that's not you...
HE FUCKING STABBED IZZY. HE KILLED HIM
and of course izzy's last words are "you absolute twaaaaaaaaaat" i'm fucking dying
AND THERE'S THE SLOMO BAYWATCH RUN GOD I LOVE IT
"knew you'd find me babe" and of course ed's got his beautiful beard back and he looks perfect and he loves stede's beard sfjgdskjgdshj stede
aaaaaaand f in the chat for stede's dream sequence, wee john is doing chemical warfare
"can't be worse than you moaning 'ed, oh, ed' all night long" f in the chat for black pete and the rest of the crew
AHAHAHA roach going "he's single" and shoving the swede at jackie. c'mon swede be a hobosexual for us we gotta sleep somewhere
"come closer. spanish jackie don't bite. i lied, i bite" and he giggles i am immediately on board congrats jackie on your 21st husband
love olu's fancy bartender waistcoat!
"i'll buy you a drink" this guy! the guy who's practically stede's twin! in the disco outfit that stede steals! is he the guy stede does a punch on? is he hitting on stede? oh my GOD where is this going
"richard banes. are you stede bonnet?" dear lord this guy could not have a posher accent. is he the guy who ends up with a fake nose. he's an undercover cop isn't he. how else does he know who stede is
awww fuck we're cutting to ed. shit's about to go down
(stede) "hope you're thinking of me as well" close-up on ed's TRUST NO-ONE tattoo. fuuuuuuuuck
and immediately the wedding ed's gonna crash is like some extremely classist/"we must breed more upper class, worthy humans" shit, so ed can do a little murder actually i immediately don't feel bad for them
"objection" ed can board a ship without anyone fucking noticing if it looks cool actually
THERE HE IS he's made everyone put on the emo paint. i keep pausing and rewatching this part. love izzy's sarcastic little smile
jim looks so fucking sexy
so does frenchie tbh
ed's just eating the cake. cake topper my beloved...
OH NO IVAN DIED. OFF-SCREEN. F IN THE CHAT. and frenchie only cares about the cake JUST KIDDING HE IS HARDCORE DISSOCIATING. poor fang tho...
stede taking down blackbeard's wanted poster... does he have a little shrine in the pig sty he's sleeping in. does he draw hearts on the posters
"he's just blowing off some steam" stede has decided the atrocities are cool and fun actually. atrocities are okay if the man doing them has big beautiful brown eyes too. what about it
"i also killed someone and stole their kiosk. sometimes action is better than vision" can we get sue on the crew? "that's what i've been telling him" "that's 'cause you're the smart one" sue confirms that olu is the only crewmember with a brain cell
'we can't turn up with any old ship, we need to look good" STEDE. FOR THE LOVE OF FUCKING GOD.
ed putting the little cake topper in his breast pocket next to his heart i'm going feral
"did everyone get cake?" "yeah they got cake"
ed is doing drugs and izzy has never looked more miserable and soggy. he looks like someone dunked him in an inkwell
OH HERE'S THE SCENE. THE SAD WET MEOW MEOW SCENE
shit's gotta be really bad if izzy needs to be rocked and cuddled while he cries... babyboy you should have just let ed hold the talent show...
i am not at all surprised that jackie's taking all of stede and co.'s savings. this is jackie's house. jackie does not have a tip jar. you're in the republic of pirates hide it better next time
BOO CAKES!
well you didn't even get jackie and the swede a wedding present. this is her wedding present. HIDE THE JAR BETTER-
"what if we took that back?" "i think my husbands would have a problem with that. have you met all twenty of 'em?" PAUSING TO LOOK AT THE HUSBANDS.
"that's a lot of husbands" black pete misses his husband, tails. he misses him a lot
love the one wearing no shirt and a tight waistcoat/corset thing with the axe. one's got cool glasses. two of them are either super twinky or lady-husbands, excellent either way (jackie and her lady-husbands, nandor and his guy-wives... beautiful...)
EDIT: THE TWO HUSBANDS ARE TRANS GUYS HELL YEAH HELL YEAH
"i know that guy we had breakfast together" "you will be having a lot of breakfasts-es together" "oh ok" sometimes a family is a pirate businesswoman and her 20 19 18 20 husbands and we stan
maybe the sexy axe husband cooked the breakfast. i am delighting in imagining them being all cute and domestic until jackie needs them to stand around and look intimidating and then they all scramble into position. their job is to cook breakfast and look sexy and scare the shit out of anyone jackie points them at
i like to imagine that as soon as one of jackie's husbands died she's like fuck i gotta get a new one to make up the numbers. my brand is 20 husbands i can't be seen with only 19. who's new in town that is remotely attractive. ooh, swedish blondie with a metal tooth, he'll look nice next to the one in glasses
anyway stede and co. are now homeless rip
why does roach have buttons on a rope leash sfhdskjghsgk is buttons so desperate to return to his true love (the sea) that they have to treat him like a toddler trying to run into traffic
"dear ed, i think i'm afraid to see you. i'm not afraid you're gonna kill me, i'm afraid your life is better without me!" I AM GOING TO LOSE IT. SOMEONE GET THIS POOR BOY SOME SELF-ESTEEM
i paused on the wanted poster and it said "wanted for theft brigandry larceny arson tax evasion" sgkjhsfgkjsfhgk the fucking IRS is going to find ed before stede does
"could be. could be, mate" stede your ed impression sucks shit
oh god richard's there. are you a cop or just a fan.
"the gentleman pirate saved my life! quite frankly, you're my hero!" with his fancy fucking coat oh god stede has a fan. stede has a copycat fan. AND STEDE'S NOW HAPPY OH MY GOD I AM HITTING HIM WITH A HAMMER (affectionate)
he fed stede a line about jackie's roman puzzle chest... i don't fucking trust this guy i'm convinced he's either a navy plant or a husband plant...
(if he is truly just a baby stede i'm putting him in a jar and shaking him (affectionate))
I FUCKING LOVE THE SWEDE
oh god back to ed's depression den
"not good enough. and that's another toe. take your boot off." okay ed, i know you're trying to get izzy or anybody to kill you in your sleep or something but i'm still. noooo don't commit atrocities you're soo sexy aha
"who am i to you" oh god. shit's gotta be really really fucking bad if izzy's doing emotional intimacy
"i have... love for you, edward" i'm going to explode
first of all izzy is delusional if he thinks he knows ed better than anyone else - we know and love this about him
second, con's fucking acting is going to kill me. he's looking at the floor, there are tears in his eyes, he's whispering and pauses as if saying the word love is going to kill him (and it's not just the emotional repression considering how volatile ed is)
and the way the line is written - it's not "i love you" or "i'm in love with you", it's not a thing izzy does or is, it's a thing he has. an object he's carrying around, separate to him, he's trying to distance himself from it.
and of course ed interrupts him with "oh come on" because he does not trust that anyone actually loves him and he doesn't want anyone to any more, he wants izzy to hate him and kill him!
"i'm worried about you, we all are. the atmosphere on this ship is completely poisoned. but if we could all just maybe... talk it through" SHIT'S GOT TO BE REALLY REALLY UNQUESTIONABLY HORRIFICALLY FUCKING BAD IF IZZY IS ADOPTING STEDE'S CATCHPHRASE
ed, ominously "as a crew" as blackbeard's leitmotif starts up... WORST CHOICE OF WORDS EVER IZZY I'M TERRIFIED
izzy: i fucked up i fucked up i fucked up i fucked up i fucked up
POOR FANG IS WHIMPERING ED DON'T SCARE HIM!!!!!
"i know who we should ask, ol' blackbeard!" (shoves gun under his own chin) jesus christ ed
"FUCKING END!" izzy has had ENOUGH
AND AS SOON AS HE SAYS STEDE'S NAME ED SHOOTS HIM
"frenchie, you are now first mate" STEPS OVER IZZY GROANING IN PAIN
i am very worried
HARD CUT TO THE SWEDE AND JACKIE LMAO
oh god stede's adopted ricky. this can only end terribly
aaaaaand f in the chat for ricky's nose
"i can't believe you guys robbed jackie! so bad!" swede.
jackie looks gorgeous though
SUE IS OF COURSE THE BADASS PIRATE QUEEN
and jackie loves her a sexy swedish double-crosser
thank you sue for adopting the gang of idiots
OH GOD JIM AND ARCHIE MOPPING UP IZZY'S BLOOD. THAT'S A LOT OF BLOOD
poor fang is still crying
awwww and jim's telling him pinocchio to calm him down! (but they suck at telling stories)
"do the voice"
and jim does the fucking voice
ed sounds like he's holding back tears as he describes sailing and robbing and never landing
"fuck you, stede bonnet" "good night, ed teach" HHHHHHH
stede come on man pick up a fucking oar you're not the captain any more
at least we got one romantic reunion! and it was buttons and the ocean <3
sdkfjhsdkjgsdk everyone being like "are we soup merchants now? sweet" and olu with his poor overworked brain cell like "hang on... there's no soup here"
ZHENG YI SAO FUCK YEAH BAY BEE
AFTER CREDITS SEQUENCE!!! storytime with jim extended edition!!!!!
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Rumrollins Week 2021
May 31st: Free Day!
So @quillingyousoftly broke my heart with THIS, and you should read it (if you haven’t already)
Brock is in the middle of cooking dinner when his phone rings.
It’s his landline though, not his cell, so he ignores it. Anyone important who needs to get hold of him knows to call his cell, and the unknown caller rings off without leaving a message.
They try again though, half an hour later and just as Brock is stepping into the bath, and then again once he’s done and toweling off, but this time they don’t hang up.
“I think it’s time for you to fuck off, Mr Telemarketer,” he growls, stomping through the hall to where the phone is still ringing, but just as he’s about to yank out its cord, the answerphone kicks in.
“Commander Rumlow, this is Commander Harrison at the San Francisco field office. Please give me a—”
Brock snatches the handset out of its cradle so quickly that he almost fumbles it. “Yeah, I’m here,” he says, sudden fear making his heart skip a beat. “What is it?”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and then Harrison sighs. “Commander, are you aware that you’re listed as Jack Rollins’ next of kin?”
Brock closes his eyes. He can’t speak, can’t breathe. He spoke to Jack just a few days ago. God, it hasn’t even been a week.
“Commander?”
“Yeah,” he manages to say around the tightness in his throat. He feels lightheaded. “Yeah, I am. What, um… what’s happened?”
---
He feels numb.
He doesn’t feel sad, or angry, or confused. Jack is dead, but Brock doesn’t feel anything at all.
The medical examiner is going to rule it a suicide. There isn’t much doubt about the cause of death because Jack left the bottle of pills on the kitchen counter. But any death of a SHIELD agent raises eyebrows, and that means an autopsy, and an autopsy means a delay before Brock can take him home.
He’s going to go back to D.C. with a coffin and one duffel bag.
“You’re telling me that this is it?” Brock asks. The look he gives Harrison could strip paint, but the other man simply shrugs.
Jack’s personal effects amount to five t-shirts; two pairs of jeans and a pair of gray slacks; a couple of jumpers; two button-down shirts; a pair of sneakers and one pair of black dress shoes; one gray blazer; underwear and socks; workout gear; a razor; a phone; a wallet; and a couple of books.
And a framed picture of the two of them that had been found next to Jack’s body. Brock remembers that photo well; Jack had taken it and immediately announced that he thought he looked stupid in it.
Brock cleans the smudges from the glass, wraps it up in one of Jack’s jumpers, and then places it carefully at the very top of the bag.
Jack’s entire life fits into one duffel bag, and Brock has it all packed away again in under two minutes.
“He was always quiet, you know?” Harrison starts, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. “We’d invite him out for drinks but he’d always decline, and we just... We didn’t think anything of it. Plenty of guys like to keep work and home separate, right? Don’t want to take work home, don’t want to bring home to work… You know how it goes.” Brock doesn’t say anything, and Harrison continues on quietly. “He was a bit odd, but he was a great agent. He used to show us all up on the mats, every single week. I guess we should have—”
“Don’t blame yourself. You couldn’t have known,” Brock cuts in brusquely. He lifts the bag onto his shoulder. “Now, where was he living?”
---
Brock is no stranger to death, but even so it is an eerie sensation stepping into Jack’s apartment.
SHIELD hadn’t bothered to find him somewhere nice, but it’s serviceable. It has just one single bedroom, and a very small kitchen, but there’s no damp on the walls, no signs of pests, and he can’t hear the neighbors through the walls.
He doubts very much that they ever heard Jack, either.
Harrison had assured him that the apartment had been left as it was found, but Brock is still half-convinced that he has the wrong place, because there’s no sign that Jack lived here.
Hell, there’s no sign that anyone lived here.
The living room walls are bare; the kitchen cupboards are empty. In the fridge, Brock finds a solitary box of leftover takeout, and there’s a bar of soap on the side of the bathroom sink. He steps through to the bedroom expecting it to be every bit as nondescript as the rest of the apartment, but it isn’t, because the sheets on the right-hand side of the bed are still wrinkled from where Jack had laid down to die.
“Oh, Jesus Christ, Jackie,” Brock breathes. His eyes start stinging as he takes in the sight.
He had wondered why Jack had taken pills when a self-inflicted gunshot would have been easier, but now it makes sense; SHIELD would have needed to clean and redecorate, and Jack would have wanted to minimize the unpleasantness his death would cause. He would have felt bad about ruining someone’s day by forcing them to scrub blood and brain matter off the wall and out of the carpet.
Brock sinks to the floor as the tears finally come. He can’t stop looking at the bed. Jack had called him from that bed to say goodbye—only Brock hadn’t known that. He’d told him that he’d call him later, but without really meaning it. Work had been frantic that week, and Brock had been feeling overwhelmed. He had just wanted some peace and quiet; an evening to himself without interruptions.
But Jack had been dying, and Brock had blown him off.
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i once believed love would be black and white, but it’s golden.
One year together measured in the memories lit by golden haze.
Rating: Teen (Implied sexual content)
Paring: Tentoo/Rose Tyler
WC: 6k
Tw: panic/anxiety attacks & drinking/smoking
A/N: a light plot. more of a character study than anything. but like, it was fun to write so. (angst & fluff)
Song: Daylight by Taylor Swift
Read on Ao3
Maybe you ran with the wolves and refused to settle down
Maybe I've stormed out of every single room in this town
Threw out our cloaks and our daggers because it's morning now
It's brighter now, now
__________________________________________________
“He needs you. That’s very me.” echoed through her mind as she watched him sleep.
They were driving back to the zeppelin. Pete driving with her mum in the front seat. They were trying to give them as much privacy as possible. Not that it mattered. The moment they made it to the main roadway, he fell asleep.
He fell asleep holding her hand. Like he was holding onto his promise.
When Jackie realized he was asleep, she went on about Tony. Which morphed into why Pete needed to finish some project that had been sitting in the garden for a month now. Rose pointed out why it had been abandoned. Her mum gave her no mind. Explaining you need to finish what you start. Rose scoffed. Quiet enough to avoid a scolding from her mother.
It took about an hour to get there.
Once they woke up the Doctor- which took a lot more effort than it used to- and made it onto the airship, Rose found herself exhausted. The last 72 hours catching up to her.
72 hours of fixing timelines and finding her universe and saving all of them. An emotional roller-coaster stuffed in for good fun. She wasn’t sure how she felt right now. Everything was foggy- including her vision.
She made her way to her usual seat. The Doctor not trailing far behind. They were pressed together in the seat. Not that they had to be, but it was a subconscious thing. Something they did before everything could give her butterflies all over again.
They listened to Pete’s call to Torchwood. Well, he did more than Rose. The drone of his voice forced her eyes shut. She started to drift off, resting her head on the Doctor’s shoulder.
She was half asleep when he asked, “It’s gonna be us?” in a low voice.
She reached for his new, new, new, hand, “Yeah.”
&&
They were lucky. Lucky to have each other. Rose reminded herself that everyday. But falling into things- things they never did before- was beginning to look more difficult than they thought.
Days full of new aliens and old tropes. Meetings that sounded exciting in theory but when given context, Rose couldn’t process correctly. The Doctor trying to fit into the routine of work and home. Old jealous feelings and new conflicting ones falling out of each other’s mouths. Learning to communicate truthfully.
But they made it work. Just like they always have and always will. Although time decided it would move slow.
It was a hell of a day repairing a fleet of fly-sized spaceships and giving the captains directions to Bangladesh. That’s what the Doctor did. Rose was granted the honour of detailing her most recent experience with the “Original Doctor” and how they saved universes.
There was a heavy dread in the back of her mind. Thinking of all the versions of the people she knew that she failed to save. She never got used to detailing what happened when she jumped. But the dread had become something new now. It was thinking of the day they drag the Doctor into an interview room and drill him on how he’s different. She already was holding a grudge against the stoic people she knew would question him.
She didn’t like them in the first place.
Rose came home late. Annoyed and brain dead by the ten hours of redundant questions. Why had they waited two weeks to ask? She didn’t know. But the thought only annoyed her a little bit more. The Doctor was lying on the couch, watching some documentary. Probably about the universe. She couldn’t really focus on anything either way.
“Rose!” His head popped up when the front door closed. Hair adorably mussed and a bright smile on his face.
She gave him a small smile, “Hey.”
He looked like he was about to ask her questions about her day. But bit his tongue when she gave him a pointed look, “Tired?”
She nodded and fell onto the couch next to him. She didn’t want to explain. She could probably ask Pete for the tapes or documents if he was so desperate for an explanation. But he looked at her with those puppy dog eyes and she caved. Giving him a brief explanation of what she had to say and why it was stupid. It wasn’t much but it was what she had to offer.
“I was stuck on Earth working for U.N.I.T. for five years. Reminded me that I wasn’t a desk jockey or meant to live a linear timeline.” He said matter-of-factly.
Rose snorted, “You’re stuck with both for the time being.”
“Not so bad when I’ve got you.”
The words echoed memories she still considered precious. They happened more often now. Soft moments laced in a golden haze replaying in her mind. They changed her moods completely.
This time, she couldn’t help but lean up and kiss him. Something they were trying to find the natural for. He still let himself go lovesick. Like now, as Rose pulled back with a tongue in tooth grin at his small sound.
He wasn’t entirely ruffled. But definitely dopey eyed when he mumbled, “I love it when you grin like that.”
She hopped up to grab her phone, much to his dismay. And people thought they were attached before.
“Rose, wh-”
“I need to call mum. And order a pizza. You can look for a movie in the meantime.”
“That’ll be at least an hour! What am I supposed to do after I find the movie?”
Rose raised her eyebrows, “Last time it took you almost two hours because ‘Films aren’t the same here!’”
The Doctor opened his mouth to defend himself but couldn’t quite find a good defense. She was happy that he didn’t. Because she was right. he found a movie right before the pizza showed up. It was some sci-fi fantasy that didn’t really interest Rose but she doubted she’d stay up until he found another one.
For a man who was so used to letting things happen, he was picky over the media he consumed.
It was a pretty movie, she would give it that. The colors and framing were nice. But nothing else really appealed to her. After eating and curling into his side, she found herself drifting to sleep. Only opening her eyes when the light was bright enough to wake her up. Or when the Doctor moved because his arm was falling asleep or the dialogue pulled him into the story.
Part of her wished she wasn’t so tired. She loved watching him react to new things. Now they lived in a universe of brand new. It normally included having to hear him complain that she should at least try and enjoy the story. He didn’t protest too much. Just enough to remind her that you could find good in every story. So in return, she’d read a book.
Reading gave her a better advantage of watching him. His eyebrows and lips would twitch, as if he was replying. Or maybe criticizing the character’s choices. His fingers would twiddle and feet would tap. It was almost childish, how much he immersed himself.
She loved it. But she was also happy with where she was- option number two. It was also twice as comfortable.
Before she knew it, she was being lifted off the couch. Rose could feel him strain slightly as he carried her. She tried to hide her smile but couldn’t help but let a small one ghost her face. He tapped the bedroom door open with his foot. Moving as gently and quietly as possible, as if she wasn’t a deep sleeper. He knew that well.
Maybe he didn’t know when she was pretending. It made something catch in her throat. All the times she would pretend to be asleep- most of the time because she was already halfway there- just to spend time close to him. Did he never really know?
When he tucked her into bed she realized that he had yet to spend a night in the bedroom. Sure, he needed a little less sleep than the average human- because he wasn’t average. They shared a bed several times before, but he never stayed with her now. Granted, her bedroom wasn’t an alien jail cell or an archaic guest room.
It was an intimacy they never had without barriers and boundaries. Before, they were too aware of what time and space can do. Well he was. When he kissed her forehead, Rose realized it was something they could throw into the wind.
She grabbed his arm before he moved away, “Stay.”
&&
There was a company party at Torchwood. The Doctor had been around long enough- two months and three days- for people to know who he was. Which meant he and Rose ended up staying for an afterparty. And then found a few.
In theory, it was Jake’s fault. He was the one who wanted to test the Doctor’s limits. They were greater than Rose expected. And unlike previous times, he wasn’t afraid to let it show. They ran around the streets of London. Jake showing them holes in the wall, where to get anything and everything. He broke up around 1 in the morning. Leaving them to laugh when one of them stumbled and hide from her father’s paparazzi in dark alleys. It didn’t do much but make them look worse in the morning.
They didn’t care. Too busy having a good time. There’s no doubt in that. They danced and flirted and had way more than one too many. Stumbled home and…
Rose woke up to a pounding headache. Maybe she was getting too old to have that type of fun. But the moment she had the thought, she decided the hangover was worth the fun. Even if the bed was empty when she woke up.
She got out of bed with a groan and grabbed the first shirt within arms’ reach. Which happened to be the Doctor’s button down from the night before. She brushed her teeth and took a few painkillers before walking out into the living room.
The stereo system was playing music that Rose wasn’t familiar with. But she heard him humming along.
She stopped and smiled as she caught sight of him. Clad only in a pair of briefs, the Doctor was swaying side to side as he chopped something. He was light. Not the tense and straight-backed man who needed to prove he was still worth his title. Hair beautifully messy, a blush spreading over the freckles of his back, and remnants of them from the night before.
He was beautiful. Especially when he let the weight off his shoulders.
She couldn’t help wrapping her arms around him when he was within reach. Pressing a kiss against his spine as he chuckled. Appreciating the heat his body left against her cheek.
“Good morning.” The vibration of his voice made her feel light as well.
She hummed in response. Appreciating the feeling of it all.
“I figured I could make us some breakfast.” He said, his voice slightly hoarse.
“Have you made any tea yet?”
“No.” A tinge of pink gathered on his cheeks, “I waited because it’s better when you make it.”
She let go with an exaggerated sigh and a smack of his bum. Smirking to herself at his quip, which was exactly as she always thought. She made their tea in their respective mugs. Her’s was one her mum painted with Tony, his was the one Tony made for him as a surprise. It was lumpy and chipped and colorful. Rose knew it was the few things that would expand into the sentimental collection he’d grow. It would probably remain one of his favorites.
She sat on the counter next to where he was making their omelettes once the tea was ready. She watched his focus intense when he went to flip them. Tongue daring to peek out the side of his mouth.
“Since when did you learn to cook?” She asked suddenly.
He placed his omelette on a plate before giving an explanation.”
“Oh, er,” His hand went to rub the back of his head, “When you have meetings or something during lunch, Jake has been showing me some stuff. He gets a kick out of it. Finally found something he’s better at than me.”
Rose laughed, “You found yourself a drinking buddy!”
“Oi!” He scowled, she noticed how he barely kept his finger from pointing, “I have not become that domestic, Rose Tyler!”
She couldn’t keep but laughing even more. The image of a Doctor disheveled and only in his pants, making breakfast and trying to defend that he still had an edge. The only thing that could make it any better was a “Kiss the Cook” apron.
Rose made note to get him one for the next holiday.
“Rose!” He whined, “Please, will you let off it?”
She found herself saying, “Make me.”
The Doctor wasn’t having any of that taken lightly, he took the two steps to invade her personal space with zero hesitation. The next laugh got caught in her chest. The smile remained though.
He smirked when the only sounds were their breathing and the music.
“Didn’t have to do much to do that.”
“You wish.” She mumbled, trying not to show how much she wanted him to kiss her.
“You’re wearing my shirt.” It came from deep in his chest.
He kept close to her. Close enough to where she could feel his breath against her lips. She was seconds from giving in. Letting him win until-
“Food’s getting cold!” He made a dramatic spin to grab their plate.
Rose kept in the groan. Feeding his ego was the last thing she wanted to do in the moment.
Which was fruitless. Because he still had sharper hearing. Thus, he easily made out the “Tease.” she let out underneath a loud sigh.
“You can wait, we’ve got the rest of our lives.”
She followed him to the table, “You wouldn’t say the same if I did it to you.”
He set the plates down and turned to face her, an offended look on his face.
“As if.”
She smiled, “As if you haven’t thought the same way.”
“Like…?” He did a poor job of hiding the way he looked at her.
“Well, we could stay inside all day. Just the two of us.” She took a step closer.
“I thought that was already planned.”
She ignored him. Standing on her toes and whispering, “Or the rest of the weekend.” before pulling him into a kiss. Only to push him away when it became a little more than chaste.
“Minx.”
&&
The day she had been dreading came two weeks later. Rose’s ears had been ringing ever since she went by the Doctor’s lab to see if he was ready to go. Only to find a few of his coworkers and to hear that he got taken up for an interview. Jake said he didn’t see him during their breaks.
She called her mum everyday. It was habitual. But today it seemed like Jackie knew what was happening. Maybe Pete told her. Rose didn’t really care. She might later.
Why didn’t they deserve a heads up?
Jackie tried her best to soothe Rose. She could hear her daughter pacing the flat, rummaging through things. Half-heartedly listening to Jackie’s story about Tony and dinner. She was halfway out the door when Rose said,
“He’s home. Talk to you later.”
And he was a mess. Hair messy but not in the way Rose liked. Shirt untucked and blazer unbuttoned. His jaw set. He looked angry. The type of anger that would hide behind his eyes. That made deep brown shine gold if you knew him. She wondered if this was going to be a different anger than before. She heard stories of Donna Noble’s emotional and passionate rants and rages. She saw Donna close to falling apart when she sent her back to fix the timeline.
He looked a lot like both right now. A mix of a wildfire and a downpour.
“Doctor?”
He looked afraid.
“Hey, c’mere.”
His fist clenched.
“Talk to me.”
She reached for his hand and led him to the sofa.
She couldn’t read him. All tempestuous thoughts couldn’t translate the way she was used to. He saw that. So instead he tried to put on the facade of someone who has it together. One that only told her it was worse. Something terrible tugged at something deep within him.
“I didn’t think it’d be that bad.” He cleared his voice, “It actually didn’t bother me until I got home.”
It was exactly what she expected. Everything that made her heart hurt for him.
“It does that, doesn’t it?” She wasn’t sure what to say.
Her mum had always been better at this. She always knew how to get through, to tell people it was okay to say what they needed. Rose was better at feeling the same as them without the words. But she sat in front of a silent rambling man.
“Yeah. It’s a blow to the chest.”
She reached for his hand, interlocking their pinky fingers. There was a static shock when she did. And that seemed to be the tipping point. The shock that told him to let go.
“I need you now.” His voice broke at his attempt to hold back tears, “I don’t know. Before I could go on. I could keep going. But it’s different, isn’t it?”
Rose nodded. Still unsure of what to say, how to help. She understood. Understood so clearly she wondered if he had tapped into her mind.
“Do you think they realize what they say?”
“Yeah.” Rose looked down, “They’ve done it to me and mum several times. Well, mostly me.”
“How did you deal with it?” His eyes were wide. He looked lost trying to navigate what he was feeling.
“I knew I had to get back to you.” It came out simple. Like it was clear. Like she never spent days in bed after these interrogations sometimes.
He shook his head, “I’m not the me that you were trying to get back to. They know that. You know that.”
“I know you’re the same man. One less heart and hair that’s got a streak he always wanted.”
“Now I’ve got a last name and pay rent. Not exactly the man you met.”
“It’s been eight years since we met, for me. We change. I don’t mind, Doctor.”
He grabbed her hand, not taking his eyes off of it, “Some people do.”
“To hell with them. We’re going to live lives they can only dream of.”
A silence settled over them. Rose heard her phone vibrating in the kitchen, but didn’t care. She watched as his eyes traced her face. Curious and willing. Unsure and timid.
“I’m not sure what else is going to happen. I don’t really care,” He took a shaky breath, “All I know is that it’s you.”
&&
Her mum and Pete asked for them to look after Tony for an evening. There was some publicity event or whatever. Jackie couldn’t remember what exactly. Rose never minded. Her little brother was easier to take care of than most would think. Raised just as she was plus a little more expense. He deserved it. The miracle child who kept her company at her worst times. He knows it too.
He also adored the Doctor. For one, he looked super cool and was super cool because he saved the universe and worlds with his sister. Two, Tony could ask him any question and he’d have the answer, the Doctor never dulled it down either. He just would answer the questions that followed. Tony’s favorite thing though, was that they could get into messes and out of them without too much consequence. Rose was sure that if he knew the words, he’d already be calling him a brother-in-law.
As much as they were two peas in a pod, it took an hour of debate between the boys for them to figure out what they were going to do. In the midst of the Doctor arguing the pros of his idea, Rose announced that they would be going to the park.
After a walk around, they settled on a hill. The Doctor laid out his trenchcoat for him and Rose to rest on. Tony left for a few minutes before coming back with a handful of flowers. Handing them to Rose and asking her to make him a crown. Before taking off to find more, so they could all have one.
“Since when could you do that?” The Doctor asked, pulling out a prototype of his sonic.
Rose shrugged, “I taught myself when I’d babysit my little cousins. Muscle memory at this point.”
“You’ve never mentioned it.”
Rose looked up from the braided weeds with a smile and raised eyebrow, “‘Cause you’re not a six year old who needs to be kept busy. At least, most of the time.”
“I’m six months and fourteen days.” He puffed his chest.
Rose rolled her eyes, “Always have to bring yourself into it, don’t ya?”
Before he had the chance to reply, Tony came running up with another boy in tow. Quickly dropping a few handfuls of flowers at Rose’s knees before steering toward the Doctor. People who appeared to be parents a few yards behind. Rose waved, making sure it was alright as the boys focused on the Doctor.
“This is Dr. Noble! He’s my sister’s boyfriend.”
Rose chuckled at Tony’s explanation of him. But the boy held out his hand to shake in a grand gesture. The Doctor took it with the same enthusiasm.
“And what’s your name?”
“Jackson. I’m Tony’s second best friend.”
The Doctor raised an eyebrow, “Well who’s the first?”
Tony looked shocked, “You are, Silly!”
“Of course I am, Tony.”
Something overtook the playful gleam in his eyes, something softer and touched. Rose noticed that there may have been a tear in his eye. She smiled at the ground, glancing up every so often.
Tony started asking the Doctor to tell his favorite story. The one about what happened at Krop Tor. She listened as closely as the boys, he had never let her hear it in entirety before. Most of it was as it happened, granted, not as grave. There was something he didn’t know, which wasn’t normal. And they got trapped when they went to figure it out. So it goes.
But he changed his tone at the end of it. Lowering his voice when he asked, “Do you want to know the best part?”
To which the boys nodded eagerly.
“Well, I wouldn’t be here to tell you this if it weren’t for someone.” He nodded his head at Rose, “I was just fighting the body. Which is scary but nothing compared to the soul of the Devil.”
“C’mon!!” Tony bounced on his knees.
“She was the one who made the final move. Ready to sacrifice herself and who she loved for the better of the universe,” He started to whisper, “I knew that she was the best. But this is when she became the very best.”
He explained how she shot the window of the rocket. Dramatizing it to make her sound more impressive. Throwing his hands around while talking about the Tardis. Dedicated to giving the happiest ending for the boys.
He did it with a breeze, leaving them whooping and cheering.
They were once again antsy to run around and burn off energy. Rose handed them both a crown, trying to keep Tony’s attention.
“When do you have to be back here, Anthony?”
He scowled at the use of his full name, “Before the sky turns all dark blue.”
“You’re good to go.” Rose laughed.
Tony pulled his friend away. They only managed to get just out of ear’s reach before Jackson came bounding back up.
The Doctor looked up from where he was fiddling with his sonic, “Yes sir?”
“What’s your first name?”
“Doctor,” He grinned mischievously.
“Your last?”
“Noble.” He said it with pride.
Jackson gave him a questioning look but shrugged and ran back to Tony, who was poking at something with a stick.
Rose left the rest of the flowers on the ground and turned her attention to the sunset. Listening to everything going on around them. The phantom breeze in the trees. All the kids calling for each other. Passing conversations.
“What about when we get married?”
It came out of nowhere. She tried not to let her surprise show, “What about it?”
“Our last names.” He looked at her, the wind in his hair reminded her of their time on New Earth, “I quite like Noble and I don’t think you should give up Tyler.”
“What if I want to?” She raised her eyebrows at him.
“Well, I mean-”
“I’m joking, Doctor,” She looked at him, lost in thought, “We could hyphenate them.”
He shook his head in thought, “Hm, but who would go first?”
She shrugged, returning her focus to the sky. Listening as he rolled “Noble-Tyler” and “Tyler-Noble” off his tongue while it turned a brighter and brighter pink.
She swatted at him with the back of her hand when Tony ran back to them. Trying to avoid any conversations that aren't necessary. He asked the Doctor to come play with him because Jackson had to leave. Before he started to drag him away, the Doctor managed to give Rose a peck on the cheek. The six year old was too impatient. Leaving him to yell “I love you!” at her.
Her eye roll was followed with her own shout, “I love you too!”
&&
The Doctor was wearing a tuxedo similar to the one he wore the first time they were here. This time it wasn’t to gain information but to give it. He was to give a lecture on something he figured out in the eight months he’d been here. He argued that it wasn’t that important. That he didn’t need to do it. Pete reminded him that the other scientists working on it eight spent years. Not months.
The Doctor and Donna’s personality had always been intertwined in him. Rose knew it. She first noticed because he was quick to reply to her mum’s quips and actually started to enjoy spending time with her.
He said it was because he’s half the alien he used to be. But both Rose and Jackie beg to differ.
But this was the first time she’s seen the personality merge work against him. He couldn’t just brush off the idea of speaking in front of people who are there to question him. Speculate how he did it. Insecurities bubbled to the surface and crawled into his nerves.
Rose found out through Jake, who had to pull her from talking to people before the seminar. She wasn’t the one resisting. She was tired of questions about this “mystery man” who was “quick to put a ring on her finger.”
Although, the reactions to the fact that she was the one who got down on one knee humored her. But led her to explaining that he got her ring later.
“He’s been pacin’ the room like an animal that hasn’t got enough enrichment.” Jake said while walking Rose to where the Doctor was, “I couldn’t get through to him but we all know you can.”
She entered the room to a speaker being in pieces across the floor. The Doctor sitting in the middle of all the pieces, trying to rig something together. She wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be a DADA sculpture or a new invention. Either way, his new anxieties were making him manic.
“Doctor?”
His head snapped up and he gave her a tense grin, “Rose! I was just thinking of you.”
“I don’t think you stop doing that.”
He shrugged and started sweeping all the pieces into a small pile in front of him.
“Doctor,” Rose said it softer than before, “What’s going on?”
“I’m about to talk to a room full of people and I can’t suppress hormones like I used to be able to.”
He said it with a straight face. Leaving Rose to hold her breath to keep from causing him anymore anxiety. She wasn’t sure if her urge to laugh was caused by the point-blank approach of explanation or the fact that he was clearly lying. She didn’t think on it too much. She tried to think about what her mum said and did all the times she was at a breaking point.
The first thing she noticed was how disheveled he was. Only half dressed, though he’d never admit it. Then it clicked.
“Presentation is the most important thing. That’s what I’ve learned from Pete. So let's tidy you back up.” She held her hand out to lift him back up.
She talked about everything except what his mind was so desperate to be focused on. Coaxing the dopey smile and puppy-dog eyes out of him. In the end, it was more flirting than discussing. But it worked the way she needed to either way.
Rose couldn’t help but notice how he focused on her hands when she buttoned his shirt.
“I’ll unbutton them later if you don’t have a heart attack on stage.” She said with his favorite grin.
She couldn’t help but let it slip. And the mischievous look she got in return was worth it. Now that he was dressed, it was time to move onto his hair. Which would only take so long due to the fact he was overprotective and particular with it. This was where she planned to dig back in.
He gave her a sheepish smile as he sat down in front of the mirror, watching her hands start to tease his hair.
“What had you so worked up earlier?” She asked, watching his eyes dart from her to anywhere else in the mirror.
“I started thinking too much. Or- I focused on one thing and wouldn’t think of anything else.” He looked like a schoolboy. Embarrassed to feel things.
Rose thinks this is the most human moment he’s had yet. His superior biology not quite what it used to be.
“What was it?”
“Well, uh,” She swatted the hand that went for the back of his head as he spoke, “I didn’t want to disappoint Pete. or Jackie. Or you.”
His eyes met with hers in the mirror and she gave him a sweet smile, “My mum and I don’t care. You know that. Pete? He’s got PR on standby if necessary.”
“I know,” The Doctor shrugged, “But you’re the ones who let me get here.”
Jake knocked on the door, “He’s got five minutes!”
His spine went rigid again. Rose ran her hand over it in response. She pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, where no one would notice if a lipstick stain was left.
“Just talk to ‘em like you’d talk to Tony, yeah? Go on your big monologue and worry about what’s going on in their heads later.”
When he stood up she fixed the lock of red in his hair to flow with the rest.
“I love you. You know that?”
“Absolutely.” She straightened his bowtie one last time, “You know, you have nothing to prove to me.”
&&
Rose blew air out like a cigarette, watching a cloud too hazy and heavy form. Those days were long gone. She realized they had gone before she met the Doctor. A long memory now, where she lived in a parallel universe with a new half-human, half-timelord Doctor. She didn’t mind, though. That’s life isn’t it?
It was this line of thought that led her into sleepless nights. Comparing lives. Wondering how her old Doctor was doing. Wondering if her Doctor was really, truly, happy. If they’d ever get back the life that they belong in. All this what-ifs and open-ended question that she’d never get an answer for until the moment came. They ran rampant through her head. Like a skipping record.
Sometimes it was tempting to pick up old habits when she got like this. She knew why she didn’t when the door behind her slid open, revealing a shirtless, groggy Doctor.
“Rose, it’s 3 am.”
“I know,” She turned to face him completely, “I couldn’t sleep.”
He hummed in understanding and sat next to her. Looking up at the sky full of stars he’s yet to map. It made a sharp pang go through her chest. To see him like this. So bare in a universe he was ready to make a mark on. Then Rose noticed the goosebumps rise on his arms with a gust of wind. He’s yet to admit that he’s been cold. Even when it’s written all over his face and hands.
She also noticed the way his eyebrows furrowed. As if he was counting each and every star.
“Why couldn’t you sleep?”
She shrugged, “Thinking ‘bout what you said.”
“We’re at the halfway mark. Now is time for her to grow on her own.”
Rose thought back to the shed on Pete’s estate that they spent every free day they had at for the past month. Which meant one of them pulled the other out of bed. Because they had their very own Tardis growing inside, waiting to learn of new skys.
“But will we make it that long?” She felt the fear bubble over into tears, “It scares me. To not know when. Which is ridiculous but I’ve waited so long and I know you’re just as restless.”
He sat there for a second, gathering the right words.
“Rose, you did the impossible once. All on your own. Yeah, you had Jackie and Clive and Pete, but-”
“Now I have you.”
The words hung heavy in the air. Like it was some confession. Admitting something she always wished for had come true. But it wasn’t made up of the dreams she once had. It was messy and real but even worth more than what once was the only thing that let her sleep at night.
“I told you a year ago, it’s gonna be us. I could care less about what else there is.”
Maybe that was the catharsis. The unholy amounts of emotion came pouring out of her. She fell into his arms as she broke into tears.
She had no clue where it came from. Maybe it was stress from work. The clutter starting to build in their tiny flat. Or knowing they were so close. Her heart begging to be reminded of what showed her love in the first place.
“Rose, you golden girl. You did it. You got back to me- or well, I came back with you. Besides the point. You’ve done it once. What’s a second time with the impossible holding your hand?”
He rocked her slightly as she started to calm down. Brushing her hair out of her face and wiping her tears. Pressing kisses against her forehead. Mumbling things she normally didn’t hear.
He pulled her back with a wide grin, “Hey, we still have to get married before leaving. I don’t want another slap from your mother.”
“I think we should do it Vegas style.” it came out as a snotty laugh. And in the back of her mind she wondered if he ever saw her like this before now.
“I don’t care as long as it’s you.” He smiled, “You said it a while ago, ‘Better with two.’”
She giggled, rubbing her eyes one last time, “The stuff of legends, us.”
“Especially in a few months' time.” He said, looking back up at the sky.
“We’re gonna be alright,” Rose pulled him into a tight embrace, “We’re okay.”
#timepetals#tenrose#tentoo x rose#rose tyler#ten x rose#.txt#tenth doctor#tenth doctor x rose tyler#doctor who#dw#dw fanfic#tentoo#metacrisis doctor#vincent writes
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Stalling Expulsion
Hey, gems! This is my day 13 of @hamiltonholidaycalendar ! I’m super excited and really proud of this. Sorry if the endings a bit rushed, I ran out of time,,,
Rated: Teen Audiences
TW: Mentions of violence, drugs, death
-
Whistled tones whipped down the halls of the large country boarding school, as wind teased the maroon common room curtains through extravagant glass windows. Crumpled currant toned bed drapes lined the circular boys dormitory, and the posts hung bed curtains which were open and crinkled. Clothes lay strewn across the old hickory wood floors, a mix of old socks, pyjama pants and unwanted shoes. The whole school had gathered in the great hall for breakfast, all but four. They were huddled in the dormitory bathroom, slinking around waiting for first class.
The eldest being sixteen years old, tall and broad, yet far from the most responsible. The youngest was a lanky French boy, who had recently become fifteen. The other two were also fifteen, but one not far off his sweetest sixteen. None of which were very responsible when it came to fun. Smarts, well, you may suppose they contained some sort of brain-cell. Although it appeared to bounce around their head like a DVD screensaver. You may even conclude, that the four shared a brain-cell, taking single turns on it like small children sharing a piano.
The oldest of them all was the one whistling, he was tweeting a soft tune, one that seems to be without meaning or purpose, but instead one you may subconsciously commit yourself to when bored.
Smallest of them, a boy who had his fifteenth a simple month before, tightened his ponytail and swiped a sniffle from his nose. Perhaps skipping breakfast in favour of hanging around like a gang of uneducated delinquents wasn't their best plan, but at the very least they had learned not to do it again. Not that he ever planned to admit his wrong doing.
One boy, who bore a curled ponytail that hung low, sat on a sink, his back against the wall and his feet in the porcelain bowl of it. He piped up with a skip in his voice, "why did we skip morning meal again?" He inquired in his distinct North-Carolinian accent, as his stomach growled angrily at him. He was missing out on his wake up food of three slices of buttered toast and a pile of breakfast potatoes and his body was not overjoyed.
"Because we don't want to be around Jefferson, Jackie," the smallest replied, sinking down. Jackie was not the boys birth name, but instead a curious nickname gifted to him by his closest of friends. The boy who has spoken had his back pressed against the wall, and he crossed his legs as he sat.
"You know," the French boy started, "I don't really see the problem you all 'ave with Thomas," he shrugged and continued leaning against a stall.
The whistling abruptly came to a close, and all heads turned to look at him. "Dude, he's horrible," the eldest started, "like, do you see the way he acts around Alex? He treats him like some sort of dirty scum he found on the bottom of his polished boots."
"The reason he hates me is even worse! Just because I don't have rich parents to go crawling back to for Christmas. He acts like I'm a dirty spot that he doesn't want to touch. Like... Like I'm food at the bottom of the sink, ya know!" Alexander explained, gesticulating as he did so. John, the student who had been nicknamed 'Jackie', leapt from his resting place in the washing basin and patted Alexander on the back gently in a friendly attempt to calm him down. "Sorry for yelling, Laf... It's just... He bugs me so much."
Lafayette shrugged his shoulders, his wine red blazer - part of his uniform forming creases as he did. "I mean, he's targeting you because you're an orphan, non?" Alexander nodded as a silent agreement and response, "well, 'e doesn't know that I am too."
"I completely forgot about that, Laf!" The broad-shouldered, tall boy examined a little too loudly. He found himself being bombarded by rushed hushing. "Sorry, guys," he rubbed the back of his neck bashfully.
Lafayette rolled his eyes. "Stop apologising, 'Ercules, we know you mean no 'arm," he assured and patted Hercules' shoulder.
"If I meant no harm, then why am I here?" Hercules sighed and shrunk into himself. The other three went quiet, they couldn't answer.
The boarding school was technically called, 'Fredrick's School for Troubled Teens and Youngsters,' but everyone just called it, 'School for Annoying Pricks and Rich Dicks.'
Everyone who attended had been removed from public school for one preposterous thing or another. An assortment, ranging from fights to skipping school to just becoming a general nuisance.
Hercules Mulligan had been previously expelled from three schools, for fighting three people and hospitalising two of them. His reputation was ruthless and cutthroat, not afraid to start an attack at any moment. However, he was simply a big softy.
Alexander Hamilton had been ostracised from his school for arguing with the professor, who promptly frog-marched him to the head master, to whom he fought against once more. He was told to leave and not come back after referring to his head master as, "a pompous fool, detecting the frivolous minds of easy moldable youngsters to bend them to his will."
John Laurens was excommunicated from Church, and from his very Catholic school when they discovered his homosexuality. His father had disowned him from home and sent him off to the 'School for Annoying Pricks and Rich Dicks,' in the hopes that it would, "return him to his Godly roots and strip him of his male desires for other men." His father, Henry Laurens had accepted the concept that sending him to a school where he would spend 99% of his time with guys and had imagined that it would 'fix' his brain into lusting over women.
And then there was Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Mortier, Marquis de Lafayette. His exclusion was a momentous occasion. His head mistress had discovered the acute, shimmering pocket knife in his satchel, after demanding a look as another child had accused him of threatening him with said weapon. The child had ridiculed his younger brother who had sadly passed away just mere weeks before. So yes, maybe he should've been thrown out of school for that. He goes back and forth, contemplating if what he did was incredibly illegal or, in fact, the right thing to do.
The four knew fine well why the other people were tossed from school, however, no one else knew anything about no one. Asking why another person was attending the boarding fortress was distinctly taboo. Like a horrid, violent invasion of protected privacy. Only if the student felt astonishingly close to you, and trusted you with their life and prized possession would they ever confine in you the reason they attended Fredrick's.
Another point, everyone came from privileged backgrounds, that were somehow ruined. Lafayette had rich parents before they died, and then he had a rich uncle. Then he was rich. John’s parents had piles of money, and then they disowned him. Alexander was fairly middle class, and then their debt skyrocketed when his father abandoned him and his mother passed in his arms. And then there was Hercules. The other three spoke much more articulated than him. He just simply couldn’t. He wasn’t from a bad family, but they most certainly weren’t the most educated they could be.
"Listen, Herc," Alexander inexorably spoke up, offering comfort, "we're all here for one reason or another! I called my professor a sithering idiot, and them the head master a pompous fool, John's gay and Laf, hell, Lafayette threatened someone's life. Lets be honest, we all deserve to be here," he peered up at Laurens, who had retaken his position of roosting on the sink, "apart from Jackie, obviously."
John defended himself and chortled. "Hey, I'm not complaining. Before I had to listen to homophobic slurs all day, now, I can simply be a homo every hour."
Hercules' solid frown tweaked, and he turned to laughter. "Okay, okay, fair enough," He lifted his arms up before slumping them down, "you got me."
"Yeah we did," Lafayette nudged Hercules harshly, which earned him a shove back.
-
His toast lay burnt and uneaten, and half a sausage rolled around his plate depressingly. A metal fork was lazily tossed by his tray, and the red paper napkin was scrunched up on his plate. His seat was barren now, as was the one across from him.
Reticent nattering echoed all over the spiral staircase as two boys clambered upwards towards their shared dorm. Their room was home to eight boys, all of which they both hated, except for each other and one pupil, a young male Aaron Burr from New Jersey and Thomas supposed that Lafayette wasn’t too awful.
Thomas pushed the oak dormitory door open with a dig. He went on speaking, but was silenced by his friend flapping his hand in front of his face. "James-"
"Shush! Can't you hear that?" James spoke, "there's people here..."
Muffled exclamations voiced themselves from behind the bathroom gateway. Thomas crept over and pressed his ear up to the carved antique door as every ounce of his sixteen year old attention span focusesd in on eavesdropping.
There was a blast of flat laughter that exploded from the room, and he furrowed his eyebrows. “What are they saying?” James breathed serenely as he watched Thomas run his fingers over the door handle.
“Quiet, Jemmy,” Thomas instructed in a low voice, “they’re talking now.”
A despicably mocking articulation voiced itself from beyond the door. “Oh yes, I mustn’t! For I shall mess us my sheep’s wool hair! No! Do not touch that! It was sent to me from a Gucci store from my father!” It was in a false Southern accent.
“Holy crap, Laf! I don’t like how much that sounds like him!” The familiar boisterous tones of Hercules Mulligan exploded out the cracks in the door. “Okay, okay, John your shot.”
He heard the rambunctious crackling of knuckles, and a clearing of throats. “Hello, y’all! Rootin’ tootin’! I’m from the fucking South where the grass grows green and I’m better than y’all! Because I’m Jefferson, and I hate you if you don’t have a rich father!”
James, who had been tuned in to the harmful conversations past the door, soared upwards towards him. “Tommy, don’t-“ he muttered harshly. James had been friends with Thomas since the very beginning, he had been there to witness every hardship and every tantalising moment where the world stopped spinning. He was by the teens side throughout each adversity, and would comfort his best friend without exception.
Yet Thomas didn’t listen. He shoved the door open unceremoniously, the sheer force blowing a gust towards the bed drapes. His stance remained strong and rigid as four pairs of brown and hazel sprinkled eyes darted towards him. With the pupils that burned into his skull, from both in front of him, and James who had settled behind him, Thomas composed himself. He ran a hand through his hair before taking it upon himself to stride back to his bed.
His lips remained stuck together as if to be two birds of a single feather. Alexander looks at his friends, and they rise from their resting places, stiff joints cracking like grandmas getting up from their nap in an armchair. Their stomachs rumble hungrily, screaming for nutrients, but they push past it to ignore it. James looks back at his accomplice, who is rummaging through a antiquated, walnut duffle-bag. He can see Thomas’ look of determination as he pulls his hand from the storage unit and wanders back to the bathroom, past the gang who was previously been loitering in the room. In his hand, is a egg-shell painted cardboard packet of sorts, and a rectangular glass lighter. The lighter is black as a cold winters night, and Thomas carries these into the bathroom with him.
“Thomas!” James exclaimed as he spotted the two items. One of the many reasons Thomas was at the boarding school. The bathroom door slammed closed and the all too familiar sound of a clicking lighter.
The four friends glance at each other, sharing a mutual moment of what the hell is happening, as James pounds on the oak door. “Thomas, I swear to god, open the door. I won’t let you do this again!”
“What’s going on?” Alexander hissed from the corner of his mouth. His dashing attempt to be inaudibly failed, as a result of his naturally vociferous voice it failed. Madison’s head rotated to face the not-so-fantastic four with a choleric grimace.
Lafayette opened his mouth to begin explaining, yet no words escaped. Only a brief swept of breath as he fidgeted with his own fingers, bending them in ways that really shouldn’t be possible.
“Why were you talking about him?” James spoke softly, as if the delinquents were toddlers who needed to be lulled off into slumber.
Alexander shifted on his heels. Why this small student was so intimidating fascinated him. James was always a perpetually timid youngster. Someone who sat at the very back of the class, head constantly bent down over his work, hunched and tired. Yet now, his eyes glimmered with rage and every inch of his body shook with unsheathed emotional torment.
“We-“ Alexander started with confidence, but trailed off quickly into inaudible - protecting himself - mumbling.
James rattles his knuckles off the door again. "I won't let you get expelled from another school!" He exhaled and fiddled with the handle. "Just, open the door... We can talk about this." He grovelled desperately. The door handle moved, and Thomas deliberated from behind the gateway. As the wood cracked open, James spread into a grin.
Thomas exhaled smoke downwards, blowing it down to the very depths of hell. "What?"
"You're smoking," John observed with a light shudder. He planted himself on Alexanders bed, tugging at the wrinkled sheets and grasping for the cream pillow, for the scarlet cover of the cushion had been stripped from it, and thrown somewhere across the room, it had been missing for days. Alex theorised that Thomas had disposed of it out the window, or in a garbage can in the main courtyard. Either way, Alexander and the students residing within that dormitory were lucky that a staff member hadn't inspected their room just yet. If it was found that articles of bedding had been cascaded like dirty wash paper then a worthy punishment would be awarded.
“Am I?!” Thomas took the lot cigarette away from his lips and glared at it. His eyes narrowed, “am I really!?”
“Yo, there’s no need to talk to him like that!” Hercules piped up with a stare. “He didn’t do nothin’ to you,” he spat.
Thomas rolled his eyes and took another quick puff of the cigarette before disposing of it in a sink, and running the cold water tap. “Yeah, he said nothing sure.
“Stop,” Alexander insisted, beginning to rise. He observes as Thomas struts into the dorm and throws his cigarettes packet and lighter onto his bed, before dropping down on James'.
Lafayette hastily crept over to beside Thomas and sighed. "My apologies, Thomas," he confessed, "it was wrong of us to... Eh.... Talk bad about you." He stumbled over his words, a bit like a newborn calf taking its first wobbly steps.
"I'm like, 99.99% sure smoking really breaks school guidelines," Hercules chimed in, twittering away in the congregated background.
"Yeah? Why else do you think I'm here? Because I want to be?" Thomas jeered, messing with his hair absentmindedly.
"Well, because your family bathes in pots of melted gold and dines on silver platters served by their monkey butler," Alexander prompted immediately, the words sliding off his tongue like venom before he could halt them.
Thomas and James scoffed in unison. "I'm here because I was expelled for drug use," the jaws fell to the old floors, "weed, mostly. Over the counter painkillers and anti depressants. That sort of stuff, ya know?" He shrugged, so nonchalantly.
“Drugs?!” John exclaimed in utter shock. “How did you even get a hold of them?!”
“Well,” Thomas gridlocked in his tracks, hitting the breaks on his brain, “why am I telling you this?” He sneered at himself, fanning his face in his own stupidity.
“Because... you want someone else to trust?” James mumbled, “other than me...”
Thomas’ face fell and he grit his teeth in annoyance as he came to terms with James’ unsettling words. He ran a tattered hand through his mop of sheep's wool. He remained mute and simply made a random hand gesture.
“James,” Hercules breathed and was quiet for one of the first time ever. Or ever since the others had met him, “why’d you get sent here? What’s the deal?” They all gasped, the taboo had been broken, and Hercules graced his eyes around the room, his pupils widening with terror. “Wait, no! I didn’t- it’s... it’s just, you don’t seem like the person to be sent to Annoying Pricks and Rich Dicks school.”
Madison blinked rapidly in thought. “No, no, it’s fine...” he took a large inhale, “I was bullied a lot... and one day I just... flipped. I attacked them when they followed me to class through the halls. The kid got away with a slap on the wrist and I was expelled. Then sent here...”
“Yeah, just after I was expelled, James came after me. Missed me that much?” Thomas chortled, stretching his arms and for just a moment, his arms and head placement made him look vaguely like a cactus in the dry Arizona sun.
“Not really, class was much quieter. I did lose my only protection though, because someone decided to get high on marijuana in the boys bathroom!” James really emphasised each syllable of the word, ‘someone.’
Thomas frowned lamentably. His sighs echoed around the room. “In fairness!” He stopped, “I actually can’t justify it. I was just being stupid and impulsive okay?”
Alexander cackled away loudly in the back before taking enough initiative to muffle it with his hand.
“Oh you can’t laugh, ‘amilton! You swore your professor out!” Lafayette teased with a snicker and Hercules let out a soft, ‘ohhh!’ punctuating Lafayette’s words.
“Yeah? And you whipped a knife on someone!” Alexander yelled back playfully. Hercules continued to laugh.
“Oh, shut up, ‘Erc! You can’t say anything! Two people in ‘ospital who?” Lafayette jerked, progressively getting himself more and more worked up. His cheeks were glowing a lipstick red and his eyes darkened with fury.
“‘Two people in hospital, who?’” Hercules mocked in a false French accent. It was awfully stereotypical, and fake as hell. But it annoyed Lafayette to the point where he leapt from his bed and pointed pressingly in his best friends direction.
“Lay off!” John jumped up and separated the two with his arms. “Okay! We all did things wrong, like... I disappointed god!” John beamed with a singsong voice, pleading to cheer those up.
“Disappointed god?” Thomas questioned pressingly, his voice ripe with curiosity.
“I was kicked from Catholic school for my ‘deadly homosexuality that could infect others’.” John chortled and moved away from Lafayette and Hercules, adjusting to the fact that the tension in the room was still thick enough to be sliced with a knife.
“Oh damn,” James whispered mistily to himself, scratching at a scab in his forehead, located just about his right ear.
Alexander rolled his eyes. “Oh no! I’ve been infected by the gay!” He yelled and Thomas exploded with laughter. It made Alex smile, and realise that Thomas, in fact, had a nice, boisterous chuckle.
“You can’t pray away the gay,” Hercules spoke in his often loud voice, smirking for the world to see once more.
“We can sure as hell try!” Lafayette knelt on his bed and placed his hands in a prayer motion. “Be gone, homo!”
John fell backwards dramatically and flopped to the floor. His hand touched his forehead as if fainted.
Alex snorted.
The dormitory door clanged with the pound of a fist. “Get to class, boys!” The familiar booming and authoritative tone of Head Master Washington exploded into the dorm.
“Sorry, Mr Washington!” Alexander apologises with a grit of his teeth.
“Suck up,” Thomas mouths and stands, leaving with James hot on his polished heels.
Lafayette stood and nodded towards the ajar door. “Wanna go hang in the courtyard?”
“And risk getting detention?” Hercules scoffed, “obviously.”
“Let’s fucking go!” John exclaimed, picking up his boots and shoving them on his feet.
From the slightly open door they could hear a yell. “Thomas, I swear to god!” And then the muffled reply, ‘what? She despises both of us, let’s just hang out in the courtyard!’
“Sounds like someone else is thinking about skiving class!” Lafayette sniggered, hoisting the door wide open and heading out. “Coming?” Hercules nodded and rushed after him.
Alexander stuck his fist in the air and clapped. “Anything to skip Mrs Reynolds class!”And they ran down the stairs, leaping down the stairs two or three at a time. It was dangerous.
And they loved it.
#hamilton#hamilton: an american musical#alexander#alexander hamilton#lafayette#marie joseph paul yves roch gilbert du mortier#john#laurens#john laurens#hercules#mulligan#hercules mulligan#thomas#jefferson#thomas jefferson#james#madison#james madison#ee writes#ee’s writing#hamilton fic#hamilton fanfic#hamilton fanfiction#hamilton oneshot#hamilton fluff#hamilton angst#tw drugs#death mention#mild violence#no ships
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Jackieboy Man Origins: Chain Letter
Another Origin story, I did one for Silver a while back and I wanted to do one for Jackie.
Summary: For an Irish web developer, it’s been a long night. A long night that turns into a strange morning when he wakes up in the hospital and no memory of how he got there.
~::~ 25 Years Ago ~::~
As a young man was dragging himself and his friend back from a haunted, twisted mansion in a half-dead hypnotic stupor, an Irishman was sitting at his computer in the dark early morning. Unseen to him, something in the wires of his computer were waiting, watching him for the slightest mental distraction, a fatigue to help it.
For the man at the computer, it was late. Later than Sean usually liked to be up. Especially in the cabin he lived in with its thin walls and out in the middle of absolutely nowhere, Ireland.
At the moment he was getting a call from his old friend, Chase. Both of them worked as coders and web designers for the same company.
“Look, it’s not that I don’t believe ye,” Sean told him. “It’s just that yer full of shite.”
“Hey, I did what I could, an’ it’s not workin’,” Chase answered, contacting him over the phone.
Sean audibly groaned, “Fine, send it. If it’s because yer wife downloaded another virus again, I will personally come over to Brighton and kill ye and yer computer.”
“If yer gonna buy me a new computer, then bring it,” Chase dared.
Sean groaned, “I’ll tell you when I’m done with it. Prolly gonna be done later in the week. I’m tired as shit.”
With a goodbye and a couple barbed insults, Sean hung up. He was about to shut down his computer and go to bed. Closing up programs until the email from Chase came in.
“Come on,” the Irish man groaned, and against his better judgement opened up Chase’s email and started reading through some of Chase’s notes.
Two paragraphs in though his eyes started to get itchy, and his throat began to feel dry.
“I’m tired,” Sean muttered, not meaning to say it out loud.
“I’m tired.”
Sean looked around, trying to find the voice.
“Tired”
The Irishman was looking around for his glasses, his eyes tired and having problems focusing. It made it look like the whole monitor was going fuzzy with static.
“Tried”
“Ugh,” Sean groaned, scratching at his own throat. “Arrrghhh!”
“Aren’t you just sooooooo tired?”
Sean stared at the screen, hazy with static and it seemed to be reflecting his smiling face back at him.
“Ch—” Sean scrambled for the phone. Something was wrong, as if thousands of strings were being tethered to every muscle in his body. “Chase—”
The Irishman’s head hit his desk and then . . . like a stiff marionette puppet being suspended by strings . . . he got back up again.
The next thing Sean became aware of was lying down on a slightly cold surface, with a beeping noise echoing off the walls.
“Ugh,” Sean coughed out, more and more of his body aching by the second. “Am I dead?”
“No, but you’ll wish you were when the guards get back in here.”
Sean startled and saw another of his friends sitting in the chair next to him was one of his friends, and his roommate, Marvin. “Marv, the fook happened to your face.”
Scored down Marvin’s face were long claw marks, stitched to hold the wound closed. Marvin glared at him, looking like he was about to punch him in the face.
“Yah get inta a fight with a cat or somethin’,” Sean tried to joke.
Marvin leaned over him, glaring murderously at the other Irishman, pointing to his own face. “You did this to me?”
“What?” Sean tried to sit up, but found out that he had both hands closely handcuffed to his hospital bed.
“Yah scratched up my like a fookin’ demon cat,” Marvin spat at him. “Ye almost tore yer own throat out, an’ then ye tried to take my eyes out.”
“I didn’t,” Sean tried to defend, but a sinking pit formed in his stomach. As if his body knew what he’d been up to last night, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember a single thing that had happened. The web designer was pretty sure he’d fallen asleep at his desk while working. “I wouldn’t—”
Suddenly, Sean felt like a lump was forming in his throat, and it itched. The urge to reach up and scratch the skin of his throat was eating at him. His brain spiraled into a panic attack, and it felt like his body was physically spinning out of control.
It took Marvin, two nurses, and a doctor to calm Sean down again. Now with Sean knocked out, Marvin was left to think. He’d known Sean for a long time, and the last thing he expected the other man to be, was violent. Marvin was pretty sure Sean didn’t actually have a violent bone in his body. He could get loud and belligerent, but never violent.
But thing Marvin had stumbled upon while entering the cabin, that wasn’t Sean. It had taken everything Marvin had to convince everyone that Sean wouldn’t have purposefully tried to burn the cabin down, or attacked Marvin or the officers. Which got harder when his blood work came back clean as a whistle.
But everyone was letting Sean rest. Sean was still sleeping while Marvin had to think. Yeah, he’d talked Sean out of getting thrown in a cell for arson and attempted murder. But that wouldn’t stop it from happening again.
Desperate for anything to help, Marvin ran out to a store he typically got his candles and magic supplies.
“Hey, Marv,” the girl behind the counter smiled at him, using his stage name since he could count on one hand the people he told his actual name to.
“Hey, Clara, ye still got those weird doll parts?” Marvin was already running towards the back of the shop.
She just stared at him, “Yeah, why? You inta puppets now or somethin?”
Then she got a good look at the scratches on his face, “What the hell, man, what happened ta yer face?”
“If I told you you’d stop me,” he told her, and handed her the money to walk out with his kit.
“Be careful,” she warned him.
“Will do,” he promised, and then rushed back to the hospital, smuggling in his kit back into Sean’s room.
“Okay,” he took a steadying breath, over Sean’s still unconscious body. “This is such a bad idea, but yah can thank me after it works.”
Then Marvin began working, trying to make the doll look as close to what he saw in the cabin. The dark, glowing green eyes, the slit throat, the wraith-like form. Once he was done with the life-sized model, he waited for the nurses to make their rounds and check on Sean. Marvin smiling, having the doll hidden from them in the bathroom. Cause a life-sized model of a guy was a sure fire way to get him supervised in the room at least.
Then Marvin waited for them to leave before setting up the room for his Plan A: exorcise his friend and roommate. If he needed a Plan B, Marvin would burn that bridge when he crossed it.
“Hey, Jackaboy,” Marvin tried to smile. “You awake?”
No answer.
Marvin frowned, then he took out a spellbook, “Good.”
He uttered a quick summoning spell, standing outside the containment spell he’d drawn on the floor. Sean began to convulse and scream, his skin literally buzzing.
Sean’s screams were so loud, the door flew open as a passing nurse came in, “What the fook?”
Then a force of pure static electricity shot out of Sean, as a creature that looked almost exactly like the Irishman still passed out on the hospital bed, except for the gash on his throat. The being of malic and chaos just floated in the air above Sean’s bed.
“Well, well, looks like I found myself a street magician too big fer his own britches,” the creature cackled. The nurse was still at the door, staring at the creature in horror. It smiled back at her.
“Hey, you almost got my friend arrested,” Marvin tried not to show any fear.
“Still got time fer that,” it dismissed.
“Here’s the deal, ye go into this image I made, and I don’t destroy you,” Marvin threatened.
The doppelgänger just cackled, sounding like Sean just with a crackling, static-like tone to it. “An what? Let yah rip me apart, I don’t think so Two-Bit Copperfield.”
“Yer going to do it, or I’ll make yah,” Marvin threatened.
It just laughed again, the very air charging with static electricity, and the creature lightly touched down on the floor, looking at the symbols and lines that were keeping him in. “Yah pay for those magic tricks?”
“None of your business,” Marvin finally started actually getting brave.
It took one of its feet and stubbed out one of the lines, blowing back the power onto Marvin, who flew into the wall.
“Cause, ye got yerself ripped off,” it cackled and moved closer to stand over Marvin’s pain wracked body, the magician slumped against the wall as muscles in his body shook and trembled with electricity.
“When you want ta learn some real tricks, call me,” the thing took its claws and scored a name into Marvin’s arm: ANTI. Marvin screamed in pain and watched the cop that had been taking questions early bust in.
Anti looked back at him, standing up and walking back over to Sean’s bed. Marvin heard Sean make a confused groan. “Well, this place has gotten a bit stale. I’ll be seeing you around Copperfield.”
Marvin tried to pull himself back up, his arm burning. “Wait,” he growled.
“Hey, get away from them,” the officer barked, rushing for Anti.
“No, I don’t think so,” Anti grinned, his head almost glitching. “So, buddy, yah got a gun or a TASER? Cause I’m itching to have some fun.”
There was a loud grunt, and everyone, even Anti, looked over to see Jack struggling weekly against the cuffs tethering him to the hospital bed.
In the distraction, the officer grabbed onto Anti, trying to wrestle him onto the ground, and got jolted with visible electricity for his troubles. The officer dropped and convulsed on the ground, screaming in pain. The nurse closest to the door rushed to him.
“Aww, what’s wrong?” Anti smiled at Sean as he walked over to him.
“No,” Marvin panicked, trying to weakly scramble with his good arm for anything to make Anti go away.
“I’ll be with you in a second, Copperfield,” Anti summoned a dagger from almost a violent tear in reality itself and threw it. It perfectly nailed Marvin’s other shoulder. Effectively disabling him. Marvin screamed.
Another dagger got the mannequin Marvin had made, electricity catching it on fire. “And there we go,” Anti’s smile got wider, “get rid of that eyesore.”
With another step, Anti was leaning over Sean, barely out of reach as Sean. “Hello, well, it has been fun, but I’m tired of you. So, let’s have a little fun with you and your friends before I go.”
“Get away from them,” Sean threatened.
“Oh? Puny little human,” Anti cackled, grabbing the Irishman still cuffed to the hospital bed and started to jolt him. As the glitch demon shocked and coursed electricity through him, his whole body glitched the very air around him. “What ye gonna do about it?”
Sean screamed and sudden his whole body seemed to move, as if every part of his body was just vibrating and shaking, rattled by the electricity.
Three things happened almost at the same time, and to Marvin’s perspective they did. Time seemed to slow down as Anti reached for his throat. Sean gave a final tug and the cuffs came free. As quick as he could, Sean hit Anti in the face, what felt like electricity coming off his entire arm, but he didn’t see anything.
The glitch demon recoiled back, mostly in shock, holding the side of his face and just staring at the Irishman who was struggling to get out of the hospital bed and to get in front of Marvin. Adrenaline was coursing through his body, keeping him upright.
“Yer goin’ ta regret that,” Anti warned.
“Get away from him,” Sean told him. “Yer not gonna hurt him again.”
Anti cackled, his body glitching, “What are yeh goin’ ta do? Bleed on me?”
Sean took a nervous step back, almost stepping on Marvin’s leg, Marvin was able to pick himself up enough to lean against Sean’s legs, placing a hand on the back of his leg, and starting to draw something, his hand shaking as he screamed out in pain.
“When I kill you, I’ll enjoy it,” Anti promised.
“If I hit yah once, I can hit ye again,” Sean threatened, just hoping that his body wasn’t nearly as hurt as he thought it was. The police officer seemed to finally be getting up, coughing and holding his arm. Sean hoped it might help get Anti under control, even if he didn’t think whatever Anti was could even be arrested.
Anti just walked over, “I will enjoy tearing you apart.”
Sean winded back for another punch, but when he tried to hit Anti, the glitch just stepped to the side. Giving Sean an amused, chortle.
“Little fly,” Anti chuckled, the glitch demon’s eyes glowing, the iris of his mostly black eyes green. “Somethin’s never change.”
Then, Anti scratched Sean across the chest, making him stumble back as Anti floated above him and gave him a smug look. Sean already felt drained, a mix of the painkillers, his throat, and the fact that he’s been mentally out of it for hours. But his body also felt absolutely wired with adrenaline.
He lifted his arms but Anti froze, jolted by something. His eyes almost crackling with static. “You!” he snarled at Marvin. “What’d yah do ta me?”
Marvin let out a chuckle. “Plan B, thanks fer jumping outta my friend.”
With a harsh scream, Anti began to glitch and distort, screaming as he was trying to reach out for Jackie but burst into static and seeming disappeared.
“Is he dead?” Sean gasped.
“Prolly not,” Marvin coughed. “Should leave us alone fer a while, though,” Marvin slumped over onto the ground. Sean just sat down as two nurses raised over to them.
“Well kid, yah off the hook,” the officer said. “I don’t think the boys are gunna take ghosts as an excuse. Sorry I couldn’ta been ‘a useful back there.”
“No prob,” Sean told him. “I’m tired, can I got ta bed?”
“Try to stay with me a bit longer,” the nurse told him, checking his eyes and all the deep scratches on him. The nurse that had been treating the police officer was now treating Marvin, calling on the radio for back up. Sean’s tied mind losing the voice in all the medical jargon.
“What’dya do back there?” The officer asked. “I lost sight of yah and suddenly yah were in front’a yer friend.”
“I just hit him, think it surprised him,” Sean admitted. “Marv’s got a spellbook or whatever the hell he calls it.”
Looking over, Sean saw the cheap journal Marvin used to store and record his “notes” lying all the way across the room. “Give me a sec,” Sean said. “Maybe Marve took some notes on the bastard.”
“Wait, you shouldn’t,” the nurse began but Sean was already up.
He took a couple steps and faster than his brain could process it, Sean had slammed into the opposite wall, knocking him flat on his back. At the sudden loss of air in his lungs, Sean began coughing, trying to roll over but found that the adrenaline in his body was already starting to drain out. “Ugh,” Sean groaned in pain.
The room went dead silent.
Then, the nurse swore. “Did you just?”
“Ugh, everything hurts,” Sean complained, and then passed out.
Next thing Sean process was that he was in a new room, about three doctors in the room and sensors monitoring his pain. But at least, he had enough painkiller not to feel how absolutely destroyed his body probably was.
“Hey, jackaboy,” Marvin greeted, he was sitting next to him, his shoulder and arms bandaged up. “So, quick question, yah have any secret identities I should know about?”
“No, why?” Sean asked, already feeling pretty loopy.
“Good, cause I’m pretty sure some suits have been in here, and they walked away with a lot of yer blood,” Marvin told him. “Mine too.”
“Pretty sure, they can’t do that,” Sean reminded.
“Well they just did,” Marvin told him, “I tried to fight them, but they were about to arrest me if I didn’t comply.”
“Fer what? Doin’ magic without a license?” Sean tried to joke.
“No, cause you went 0 to 15 with just yer feet, before colliding with a wall and took a chunk outta the plaster,” Marvin told him.
“Huh, yah’d think I’d remember that,” Sean thought out loud. “But hey, if I did, I can maybe become a superhero or somthin’. Wouldn’t that be funny?”
“He awake?” a woman’s voice got Sean’s attention.
“An’ drugged ta hell,” Marvin warned.
“Then this won’t take long,” she said and walked over to where Sean could actually see her.
“Hey,” Sean smiled.
“You’re Sean McLoughlin, from Althone, Ireland?” she looked at him, studying him up and down.
“Yeah?” Sean answered. “Who’s askin’? Is this about the wall I broke?”
“We’re more concerned with how the wall broke, than who broke it,” she corrected.
“Shit,” Sean shrugged, immediately regretting it because of how sore he still was, even with the painkillers. “Ow. Why did I do that?”
“Are you still hurt?” she asked.
“Nah, it’s just sore,” Sean correct. “What were we talking about?”
The woman didn’t seem to even be frustrated. “Do you know what happened, Mr. McLoughlin?”
“Nah,” Sean dismissed. “I think there was some glitchy reject video game character, an’ now everythin’ should hurt, but doesn’t cause’a these awesome drugs.”
She looked at Marvin, but Marvin shrugged, “Hey, guy’s as high as a kite, what do ye want from me?”
“Mr. McLoughlin, my name is Agent Laine,” she told him.
“Kay,” Sean smiled.
“We’ll let you get back to sleep,” Sara told him. “I’ll be back.”
“Hopefully with an actually reason to take our blood,” Marvin reminded.
“Only if we find anything out of the ordinary,” she said and left.
“Finally,” Marvin growled.
“She doesn’t seem nice,” Sean commented.
“Alright, you might not remember this, but last night you moved fast, like superhuman fast, and I did actual magic. It was amazing.” Marvin smiled. “Unfortunately the suits figured out.”
Sean just laughed, “Yeah right, an’ I’m a superhero.”
Marvin shrugged, “Sleep it off, I’ll try and keep the suits from locking you in a padded cell.”
“Yer the best, Marv,” Sean told him, and they just kept talking, more joking than anything else until Sean got tired again.
In five days Sean would run through town in a colorful, oversized hoodie and an old Halloween mask he’d find in Marvin’s box of things. In five days, Sean would race around the city, testing out his newfound super speed.
But today there were just two friends in an isolated room, talking and laughing. Both of them enjoying the little bit of peace they had while it lasted.
#Superhero AU#Masks and Maladies#Egoton Origins#Jacksepticeye#Jackieboy Man#Chase Brody#Marvin the Magnificent#Antisepticeye#Possession#accidentally getting superpowers from a glitch demon#pre-divorce Chase
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Kill ‘Em With Kindness - PART SIXTEEN
Bucky Barnes x Reader
You had been detected. You were now on their radar. You’re recruited for one mission only. You are trained and put to the test. With your background, everyone realizes it was a mistake recruiting a college student who would soon be faced with the one thing that drove her to kill in the first place.
Warnings: mentions of violence; mentions of character death; swearing; mentions of blood; GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF INJURIES
Word Count: 3,741
“You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen... I want to ruin you.”
“You’re too late.”
A/N: Almost finished with this series, guys! Just three more parts!
PART SIXTEEN
“What did you do?” you yelled, struggling to stand on your shaking feet. Once you lifted yourself, you clutched at your stomach. The two stabs wounds were deep and there was no way Tony was going to be able to get this much blood out in a single wash.
Peter stood still, his face still emotionless. It wasn’t until his shaking hands progressed into complete spasms that he dropped the gun and brought his hands to his equally trembling mouth. Bucky rushed to the boy before his knees could slam onto the floor, holding him up. He searched through Peter’s suit quickly, pushing Peter’s resistant arms away every once in a while. Bucky pressed any button that stood out so it would alert Tony of their location and of the panic Peter was experiencing. All Bucky could do now was hold the young boy as his wails grew unbearable.
You dropped to your knees also, the stabs wounds becoming too painful. You simply stared at the two men in front of you, one in complete shock and the other in denial. There was no way to separate the two into those categories- there was only the statement itself.
The room was spinning as you looked at them but you crawled to your sister. You patted her and swallowed deeply, checking her pulse and pulling her into a sitting position. You hugged her to your body, one of your hands attempting to stop the blood rushing from you and your other hand covering Lucy’s head. You didn’t dare look at your hand after you felt the wound cave deeper and brain matter spilled out. Jackie, they could call you, while you struggled to keep Lucy’s skull intact. The scene was horrid. Although your hand was covering her, Peter couldn’t look away from his handiwork.
“Y/N, we have to go,” Bucky cried, his metal arm having to wrap around Peter’s neck to settle him. You shook your head as you rocked your sister back and forth, whimpers and sobs falling from your parted lips.
“You go.”
“Y/N.”
“You go!”
Bucky winced and helped Peter stand up. Peter fell back down, his dead weight buckling Bucky’s knees.
“Buck, what the hell happened-”
Steve cut himself off as soon as he took in the scene in front of him. His breath hitched and his eyes instantly watered. He hooked his shield to his back and ran to you. He lowered himself and kneeled before you, his hands wandering around the air as if he didn’t know where to touch you. You whimpered and continued to rock your sister. Steve’s eyes scaled your body when he noticed your injuries. There had to be at least three pints of blood splattered across the floor all from you, Lucy, and Bucky. There was no way to tell who lost the most.
“Y/N,” Steve started but you glared at him and set your sister back on the floor. Steve stood up and was about to help you do the same when you scooted closer to Lucy and lay next to her. He sighed and looked over at Bucky.
Bucky nodded his head toward Peter and closed his eyes, the action a non-verbal explanation as to why the youngest superhero was here also. Steve rushed to his side, gripping Peter in his arms and holding him bridal style. Peter’s quakes rattled Steve’s chest. Once he exited, Bucky stood up and ran to you. Without another word, he stripped his upper layers and ripped off the black t-shirt he wore under it all. He folded it up and scooped you slightly, wrapping the fabric across your stomach and pressing down on it. He lifted you up and held you close to him as he walked away from the gore. You didn’t say anything- you didn’t struggle, you didn’t scream, you didn’t even mumble. It was as if you had accepted defeat- a defeat that you were witness to.
The cold air nipped at your blood-stained cheeks and bruised your stomach further. The building was almost completely enveloped in black smoke and for some reason, you wished Bucky had left you inside to suffocate.
“And the Singular Project?” Fury asked, rushing toward you and Bucky. Bucky growled and gaped at him, pushing passed him and stepping into the quinjet.
“Go get her sister,” Bucky called out, his angry gaze shaking even Fury to his core.
“Is she armed?”
“She’s down.”
No further words were exchanged. Your whole team took a beating, the smell of ash, blood, and dirt mixed together to create the common after-battle atmosphere. Except there was no congratulatory comments, no calls from the president to seal the finale, and no jokes about ‘needing a drink’ after all of it. Instead, everyone hid in their specific corners and huddled into blankets, allowing Fury to take the wheel.
Bucky set you down in the middle of the quinjet, laying you on the floor and removing his shirt from you. As he tried to stop the bleeding, tears fell from his eyes onto you. If you weren’t already drenched in the red liquid they would have been visible.
You sighed and reached for his face. He stopped his first-aid and looked at you, his metal hand coming up to grip your wrist. You tried to grin through your chaotic, spinning head. As everything else became blurry, Bucky was the only thing you could see clearly.
“You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen,” you commented. Bucky let out a quiet chuckle and he smiled, his eyes crinkling. The compliment he had heard you profess before your first kiss with him ignited the fire within his chest.
“I love you, too.”
_________
1. Companionship: fellowship; the filling of an empty void.
2. Nightmare: a terrifying dream in which the dreamer experiences feelings of helplessness, anxiety, and sorrow; the dreamer can experience a ‘nightmare’ outside of own mind as well.
3. Decomposition: the process of decay of a body that was once inhabited.
You winced as you stepped out of bed and onto the cold tile floor. Bruce had come the last two days to change the bandage and wrap it every four hours. Right now, only a small amount blood was visible through the bandage. You were still bleeding from the sudden movements you would accidently make, like turning in your sleep or getting out of bed in general. Your throat was hoarse and your whole body was sore. The others felt the same, except the emotional trauma was absent in this case. Sure, seeing you and Bucky electrocuted in front of their eyes scarred them for life but you had been the only one to lose a member of the team.
Your thoughts were hazy and they would often revert to Peter. He was sent home and was not allowed to step foot into the compound unless it was to hang out with Tony.
Bucky had been the one to drop Peter off at his tiny apartment in Queens, introducing himself to Aunt May and briefly explaining night terrors to her. She would need to prepare herself, Bucky had mentioned, telling her that the best thing to do was to not wake him up and to wait. After that, her only job was to hold him and console him. His favorite movies, his favorite books, homework, Ned, Michelle, Tony- anything to keep him occupied when his eyes weren’t closed. Bucky had also urged May to keep Peter indoors during the night and to not let him put on the suit.
On the first night, Peter woke up screaming and would not calm down. His clothes were being ripped to shreds, his nails would claw at his throat, and his blankets began to smother him. May could only stand by the doorway and watch him ride it all out, clutching her chest and her cell phone- Tony’s number on speed dial. Tony climbed through the window and left his suit outside to stand guard. He grabbed Peter and held him close. Tony told stories about his own experiences. He would sit at the edge of Peter’s bed until he fell back to sleep. Once his breathing became normal, Tony would motion for May to give him a call whenever and wherever. Exiting through his window, Tony let out a heavy sigh and flew back to the compound to catch up on some necessary sleep himself.
On the second night, Peter awoke abruptly and begged May to give him his suit. After many failed attempts, Peter fell to the floor and allowed for his rocking form to crumble even further. Neighbors pounded on their front door asking what the hell was going on but quickly retreated back into their apartments when Bucky stomped down the hallway. His heavy boots connected to the floor as if they were telling everyone that there was ‘nothing to see here.’ Bucky eagerly enveloped Peter and urged May to make some coffee. That night, Bucky was the one to tell Peter of his time under the influence of HYDRA and how still to this day he wakes up screaming at the top of his lungs. He apologized to Peter for countless of things - “I’m sorry you had to see me and Y/N be tortured. I’m sorry you had to kill her sister. I’m sorry you have to live with this shit. I’m sorry you are like all of us: Fucked up.”
Peter was decomposing, his past-self battling with his present-self as to how to create and mold his future-self. He was no longer innocent and pure- he was tainted and rotten. The same feelings of regret and utter betrayal you had felt were haunting Peter every moment he closed his eyes. It was almost as if his body wasn’t his anymore. He was barely controlling it while the normal functions left him unbothered. The old Peter was stripped and laid across the floor, breaking down from skin to muscle, from muscle to bone, from bone to dust. Once each layer caved in, he began to pray. The sight of the body he once inhabited decomposing before his very eyes had him on his knees with his hands clawed through each other.
You washed your face and dried it carefully, dabbing at the cuts and bruises scattered over your skin. You stared at yourself in the mirror for a long time, eyebrows furrowing when no tears slipped. You had cried over your sister’s death, but for the past couple hours it was impossible. You had to almost force yourself to feel something. Surprisingly, all you felt was relief. She was out of HYDRA’s control, she wasn’t committing numerous crimes, and she was finally peaceful. You felt guilty thinking this way, but it was true. She was free and you were grateful.
_____
“I feel like I should go see him.” You were laying on your back with Steve on top of you, holding your knee up to your stomach. You took long and quiet breaths, keeping your eyes closed as Steve pushed further.
“I don’t think he’s quite ready to face you,” Steve explained, letting go of your leg and placing it back onto the mat. He lifted your other leg and repeated the exercise.
“I just feel like I should tell him that I’m not mad at him,” you admitted.
“You’re not mad at him?” Steve gaped, watching as your face contorted.
You breathed out, “No, I’m not.”
“Here, turn over.”
You obliged, turning over to your left side and letting Steve push your hips outward and inward slightly.
“How are you not mad?” Steve broke the silence.
You sighed, “Lucy was long gone.”
Steve frowned at this as he remembered his tone of voice when he told you that your sister’s recovery wasn’t going to be as miraculous as Bucky’s. “Yeah, but...”
“I know what you must be thinking...” you winced when Steve let go of your hip. You flipped onto your other side, allowing Steve to guide you again. “I fought so hard to bring her back and now that she’s gone, I’m acting as if everything’s fine.”
“Denial.”
You grimaced, “Yeah, but believe me when I say I’m not mad at Peter. I was going to die if he hadn’t pulled the trigger.”
Steve swallowed thickly, nodding as his only response. “Bucky was asking for you this morning.”
“I took a long bath. I wasn’t in time for our daily, morning coffees.”
Steve didn’t pry any further and instead continued your physical therapy.
_____
“I thought dinner time was reserved for Wanda,” you chuckled, setting your dinner plate on your bed. Natasha smiled, bringing her fork up to her mouth as she sprawled out across your covers.
“Who said I can’t mix things up?” she joked. It had been a while since you had spoken with Natasha but it was as if no time had passed.
“Hey, Nat,” you mumbled, poking at your food.
“Yeah?”
“I want to finish school.”
“Okay, finish it.”
You shook your head and closed your eyes. “I want to go back now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Being an Avenger was nice and all but it’s not the job for me,” you admitted. Natasha placed her fork across her plate and sat up, her face stern.
“You’re going to leave?” she questioned, scooting closer to you.
You sighed, “It was my original plan.”
Natasha shook her head rapidly, “No, no! You belong here.”
You grinned and chuckled, “I belong in a lab with bones that are thousands of years old.”
“Have you mentioned any of this to Bucky? The man is in love with you!” Natasha raised her voice and you quickly moved to cover her mouth.
“I was going to tonight. I’m not planning on leaving him! I just want a change in profession.”
“Don’t we all,” Natasha began. “Look, none of us want to be here. We’re just the only one’s strong enough and worthy enough of protecting everyone else. You are one of us now. You have proven that a thousand times over!”
“Nat...” you spoke, but she quickly interrupted.
“We’re always understaffed. No one wants to fight aliens, HYDRA, the goddamn useless wars themselves and instead they enlist us,” Natasha continued. “It took so much work and love to get this team back together after the whole Winter Soldier situation.”
You stared as her eyes watered and she bit her bottom lip. You didn’t want to leave any of them- you just wanted to stop killing. You wanted to stay with Bucky and be happy, just not touch a knife ever again if it wasn’t meant for cooking.
“If you leave, then the team suffers another split. Peter, Bucky, Steve... it would have all been pointless suffering.”
Your breath hitched and you set your plate down. You brought your thumb to your lips and you bit your nail, not daring to interrupt Natasha again.
“Don’t leave. We need you just as much as you need us.”
You smiled behind your finger, tears prickling your eyes. “Can’t I at least get my degree?”
Natasha chuckled and wiped her cheek. “Yeah, we can arrange that.”
______
As you were getting ready for bed, you heard Bucky’s bedroom door open and close. You grinned to yourself and walked over to the wall, bringing your fist up and knocking against it.
“.. / -- .. ... ... / -.-- --- ..- .-.-.-“ I miss you.
It took a couple seconds before he responded, the sound of heavy footsteps making you grin wider.
“-.-- --- ..- .----. .-. . / - .... . / --- -. . / - .- .--. .--. .. -. --. / --- -. / .- / .-- .- .-.. .-.. / .. -. ... - . .- -.. / --- ..-. / -.- -. --- -.-. -.- .. -. --. / --- -. / -- -.-- / -.. --- --- .-. .-.-.-“ You’re the one tapping on a wall instead of knocking on my door.
You rolled your eyes at the long response. You listened closely and took in every letter, your mind working harder than it had the past week.
“--- -. / -- -.-- / .-- .- -.-- .-.-.-” On my way.
You raced from your room and told F.R.I.D.A.Y to lock the door behind you. Before you could knock on his door, he opened it and gripped your hand to pull you inside. You yelped lightly and swatted his shoulder, reminding him of the bruises on your shoulders. He frowned but nodded, playfully carrying you to his bed.
“Hey, I wanted to ask you something,” you stated, crawling beneath the covers and facing him. Bucky lay beside you, his hand holding his head up as he stared down at you.
“Yeah?”
“I want to go back to school.”
Bucky scrunched his face in confusion but he let you continue.
“I want to go back and get my degree and find a job.”
If he didn’t no any better, and he didn’t, Bucky could have sworn you were basically telling him you wanted to leave him and never come back. Still, he kept quiet and ignored the pain in his chest.
“I don’t think I’m cut out to be an Avenger. Don’t get me wrong, it was fun but brutal,” you paused, frowning. “But I just want a normal life, you know?”
Now, Bucky was ready to cry.
“A normal life?” Bucky winced. You quickly sat up and took his metal hand in yours.
“No, no! I just mean a normal job,” you tried to explain. Bucky’s metal fingers wrapped around your flesh one’s hesitantly.
“I’m not normal, am I?”
Your eyes widened. Bucky’s face was becoming sour and it was physically painful to watch each wrinkle begin to form.
“Bucky, you are so perfect. Don’t ever think you’re not!”
“Then why do you want to leave?” Bucky’s voice broke and your heart fell from your chest.
You lowered your voice and tried to explain your reasons as best as you could. “I planned on getting my degree long before I was an Avenger.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t mention anything about leaving the compound... Leaving me.” Bucky was sitting up now, his back against the headboard and his face behind his hands. You pushed the blankets off of you and sat in his lap, grabbing his hands and pulling them down.
“I am not leaving you. Don’t ever say that,” you declared, your eyes swelling up.
“But it’s true!” You didn’t think it was possible for Bucky to look so heartbroken, his eyes swelling up just as yours did.
“Bucky-”
“This was going to happen sooner or later, right? Once you got your sister back you were going to leave?” Your hands fell from his and you sat stiffly on his lap.
“Ouch...” you stated, scanning his face for any remorse.
He shut his eyes and sighed, “I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I didn’t get her back, I lost her forever, and I’m still leaving this profession. What do you say to that?” You picked yourself up and stood up. You padded across the cold tile to no specific destination.
“I say that what we had wasn’t important to you, apparently.” You stopped in your tracks and whipped your head to your boyfriend. You gaped at him as your chest faltered and the beating of your late heart picked up again, only faster than usual. Bucky stood as well, his arms hanging lazily and his head also hanging low.
“Your words hurt,” you admitted, keeping your voice low.
“Yeah, well, you leaving is going to fucking kill me.” Bucky looked up at you and let his emotions take over. His lip quivered slightly and his jaw clenched. You walked up to him and held his face.
“You can come with me,” you said, wiping his tears away.
“My job is here,” Bucky was quick to add. You sighed but still held onto him.
“I can visit.”
“You’re room is here!”
You stepped back. You were losing your patience. “I don’t think you understand what I want exactly.”
“Apparently it’s not me,” Bucky jabbed. You rolled your eyes and threw your hands in the air.
“You’re blowing this way out of proportion!” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I can’t protect you if you’re not here!” Bucky was screaming now and his sudden statement had you seething.
“I don’t need protecting!”
That was the loudest Bucky had ever heard you scream. Perhaps the whole compound had heard. The heaviness on your shoulders returned and all you could do was stare at Bucky in disbelief.
“It’s easier saying that than admitting that you’re the one protecting me.”
You bit your lip and stared at the broken man in front of you. The both of you were broken and torn beyond repair- you had known this. You had replayed all the possibilities of chaos in your head when Bucky had asked you to be his and him, yours. You just never thought it was hurt so damn much.
“I need to find myself.”
Your voice was so small but determination tainted every word and Bucky realized this. Bucky nodded and looked at the floor for only a second before looking back at you.
“I know... but I found myself in you.”
You whimpered and hugged your arms to your chest. You bit your tongue and gathered your next thought in your head.
“I don’t want it to be over between us but I need to finish what I started,” you said. Bucky choked on a sob and stepped to you.
“Promise me you’ll be safe and you’ll visit everyday,” Bucky added, holding you to his chest. You clutched at his shirt and sucked in a rough breath.
“Bucky-”
“Every other day, please. Something...”
You contemplated for a couple seconds, focusing on the beat of Bucky’s breaking heart.
“Okay,” you finally stuttered. Bucky held you tighter, almost as if you’d shatter if he let you go. When he finally did, you did exactly that.
Gathering your belongings quietly in the middle of the night, you kissed Bucky’s forehead as a goodbye. You wanted to shout at his sleeping body and throw yourself over him to feel his never ending warmth. You would have to miss your morning cup of a coffee for the third day in a row.
Without alerting anyone else, you raised your finger over your mouth for the security guard. He nodded his head and asked if you needed any assistance. Smiling at him, you swallowed your tears and simply said you had somewhere you needed to be. Without another word, you slipped through the front doors and hailed a taxi.
A/N: Three more parts guys! Don’t freak out on me now!
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SNOWED IN: A (Tragic) Christmas Story — part one.
In Which Jackie Jinxes It (Hell Freezing Over, That Is)
There’s a saying that exists – a tad obscure, but a rather accurate saying nonetheless: a true friend’s silence hurts more than an enemy’s rough words. I’m not quite sure who came up with that soundbite of wisdom, but they must have lived on the same wavelength as me for a short period of time. Silence coming from the people that at one point, meant the most to you, stings more than digging out bullets that came from the gun of someone who hates your guts. It’s a bitter pill that’s hard to swallow down, and the only cure that I’ve ever found is to dilute the hollow ache into overall numbness is to just fill yourself with endless other things and people as best you can, and leave absolutely no time to dwell on other thoughts. It’s relatively foolproof.
Relatively is the operative phrase, of course; somehow, I got tripped up in a few loose wires in my oh-so-easy, rock-solid method in avoiding the aftermath of radio signals going quiet. The push that triggered my fall was unlocking my phone to see a new text message waiting for me on the lockscreen.
Jennifer Lawrence is the type of person that swears they don’t need a cell phone, regardless of the situation they find themselves in. She could be out in the middle of the Nevada desert, stranded, on the verge of dehydration, and her chances of survival would be better without the aid of a phone to call for help. She’s attained the level of fame that having only one cell phone no longer cuts it; there’s a work cell phone, a celebrity-personal cell phone, a personal personal cell phone, the whole nine yards and then some. Jen never even liked being the owner of a laptop, so the fact that I’m supposed to believe she has actually picked up a phone for a reason other than being within an inch of her life, much less having used emojis (Jennifer Lawrence is not an emoji person) doesn’t fly. In fact, all it does is signal the arrival of the body snatchers to Planet Earth.
So, there I was, staring down at the glowing screen of my phone with a well-written, proper grammar and punctuation included, paragraph long text message from none other than my former costar whom I haven’t heard from since I turned seventeen looking back up at me, the three emojis tacked on at the end a downright mockery. I briefly contemplated on checking the Internet to see if any news had broken on Jennifer Lawrence’s phone falling into the possession of hackers, and when I tried sending a response to debunk the ridiculousness once and for all (asking if it was really her, if she was sure she had the right number, and the request of a picture of her holding up three fingers for solid proof) all I got was evidence that it really was her and she was as serious as a heart attack. I very quickly decided that the body snatching alien theory was the soundest – I’d give them credit too; these body snatchers were outrageously convincing.
Most of the feeling of having the rug ripped out from underneath my ass came from a place of solitude that I’ve somewhat cocooned myself into over the last few years. Isolating myself away from my former core group of friends just…happened, really. It wasn’t like it took that much work. We were all on different paths, and we still are – just because we all avowed to be friends for life doesn’t mean that life isn’t going to have a few surprises up its sleeve. I’m not fourteen anymore, and I tried not to take too much offense when the numbers started dropping. Most, if not all of us have grown up substantially. It’s completely normal to grow apart and go our separate ways without being the wiser, it’s simply a part of life that occurs. And it didn’t bother me any either, until I’d catch a glimpse of the picture on my night table of myself, Jackie, Dayo, Alexander, and Amandla that I for some reason cannot bring myself to change out and get the overwhelming urge to call all of them at once or cry. I’d usually go with the third option, which was stuffing myself up underneath the covers and sleeping it off.
But now, morning has arrived and Jennifer’s got both hands on the curtains as she yanks them open to wake me up and almost blind me in the process. I’m slightly disoriented, trying my best to remember how in the hell I got to this point. Once upon a time, I had the hard reputation of being the most optimistic in the group – which is a hard lie, seeing as how for as long as I have known him, nothing has been able to sway Dayo of his belief that Tupac is still alive on an island somewhere – and yet here I am, triple-checking the truth value of a text from Jen because I’m simply finding it all that hard to believe.
I took Jen’s long, emoji-filled invitation and ran with it regardless, all the way past my frowning mother to JFK where I’m now waiting on a red-eye flight to Aspen, Colorado. Spending the holidays with Jen was something that didn’t even make the list of things that would ever possibly cross my mind, but I didn’t have anything else to do. It seemed like it’d be fun, much more so than trying to help carry the last-minute Christmas tree up the stairs in the high-rise apartment complex my mother lives in.
Airports are less than pleasant, especially late at night and when alone. I don’t like them much to begin with, but usually I have Madeline or Elina to keep me company – my mom being the preferred choice, as Madeline is on one of two wavelengths at an airport: talk to no one, or bitch at everyone. It’s just me this go ‘round, my only companion the steady flow of noise as surrounding gates are called to board, televisions playing the news, and people around me engage in actual conversations with one another. This is the last place on Earth I want to be, and my face conveys that plain as day.
I’m halfway towards a cat nap, the only plausible option as of what to do with myself before they call my flight to board, when my ears pick up the sound of one particular voice over all the rest.
“Excuse the hell out of me, I didn’t realize that I would be boarding Air Force One this evening!”
On instinct, I sit up a little straighter in this ridiculous chair that is designed to give its occupants a future of poor posture. There’s only one voice that I’ve ever heard in that strangled of a tone, and there’s only one person that would string such words together in the most inappropriate location possible. Spoiler alert: they belong to each other.
Turning around in my seat, I wish I could say that I’m surprised to see Jack Quaid huffing and puffing his way towards the same empty gate I’ve stationed myself at, but I’m not. Surprise is no longer an emotion I feel whenever I come into the vicinity of Jack Quaid.
“Honestly, you’ve been to enough airports in your measly lifetime, why are you acting as though the world has ended over TSA confiscating your bear repellent?” Another voice is added into the mix over the commotion, and the options of who could possibly be with Jack and discussing bear repellent like it’s the daily weather report quickly dwindle down to one. I ask myself if there will ever come a day when I don’t accidentally run into these people. “And why the hell did you have bear repellent in your bag to begin with?”
“We’re going to fucking Colorado, Jacqueline, why would I not pack bear repellent?”
“We’ll be in Colorado, not the middle of fucking nowhere!” she barks in retaliation. I don’t see how they haven’t drawn anyone else’s attention – they’re not exactly good at keeping things at a volume that is to themselves. Jack lets out a long, agitated groan, before puffing out his chest and his voice lifts an octave, all matter-of-fact.
“You just remember this when a bear comes along and you need me to save you.”
Judging by the look on Jackie’s face, she’s considering taking her suitcase and using it to run Jack over. “We are not going to be attacked by bears, and like you would ever be able to hold your own against a bear that wasn’t Winnie the Pooh!”
“I genuinely do not know why I bother spending any time with you,” Jack declares dramatically. The two of them go strolling right past me without giving me so much as a second glance – really feeling the love – when I decide to make my own grand entrance into their conversation.
“It’s because you two are lowkey lovers; you just don’t bother admitting it to anyone even though we’ve all known that you’ve had this little fling going on since the Catching Fire premiere.” Jackie’s head is the first to whip around, fast enough to break her neck and her eyes feral as they land on me. Jack drops his suitcase handle, it clattering onto the floor. It looks as though he may have suffered a minor heart attack from my little intrusion.
They’re burning holes in me as they gape, not a single word to be had between the two of them – which, really, is a feat – and I shrug. “What?” I ask, my lips already beginning to curl up into a smirk. “Did I get it wrong or something?”
It seems as though I have shorted the circuit in Jackie’s brain as she blinks at me in a rapid secession. “Yes, hi Isabelle, it’s so lovely to see you too!” I mimic her, standing up with my arms outstretched for a hug.
Jack seems to shake free of his dumbstruck state before Jackie does, claiming the hug meant for her as his own. “Are you sure you’re actually Isabelle?” he questions. “I mean, the whole evil genius bit is still true to character, but last time I checked, Isabelle was much scrawnier. Had real chicken-y legs and bony elbows.”
To prove a point, I ram one of my elbows into his chest. He winces, nodding. “Yep,” he mutters. “Still bony.”
I turn to face Jackie, holding my arms open once again for her. The look of shock has somewhat dissolved from her features as her eyes meet mine. One of my eyebrows quirks. “Going off on a honeymoon?” I tease.
Jackie’s voice is back from wherever it vanished off to for a few moments. “Nope, try Jen’s.” She folds into my hug at an angle, tucking herself underneath my arm. Those last few inches of my growth spurt, as well as Jackie’s barely-there sandals finally set me taller than her, even though it’s not a hard thing to do to start. Jackie’s always been the shortest out of us Hunger Games kids.
Jackie has also been the only one out of the bunch I’ve bothered to keep in touch with over the years. There was no trial or tribulation life could hurtle in the way of our friendship that could scratch the surface – she and I had become instant best friends meeting all those years ago and nothing really had an effect on that. She and I liked to think that we were platonic soulmates, and nothing as pesky as distance could dent that. Jack was sort of part of the package deal that came along with Jackie. Just like her mood swings, impromptu Harry Potter marathons, and week-long vegan stints, Jack was something that you got when you signed up for a friendship with Jackie. I saw him less than I saw Jackie, but much more than anyone else out of our little Hunger Games cult.
“Am I wrong to assume you’re here for that very reason as well?”
“Nope, because you’d be very correct.”
“Then I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that you got the exact same text message as us,” Jackie continues, glancing up at me.
“What, the one with perfect grammar and more emojis than we thought Jen knew how to use?”
“That’d be the one.”
Jack sidles up beside me, draping one of his arms around my shoulders. “Isabelle,” he begins, channeling his inner car salesperson. “You’d agree with me that because we’re going to be out in the wilderness for the next few days, it’s only sane that we arm ourselves with necessities such as bear repellent—"
“Give it a fucking rest already!”
After only just barely serving as the wall between Jack’s throat and Jackie’s claws, the two of them join me in my little corner of our flight’s gate. Not only has Jen apparently decided to play the ever so gracious host over the holidays by extending her vacation home to us, but she’s posted the three of us up with first class plane tickets. Here I’d thought it was just Jen trying to make up for the missed birthdays by at least letting me fly in style halfway across the country.
It’s easy to fall back into a routine of sorts with Jackie and Jack, like no time has passed at all. Jack’s telling me all about the alcoholic beverages I ought to try in February (I hate to crush even more of his dreams and tell him that I’ve spent my fair share of time in Europe over the last few years and for my nineteenth birthday, Madeline got me a fake ID as a present) and Jackie’s giving me the full synopsis of her musical, practically trying to sell the lead role to me. For a moment, I almost feel like I’m fifteen once again and time hasn’t passed me by at all. There’s a part of me that’s tempted to check my phone’s background and see if it’s reverted back to me on Dayo’s back with a giant sparkler held over his head from my birthday party.
“Can I ask you a question, Izzy?” Jack asks for permission, the arm that isn’t draped around Jackie’s shoulders lifting in mock arrest. “And you have to promise me that you won’t get offended or throw the knife in your underwear at my head when I do.”
I roll my eyes. “I haven’t thrown a knife in years, Jack,” I tell him. “And besides, TSA would have swiped it just like they did your precious bear repellent.”
Jack slouches a little, the sulking expression returning to his face. “Do you know how much that bear repellent cost?” he groans. From beside him, Jackie’s shooting me daggers for even bringing the subject back up.
“Just ask the question already, Quaid,” she prompts him.
“Right, yeah – okay, so why in the world did you start running for Nike? I love you and support you and all that other bullshit, but you are not the athlete type. You could barely walk on the hotel carpet barefoot without having a near emergency-room-worthy disaster.” He then reaches up to cover his face, most likely a protective gesture.
“I’m not gonna kill you, Jack, Jesus,” I bark. He slowly lowers his arm, still housing a great deal of hesitation. “Besides, you’re not the first person to ask me that, Madeline tried to declare me incompetent when I told her about the gig. One of my hands begins to mess with the ends of my hair absentmindedly. “It was just something different. Nothing wrong with getting outside of your comfort zone.”
“You know what’s outside of my comfort zone?” Jackie pipes back up. “Seeing Ludwig on the History channel. I didn’t even know he knew what history was, aside from that of his browser’s.”
“Ha, ha. Become a comedian, why don’t you?” A new voice enters our conversation, and as if right on cue, I can feel all the blood in my body turn to ice water.
Scratch that – I now feel like I’m fourteen again.
I turn around, and sure enough, there stands Alexander Ludwig. Or at least, who I think is Alexander. I haven’t seen him in person in nearly four years, only going by the guide that Instagram has given me, and even that was a recent development. Somewhere up above, I can hear God laughing at me, because this has to be the doing of his need for quality entertainment.
Alexander is somehow able to avert from the death stare Jackie’s giving him, his eyes finding me. “Hey, Isabelle,” he says, face softening ever so slightly.
From the seat across from me, I hear Jack give a strangled cough, one that sounds oddly similar to, “Just fuck already.” It’s followed by the sound of Jackie slapping Jack in the shoulder.
“Uh…hi?” I now know how the happy couple felt when I materialized out of thin air – at a complete loss for words. Alexander offers me a hopeful smile and still relatively unsure of what I’m supposed to do with myself, I stand up and go in for the hug. It’s awkward, and I’m sure Jackie is snickering behind my back as we attempt to figure our hug out. We both move in the same direction as we extend our arms, stopping almost halfway before we wordlessly try to determine who’s coming in from the left and who isn’t. If there was an award for it, this would win for the most awkward reunion hug ever, hands down.
It takes a second, but we get there – Alexander folds me up underneath his arms, both of them encircling around my shoulders as my hands slip around his waist. It’s been four years since I’ve so much as seen him in the flesh, so I’m sure this sort of hug is too far of a leap forward back into anything resembling the relationship we once had. Throwing caution to the wind just so happened to always be Alexander’s trademark. We stay like that for much too long, but help myself I cannot. I’ve already fallen down the rabbit hole of the familiar, might as well set up shop there.
“Good to see ya,” he mumbles as we pull away. Right back to the formalities, I suppose.
“Yeah, you too.”
Jackie is burning holes in me when I turn back around, tugging down on the hem of my shirt as I head back to my seat. Alexander has never really been Jackie’s favorite person, and I don’t think time and distance has made her heart grow any fonder.
“I suppose that you being on a flight that isn’t to Aspen is too much for me to wish for?” Jackie sighs as she quickly redirects her attention to Alexander, one of her eyebrows kinking in question.
“It’s nice to see you too, Jackie,” Alexander says, the beginnings of a smirk forming on his lips. “If I didn’t already know any better, I’d cross my fingers and hope my seat was next to you.” He then shifts his gaze to Jack, winking.
Both of Jackie’s hands fly out of her lap in exasperation. “How do you people know about this?!”
My reply is simultaneous with Alexander’s.
“You two are about as subtle as a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade.”
“Because I have eyes.”
She frowns. “Whatever.”
Alexander sets his backpack down in an empty seat and sits down in the one next to it, which happens to conveniently be right next to mine. He’s glancing right in my lap, and I’m about to beat Jackie to the punch of telling him to fuck off before I realize what he’s looking at. “6A,” he notes, referring to the seat number on the boarding pass that I’ve had sitting underneath my leg – not the most responsible way to keep up with it, but I really hadn’t planned on moving from this chair unless it was to board the plane itself. “I think we’re sitting next to each other.”
For emphasis, he holds up his own boarding pass for me to see. Sure enough, his seat number is the one right next to mine. Even across the way, I can hear Jackie growl under her breath, and Jack moves his arm from around her shoulder to rest on her thigh. I can’t fight my grin – not because of the thought that I get to spend the next few hours next to Alexander, but at how fucking adorable Jack and Jackie are. The only thing more adorable than that, perhaps, is how oblivious they’ve been towards how oblivious they think we are.
Yep, my mind flashes. Welcome back to 2013.
…
I don’t know why we decide to bestow the job of chauffer from the airport to Jen’s onto Jack, seeing as how Jackie and I concluded that Jack only ever got his driver’s license by bribing the DMV with signed headshots of his father’s, but we do it. The three of us are much too lazy to be behind the wheel on foreign terrain, and Jack’s never one to turn down a challenge. All Alexander has to do is volunteer to drive since he’s used to driving in the wintry weather and Jack all but pushes him out of the way. Reverse psychology is real.
It’s late when we land, almost the same time now as it was when our plane took off from JFK. Jackie fortunately gives up her shotgun seat to Alexander, the two of us sprawling out in the backseat as we try to get in a few hours of sleep. Jen might have gotten us first class seats on the plane, but she certainly didn’t take note of where the hell the plane was going to be landing in regards to her location.
The plane landed at Denver International, roughly three hours from Jen’s place in Aspen and a small detail that apparently Jack didn’t take into account until our captain was announcing our arrival. Along with his fellow wolf pack buddy Dayo, Jack is an avid conspiracy theorist in the most aggravating way – he doesn’t believe in any of the plausible conspiracies, only the off-the-wall ones. One of those conspiracies that he does opt to buy in on just so happens to be the one about the Denver airport being the gateway to hell.
As we were trekking off the plane, half-dead, Jack was the only one who seemed apprehensive about disembarking. In fact, I had to ram him along using my suitcase, threatening to run over his ankles if he didn’t pick up the pace.
“What’s your deal?” Jackie grumbled sleepily, tugging him along through the terminals only for him to put up quite the deal of resistance as they moved along.
“Hell, Jackie, we’re in hell,” Jack hissed.
Jackie stopped in her tracks, turning around to give him a few love pats to the face. “Are you okay? Did you smuggle more fucking bear repellent onto the plane and accidentally detonate it on yourself?”
The way Jack looked at her, one would have assumed he thought she had three heads. “No!” he demanded, his voice lowering as he pulled me, Jackie, and Alexander closer to him as though we were about to begin trading government secrets. “Look, you cannot tell me that this is not the sketchiest place you’ve ever been in your life.”
“Untrue,” Jackie dismissed almost immediately. “I grew up in a neighborhood of second-rate politicians.”
Jack had glared at her, before turning to look at me and Alexander for some sort of backup. Alexander merely shrugged. “Don’t look at me dude, I’ve been to the red-light district four times.”
“Yeah, of course you have,” Jack muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. “Have none of you seen pictures of this airport? Been here before? This is literally the entrance to hell – for Christ’s sake, there’s a giant fucking Satanic horse guarding this place like it’s Lucifer’s lapdog!”
“Pretty sure Isabelle and I flew through here for the mall tour stop in Aurora, and we weren’t chased through the concourses by Beelzebub and his horde of demon friends,” Jackie pointed out dryly.
“Jackie, there are goddamn Nazis with rainbows behind them on the murals here, nothing about that strikes you as terrifying?”
“Racism is alive in America, you know.”
“If we’re going to have a riveting discussion on what modern airport art means, can we at least go to Starbucks first?” Alexander asked, raising his hand.
Both Jackie and Jack looked at him, shooting him a resounding, “No!” before going right back to their debate as to whether or not we were standing at the flaming gates. It was at that point that I had to intervene, wedging between them and pulling Jackie away from the conversation and towards the baggage claim. Jack, of course, wasn’t done with his running commentary about how he was convinced Satan was going to pop out from behind a kiosk at any second, mumbling under his breath the whole way through the airport.
“You’ll agree with me and my being right on this,” he avowed as we made our way to our rental car, after swearing that someone was breathing down his neck despite bringing up the rear.
“Yeah, when hell freezes over,” Jackie retorted.
“Well, the weather app says the temperature outside is below freezing, so we’re not too far off.”
I’m not too entirely worried about Jack falling asleep behind the wheel, since his close brush with hell and getting a good look at Blucifer shook him wide awake.
All four of us are running on fumes by the time we make it to Jen’s place. Jackie and I have our noses pressed to the glass of our opposite windows, watching as the snow falls down on the four cars out in the driveway. Snow is no longer uncommon now that I’ve been living in New York City for the last few years, but out here it isn’t interfered with by large construction sites and millions of people. It’s pure, untouched, lazily floating down from the sky and covering the ground in a pristine white blanket.
“God, has she invited us to her family’s Christmas?” Alexander asks quietly. “I didn’t know Jen knew this many people.”
“Oh yeah,” Jackie snorts. “Because being an Oscar winner means you lead a lonely, lonely life.”
Swiveling around in his seat, he turns around and feigns cheerfulness as he smiles at Jackie. “You haven’t changed a bit, Emerson.”
“Right back at ‘ya, Ludwig.”
“Alright,” Jack announces as the engine stops running. “I’m not running the risk of getting trapped in by any other Lawrences in case we need to run for the hills, so the curb it is.”
Jackie leans forward, snaking her upper body around the edge of the driver’s seat to look at Jack. “You know how to overnight park?” she asks cheekily, and I have to turn the rising laugh in my throat into a strangled sort of cough.
“Well, duh,” Jack replies, pulling the keys out of the ignition. “Don’t you have to know how to do that in order to pass your driver’s test?”
“You do.” Jackie falls back in her seat, winking at me as she does.
While I’m almost positive that unloading our luggage would have been a struggle regardless of the weather around us, the snow and steadily picking up wind makes things that much more complicated. Jackie’s doing her best to balance her bags on her back so she doesn’t have to stick them in the snow, which is already up to her ankles, but Jackie isn’t Supergirl – she doesn’t have super strength, and her kryptonite happens to be her inability to pack lightly. Jack and Alexander are currently debating over whose generic black suitcase belongs to whom, preventing me from reaching my last duffel bag and going inside where there’s heat.
I’m about to tell them to either move out of the way or help the short person out, when a new voice rings out over all of us.
“Hey guys!”
Peering around the edge of our car, I see Jen standing on the porch wrapped up in a blanket that looks incredibly toasty, smile stretching from ear to ear at the sight of us. She must be really deprived of quality company.
Taking the opportunity of Jack and Alexander being temporarily distracted from the luggage, I dart back around and all but dive into the trunk to get my last duffel bag. It accidentally hits Jack in the gut as I scramble back out, maneuvering around them to make a break for the stairs up to Jen’s porch.
“Damn, Isabelle!”
“It’s cold and I have thin blood, sue me!” I yell over my shoulder.
Jack is happy to yell right back, “You’re a fake New Yorker!”
Jackie is right on my heels as we climb up the stairs to greet an open-armed Jen. The house is massive, as to be expected, and perhaps it’s the sleep-deprived part of me controlling my brain, but I have never been more thankful for Jen and her vast net-worth, being able to afford a vacation home where even with many guests I will still have a large probability of getting my own bed. I barrel right into Jen, mostly because she’s warm and everything else outside is not.
“Aw, Belly,” she croons playfully. “Didja really miss me that much?”
“You have body heat,” I inform her, wrapping my arms tighter around her.
Jen laughs, prying me off of her and away from the thick blanket that I’d been tucked underneath for a few seconds. “So now I fall second to my temperature?” she asks as she gives Jackie a hug, and I simply shrug.
“Hey, next time invite us to the Caribbean.”
“I’ll put it on the list.” Her eyes avert away from me, most likely landing on the boys that are still trudging their way up the stairs. “You guys are late, I thought your flight landed earlier than this?”
“Yeah, you shipped us right through Satan’s abode, which happens to be three hours from here,” Jack informs her. Jackie, Alexander and I all roll our eyes. “And I’m pretty sure the snow has picked up ever since Blucifer and I locked eyes, which I’m sure is some sort of sign.”
“Late?” Alexander asks before Jack can continue his Denver spiel. Jen nods, gesturing towards the front door.
“C’mon in.”
Everything is all warm and glowing inside, the smell of sandalwood and vanilla embracing me in a comforting hug. We walk right in to what I’m guessing is the living room, a large sectional and a few lounge chairs littered around a crackling fireplace, the TV overhead playing A Charlie Brown Christmas on mute.
Jen wiggles her way up to the front of our lineup, pointing towards the spiral staircase behind the fireplace. “You guys are gonna be in the guest rooms upstairs if that’s okay,” she begins, tugging her blanket around her neck tighter like it’s a cape. “It better be okay, seeing as how I had to ward the hellions away from them.”
“Does this place have an elevator?” Jack asks. “Because my soul has already been compromised once today, I’m too tired to climb up some stairs.”
Jackie’s eyebrows furrow together, still hung up on Jen’s words. “Wait, what do you mean by hellions?”
A shadow falls over Jen’s face almost instantly, quickly diverting any and all eye contact with us. “Well,” she starts, her voice rising an octave. My mind is racing much faster than she can speak. Four other cars out in the driveway, the use of the word hellions, the convenient fact that I just so happened to bump into Jackie, Jack, and Alexander at the airport, all of whom had the same destination as me…
“Wait,” I say slowly as the realization starts to crash over me, and already Jen is beginning to cower into the back of her couch. “You don’t mean—"
“Oh hell to the nah.”
The one and only Dayo Okeniyi comes strolling in from god only knows where – probably the kitchen, seeing as how he has an entire pie in one hand and a fork in the other – stopping dead in his tracks the minute he sees us. Or, rather, Alexander.
“What the hell?” Alexander says, equally as stunned.
Jackie, like myself, seems to have put all the pieces together quickly. “Jen,” she utters out. “Have you done what I think you’ve done?”
“Maybe?” she squeaks.
Right on cue, a leggy blonde comes up behind Dayo. “Dayo, are you talking to yourself again, I thought—” Leven’s voice falls off the deep end the second she lays eyes on the five of us, her face falling. “Oh.”
“Oh is right,” Dayo grumbles.
“What is this, the Hunger Games reunion?” Jackie asks, her eyes still on a hoping-to-disappear Jen.
Ever the wise one, Alexander takes it upon himself to answer that question. “I mean, we’re missing a few people, Josh and ‘Mandla aren’t—”
Alexander, apparently, has spoken too soon, because as soon as the names slip off his lips, out emerge Josh, Amandla, and Willow from the kitchen. The three of them may as well be mythical creatures strolling past the way my eyes bug out of my head. It’s been so long since I’ve heard from any of them to the point I began referring to them in the past tense, like they’ve gone on to greener pastures or some shit.
Josh seems to be the only person who doesn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest by our arrival. He moves past a frozen Amandla and Willow, making his way to one of the recliners in the living room. Something tells me that a) the Charlie Brown Christmas was his idea, and b) he was absolutely in on whatever this is. “Hey Belle, Xander, happy couple!” he greets to each of us individually, a warm smile on his face.
“Alright Liam, come on out!” Jack calls mockingly, in reference to the only person missing from this shebang aside from Gary Ross himself.
Jen’s face falls a little. “Oh no, Liam’s not here,” she confirms as she shakes her head. “He’s in Australia.”
“Well he’s about the only one,” Jackie mumbles.
“Okay, seriously Jen,” Leven pipes up. “What is this?”
“What is what?”
“This,” Dayo repeats, motioning his fork in a circle.
“What?” Jen cries out, holding her arms up as she does her best to feign innocence we all know she doesn’t have in this situation. “I can’t want to have a little holiday get together with old friends, all of whom just so happen to be you guys?”
If looks could kill, Dayo would have Alexander’s blood on his hands and this get together would become a burial service. I never did get the full story as to how the great wolf pack fell apart the way it did, but just going out on a limb, my guess is that it wasn’t pretty and left a little bit of bad blood. Their demise, I think, was the other reason aside from life itself that lead all of us to going our own ways – no one wants to break up a fight between men large enough to have their own area code, and most of us wouldn’t have been able to do so just based on physical means alone. “Yeah, no; sorry, Jenny,” Dayo quickly apologizes, breaking his steely glare off of Alexander for only a split second.
“I mean, no offense to you guys, but isn’t this a bit…y’know, outdated?” Leven says, gesturing around the group as she leans up against the wall. “It’s been years since we all hung out together.”
“Yes, which means we’re overdue,” Jen tries to persuade us, her selling smile not very convincing. “No time like the present to remedy that, right?”
My arms fold over my chest. “Why wouldn’t you just tell us the truth, that this is what our ‘holiday extravaganza’ was gonna be?”
“Hey, I didn’t lie to you guys,” Jen protests, and Jackie is quick to counter that.
“You just left out the whole truth.”
We’re all turning on Jen at a rate she didn’t foresee and doesn’t appreciate, because her fuse is beginning to shorten on us. “Look,” she huffs. “I’m sorry I lied by omission, or whatever; I knew if I told you guys that I was inviting the whole gang, I wouldn’t have even gotten some of you to reply to my text. Hell, some of you didn’t anyways.” Her eyes cut over to Alexander, who takes a step behind me. I don’t know what he’s expecting, if I’m going to service as a shield or what. Our hug at the airport and the several-hour conversation we’d wound up in the air might have been nice, but I’m not standing in the line of fire for him.
“Jen, I get the sentiment of wanting to do this…kinda, I guess,” Jackie says, unable to sell even herself on what she’s saying. “But Leven’s right. We haven’t all hung out together in years, you ever think that maybe that was for a reason?”
Jen’s face quickly falls into a deadpan. “I don’t know why all of you are suddenly bitching, you didn’t complain any when I flew you out first class and let you eat my whole fucking chocolate pie.” From behind her, Dayo guiltily lowers the fork from his mouth. “And to be fair, Jackie, you had the chance to make a run for it the minute you realized Alexander was on the same flight as you, but you didn’t.”
“I mean, I certainly thought about it—”
“Really?!”
“Okay, can we just sort this mess out in the morning? I have had to quite literally go through hell this evening,” Jack whines, and Jackie and I both groan. I’m suddenly missing his griping about the bear repellent right about now, and I’d bet serious money Jackie feels the same. “We just all go to sleep for now, and if anyone wants to bow out, they can do it in the morning.”
Never in my life have we all been on the same page as Jack Quaid, and on the same page as a fairly decent idea that came from him at that. Leven nods, Dayo gives him a three-fingered salute before going right back into the pie, and if my eyes aren’t deceiving me, I think Jackie’s already looking for flights back home for three people – either she and Jack have packed a kid in that suitcase, or they’re sweeping me under their wing and providing me with my get out of jail free card.
Jen doesn’t seem too pleased with this, and I can tell she’s about to argue it. Before she even opens her mouth, a shrill alarm goes off without any warning. It scares all of us but really gets me (what can I say, the skittishness never went away) and causes me to jump nearly ten feet in the air. I stumble back against Alexander, who seems more than pleased to catch and steady me. Jackie is less than thrilled by this, her eyes making Alexander’s hands on my shoulders even hotter than before as she tries to set them ablaze.
“What the fuck was that?” Dayo spits, hand resting over his heart as he tries to regulate its beat back to normal.
“Is that your way of punishing us for not liking this little plan of yours?”
“No, it’s my phone,” Jen replies, rolling her eyes. “Although if it’s working, then yes.” She pulls her phone out from her pocket and her eyes quickly begin flitting over the screen. The expression on her face changes as she reads, and already I can tell something is wrong by the time she lifts her head. “Um, so, the whole leaving here tomorrow morning thing you guys have come up with might not be happening.”
“Why not?” Dayo asks. “Are you going to hold us hostage?”
Jen holds up her phone as an explanation. “That was my dear friend the National Weather Service. We’re currently under a winter storm warning for…heavy snow and blowing snow,” she reads off, before looking back up at the rest of us.
“So a blizzard?” Alexander repeats.
“Near blizzard,” Jen corrects. Alexander looks at her, befuddled.
“It’s the same thing as a blizzard, why not just…call it what it is?”
“Because it’s not!”
“Okay,” Leven sings disarmingly. “We can discuss the National Weather Service’s classification criteria later, let’s just go back to the real issue for a second. Are you saying that we’re stuck here?”
Jen nods. “Says that this is in effect until tomorrow night, maybe later—"
“Tomorrow night? Maybe later?!” Jackie splutters.
“Yes, your hearing is as on point as ever, Jackie. There’s no telling how much more snow it’s gonna bring our way.” I can tell that Jen is trying her best not to look too overly pleased at this development fate has seemed to deliver her, while everyone else is in their varying states of shocked, irritated, or flat out tired – I happen fall into the third category, along with Amandla, who is about two steps away from knocking out in Willow’s lap and not moving until morning.
Josh leans back a little farther in the recliner, both of his hands folded behind his head. “Well, let’s just hope that we don’t get trapped in here or something. That sure would suck.” Everyone immediately turns from wherever they’re standing in the room to glower at him.
Some things just don’t ever change, I guess.
#thg cast#the hunger games#alexbelle#emerquaid#thg fanfiction#em writes#fanfic#snowed in#alexander ludwig#isabelle fuhrman#jack quaid#jackie emerson#leven rambin#josh hutcherson#jennifer lawrence#amandla stenberg#willow shields#dayo okeniyi#here we go!!#i've had this story in my drafts for like 2 years so i hope it is worth the wait you didn't know you were waiting out#i am also as sick as sick can be so just know i am doing this for you guys xx
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Just Sleep, Just Dream
Characters: India, Delta, X-Ray, Uniform, Zulu, Golf and Jacqueline Forbes
Word Count: 3,685
Trigger Warning: Swearing, Violence, Blood, Death
A/N: The end. It’s pretty long too and I am sorry about that. I tried my best with this little India Company adventure and there are a few things I wish I changed but I hope whoever reads this like it.
Parts: X, X, X, X, X, X
Summary: The gang heads to New York to track down a bank CEO suspected of running an underground gambling ring. But surprises come in all shapes and sizes. And the truth is always what you least expect it to be. Click that read more if you want.
XXXXX
When she came for him he didn’t know what to expect. He hadn’t been in a situation like this one since he was young. He had spent every waking moment trying to prevent this exact thing from happening. Feeling like a helpless young boy was the last thing he wanted. The door opened slowly, letting in a small portion of light, and she walked down the stairs.
She crossed the floor in silence and stood less than a foot away.
The woman said nothing as she grabbed his hand and pulled him to a standing position. Quickly wrapping a black cloth over his eyes and ears; she blocked out his sight and muffled his hearing. She told him to be quiet and not to worry. He nodded and let her take his hand. Remaining as silent as a stone he let her guide him up the stairs and out of the basement.
Just like that Uniform was that little kid he tried so hard to stop being.
Helpless, afraid, and alone.
Memories of years before, of things he wished he could forget, flooded his brain. The situation was all too familiar. Every single detail was almost the exact same; from the blindfold to the cuffs on his wrists. He hated how he felt at that moment. He hated it back then and hated it even more now. He wasn’t supposed to be in this position.
It was supposed to be the opposite.
He heard a door open and was shoved inside a room. Hearing the door shut, and lock, behind him sent a nervous shiver down his spine. Forbes sent him falling onto the bed with a hard shove. Uniform did not like anything about this. He felt the mattress sink as she climbed on top.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”
He didn’t know what to do so he just nodded silently.
He could feel the bed move as she moved closer to him. She unlocked the handcuffs and removed them from his wrists. Then she did the same to the cuffs around his ankles. He let out a small sigh. Sexual kinks were one thing but he had a line and he drew it at cuffs. She reached behind his ears and undid the blindfold. It delicately fell on to the bed without a sound. Then with no warning or ask for permission she started to kiss him. Her hands grabbed his and put them on her body.
“Let me,” he said.
Then he took control of the situation. Turning her on her back he got on top of her and started to run his hands down her arms. Grabbing the end of the shirt she wore he pulled it over her head. Uniform threw the shirt behind him and it landed on the floor silently. With her shirt off he moved to unbutton her pants.
“I’m not going to have to worry about you getting clients pregnant am I?” she asked grabbing his wrists violently.
“You won’t need to worry about that from either of us,” he said.
Forbes cocked an eyebrow; silently urging him to reveal more. Uniform was unsure of how much he could actually say. And how was he supposed to say it so that she wouldn’t catch on to the reality of things. If she found out the truth then his plan would fall flat. If that happened there was a high possibility that neither of them would survive the night. After a minute or two he sighed and summed it up for her.
“Mom and dad, they, were conservative and strict to put it lightly. When they saw that Zo and I were growing up they felt the need to put a stop to it. But that wasn’t the end of it. They took it upon themselves to make sure none of us could have children.”
“Your parents did that to you? Oh my gosh, how awful!”
Uniform said nothing.
“So… Zoe and Urban are your real names then? And you two are actual brother and sister?”
“Adoptive siblings, so to speak, yes. But we are lovers off and on as well. To be quite frank I love her more than anything in the world and I’ll do anything I can to keep her safe.”
“Sentiment,” he said with a shrug.
She started to say something else but he shut her up with a deep kiss. He knew exactly what he was doing. Forbes would not be getting the upper hand this time. Uniform just got it and was not about to give it back. Moving to kiss her neck he reached down and unbuttoned her pants; pulling them off her legs. As he ran his hands up her thigh, to remove her underwear, she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. Then he threw her panties to the floor as she tossed her bra to the side of the bed.
Only then did he take his boxers off.
When they finished Jacqueline got up and started to redress herself.
“That was good,” she said. “Not the best but good.”
“Trust me, ma’am, I can do better.”
“We’ll see about that.”
With that she left and closed the door behind her; locking it.
XXXXX
Zulu came to with a splitting headache and the feeling like she was about to hurl. Blinking the nausea away she surveyed her surroundings. The room she was in was not the basement. That much was clear. But the room was dark and she couldn’t see much.
What is it with this woman and drugging people?
She reached around and tried to get a feel for her surroundings. Her hand hit something that felt like a foot and she jerked back in shock.
“Hello, little one.”
“I get that I’m short but you have got to stop calling me that. What do you want anyway? Come to beat on me some more?”
“I know I bite but I mean well. Trust me, I really do.”
Zulu scoffed; “You expect me to believe you?”
Forbes nodded.
She laughed loudly; throwing her head back.
“Is something funny?”
“Yes. You, you thinking that you have some power over us. Newsflash, lady. You know nothing about us and we know everything about you.”
“Oh, really?”
“You really think we’d come at you half-assed? Seriously? Boy do I have news for you! I had been listening to your phone calls, and he had been tailing you, for an entire week before we met you.”
“You think you’re so smart but you had no fucking idea about us until we wanted you to.”
“And who has the power now?”
She had wanted to hit this woman before but she wanted to do it even more now. She didn’t care about what would happen after. None of that mattered. And besides this woman kidnapped people and forced them to be sex workers. There was no reason for her to stay alive.
“I promise I will bury you alive.”
Jacqueline smacked her across the face.
But Zulu was done with this bullshit. She had enough of this woman and her stupid little games. She wanted more than anything to put a bullet between this woman’s eyes. It was bad enough that she had sex with Uniform. But if she was being honest with herself Zulu wasn’t upset about that. The thing that pissed her off the most was that Forbes got the upper hand on them. That she abducted them, kept them in fucking basement, and ripped a nail off her finger just to break them down.
Unbeknownst to Forbes they had been broken down years ago and could not be broken any further.
“You are so dead for that.”
Forbes ignored her comment and turned her back; started to walk out of the small room. But she stopped short in the doorway. Then she turned back around and stepped back inside. Closing the door behind her she locked the two of them inside. She ripped a piece of cloth from the dress Zulu wore; it was already dirty and slightly tattered thanks to spending hours cuffed in the basement. Shoving the cloth into Zulu’s mouth she wrapped a section of tape around her mouth.
Zulu blocked out the rest when she blacked out from the pain.
XXXXX
With Jacqueline gone Uniform got up and began looking around. He started with the bedroom first as he was still there. It was nothing special as bedrooms went. Nothing fancy or elegant was inside the room. There had to be something that was an indication as to where they were being held. Forbes was a smart woman, that much was clear, but there was no way she was that smart.
He started with the bed; removing the blankets and mattress cover. But the mattress was not hiding anything as far as he could tell. Then he moved on to the nightstand. Opening the small drawer revealed absolutely nothing. Not even a speck of dust.
Squeaky clean, he thought. What else are you hiding, Wacky Jacky?
As he searched the rest of the bedroom he tapped his ear comm. to life and sent out a call.
“X, Del, India, Golf? Anyone listening?”
A chorus of worried replies filled his ear. He let out a relived sigh; hearing their voices. Uniform patiently waited until they calmed down a bit to say anything. Besides he didn’t have much to say in the first place. Knowing only that the building had a basement and a ground floor didn’t help matters much.
“Zee-Bee and I are fine. Well, so to speak. Forbes abducted us, which you probably already know, but we’re both fine.”
Oh, thank god, Delta said relieved.
Where are you guys? X-Ray asked.
“Not sure. I was sort of locked up in a basement for the past few hours.”
How did you get out? India asked; curious.
“Simple. Coitus.”
Do you have to be so pretentious that you can’t even say sex? Seriously? X-Ray asked with obvious annoyance.
Un. Is Zulu with you?
“No, Del. She’s still in the basement.” Uniform said with a sad sigh.
Just keep your comm. on so we can find you.
How are we going to do that without Zulu? Golf asked the others.
Silence fell over the conversation. No one realized how important Zulu was to their operations until that moment. She did everything that had to do with the comm. system. Fixing them when they broke, catching interference from power lines or cell phone calls, and preventing others from listening in on their conversations. So naturally this job would have fallen to her.
I don’t know, Golf, but we’re going to have to figure something out, Delta said.
XXXXX
The team had regrouped at the safe house. And they all sat around the living room deciding what to do. They had enough information to get Forbes and pin her. But the problem was they still had no idea where she was. And where she was keeping their teammates. Or if they were all in the same place.
They just got off the comm. after a conversation with Uniform. But it had not brought them any closer to finding him and Zulu.
“How are we supposed to find them anyway?” Golf asked.
“Same way we always have,” X-Ray said. “We do have two solutions to this problem, after all. The triple tap and the trackers. So we pick one and run with it.”
“Exactly what I was going to say,” Delta replied.
After a short deliberation the team decided to use the trackers. They were rather old and somewhat unreliable but they had more advantages than the triple tap. For instance the trackers would pinpoint the exact location. There was too much possible interference on the comm. link without Zulu there to monitor it.
Golf got his laptop out and opened up the tracking program.
Golf decided to start off big with an entire map of New York state. He hoped it would be easier that way. He typed in both Zulu and Uniform’s serial numbers. There was the possibility that Forbes was keeping them in separate locations. They did not have room for error at the moment. Which was asking quite a lot from Golf.
“You okay?” Delta asked.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said with a nod.
He was lying to both himself and to the others. He was not okay in any sense of the word. The pressure was too much and his heart was beating way faster than normal. He could feel it. Golf knew he wasn’t skilled enough to do his job on a normal day. But all the pressure and time strains made it so much worse.
“I’m fine. I swear.”
Staring at the screen he waited for the blips to appear on the city map.
“How long is this gonna take you think?” India asked him after a few minutes.
Golf didn’t answer.
“Let him work, Indy,” Delta said.
“I’m just asking him a question, babe.”
“Why don’t we go get something to eat?” X-Ray suggested.
“Good idea, X,” Delta said with a smile.
None of them had eaten since the others went missing. And almost an entire day had passed. There was too much going on to even think about eating. They all were getting irritable and tired. Food was needed and it was needed now.
X-Ray and Delta got up and started to leave.
India stared at Golf; waiting.
“C’mon, Indy. Let’s go.”
“Fine,” she grumbled.
“You want to come with us, Golf?”
He shook his head and focused on the screen. Delta promised to bring him back something. He didn’t pay her any attention. His mind barely registered the sound of the back door as it closed. Once again he was alone in the safe house. But this time he was far too focused to be bothered by it.
“I found them, Delta. I found them.”
“We’re on our way.”
XXXXX
Zulu got up and took a fighting stance. She was not going down this time. Not again. Forbes had gotten the better of them far too many times that night. Her hands were curled into fists and raised; ready to strike. Suddenly the door of the closet burst open with a bang. Zulu swung a harsh left hook at whoever was there.
“Ow!”
Wait a minute…
X? How in the hell?
X-Ray stepped further into the room and ripped the tape off Zulu’s mouth. She spit the fabric out with a disgusted gag.
“Holy shit, X! I didn’t think that was you! Sorry!”
“You’re fine, Zulu,” he said; holding his nose in pain.
“Did you guys find Un?”
He nodded; giving her a once over. She was hurt a lot worse than he thought she would have been. Her dress was torn and dirty, both her shoes and jewelry were missing, and holes were in her tights. Blood was caked around the pointer finger on her right hand. Scuff marks were all over her palms and knees. It looked like there was some blood on her legs.
“Del, Zulu needs first aid,” he said into his comm.
You’re right there.
“I… I think it might be better if you do it,” he said quietly.
Alright I’m coming.
“No!” Zulu yelled. “I can do it myself. Just give your aid kit, X.”
X-Ray nodded and slung his duffle off his shoulder. Kneeling down he opened the second to last zipper pocket. Reaching inside he grabbed hold of the first aid kit. He held it out to Zulu and felt her grab it harshly. He zipped the pocket back up and readjusted the bag to his shoulder.
“You hear that, Delta? She’s going to give herself first aid.”
Copy that.
“I’ll give you privacy,” he said before leaving.
Meanwhile the others were about the small house. India was in the living room with Forbes; keeping an eye on her. She was tied up and currently unconscious. Golf and Delta were searching the place for any other evidence they could use. X-Ray walked into the living room and relieved India of her post.
“Where’s Uniform?”
“In the shower,” India replied. “He needed to wash the stink of this garbage off of him.”
She nudged her head in Forbes’ direction when she said this garbage. X-Ray was just glad that Uniform was safe. That Zulu was as safe as okay as she was. But he was even gladder that India was leaving. He was going to give this disgusting excuse of a human being what she deserved. When Jacqueline Forbes came back around she was going to wish she was dead.
Luckily for him the Ketamine was almost through her system.
It was bad enough that she played them.
They weren’t the best so that happened a lot. So that wasn’t that bad actually. Everything else she did was what angered him. He hated what he did with every fiber of his being. But at the moment he was glad he had knowledge he did.
Forbes stirred and slowly came to.
He took a knife out of his side pocket. Gripping it tightly X-Ray clenched his teeth. He knew that Zulu would have wanted to kill this woman. But he did as well. He stabbed the knife into her thigh and she screamed in pain. She fully came to and started crying for him to stop. X-Ray just smiled. Reaching into the front pocket of his duffle he took out a pair of pliers.
"You took her nail. I'm going to take all of yours."
A few minutes after he took her left hand pinky finger nail everyone came back to the room. Uniform was clean and showered. Zulu was still messy but as cleaned up as she could have been. She had done a pretty good job giving herself first aid after all. India, Delta and Golf had found a couple boxes full of paper evidence. And there was still the Macbook and Forbes' email. They had enough to justify anything.
“Are we going to let her live?” Zulu asked.
The others did not know exactly what had happened to her but they could tell that Zulu really wanted Forbes to die. Or to spend the rest of her life in pain. And that she deserved the worst possible punishment. Whatever they chose the punishment would not be enough.
“Do it,” India said.
“She deserves it.”
Zulu took a gun from X-Ray and cocked it. She put the muzzle against Forbes’ head. Her finger slowly closed around the trigger. Forbes stared at her with pleading eyes. Tears ran down the woman’s face as she pleaded with them to let her go. Just as she was about to full pull the trigger Zulu stopped.
Zulu dropped her gun hand to her side.
She turned to Delta and whispered something in her ear. The others looked at her with confused expressions. She just brought a finger to her lips. She was not going to give the secret away just yet. After a few minutes Delta came back inside with a couple of shovels in her hands.
Forbes’ eyes went wide in shock; “No! Please! Don’t!”
“Just shoot me, please,” she cried.
Zulu pulled her head back by a clump of hair. Pained tears rolled down the woman’s face. Zulu just smiled down at her.
“I made a promise and I tend to keep them.”
XXXXX
A few hours later Zulu dumped the last shovel of dirt on to the makeshift grave. They had dug it in the backyard of the safe house. It had taken them a few hours to dig the grave and to refill it with the woman inside. No one would have gone looking for Ms. Jacqueline Forbes in such a bad area. No one would find her for years. Even if they cared to look.
They all sat around the yard; tired and ready to go home.
Zulu spit on the pile of dirt. Uniform got up from the rock he was sitting on and walked over to her. Pulling her into an embrace he kissed her on the top of her head. Tears pricked at her eyes once again. But this time they were tears of joy. She was just happy to finally be out of that hell of a night. Uniform reached up and wiped them away with a finger.
X-Ray had stated gathering the shovels. With a two to a hand he walked them to the car. It was a bit too much seeing Zulu and Uniform like that giving the circumstances of things. And given the things he felt.
“You two will be okay, right?” Golf asked. “I mean you can’t have sunshine without having rain. Right?”
Delta, who sat next to India on the back porch, started singing;
I don't mind, no I don't mind, I don't mind the rain
The simple things and subtleties they always stay the same
I don't mind, that I don't mind, no I don't mind the rain
Like a widow's heart
We fall apart
But never fade away
They all sat around watching the sun rise and once they were finished India called Stevens for an extraction.
“Does he know what happened?” Golf asked; worried.
“No. And I intend to keep it that way.”
The gang walked around to the front of the house. Piling inside the car they were all tired and covered in dirt. Delta and India were in the front seats. X-Ray and Golf were in the middle two seats; on opposite sides of the car. Uniform and Zulu sat all the way in the back; intending on getting some much needed sleep. This mission had taken a tool on the both of them and they needed much more than a nap.
Zulu leaned her head on Uniform’s shoulder.
“Smells like someone needs a shower,” Uniform said curling up his nose.
She laughed lightly and nodded. It was true. She had to admit that she smell pretty bad; blood, urine and dirt. Not a very good combo.
“I don’t want to ever fucking do that again,” Zulu whispered quietly.
“Don’t worry. You won’t.”
#oc story#oc short story#oc short#india company#agent india#agent delta#agent xray#agent uniform#agent zulu#agent golf#zuni#inta#tw violence#tw death#tw blood#tw swearing
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