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the-headbop-wraith · 3 years

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Two agonizing days.

Vivi didn’t mind, but waiting made her anxious when she knew they had hours of driving ahead and a destination at the end of a long road. It couldn’t be helped that Arthur had to take the time out to repair the damage to his arm – or take the time to work many long hours, and then finally decide the arm on its own was worthless, and the surviving parts were better off cannibalized for a newish prosthetic. Arthur rarely worked from scratch on his replacements, as he took what he got in regards to putting something functional together. Vivi didn’t bother him a whole lot during the process, opting to knit away the time with other priorities such as making the necessary preparations for the long drive between here and eventual.

Each time Vivi stopped by to deliver some food and remind Arthur eating was essential, she saw the progress of his new arm. At first it was one model and it hardly looked anything near to human anatomy, it resembled more of an insect limb with colorful wires and rods still steaming with solder. Then there came to be two, and one was taking the shape of an arm through the section plates Arthur was attaching over the wires and motor parts.

“It’s looking good,” Vivi said, as they shared a lunch. They sat at a cluttered beat up coffee table, two couches facing each other on either side of it. It was in the break room of the car garage of Kingsman Mechanics, owned by Arthur’s uncle and employer. One wall was fixed up for a quick meal preparation zone, complete with particle cabinets and a counter top with a sink set. Beside the short counter was a small fridge, and atop the fridge was a microwave. The walls were soundproofed, but still the distant howl of work and hydraulic squeal crept in. “Are you trying some of the new connectors, to get more sensation?”

Arthur glanced up from the fries he was picking at. He raised one to his head where Galahad sat, tangled in his unruly hair. “Naw,” he said. Galahad tilted on his wheels as he took the fry and began munching, no mind to the fact the hamster was getting ketchup in Arthur’s hair. Arthur then returned his lone arm to the large, triple meat burger Vivi had brought. “This time I’m focused on strengthening the elbow, but going for more range of movement.” He took a bite and worked on that for a moment, barely swallowing before he went on. “I’m not sure how much tension to allot the joint, to keep it from cracking.”

Vivi wiped Mystery’s mouth off, before allowing the dog to return to his burger. Vivi poked through the magazines left on the coffee table amongst plastic bags and Styrofoam containers. Most the magazines were the norm – mechanics digest, some body builders. She found one for medical, and the issue for prosthetics with the edges of the pages worn to tatters. She noted the date on the front page before looking up to meet Arthur’s eyes as he watched her.

Since the conversation was diverted in the van, they had tiptoed around matters concerning Lewis. Arthur hadn’t asked about him in all the times Vivi came by, and Vivi wasn’t sure what to make of that. If Arthur knew simply by her appearance, or where the nature of the conversation would delve if Uncle Lance stumbled in on them while they discussed their ‘late’ friend. Thinking back on all the times she could recall, Vivi never once had heard Lance mention Lewis. But who would bring up a topic of a loss on the spot? But there are a many that would avoid or refuse to acknowledge such issues, forget and move on was sometimes easiest.

“Take your time,” Vivi said. She began offering Mystery her fries one at a time, and Mystery snapped them up in turn. “I’m still doing some research before I make a route.”

Arthur nodded. “Uh, Lance also has a few jobs for me,” he said. “So it’s taken longer than I estimated in the first place. Is that all right?”

“Of course,” Vivi huffed. “I’m not jeopardizing your only stable job.”

Arthur blinked. He pinned his burger down with his knuckles and deftly tore off a piece of meat, which he offered to Galahad. “I don’t think he’d fire me, unless I blew up the shop….” His voice trailed off, and Arthur managed a grim sneer. “Again.”

Vivi gave a dry laugh. No, that wasn’t funny.

Professionally, Arthur could duck out of his main income by taking service up with Vivi’s Mystery Skulls, as the onboard mechanic. By ‘contract’ Arthur received a percentage of pay for their assignments, plus a little extra whenever the van crapped out. A simple handshake would have sufficed for Arthur, but Vivi insisted they make it official. The contract consisted of a napkin shoved into the glove compartment, and maybe to this day it is still there.

Through the glassed side of the break room, Vivi spied Uncle Lance sneaking out. She decided he was sneaking, or up to something. Vivi stood and collected her trash, and told Arthur to finish all of his food before he returned to work. Arthur was prone to forgetting halfway through a meal when an idea struck him, and leave his food to grow cold and moldy while he worked away. If Vivi gave a stern reminder, he was more than likely to consume nearly all his food before he took off.

“And don’t make Galahad finish it for you,” where Vivi’s last words. She excused herself and Mystery, ignoring Arthur’s exasperated expression, and Galahad’s dismay. Vivi dumped her trash in the garbage bin beside the door and stepped out through the garages main work zone.

Since they had returned to Kingsman Mechanics, Uncle Lance had been pushing to do some maintenance work on the van before they took off again. Each time Vivi denied with the excuse that she had work to do, and, Arthur could probably fit in a quick check up when he had the chance. That was ill planned, and Lance had called her on it. Still, she kept on that she did have errands to run and wanted to get that out of the way before the van was looked over, in case she forgot something.

Such as locking the doors.

Vivi saw Lance duck out of the driver’s side, and move to the front of the van to pop the hood. Mystery took off before her, and she called for Lance as she raced over. “Hey! What are you doing?” Vivi tried to hide the note of alarm in her voice.

Lance wore his dark coat, come rain or summer, and the tool belt around his waist worn that was stained from years of use. He didn’t pay Vivi much mind as he leaned over the engine and scanned over the tubes and wires at his fingers. “Just a quick look,” he said. “Put my mind to ease, huh?”

“I told you to wait!” Vivi snapped. She wasn’t tall, but she straightened herself up as much as she could and crossed her arms. Mystery barked beside her in his, have you no respect, tone.

“I’m not confining you to the shop,” Lance assured. He chewed on the toothpick between his teeth as he turned his eyes back to the engine. “Hmm, need an oil change, some sparkplugs could do with replacing. Lemme get a new belt, this one’s looking shabby.” He leaned over, nearly into the carriage as he tapped around. “It’s about time we rotated those tires, isn’t it? You drive to the moon and back every day.”

“You didn’t mess with anything in the van?” Vivi asked. She followed Mystery when he hoped up through the open driver side door. The white dog flashed out of sight when he leapt up into the back.

“Naw,” Lance said. “That’s yer kids department. It’s your office, and I have no business going back there.”

The front of the van was warm and stuffy from sitting in the noontime sun. Vivi peered over the seat into the back interior and saw that the black box was gone. Frail wisps of the frigid air hung in the shadows, and Vivi wanted to reach out and catch it but there was no way of grasping what cannot be seen. Like chasing radical dreams. She leaned over the back seat to watch Mystery go around the perimeter of the walls, head down and ears twisting but it was apparent he was finding nothing. Mystery stopped when he reached the space where the box had sat, and turned to look at her.

“Uncle Lance,” Vivi began. She rested her head on the warm seat for a moment, before slipping back out of the driver’s side. “Did you know Lewis well?” There was a span of silence, before the hood of the van cracked as it slammed down. Vivi whipped to where Lance stood, his hands still gripping the top of the hood and staring at her hard. “Hmm?”

Lance uncoiled, slipping from his stance and dragged his gloved hands from the vans front. “I knew him,” he said. “But not like you and Art did. It was tragic, what happen to him. What’s Art been telling you?”

Vivi couldn’t discern if Lance was aware of her amnesia, or if he was trying to dodge the subject. “We’ve just been talking,” she said. Mystery appeared from over the driver seat, skidding down to sit beside Vivi. “Kind of going back.” She stared up at Lance as he moved along the side van until he stood before her. She didn’t flinch, even when he quickly clasped a hand to her shoulder.

“Don’t totter over that piece of history too much, love.” When Lance spoke, there was a tone of pain in his voice that was as audible, as if he was ready to cry. Vivi couldn’t remember ever seeing Uncle Lance, a sturdy figure in their life, breaking down and crying. But she felt it. And she felt the knot of confusion and agony, as if she had missed something important and it angered her how lost she was to the company of the subject. She wanted to know, but they avoided it. They kept her away. “It is a pain no one should burden,” he ended. Lance took his arm from Vivi’s shoulder, and walked away.

The paradox of Lance setting an oil stained hand upon any person or object never ceased to boggle Vivi’s mind. Nor the factor that whenever he removed the hand, no stain or evidence remained that he had ever been present. Vivi watched through the passenger side, as Lance staggered across the parking lot back to the side doors that entered into the garage shops main work zone.

“Hey.”

Vivi jolted in place to the hollow voice that echoed out of nowhere, and to the shape now leaning over the front seat just above Mystery’s head. She grabbed her chest as her heart lurched in her ribs. “Shit,” Vivi hissed. “Don’t do that!” She swiped out her hand, trying to connect with the skull but Lewis merely let his head rise out of range and her hand passed through where his neck would have been.

“Sorry.” There was smugness in his voice. “You okay?” All smugness dried up when Vivi climbed up onto the driver’s seat and wrapped her arms around Lewis’ shoulders. Mystery gave a yelp and ducked over into the passenger seat. “Vi, wait!” Lewis lunged forward as Vivi tumbled backwards, arms looped around the stunned skull. Vivi groaned when she fell back onto the warm asphalt behind her, the skull still clutched to her chest. Lewis’ decapitated body hung out of the driver seat, arms draped over the footstep of the van. “Tried to warn you,” his voice muttered, from somewhere. He gestured to Vivi on the ground.

“I should have known better,” Vivi retorted. She forced herself to sit up and looked down at the skull in her arms. Bright eye sockets gazed back up at her, and everything about the visage from the poof of magenta hair to the teeth seemed much more solid. “Incubator.”

“Come again?” The voice seemed to come from the skull, but at the same time it came from the suit, and just as well it came from nowhere exactly. It seemed to reverberate in Vivi’s mind, warm and pleasant.

“Incubator,” Vivi repeated, as if that would clarify. “Arthur called you an incubator.”

“That’s all good and well,” Lewis said. The skull narrowed its brow and the eyes brightened in the hollow sockets. “Care to explain? Mystery! Get off me! C’mon now.”

The body jerked its shoulders, forcing the Mystery dog perched on the torsos backside to bounce off with a yap.

Vivi climbed to her feet and somehow managed to scoot Lewis’ body over in the vans seat without the use of her arms, and shut the door after her. She explained the coffin that had taken temporary residence in the back of the van, and the collective unease it had given she and Arthur. Not because the coffin disturbed them, not at all, but they were worried for his wellbeing. The nearest they had concluded of the coffin’s significance was sleeping but… why a coffin? And was it actual sleeping, in whatever sense it took?

They sat in silence for the next few minutes. Vivi still held the skull tightly in her arms, and the body sat next to her with Mystery slumped over his lap.

“This is the first time in a long time that I could wrap my arms around you,” Vivi said. “Not since we were kids.” The skull said nothing, just stared over at Vivi’s shoulder as if in deep concentration. Vivi gave him a few more minutes, before asking if he wanted his head back?

“I’m good,” Lewis hummed. “I was just— You saw the coffin?” The flames in his eye sockets perked up to her face, as if he’d never heard of a coffin before.

“Yeah,” Vivi said. “I’m not going to ask this time.”

“Thanks.” Then Lewis was back to inner debate. Viv noted the hand of his body was rubbing absentmindedly at one of Mystery’s ears, and Mystery didn’t perk or seem to care. In fact, Mystery’s eyes slowly closed, evidently content. “I didn’t mean for you to see the coffin,” Lewis said. “I knew you probably wouldn’t get around to doing the laundry, you were really tired. But I didn’t mean to, hmm….” His voice trailed off.

“You were scared?” Vivi said, in an accusing note.

“No,” Lewis hissed. He refused to look at her.

“Lonely?” Vivi chimed. She hugged the skull more to her chest and rested her head atop the soft poof of – what she had decided were flames at some point – but it was soft and not like fire, and didn’t have the texture of hair.

“Maybe,” Lewis said. “No. It’s different, I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I think I get it,” Vivi reasoned. “But I don’t readily understand either. Hmm.”

“Hmm,” Lewis hummed along.

Vivi watched the brick wall of the Kingsman Mechanic’s building in front of them. She heard the once every – other minute car coast by on the road that sat before the garage shop. It was a little before five o’clock rush hour she estimated, a few more minutes and customers would start to arrive in flocks to pick up vehicles, their days work concluded. “You miss your mansion?” Vivi asked. The pause that followed was not encouraging.

“Yeah,” Lewis says. “But not because I raised the place. It was all I had.” He became quiet, and Vivi pressed no more questions. “Did you see what happen to my deadbeats?”

“Deadbeats?” Vivi said, looking down to the skulls blazing eye sockets. “The spirits that chased us?” Lewis made a sound that sputtered, and seemed to reverberate in the silent radio of the van. She took the pitch as a confirmation. “Faded. Crossed over. I’m not sure. I’m no master of reading ambiguous visage of spirits, but they seemed fine with it.” Lewis was silent for another span of time.

Outside the windshield, the sun began to fade behind the surrounding buildings as dusk approached and the air began to chill. Vivi watched the shadows grow longer and sweep over the front of the van, until a soft tinge of pink brushed over her sweater and the window glass beside her shoulder. It was then that Vivi realized Lewis hadn’t been staring at her shoulder, he was keeping a lookout should someone approach outside the window. Or maybe he was just staring off into the distance.

“To be fair,” Lewis began, “I didn’t tell then to chase you or Mystery.” Mystery opened an eye a crack at the mention of his name. “I told them to chase Arthur. You just happen to be in the wrong place, wrong time.”

Vivi glared down at the gleaming eyes inside the skull. “That was cruel,” she scolded. Lewis made a gruff sound that echoed in the cold radio, and may have said something Vivi’s sharp ears, attuned to the paranormal, was able to catch. Lewis eyes flashed over to the window and the vibrant fire inside the eye sockets dimmed.

“Cars, cars,” Lewis chattered. “People! I need my head.”

Vivi sighed. “Of course.” And tossed his skull into the back of the van.

Lewis’ body sputtered and jerked up, upsetting the dog snoozing over his lap. “Vi! What— Why?” The torso scooted over in evident panic, as Vivi opened the driver side door and slipped out.

“I’m still mad at you!” she snapped, before slamming the door shut on Lewis.

“What? What!” Lewis screamed, reaching for the door, before remembering he was in no state to go anywhere. A car pulled up in the parking space one over from the van, and Lewis flung his body over the bench seat into the vans darkened back. “This is unfair!”

Mystery popped his head over the backseat, a bit dazed from the commotion but recovering. He assessed the cause of alarm and hopped over the bench seat and joined Lewis fumbling in the back.

“She acts like I was the one that MURDERED!” Lewis shrieked. The sound was hellish and caused the van to ignite with momentary life, lamp lights pulsing and blazing yellow on the brick wall before them, engine roaring, windshield wipers sweeping and stopping in half motion.

Mystery moved over and sat down beside Lewis’ torso. The dog slanted his brows over the amber glasses he wore, and flattened his ears. This was all not necessary, but he supposed Lewis couldn’t help it.

Lewis’ body turned to the dog, hunched over in the back of the van and barely able to keep from sinking through the floor. Even without his head Lewis was still tall, and hunched over beneath the low ceiling. Though he was in no danger of being spied on by curious newcomers, another outburst from Lewis caused the radio of the van to crackle with soft rock from the radio station Vivi had elected earlier that day.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Lewis screeched. “It’s complicated. I guaranteed Arthur would have survived! That was the extent of my restraint!”

Mystery rolled his eyes. Shoving off his rear legs, the dog leapt up and snared the purple tie at Lewis’ collar. Lewis buckled forward to the unexpected weight of Mystery leading, hauling him down.

“Mystery! Bad! Leggo! Mystery!” Lewis pressed his palms to the floor of the van and pushed, but Mystery dug his claws into the short plush and jerked back, snarling in his throat. “Why? Why!” Lewis reached out to snag him, but the dog released the tie and kicked away, then retreated a few steps out of the spirits reach. As Mystery hung back watching, Lewis spun around and leaned over. When he spun back the skull had resumed post above his collar, eye sockets gleaming and magenta flames bristling down his shoulders and back until the van was filled with a harsh fuchsia glow. “I’d stop if I were you.”

Mystery inched back, quiet, contemplative. His shoulders twitch when he gives a small yip and leaps over the bench seat, into the front of the van. Mystery nosed at the door on the passenger side, before bouncing over the seat at the driver side door. Both were locked and Mystery pawed at the door latch, trying to loop his paw through the pull handle. His claws scratching over the latch without traction, and there was little space between the handle and the door to hook his paw in easily.

The fire along Lewis’ shoulders flutters as it diminishes, the back of the van becoming dark as it was before. He watched Mystery struggle with the door, and felt his own fists clench tightly. “What is wrong with me? Damn it.”

After several failed attempts, the dog surrenders to simplicity and leans over to bite at the door handle. Mystery jerks back when Lewis reaches over, and grips the door handle before Mystery can get his teeth on it. Lewis is careful only to reach over the seat and kept his shape out of sight in the driver side window, while more cars roll up to fill the parking lot.

“I’m sorry,” Lewis says. “I don’t know what gets into me.” He pulls the handle, unlatching the door before he pushes the door open all the way. Mystery doesn’t waste his time in jumping out. “Vivi could be right. I might be scared. But,” Lewis detects Mystery’s still there, though timid. “I’ve never been afraid before. No.”

It was difficult for Lewis to admit that he, while investigating with his friends, had ever been fearful of what a case could offer in terms of danger. While running around investigating disappearances, cult activities, hostile spirits, his personal wellbeing was a moot concern. But… he had been afraid for his friends. The idea of them coming to harm did give him many restless nights. Still, Lewis felt that he had control over the situation. He would make sure no one was hurt or scared, and that they were never left behind. In those days, he had been there for them. He had always made sure he would be there, through thin or thick, dark or dreary, bleak or miserable. It didn’t matter what it took, and he’d always felt confident in his abilities. Looking back, it had been reckless.

Lewis settles down on the floor behind the driver side seat, passively letting his flames fade into his coat and collar as he watched the stars appear as only he could envision stars. He envisioned galaxies and suns, planets and worlds beyond his grasp. All swirling endlessly into the infinite pace that moved time, coasting through dark matter and scraping by the cusp of existence. He felt molten seas sizzle and roar, gases burbling and erupting in geysers of red and gray. Then ice. Fields of ice, sheets of endless glaciers chattering as the surface shifts, the only sounds echoing in a landscape void of wind. The endless blue shimmers with white slates like mirrors, opening into a chasm of the vacant abyss gazing and judging into the void of the universe.

Suddenly there is so much blue. Cold blue sea. It takes a moment for Lewis to return to himself, eye sockets brightening with pink flame. “Ah….”

Vivi frowns down at him. “You weren’t sleeping, were you?” she asks, a little concerned. They were all so concerned about each other lately, each of them fitted with dull ice skates dancing on china plates.

“No.” Lewis sits up and turns to Vivi. “I was just… thinking.”

Vivi hummed. “Careful. Great thoughts require great responsibility,” she says, with a smile.

“If I remember correctly—” Lewis is cut off when Vivi slaps a hand to the front of his teeth. It didn’t hinder his speech in anyway, but the gesture was recognized.

“Don’t ruin that for me,” Vivi mutters. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Lewis pushed her hand away and leaned a little over, raising himself to inspect the lack of sound and activity in the parking lot. “I wasn’t happy, let me put it that way,” he said. Lewis saw no one, and the parking lot was very dark but for the street lamps along the sidewalk soaking the edges of the black asphalt with canary yellow.

“I’m not sorry,” Vivi said, crossing her arms. “However, I am sorry to ask: It was getting late, and I wanted to get back into Kingsman, but Lance locked the door. Is there a way you can get in?”

Perched behind Vivi’s feet was Mystery, just staring up at Lewis. Lewis adjusted his shoulders and began to fiddle with his tie, fitting it back into his suit. “I could manage something,” Lewis said. “Can you give me one moment, though?”

Vivi scowled. “Sure. But why?” She stepped back as Lewis took the door’s edge, and without an answer swung the door shut. He slapped the pin down and ducked out of sight. Vivi looked along the amber side of the dusty vehicle, as if she could see through walls and would learn what it was the ghost had bought time for. She turned and looked down at Mystery, but Mystery merely gave her his own dubious glance and raised his shoulders.

After too many minutes had passed, Vivi began to lose patience and was about to start banging on the vans side. The back door opened, and out glides Lewis. He set his feet to the asphalt and checked to make certain he had his heels down, then turned to inspect his palms and frowned.

“Oh,” Vivi said, upon seeing the face cloaking bone. “You should have said something.”

“And ruin the surprise?” Lewis asked, as he swung the door shut. He paused as his chest expanded, and he let out a crackly sound. “How was that?”

Vivi smirked as she approached him, and squint her eyes to one side. “Pretty good,” she says. “But it sounds weird. I like it, but it’ll confuse people I think.”

“I’ll work on it.” Lewis glanced down at Mystery still keeping behind Vivi. “Where’s this door then?” He waited for Vivi to walk pass him, before letting his outer visage echo his inner pang.

The Kingsman Mechanics shop ended, but the brick wall that made up its side continued and connected with the building behind it. There was a metal gate in the wall about halfway between the two buildings, which led into a large back alley for scrap parts and was fitted with barbed wire on both the gates top and bottom, and more barbed wire was curled along the top of the high brick wall. A chain and padlock was wrapped around the adjoining bars of the gate, but the lock was not secured. Vivi pulled the padlock off and undid the chain and slid one gate aside, allowing Mystery through. She looked at Lewis when he stepped up, as she began to close the gate.

“Sorry,” Vivi said, and stepped aside as Lewis stepped through to join them. “When you project your alive appearance, does it prevent you from phasing through walls?”

Lewis glanced back as Vivi secures the chain, and fixed the padlock in place. “No,” he said. “Not at all, I don’t think,” and he sounded dubious, as if he never thought over it. “But I don’t want to get into the habit of it and forget.” He looked across the alley, and the collection of rusted and forgotten parts of engines and old tanks abandoned beside the wall. “What if Arthur’s already asleep?”

“He’s not,” Vivi assures, as she walks past Lewis. “That’s why we’re here.”

Lewis turned to give Mystery a look when the dog lingered at the gate. Mystery perked up his ears at the gaze and darted off to rejoin Vivi, as she weaves around the machine parts and the stains on the sidewalk. With a crackle like static Lewis followed them, silent and displeased.

The back alley is heavy with thick fumes of congealed grease, oil, and diesel fumes. Vivi leads the way around the discarded scrap, a few tarps covering engines and replacement equipment, until they come to a steel door set in the buildings backside. Vivi waits as Lewis gives the reinforced door a brief inspection. Lewis raises his hands and looks at his palms, before turning his hands to the doors surface and seems to forcibly shove himself through as if attempting to barrel the doors itself down. He fades through the steel surface with a purple-pink outline trailing around his shapes, as he soaks through the door. Vivi knelt down to give Mystery a few comforting strokes, before she hears the latch of the door echo.

“Open sez’me,” Lewis quipped. He opened the door more as Vivi stepped through, followed by Mystery.

The interior of the shop was darker than viscous ink, and the black seemed to thicken when Lewis shut the door behind them. “Hold on, don’t move,” Lewis voice echoed around Vivi’s ears. There was such force to the tone she obeyed without a sound, though standing within the suffocating murk was disconcerting. She briefly saw Lewis dart by, a line of pink fire trailing after his eyes and his gold-bluish locket thudding on his chest. He moved somewhere, but Vivi couldn’t see exactly where he had vanished.

“Can you see?” Vivi asked, when nothing happens. And no answer comes. “Lew?”

“Sort of,” his voice, from somewhere. The nature of his voice and the method it traveled by made it impossible to identify its origin point. “I found a switch,” Lewis said.

Vivi flinched when the light came on, not far from where she and Mystery stood. She blinked the remainder of the shade from her eyes as Lewis glides back to them. It was one of the phosphorus lamps above a work bench, a truck parked beside it. The garage had numerous vehicles parked inside for the evening, the large shutter doors drawn down and the endless black visible through the pristine clear glass window in each door. Everything was eerily quiet, as if the world beyond had just stopped.

Except for the low peeping sound that tapered up and down the white washed walls. Lewis stood beside Vivi taking in their surroundings, judging what was changed and what had remained the same since his last visit to Kingsman Mechanics. He liked the new white walls, they seemed to brighten the place up and made the light travel to the furthest corners of the interior garage. Did Lance remodel the place? A lot of everything looked newer or brighter, or maybe he wasn’t focused enough.

The strange resonance faded and swelled at odd intervals, yet altogether seemed to be coming from every corner of the open floorplan of the garage. Lewis edged forward, aware that the sound was coming closer to them. His eyes brightened like stars as he scanned for the possible threat. Whatever it was, it didn’t sound human. He glared down and felt the energy of his form pucker with anticipation, as the source of the sound began to pinpoint not far from them. Lewis winced when a small orange ball on wheels scuttled into view. His eyes dimmed on the thing. The ball of fluff gazed back with large glossy eyes and blinked.

“Galahad!” Vivi said. She brushed past Lewis to where the small creature was squatted, still staring up at the tall specter.

“Gala— what?” Lewis stammered. He drew back when Vivi had picked up the little orange puff and presented it to his face. “A hamster?” Indeed, a hamster that sported a familiar hairstyle on the area between its dark ears, and a set of wheels where its back legs should be.

“Galahad. Like from the Arthurian legends,” Vivi explained, as she gave the hamster a gentle cuddle under her chin. “He was one of the Knights of the Round Table.”

“The hamster?” Lewis asked.

“No, the knight,” Vivi snapped. She smirked as Lewis smiled back. “What’s up Galaham? Did Arthur make it to bed?” To the mentioned of Arthur’s name, the hamster’s head perked and he began peeping. Mystery padded over to Vivi and stared up at the hamster as the small orange puff rotated his wheels, all the while turning his head to one direction of the garage. “Okay-okay,” Vivi cooed, and set Galahad down. “Where is he?”

Mystery snapped his ears up as Galahad took off. Mystery gave Vivi a quick glimpse before he sprang after the wheelie hamster.

“He’s probably in his work room,” Vivi said, as she followed the two racing off. “That’s on the other side of the garage, upstairs.” Lewis followed Vivi, and Mystery followed the swift orange blur as Galahad zipped under shelves and a few carts topped with heavy equipment. It was near impossible to keep up with the squeal of Galahad’s tires as he zipped through shadows, the sound of his wheels on the hard walls came from all sides of the room. But Vivi already knew Galahad’a destination. Or so she thought.

Vivi hurried to the far side of the garage, into a smaller section segregated by a wall with a large shutter door. Meanwhile, Lewis exerted no effort in keeping up with Vivi’s hurried steps, but he did pause occasionally to flip on a light and keep the hamster’s direction lit. The light barely traveled through the shutter door, but Vivi could make out the bottom of the cement steps just around the doorframe. She hastened up the steps to the dim light of the floor above, and Lewis glides ahead to the top, both leaving Galahad to begin working up the numerous large steps from below.

Also left behind, Mystery trotted up to the hamster and only paused to lean down and grip one wheel between his teeth before he sprang up the steps four and five at a time. When Mystery reached the top he set Galahad down and raised his head high to bark, pacing back and forth at the top step and waiting for Vivi and Lewis to catch his signal.

Vivi skid to a halt, and Lewis plopped down to skid through the floor by his heels. “Not in his work room?” Vivi murmured. She dashed back to the two, Lewis right on her heel.

This time they followed Galahad, even so it was a struggle to keep pace. Though it was only the corridor they were headed down, across to the other end of the garage. “Galahad’s usually this excitable, right?” Lewis asked. “It’s just a hamster thing?” Vivi said nothing, and Lewis internally cursed.

Galahad took an abrupt turn, squeezing through a door left ajar and parked himself right beside the doorframe as his companions spilled through. He gave a small chirp and directed an arm to the room before them. Mystery wriggled between Vivi and Lewis and took a position on the opposite wall, he scanned over the shelves and the disaster set before them. A soft whine escaped the dog as his ears tucked back along his head.

“Oh geez,” Lewis hissed.

The room had a few metal shelves, each filled with boxes, some machinery, and an assortment of colorful and curly tubes. Before the center line of shelves was a workbench marred by every burn, scrape, dent, and cut imaginable. Cords were attached to socket plugs fixed above in the low ceiling, extending down to the work bench and the racks fixed to the metal shelves behind the worktable. Solder tools, buzz saws, and sets of pliers from miniscule tweezers to massive monkey wrenches had been littered over the surface of the cluttered worktable, but most seemed to have found suitable stations across the floor. Tools and pieces of equipment were scattered around the metal arm left clamped, and somehow still intact, upon the worktables marred top. Half the room was cast in long disfigured shadows, due to one work light that was knocked from one of its tether which left it to dangle sideways, still and amenable.

Stuffed into one of the lowest cuvees of the metal shelves, amongst clutter and beside a pool of oil marinating on the floor, was a pair of red stained pants.

Lewis rattled something and swooped away from Vivi in a sudden gust. He perched beside the shelf, careful of the oil, and with another hissing sound Lewis reached up under the shelf and carefully tugged Arthur out by his good arm. Vivi skipped over, avoiding the pieces and parts that had been thrown across the floor. Lewis maneuvered away from the glossy oil mess before he settled down and shook Arthur by his torso, his blazing eyes occasionally cast over the blackened and red sleeve.

“Damn it Art, wake up,” Lewis hissed. He let Arthur’s body sag over his thigh and shook harder, but never enough to jostle and break what few joints remained. “Speak to me. C’mon, answer!” Lewis supported Arthur’s back with one hand and set his other hand over Arthur’s face and felt for a breath. Faint but not encouraging. He gripped Arthur’s chin and shook his head, in an effort to restrain himself from slapping the hell out of the comatose figure. “Arthur! ARTHUR. I need a sign, a response! Or so help me—” Lewis twitched when Vivi set a hand on his shoulder. He was about to snap something at her, when a low moan came from the sorry sack of human remains. Lewis glared down. He didn’t once allow himself the thought that he may appear terrifying, eyes black with rosy fire burning in their sockets. In fact, Lewis didn’t give a flying fuck. He needed to make sure Arthur was still there, in some sense or another.

Arthur’s eyes scrunch tighter before opening a crack. His vest was removed, and numerous small blotches of grease or some other odd colors stained his once white shirt, and a yellow-black ring was in his empty shoulder sleeve where his arm should be. But Arthur’s eyes opened, struggled to take in light and sights while he picked up on muffled sound. Above his face he saw the sharp stabs of white light and a dark face, eyes blazing and unforgiving. There were other shapes and shades bobbing around, but not as clear, not as focused as the visage staring.

One of Arthur’s eyes snapped open and fixed on the face. “L-Lewis?” he burbled, reaching out his only arm. “It’s you, isn’t it? Lewis? You came back.”

Lewis hesitates. Arthur was… Arthur was someplace else. His expression was calm, collecting slowly, but his aura was in five different directions, twisting and wriggling to find a suitable station in which to settle. It unnerved Lewis. “Hey,” Lewis hummed, almost melodic, gentle and sturdy. “A little more, Arty.”

Arthur’s other eye pried open slowly, and recognition swung heavily through his broken expression. The eyes became hollow as his mind drifted, Lewis felt Arthur’s mind dive into somewhere distant. A dark place, cold— No. Icy and dank. The air tinged with decay, rolls of sharp vapor nested among rocks and dirt, noxious gas seeping through damp stone.

“Careful,” Lewis said.

Arthur snapped his arm out and took hold of Lewis sharp collar, gripping the wispy fabric for dear life. There was anger and focus in Arthur’s eyes, and he tightened his fist into Lewis collar and would never, ever let go. Through clenched teeth Arthur muttered, “Gotcha.”

Lewis let his eyes trail away. He nearly turned to check Vivi, when Arthur let out a gurgled sob. Lewis returned his focus to Arthur, as the other hauled himself up by his arm and pressed his head into Lewis’ chest. “I’m sorry,” Arthur whimpered. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” That’s all he said, over and over. Arthur pressed his face harder into Lewis’ chest taking in short breaths, only to refuel his mantra. “I tried to grab you. I meant to grab you, but… stupid. I saw you fall. I watched you FALL. I watched.” Arthur couldn’t do much but curl down over his good arm. “I… used the wrong arm. I did it wrong, I fucked up. I fucked it all up. I can’t— couldn’t fix it. Couldn’t fix….”

Vivi looked around at all the parts and pieces scattered, and looked back to Galahad and Mystery by the doorway. Lewis followed her eyes over the floor, where a few wires were scattered, a bent pair of pliers and the spilled oil, among the superficial evidence of unrestrained fury with no target, no outlet. Just direction.

It was all so familiar. Like a distant dream, in a different world. Galaxies away. A lifetime ago.

Lewis wrapped his arms around Arthur and pulled him up, but Arthur tensed and bawled harder. “Don’t kill me,” he yelped, trying to push away from Lewis. “Don’t kill…. sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Quiet Arty,” Lewis hissed. He squeezed Arthur a little more and glared across the room at nothing in particular, except perhaps the few bits of metal as if they had any responsibility over Arthur’s current state. “Just shh,” Lewis continued, a little softer. “No one’s going to kill you.” Arthur was a complete mess, arm limp and face pressed into Lewis’ collar. “Art. Would you listen to me?” Arthur said nothing, but he slumped into Lewis’ a little more and his sharp breaths had lessened, accompanied by the timid hiccup. “I don’t want you to fall. I don’t want you to follow me.” Lewis glanced back over his shoulder a bit, when he picked up on Vivi slipping down to sit beside them.

Arthur mumbled something and seemed to hide in Lewis’ arms a little more, if that was possible.

“Do you see that?” Lewis said. He glared at the floor, the shimmering puddle of oil where his reflection wavered. Lewis pondered with no solution, and no way to say the words Arthur may need to hear. I can’t. I won’t. He coiled around Arthur more. “There’s a pit.” He winced when Arthur trembled and sobbed harder. “But listen, Arthur. We should head back,” he said, trying to recall his last words as a living, breathing person. “We’ll regroup.”

“Lewis, no,” Arthur choked. “No-no.”

“I’m not falling,” Lewis hummed. “We’re not falling. It’s okay, open your eyes.” Lewis refused to loosen his hold on Arthur, until the broken figure had raised his head an inch and opened his eyes to meet Lewis’ steady gaze. “Hey.”

“Lew,” Arthur said. His arm fumbled around trying to find a hold but eventually gave up. Arthur stares at Lewis as if not seeing, but remembering. “You’re here.”

Lewis ducked his head into a nod. Arthur found a place for his arm, encircling Lewis’ side as far as it could and clutching at one of the ribs. “Stay with us, Art.”

Arthur dropped his forehead to the dark suit and focused on the texture, the blues and purples that refracted light all wrong. “I pushed you,” Arthur mumbled.

“It’s not a contest. You couldn’t stop,” Lewis said. He focused on the scattered bits of surviving cogs and metal, and mulled over the differences in shape and function Lewis thought about the van, and thought about the things that once gave him restless nights. “I could,” he began, “but I didn’t. That’s the decisive edge. Now drop it.”

“Fine.” And Arthur said nothing more after that. There was a short pause before Lewis leaned back to find that Arthur had lost his battle with exhaustion.

Lewis frowned. “This dork.” He looked over as Vivi moved to her feet and tugged at his shoulder.

“It looks like he cut himself,” Vivi says. She leaned on Lewis’ shoulder as she touched Arthur’s brow and sighed. Arthur was fine, maybe. He would be all right. “There’s a couch in his work station, and I’ll get a kit.” Vivi left through the door, and headed down the corridor.

Lewis lifts Arthur up with him and trudges into the corridor and moves into the opposite direction Vivi had gone. The low squeak of the hamsters wheels followed, Galahad keeping watch of his companion; besides the soft piping was the pad and click of Mystery’s claws on the floor.

The thought now hovered in Lewis’ mind that his presence was more damning to Arthur than his absence, but that shouldn’t come as a surprise. It hadn’t, and he didn’t allow himself the guilt or concern he might, should have felt. Another tether, another unsurpassable wall.

The fall.

When he awoke, as he so often did at the conclusion of a nightmare, it was not safe and in a warm bed surrounded by friends. Later. Later and later, and much later, he accepted that he would have no more restless nights. The recollection wounded him somewhere deep, and somewhere none tangible.

“I could’ve just haunted you,” Lewis muttered. Arthur’s aura was pooling, the erratic tendrils slowed into a cohesion that was preferred and agreeable. . “But where’s the sport in that?”

A low growl came from Lewis’ back. The spirit glanced over his shoulder, stunned to find it was Galahad that was making the hostile sound; while Mystery glanced between him and the small fluff ball with uncertainty.

“Just a joke, little hermano,” Lewis assured. “He’s having a hard struggle in him, and there’s nothing I can do to amend that.”

The work room Arthur utilized as his own was cluttered with tables, all decorated with every piece or part and cog Arthur had carefully ‘adopted’ from the garage. Lewis set Arthur on the beaten up couch near the door, and gave the room a brief scan. Walls had hooks and pegs screwed into the cinderblock surface to cradle additional tools and motors, or cords. A blanket was left draped over the coffee tables beside the couch, and Lewis took it up and folded it as he further examined the room while Mystery and Galahad remained near the couch.

Lewis was setting the blanket down on the back of the couch when Vivi arrived, the white first aid kit in hand. The spirit drifts away to admire the random worktables shoved at odd angles around the small room. Lewis never liked to see the scars Arthur had acquired throughout his misadventures with the Mystery Skulls, and Lewis most certainly did not want to pick out the new ones Arthur had claimed in his most recent travels.

#mystery skulls #mystery skulls fanfic #msa fanfic #msa #mystery skulls animated #mystery skulls animated fanfiction #msa fanfiction #msa lewis #msa arthur #msa vivi #msa mystery

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savvyblunders · 4 years

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TLC {Polyamorous Mystrade/OFC}

A gift ficlet for @cumberbatchedandgatissmitten

Cumber, this is just a wee gift because A) you’re so kind, patient and all around lovely about my terrible existential angst over writing your RG auction fic, and B) cuz you deserve a little TLC :)

Juggling her keys, purse and tablet in one hand, Alia managed with the other to hang onto the sticky hand of her youngest, Ollie, who was tugging impatiently, trying to get back down the steps so he could go chase a cat which had darted into the bushes. “Oliver!” She finally snapped exasperated, “Stop! We’ve got to get inside. Besides, I can’t take care of a bloody cat on top of everything else.”

When his hazel eyes filled with hurt, she was instantly stabbed with remorse. It wasn’t his fault that the divorce proceedings had left her off-kilter, and that full-time work and mostly-full-time-single-mum-hood was proving crushing. You’ll get through this, she reminded herself.

She’d bloody better, not much in the way of choice.

“Sorry, pet,” she soothed, giving his hand a squeeze. “I know you want to find the cat, but let’s go inside first to put down our things.” And pre-heat the oven so she could get some sort of dinner prepped for her three boys, start the laundry, sort the bills...

Door finally open, Alia let Ollie run ahead to fling himself in front of the telly, their usual after-school routine. She felt awful depending on it as a sort of nanny, but honestly what parent didn’t do that at least part of the time?

Glancing at the bench by the door, she spied Jeremy and Simon’s school things piled untidily in a heap and bit back a sharp sigh. At eleven and fifteen they weren’t any exception to how messy and frankly disgusting boys could be. Looking up, however, she blinked in shock; not only was the house tidy, for once, it also smelled pleasantly of lemon-scented cleaner, and aside from the school things, was shining with spotlessness. A state it hadn’t achieved since they’d moved in, essentially.

Overriding the smell of lemon was an even more amazing aroma: fragrant Indian food.

“What...?”

Jeremy looked up from where he was sprawled on the sofa, eyes glued to his mobile, although the television was on. “I sat on Si until he agreed not to tear into the food...it’s in the oven keeping warm.”

“You ordered in?” Alia asked, bewildered, “And cleaned?”

Looking at her as if she were mental, he snorted, “Naw, mum, it was the cleaning service. And the food arrived just a while ago...”

“Cleaning service?”

His look said he thought she was ready for a care home. “The one you hired?”

“I...didn’t hire anyone.” She didn’t have the spare cash right now, although it would be a blessing to have a helping hand now and then. “Christ, there’s been a mix-up, I hope the bill doesn’t come here!” Not with football boots to buy, council fees due, winter coming and all three boys bursting out of their clothes. “Are you sure the food wasn’t delivered by mistake?”

He shrugged, already going back to his phone. Alia peeked in the oven and was hit by a wave of delicious food smells; the oven was crammed with enough containers to feed all four of them at least twice. Even with the appetites of a teen and almost teen.

Utterly confused, but grateful, Alia washed her hands and started putting food on the table. The sound of the doorbell made her raise her head, “Jeremy, will you see who that is?” Licking cilantro chutney off of her thumb, she hoped it wasn’t the delivery driver come to take this bounty away. “Who..?”

Jeremy appeared in the doorway, a gift basket in his arms, smirking, “Got a new boyfriend, mum?”

She stared at the high-end bath products visible through the iridescent cellophane, confusion and embarrassment warring with pleasure. “No...” She blushed betrayingly, although thankfully he was too self-absorbed to notice.

Dinner was boisterous, as usual, and highly satisfactory. Leftovers put away, boys reasonably clean, homework sorted and with them all finally in bed (although the elder two weren’t asleep and she knew it), Alia finally delved into her gift. There were bottles of bubble bath, shower gel and bath oil, bath bombs, lotions, scrubs...it was a veritable Aladdin’s cave of luxurious spa products. Locking the bathroom door, she filled the gleaming tub with bubbles and oil and slipped into the hot water, hissing softly. Reaching for her mobile, she queued up some soothing music on her Spotify “relaxation” playlist and then set it on the towel folded next to the tub and wrapped greedy, grateful hands around the wineglass she’d brought with her.

Floating in the steaming, scented water, she forgot her worries, let her tension drift away. The aches and pains of a hard-working forty-six year old dissipated, as did a good deal of her mental turmoil. It was enough just to exist for now, suspended in comfort between one duty and another.

Just as the water began to cool and she was considering refilling the bath, her phone pinged softly. Pulled away from her relaxed haze, Alia nearly ignored it. But the boys had been almost suspiciously quiet, only having come to knock on the door and whinge about something three times since she’d been in here.

It wasn’t anything awful though. Quite the contrary.

Good evening my dear, read the text from Mycroft. I do hope you’ve had a chance to enjoy our gifts. My understanding from Gregory is that parenthood can be exhausting quite aside from everything else. We wanted to grant you a chance to release your responsibilities and enjoy yourself. Forgive our intrusion...as always, our care comes with no expectations beyond what you’re comfortable giving.

This was followed immediately by another text, from Greg. Hey sweetheart, My is trying to snag my phone, lecturing me about “pressuring you unduly” but... Dinner? This weekend?

The decision she’d been struggling with for several weeks now, whether or not to enter into a relationship with Mycroft and Greg, to become part of their already established dynamic, suddenly seemed crystal clear. Sod the potential gossip, should it become public, the condemnation she would no doubt get from some quarters. I deserve love, she thought, eyes misty with a sudden influx of emotion, I deserve their care. She could feel their love around her like a hug, and craved more.

Smiling, she sent a group text back to them both. I’m starving for you both...see you Saturday.

#gift ficlet #for cumberbatchedandgatissmitten #mystrade #established relationship #original female character #alia #polyamory #courtship #TLC

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mindfulwrath · 6 years

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Stick ‘Em Up

The final prize fic for the MWDF works contest! For @southlovesowls, who requested "your take on what a heist would look like with the deputies (Geoff, jack, Jeremy, Ryan, ray) when they were outlaws."

Words: 3,509 Warnings: Casual misogyny, violence, blood & gore, alcoholism

It began, as it so often did, with a train.

"Anythin'?" Geoff asked, laid out on his belly on a rocky scarp.

"Not a puff," said Jack, squinting through her cracked spyglass. "Maybe they hit a real rockslide or somethin'."

"Or they're just late."

"Or they're just late. I'll holler if I see anythin'."

Geoff clapped her on the shoulder and shimmied back from the ledge. He dusted himself off, resettled his hat on his head, and made his way back to the wagon. It was looking more busted up than usual, long overdue for some maintenance. The horses were all hitched up a few yards away, munching saplings and farting. As Geoff approached, Gavin heaved himself up from under the wagon and trotted out to meet him.

"Hey pal," said Geoff, taking a knee to scratch him behind the ears. "You ain't comin' with us, li'l buddy."

"Yeah, I didn't so much figure I would be."

Geoff looked up. Dooley was hovering by the horses, looking awfully disappointed.

"I was talkin' to the dog," Geoff said.

"Oh," said Dooley, his cheeks reddening. "Yeah, I—I knew that."

"'Course you did."

"I did! I was—answerin' for the dog."

"Sure you were." Geoff stood up again and nudged Gavin with his foot. "Mosey on, Gavvy. Where's Ray and Ryan?"

"Two guesses," Dooley said sourly, cocking his head at the wagon.

"Can't say as I'm surprised," Geoff grumbled. "Good damn thing the train's late, or else we'd miss it. Those horses all saddled up and ready to go?"

"Yessir. Went ahead and watered 'em, too, since it's gettin' hot already."

"Good thinkin'. If it's too much longer, you might wanna walk 'em around a li'l, make sure they don't get stiff."

"Will do, Boss. Uh—you think it's gonna be too much longer?"

"Hell if I know. All the shit that's been goin' wrong lately, wouldn't surprise me if the damn train didn't show up at all."

"Train's always late."

Geoff jumped about a foot in the air and whipped around. Ray was standing right behind him, his poncho hanging crooked over his double bandoleers, a permanently sardonic expression affixed to his face.

"Jesus, Ray!" Geoff cried. "How long you been there?"

Ray shrugged. "Couple minutes," he said. "Train's always late, don't know why you're gettin' all chicken-shit about it."

"Go fuck yourself, pal," Geoff said, rolling his eyes.

"Shit, right now? All right, Mr. Boss-man sir, but it's gonna take me a couple minutes to get it up again. Hope that train's real late or else I'll be shootin' with three guns."

"Harr-harr, ain't you a goddamn riot."

"We got smoke," Jack called from the scarp.

"Awright, time to go," said Geoff. "Jack, come on back, our li'l rockslide ain't gonna hold 'em up for long!"

"Comin'!"

"Guess I better go fuck myself real quick," said Ray. He ambled off to the horses, where Dooley was making final preparations, and was joined shortly by Jack.

"Jackass," Geoff muttered. "Ryan, where the hell you at?"

Ryan popped out the back of the wagon, pulling his hair back. He flashed a grin at Geoff as he stepped down.

"He was behind you 'bout thirty seconds, at most," he said, heading for the horses, too. "If you were wonderin'."

Geoff caught his arm. Ryan hung back, expectant. There was a fresh set of bruises blooming on his neck.

"Hey, you gonna be all right?" Geoff asked, keeping his voice down.

Frowning, Ryan said, "Sure thing. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well—I don't know, just I figured you mighta been a li'l shook up after last time, that's all."

"Ain't nothin' bad happen to me. Ain't nothin' to be shook up about."

"You sure? 'Cuz I don't want you freezin' up in the middle, or God forbid, anythin' worse happenin' to you."

"I won't freeze up and won't nothin' bad happen to me," Ryan promised, patting his hand. "And even if it does, I got the ol' Kentucky Ram hisself lookin' out for me."

Geoff smoothed his mustache. "Don't get to countin' on me, now."

"No, suh, wouldn't dream of it," said Ryan. He slipped out of Geoff's grip and started off after Ray, tossing a left-handed salute over his shoulder before breaking into a jog.

Shaking his head, Geoff let out a sigh.

"Damn fool's got ten times more luck than sense," he said to himself.

"Hey, uh, Boss Ramsey?"

He turned. Dooley was back, hat in hand.

"Oh, right. Uh—stay here, make sure the wagon don't go nowhere. And keep an eye on Gavin. And the other horses. And if we get caught—"

"Come and get y'all?"

Geoff blinked, pursed his lips, and inclined his head.

"Uh, yeah," he said, rerouting from the threat he'd been about to make. "Yeah, you come and get us, if we get caught. Just don't spend too much money doin' it. And don't let Gavin get ran over or nothin', neither."

"Yessir. I'll keep an eye out."

"Two eyes, Dooley."

"Yessir."

"Good. Now go make sure nobody's gonna see that wagon."

He snapped out a salute and scurried off. Geoff joined the others. Once he'd mounted up, he pulled his bandanna over his mouth and nose.

"Awright, boys," he said. "Let's go rob us a train."

Jack shoved her way into the first-class car, her gun pressed up under the conductor's jaw. Ray whisked in behind her, drawing both revolvers before anybody could get up. Geoff came after him, and Ryan brought up the rear.

"Afternoon, folks," Geoff said to the sea of waxen faces. "I'll be conductin' y'all's holdup today. Now if everybody stays calm and quiet, won't nobody have to get hurt, and y'all can go on y'all's way not much the worse for wear."

"This is outrageous," a woman spat. She was dressed like a peacock, only ten times as frumpy. "Where is the security on this—"

"Nice hat, bitch," said Ray, and shot it off.

She screamed and dove for cover under the seats. The car erupted in a clamor of gasps and shouts. The conductor wriggled in Jack's grasp, and she dealt him a ringing smack with the butt of the gun, not quite enough to knock him out. Geoff clenched his fists and breathed deep. The longer this took, the worse it would wind up. There was bound to be security somewhere on the train, U. S. Marshals or Union Pacific's own hired goons, and they'd figure out pretty quick that the Western Union car wasn't the one being hit.

Especially if there was any more gunfire.

"And let that be a lesson to y'all!" he called out, raising his voice to be heard over the clamor. "Next dumbass who talks outta turn is gonna get shot! Now my associate here—" He tipped his head at Ryan— "is gonna come down the aisle, and y'all are gonna hand over any valuables you got to hand, and then we'll be on our way."

"Everybody get up, c'mon, get off those doughy asses," said Ray, gesturing with his guns. Ryan took out the first burlap sack and offered it to the first seat on the left—an elderly couple, the man nervously wiping his glasses and the woman clutching her pearls.

"We'd be ever so much obliged if y'all could donate t' our cause," he said, sweet as a peach. "We won't take nothin' essential, such as your spectacles, suh—but ma'am, I think you will most likely survive without that necklace. C'mon, now, divest yourselves of your worldly wealth."

With trembling hands, they complied. Ray paced up and down the aisle like a coyote trapped between two fences. Geoff watched the passengers as they took off their watches and jewelry, keen for any hint of a weapon.

"Thank you kindly," Ryan said to the elderly couple. "Just think of it this way: the Bible says it's well nigh impossible for a rich man to get into Heaven. We're doin' y'all's immortal souls a favor. Have a blessed day, now."

He moved on, keeping up a running litany of platitudes in that soothing voice. The bag filled steadily. The conductor fidgeted. Jack kneed him in the leg, warning.

"Boss, they're startin' to get suspicious," she said, with her eyes on something out the window. "We better keep this short."

"Kid!" Geoff snapped. "Quit proselytizin' and get the damn money!"

"Oh, yessuh, so sorry, suh," Ryan effused. He rounded on the next pair like a rabid dog, snarling, "Put the fuckin' money in the bag!"

The two young women yelped and shoved their valuables into the bag. Ryan tipped his hat to them, grinning under his bandanna, before moving on.

The car filled with a low murmur, frightened glances tossed back and forth across the aisle. Geoff drummed his fingers on the butt of his revolver, watching, waiting, praying. A bead of sweat crawled down his back. He caught Ray's eye as he paced up the aisle and flicked a glance out the window. Ray followed his gaze, and his face hardened.

Vagabond's gonna get y'all.

Geoff's blood ran cold. The voice had come from nowhere, low and vicious and hateful, like a diamondback creeping underfoot—

"Who the fuck said that?" Ray snarled, whipping around with both revolvers. The whole car ducked, amidst muffled screams and cursing—all except one man, tall as a pine tree with a mustache like an oil slick and eyes like steel.

"I did," he said—or more squeaked, because both Ray's guns were pointing at him now.

"You wanna say it again to my fuckin' face?" Ray asked, walking up to him.

The man gulped. Towards the back of the car, Ryan tied up the burlap sack and hung it on his belt. Instead of starting to fill the other one, though, he eased out his gun.

"Naw, c'mon, say it again," said Ray. "Make my fuckin' day, you beanpole-lookin' ass bitch. Say it so's everybody can hear you."

With a great mustering of grit, the man said, "The Vagabond is gonna get y'all."

"Theeee Vagabond!" Ray hollered, and laughed. "Dumbass. You think the fuckin' tooth fairy's gonna show up, too?"

"Maybe not today," said the man. "Maybe not tomorrow. But y'all's day is comin'."

"How 'bout in the next ten seconds?" Ray asked.

"Don't you do it," Geoff hissed. Ryan was watching, quiet and curious. His finger was on the trigger of his gun, ready to pull. The goons down by the Western Union car had gathered together and were making eyes in their direction.

"Six," Ray said. "Five. Four. Three. Where's he at, hombre? Two. One and a half! Vagabond, hey, you dumb bitch, come get me!"

"Don't you do it, Ray!"

"One. Zero. Sorry, hombre, looks like he ain't comin'."

BANG. BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG.

The man's body jiggled like a pudding before collapsing in a puddle of blood. There were more screams. Ray blew the smoke off his revolver, popped it open and tipped the casings out.

"Anybody else got somethin' stupid to say?" he asked, reloading. "'Cuz I got a whole 'nother gun and a shitload more bullets."

Nobody said a goddamn word.

"Fine. Hand over all the fuckin' money and jewelry you got, and I prob'ly won't shoot nobody else."

"Fuck!" Jack spat. She shoved the conductor to the ground, kicked open the car's door, and took a potshot down the train. Somebody shot back. "Boss, we gotta go, now!"

Geoff grabbed her by the arms and hauled her into the aisle. Ray leapt up into the dead man's seat and shot out the window.

"Go, go!" Geoff said, pushing Jack down the aisle. He whipped out his gun and set his back against hers, keeping an eye on the passengers. "Well folks, it's been real fun, but we gotta be headin' on now! Thanks much for y'all's generosity, and have a good trip!"

Ray emptied his revolver and swapped out for the other one. A bullet smashed through the window in front of him, spraying glass. He flinched, cursed, and shot back.

"Get the kid out," Geoff said to Jack. "Ray! C'mon, we're leavin'!"

"I'm comin'!" Ray snapped. He reloaded one revolver one-handed from his bandoleer while he kept shooting with the other one.

"Don't wait for us, just go," Jack said to Ryan. "They're gonna shoot, but you just ride."

She ushered him out the door, pausing only to yank the purse out of a man's hand on her way out. Geoff backed towards the door, one eye on Ray and one on the passengers.

"Ray!"

He leapt down and dashed for the door. Geoff bolted for the horses. Jack was already mounted up. Ryan's horse was kicking up a fuss, dancing and tossing its head. Geoff snagged its reins and it nearly yanked him off his feet.

"Shit, fuck, goddammit—"

A gunshot snapped out behind them. Geoff whipped around. Ray was backing out of the train car, reloading again. A window exploded. Ray shot back before the glass even hit the ground.

"Put him on my horse!" he yelled over his shoulder.

"You don't—"

Ray fired off another couple shots before sprinting to them. He grabbed Ryan around the waist and threw him up onto his own horse. Ryan scrambled to get situated. Ray jumped up after him and sat down backwards. He popped off another volley towards the train cars.

A pair of hulking enforcers clambered out from between the cars farther down the line. Geoff dashed to his horse, firing from the hip. They ducked back, but as soon as he stopped shooting, they popped out again. Geoff leapt into the saddle and wheeled his horse around.

"Let's go, move, move!"

They lit out like bats out of hell. Bullets whizzed by, muzzle flashes lit up the clouds of dust behind them. Ray dropped to one gun, keeping his elbow locked through Ryan's to stay on the horse. A bullet smacked into Jack's horse and it screamed, tumbling into the dust. Ray tried to jump off after her. Ryan didn't let him.

"Sonnuva—"

"I got her!" Geoff shouted, doubling back. "Y'all go, I got her!"

She was on her feet and shooting by the time he got there. He heaved her up onto his horse. One of the goons had grabbed Ryan's abandoned horse and was riding after them, hellbent.

"Take us under the scarp, I got an idea," Jack said. Geoff kicked his horse and shouted. Ryan and Ray started up the switchback trail up to their encampment. A bullet whizzed past his ear.

"Come on, Blue, come on!" he said, leaning down over the horse's neck. Jack shot back at their pursuer, missing every shot. "Is he gainin'?"

"Of course he's gainin', just keep goin'!"

"Where the hell—"

"Just keep goin'!"

The horse's flanks heaved. Foam flecked its mouth. Dust covered everything. Geoff's ears rang with gunfire. He glanced back over his shoulder. The goon was bearing down on them, gun drawn, teeth bared—

CRACK.

He toppled sideways out of the saddle, bounced, rolled, and did not get up.

"Yeehaw!" Jack cried, punching the air. "Atta boy! C'mon, Geoff, let's get that dumbass horse back."

Geoff reigned in. Jack hopped down. While she hurried back to catch Ryan's horse, Geoff shaded his eyes and looked up to the ridge.

A familiar, poncho-clad silhouette raised a carbine rifle in salute.

Geoff flipped it off.

"Awright, Ray," said Geoff, dropping himself down next to the campfire. "What in the goddamn hell is wrong with you?"

Ray looked up from his dinner. The sun had set, and they'd thrown together a little camp about fifteen miles from the railroad. Firelight danced off of slender pines, and the glittering haul from the robbery. The smell of cooked meat and pine straw filled the air. Dooley was off tending to the horses, and Jack was walking Gavin around to keep him from getting into the food. Ryan had settled in a ways off, absorbed in his whittling.

"What?" said Ray.

"You know what. Back at the train."

"Thought I was savin' y'all's lives. You're welcome."

"It wouldn't've been needed if you hadn't started shootin'!"

Ray shrugged. "Sometimes a bitch needs killin'."

"No, he didn't. And you ain't have to go out on that whole damn monologue, neither."

"Oh, all right, yeah, so that's what you're all fucked up about," said Ray, rolling his eyes. "Grow a pair, Ramsey."

"Maybe on the day you grow some common goddamn sense, you trigger-happy fuck! Maybe on the day you learn to keep your fuckin' mouth shut!"

"Suck my dick, you don't pay me enough to keep quiet. You know what you do pay me for? To shoot folks. Sorry for doin' my fuckin' job, I guess."

Gavin came trotting up from the darkness, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. He climbed into Geoff's lap and tried to lick his face. Geoff shoved him off.

"Get the fuck outta here," he snapped, before returning to Ray. "It ain't your job to shoot first. It is your job to shoot second, once they're already shootin' at us. It sure as hell ain't your job to go engagin' in dumbass stunts like the one you pulled in there!"

"Fine, fuck you, whatever. Next time I'll let the motherfuckers ride your bitch ass down, how'd you like that?"

"Ray," Geoff growled.

"C'mon, now, Boss, ain't no call to get worked up about it," Ryan said. His eyes were on his hands, his voice casual. "Even if the Vagabond's real, it ain't like he was there to hear it."

"I don't got a problem with Ray disrespectin' the Vagabond, Ryan, I got a problem with him fillin' folks with lead just for openin' their damn mouths!"

"Oh, sure," said Ryan. "S'pose that's the reason you been lookin' over your shoulder all evenin', too."

"Marshals," said Geoff, heat rising to his cheeks. "Could be the Marshals are gonna come after us."

"Geoff, it's all right," Jack said, coming up and settling down by the fire. "Ryan's right, there ain't no call to get worked up about it. Gavin and I been all over hell and gone, and there's nobody out here but us. We got our cash, we got away, we're all in one piece—that's a good day!"

Geoff wiggled his mustache. He folded his arms and heaved a sigh.

"Fine," he grumbled. "Good job, everybody. We'll head on for Osceola in the mornin', see if we can't get this shit pawned off. How much we got in cash, meantime?"

"'Bout twenty bucks," said Ray. He tossed the remainder of his cooked rabbit to Gavin, who snapped it up in a heartbeat.

"Ain't great, but it'll hold us for a while," said Jack. "We'll prob'ly get twice that from the jewelry."

"Might almost cover the cost of ammo," Geoff muttered. "Gonna need another horse, too."

Ray got up, licking his fingers. He went over to Ryan and pulled on his hair.

"Hey," he said.

"Hm?" said Ryan, looking up at him.

"C'mon, I need some goddamn unwindin'."

Ryan smiled and put his knife away. "Sure thing, honey."

With another, rougher pull on Ryan's hair, Ray stalked away into the woods. Ryan blew the wood chips off his whittling, stuck it in his pocket, and followed.

With the two of them gone, quiet descended. Gavin slunk over again and sniffed around Geoff's face, looking for more rabbit. Geoff scratched him behind the ears absently.

"You all right, Geoff?" Jack asked.

"I don't know," Geoff sighed. "I don't know. I'm startin' to wonder if maybe...."

"Maybe what?"

He shook his head. Gavin climbed up into his lap and sat down, despite the fact that he was two sizes too big for it. He licked Geoff's ear, tail thumping hopefully.

"Maybe it oughtta have stayed just us," Geoff said.

"What, and set those funny fuckers loose on the world?" said Jack. "Hell naw. We'll temper 'em down in time, just needs a li'l more workin'. Ryan's already got Ray about half as hot as he used to be."

"Yeah, I guess."

Another, longer silence, filled with the crackling of the fire and the distant snorting and nickering of the horses as Dooley brushed them down. The exhaustion was catching up with Geoff, laying heavy on his shoulders, grim and foggy in his head. His heart had not yet stopped racing. His ears had not yet stopped ringing.

It was either going to be a sleepless night, or a drunken one.

"It's all right to be scared," Jack said softly. "You got every reason."

"It ain't that I'm scared, Jack. It's that there ain't a damn thing I can do about it. So long as we're outlaws, it's ... always gonna be there. He is always gonna be there. Waitin'. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but ... someday."

"Well," Jack said slowly. "What if we wasn't outlaws?"

Geoff blinked. He tugged on Gavin's ear. He sat forward and fixed her with a look.

"I'm listenin'," he said.

#MWDFContest #mwdf #ahfic #wild west au #it feels nice to get back into the cowboysthetic #like coming home #misogyny /#violence /#blood /#gore /#alcoholism /

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heyymonkey2 · 7 years

Text

First Night Back in Fuuga Chapter 21: Are We on the Same Side?

AO3 Link to Chapter 21

Summary: Yona finds herself in a series of unexpected positions

Sweat slides down Hak’s worked body and his messy dark hair is stuck against his skin as he returns to camp with the warriors in the evening. Light armor shifts in step on his over six feet of height and that deadly glaive rests casually over one shoulder. The Wind warriors look with admiration up at their lord, official or not. Even the Fire soldiers they’d practiced alongside that day have solidified their reverence for this Thunder Beast of many legends. No one was questioning the stories anymore. Not after today.

What a day it had been. All of them getting their asses kicked by this seemingly impenetrable man. All of them better for it by the time the sun fell low in the sky. Though they all questioned Hak’s sanity to work this hard when he’s about to be fighting in the war against Kai himself. Another great warrior might have opted to save his strength. But there was nothing selfish about this man out there. He was focused, intense... already fighting some war. And he only took a breath once, the same time they all did -- when she walked by.

The princess was like a ray of light, her brilliant red mane flowing behind her in the breeze. Princess Yona was always unmistakable. Even today, dressed in a traditional Water Tribe gown, a teasing loose silhouette with a tie just above her bosom. And it was fantasies of that bosom that all the men, regardless of tribe, brought back with them to the tents where they de-armored....

“Which Wind warrior did she wave at? Lucky bastard!”

“Old friends,” Han-Dae embellishes with flushed cheeks.

“Forget old friends, I’ll be her new friend,” a Fire warrior suggests with dirty thoughts clouding his eyes.

“Think she’s a virgin?” now all the Fire warriors are speculating with increasing bravery and lewdness.

“Depends who had her all that time and where they went. That’s all still a mystery, but what’s for sure -- that maidenhead is one valuable piece of ass.”

“Can you imagine one night with her? I’d give a limb. I’m not joking. I would.”

“Don’t let this idiot make a deal with the devil -- he’d end up trading his dick to get a night with the princess.”

All the men are laughing now.

Well, not quite all. As Tae-Woo changes his clothes, his concern rises -- his group can hear this and a certain someone is right there. Hak sets his weapons down with impressive care, his movements rigid, focused, but his face serene. Tae-Woo can tell -- this guy is pissed. And yet, in control of it.

Hak would like to introduce these smartasses to the end of his glaive. If she was here, if she had heard of a word of it, he wouldn’t have been able to control himself. There’s no question -- from the depths of his soul as a man he wants to protect her honor. But he’s endured years of listening to idiot warriors talk about what they’d like to do with her. He understands too well the second a Wind fighter causes a ruckus with the Fire warriors, the day’s unity will be jeopardized -- and he knows she’d rather he be protecting that today than anything else. But that doesn’t mean... a side grin creeps up...

“How dare you!” Tae-Jun is fuming red, incredulous, “To speak of Her Majesty this way,” he’s almost in tears at the thought of these vulgar statements about his precious Yona, “another word and I’ll have you charged for treason!”

The Fire warriors under attack immediately shut the hell up because Tae-Jun is actually an important person. But across the room, other Fire warriors who missed the reprimanding are still at it--

“Think Li Hazara would trade for her? Seems like a good peace move. I’d stall a war to get her as a wife.”

“What kind of countryman are you? You don’t trade your only princess to a barbarian!”

Hak’s eyes narrow as he removes his forearm padding and tries to ignore them.

“Naw, no way. King Soo-Won won’t trade her. He’ll want her for his own heir.”

“Yeah, isn’t she with him right now? He’s probably working on that as we speak. Think about it… it’s right before a war, they’ll probably be married first thing back at Kuuto...”

“Damn, thinking about them right now is giving me a hard on. Think he’s rough with her?”

Tae-Woo puts a calming hand on Hak, whose breathing has visibly quickened, and offers, “If you’re worried, then I can go check on the person you’re worried about...”

Hak keeps it together, in a low growl, “No. It’s safer for that person if we keep our distance. And… I left her with someone I trust.”

Tae-Woo watches Hak leave into the cold night air and thinks… he’ll never be as strong as Lord Hak. He never imagined how deep that man’s ability to suppress and sacrifice can go.

In his tent, Soo-Won moves figurines on a wooden war board, focusing on the strategy ahead. Keishuk sits in a nearby chair watching him, as always, when General Joo-Doh enters in a huff--

“She hasn’t stayed in one place all day!”

Soo-Won smiles faintly, “Remind you of old times?”

“She’s not six years old anymore,” Keishuk snaps.

“Certainly not,” Soo-Won surrenders, then, “Has she been near anyone in particular?”

“Just Lady Lili and that green-haired bodyguard.”

Soo-Won’s eyes flick up over the board to Joo-Doh with a specific concern, “None of the generals?”

“You’re asking about the Thunder Beast, right?”

“I have reason to be particularly curious.”

“No, she hasn’t met with or spoken to him. Just one of the Fire nobles, I forget which. She hugged him... it was almost painful to watch the way he gushed over her.”

Soo-Won raises his eyebrows, then returns to his pieces, “Tae-Jun’s always had an interest in her.”

“Things like that are what I have been warning you about,” Keishuk grumbles.

Soo-Won sighs, “Where is she now?”

“The medic tents.”

Of course she is, Soo-won thinks, “And where has Hak been all day?”

“Training Wind and Fire warriors. I watched him -- he’s everything he’s ever been. It's concerning. The troops look up to him. They follow him--”

“Enough.” Soo-Won cuts Joo-Doh off as he meets eyes with a seething Keishuk. Damnit.

“Where are you going?” Both Joo-Doh and Keishuk are watching Soo-Won head to the door.

As Soo-Won pulls on his cloak, “To get the princess. She’ll stay with me tonight.”

“After your back was slashed at the onsen, I asked to learn how to do this stuff. I was so terrified that night,” Lili is changing a young man’s bandage in the medic tent while Yona supports her and Jae-Ha watches from the perimeter, “I can’t imagine losing someone important because I don’t know a simple skill like this,” she blushes up at Yona.

“You’re being modest, this is hard work,” Yona admits, feeling a little lightheaded as she hands Lili a small bone needle and horse hair for stitches.

As Lili begins closing the wound, she braves a hunch, “Do you do this sort of thing for Hak?”

Hak. Yona is dizzy from the blood smell in the tent mixed with her anxiousness about him. She’s been thinking about him all day. To the point of being overwhelmed by it. Overly-distracted. She’s felt like throwing up for hours and really just wants it to stop.

“No…”

“What are you asking about?” Jae-Ha moves an arm around to steady Yona as he takes over the conversation, “Yona dear hasn’t been together with him in a long time.”

Lili continues working, looking down down at the stitching so she can ask bold questions, “Then what happened… I thought…,” her eyes flit up to Jae-Ha as she considers, then down to Yona who just looks tired. She decides to go for it, “I thought you had feelings for him and seeing you two this afternoon--”

ACHOO! Jae-Ha sneezes flamboyantly and turns to get a glimpse around the room to make note of who could possibly be listening.

“Jae-Ha,” Yona lifts a hand to his cheek to bring his attention back, then quietly comforts, “I think I need to go lay down anyway. Give Lili and I a minute, OK?”

He lifts her into his arms, “Of course.”

Lili watches this, Yona now in this man’s arms, and she wonders why it bothers her so much.

Once they’re back to their tent, Jae-Ha sits Yona on the edge of the bed and agrees to wait outside while the girls change.

“You feel sick, huh?”

“Actually, I think it was the blood. Just being back here resting, I’m starting to feel better already. And I think a distraction would be nice. Talking to you helps me feel better.”

“Here,” Lili helps Yona get her dress off and then pulls hers off, too, before heading to a chest to grab clean sleeping garments, “Also, I have this,” she lifts a lavender essential oil, “it’ll help if you feel nauseous.”

“Wow, it’s been so long since I’ve had access to nice remedies like that. It’s crazy to think I used to use those every day.”

Lili sets the clothes down next to the bed and gestures for Yona to lay down, “I guess you won’t be on the road much anymore. It’ll be like it was before… or will it?”

Yona starts to feel dizzy again, “OK, I would really like that lavender,” and rolls onto her stomach for Lili to rub it onto her back, “Today, being here… it’s all a lot harder than I expected.”

“Really? I would have thought it’d be easier,” Lili pulls Yona’s undergarments down to expose her naked back so she can massage the oil on, “I really missed you while you were traveling. Never knowing where you were or if you were OK.”

“I missed you, too,” having the oil pressed into her back feels incredible. She hasn’t been massaged like this in so long, she could fall asleep right now, “Mmmm…”

“Be honest with me… why do you keep saying you’re separated from Hak?”

“I guess... I wanted something else,” Yona lies.

Yona lifts up on her elbows to look at Lili, then suddenly feels nauseous again. Lili sees, “Just lay back down, don’t push yourself,” Yona rolls onto her back as she catches her breath, an arm over her chest to cover her nipples. Lili’s eyes notice the exposed bits of her curves, her waist, her bellybutton. Yona is pale and beautiful. Delicate and womanly. Tense.

“Relax,” Lili crawls on top of Yona, straddling her, and puts her oil-covered hands on both sides of her waist. She begins caressing up and down her sides to create warmth, “Something really has you stressed. ...is it the king?”

Yona’s breathing quickens as a clear answer.

“Shhh…,” Lili tries to calm her, “It’s OK. Please relax.”

As Lili’s hands move up and down Yona’s sides, it’s a strange sensation for Yona. It feels wonderful. This gloriously-scented physical contact and comfort from a close friend. And Lili’s soothing words are putting her in a zen state, too. But there’s something about how Lili’s hands move closer and closer to her breasts that tighten something in her core. Like it’s forbidden but Lili is getting closer and closer to that forbidden thing... but Yona isn't sure. It feels good though.

Lili moves Yona’s arm down to her side, now both of her breasts openly exposed, and Yona's ring necklace resting delicately between them. As Yona worries about this being exposed...

Lili starts to massage again -- delicately, carefully, finding herself entranced by Yona. This feels good. She's beautiful. Maybe this feeling she's had these past few days... weeks... maybe Yona parting from Hak... possibly? She sees Yona's eyes searching hers for something... should she?

Lili leans froward and kisses Yona on the lips. Whoa. Yona has a moment of shock, then feels Lili's hands suddenly over her breasts. Wait, what? Yona begins to pull away and wiggle beneath her--

“Ha--” Yona swallows his name before she can finish it as an explanation -- she's supposed to be hiding her relationship with him. Lili pulls back, watching Yona...

“Yona?”

“No... I'm sorry... I didn't mean for...” this entire experience has been out of nowhere and Hak is the only person she wants to touch her this way. Even though she may have just accidentally led Lili down a path to think very different than that.

Lili quickly moves her hands, then closes her eyes, realizing she was stupidly forward just now, caught up in her own lust -- a terribly embarrassing mistake. She opens her eyes to see Yona, an arm back across her chest and as red as a tulip. Lili whips around to see both Jae-Ha and Soo-Won standing frozen with the cloth tent flap open, a mix of surprise and confusion on their faces. And who are we fooling -- a little intrigue on Jae-Ha’s, as well.

Jae-Ha yanks Soo-Won back outside, a little shocked but still playing along with it, “As I said, the ladies need a moment.”

Soo-Won silently nods, then stands facing away from the tent, wide-eyed and collecting his thoughts about what he just witnessed.

A few moments later, Yona stumbles outside in her night garments, “...Your Majesty?”

Jae-Ha smiles softly at her in encouragement. His sweet, innocent, Dear. How scandalous.

Yona and Soo-Won stand across from one another trying desperately to be serious, but the air has suddenly changed.

Lili pops out of the tent. Both the men turn in unison, “No. Go back inside.”

Lili looks at Yona to get a read.

“It’s OK, Lili.”

Lili nods and heads back into the tent while side-eyeing both of the guys.

Soo-Won is off-balance but, “I’d like you to come with me. Just you.”

Yona is also kinda out of it still. Did he just...? Oh no. Her breathing becomes labored. The moment she feared is now?

“I can’t allow that,” Jae-Ha is firm.

“My understanding is that only she can allow or not allow... when it comes to you,” Soo-Won states matter-of-factly.

There are few times light-hearted Jae-Ha has ever been truly pissed. This is one of them.

Yona clutches onto Jae-Ha's arm as she stands defiant against Soo-Won’s request, “Where I go, he goes.”

Soo-Won looks at where she clings onto him, then gives the parting blow, “I’d like to discuss Kai. However, I am only willing to discuss it with you. Alone.”

“No,” Jae-Ha is adamant.

No. Yona can hear Hak’s voice in her head, begging her not to go. As a husband, commanding her not to. And yet… this is the entire reason they all are here. This one thing. She knows she won't be able to negotiate out here -- this is her chance, possibly the only one. So she closes her eyes in a prayer, Forgive me, Hak, then opens them to look up at Jae-Ha in apology, “I need you to stay, Jae-Ha.”

Jae-Ha’s face morphs into such a sadness as the dragon’s blood irons him to obey. He didn’t know that he’d ever want to act against her will… and not be able to.

Yona sees what she’s done and it cuts something deep inside her. Her Jae-Ha. Her promise. His. She takes his hands in hers, not caring if Soo-Won is right there, and yanks Jae-Ha down so she can wrap her arms around his neck and kiss his cheek, trying to relieve some tension in his agonized forehead, “Please forgive me one day."

Soo-Won who has been facing away from the display, turns back when she’s at his side. He begins walking and she follows.

All the while as they walk, Soo-Won is off-balance questioning everything he’s come to think about this girl. Polyamorous? No...

Finally they reach Soo-Won's tents. As Soo-Won has Yona enter, General Joo-Doh stops him at the door with an update… “Arrangements have been made with the other generals. We’ll meet in the morning to finalize strategy.”

It’s just the two men outside and General Joo-Doh is both surprised and impressed at having just seen the princess enter.

Soo-Won waits for something more.

General Joo-Doh knows what the king is interested in… “He’ll be there, too.”

In the tent, Yona stands facing Soo-Won's bed, heart racing and head in a fog, truly wondering what she's just gotten herself into.

#akatsuki no yona #hak x yona #fanfic #first night back in fuuga #hakona

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