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superhusbands4ever · 3 years

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The Chain - Chapter 3/15

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Full Work | AO3 Link

Fandom: The Bad Batch (Star Wars)

Characters: Crosshair, Hunter, Howzer, Rex, Wrecker, Tech, Echo, Omega, Various Clones

Relationships: Crosshair & Howzer, Crosshair & Rex, Crosshair & The Bad Batch, Crosshair & Omega, Hunter & Rex, Hunter & Omega

Additional Tags: Redemption, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Found Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: One year after the events of The Bad Batch, Crosshair struggles to reconcile his choice with the harsh truth of the world around him. He finds enlightenment in the most unlikely of places and realizes he may have made the wrong decision. But is it too late to do something about it?

Two years after the events of The Bad Batch, Rex reluctantly agrees to allow Hunter and his squad to help him rescue a man who's been captured by the Empire, an Imperial double agent who's cover has been blown. What Hunter thought to be a simple extraction ends up having far greater consequences for their squad than he could have ever anticipated.

Chapter Warnings: violence/torture, electrocution, anti-clone prejudice, the Empire being the Empire

Most people are drowning in their delusional ignorance without knowing that their suffering was created by themselves.

Jakusho Kwong Roshi

The disk exploded in the air as the blaster bolt hit it, shattering into tiny pieces that clattered onto the floor to join the fragmented remains of the other disks before it.

Crosshair adjusted his grip on his rifle and signaled to the droid at the end of the range to volley another round of disks. The kickback on his rifle against his shoulder was comforting and familiar, the same as it had been since he was old enough to hold the firepuncher up in his arms for the first time.

Shooting the disks was ridiculously easy, no matter how quickly the training droid launched them, but Crosshair wasn’t looking for a challenge. He came to the range to keep his mind busy, a distraction, a mindless task that would give him time to think away from everyone around him.

It had been three months since the destruction of Tipoca City, and three months since Crosshair had made the choice to leave his brothers and return to the Empire.

Those three months had been… interesting, to say the least.

It took the Imperial scouts two days to find Crosshair on that platform. Of course those two days were the two days Kamino decided not to be the stormy landscape it was infamous for. By the time the scouts picked him up he was half delirious from heat exhaustion, dehydration, and his head was covered in burns from the blistering sun.

He woke up again a few days later as they pulled him out of a bacta tank. He’d barely had time to process what was happening before he was being dragged to an interrogation room by a couple of commandos to be questioned by Rampart.

That hadn’t been pleasant.

It was another month before he was sent on missions on his own, before that ordered only to follow Rampart around like he was his personal bodyguard. He knew it was so Rampart could keep an eye on his every move, so he could make sure Crosshair could still be trusted.

Fair, he supposed. Even he could admit his story was shaky at best.

He’d spun some story or another about the girl setting off the training droids in the training room in Tipoca City, his squad being overrun by the droids before the bombardment started. When explaining how he’d escaped alive, Crosshair figured the best lies were the ones that were buried at least partially in the truth.

He told Rampart that he’d been knocked out by his former squad members in the chaos. That they picked him up and dragged him out of the city as they tried to escape. He wasn’t sure why. He didn't need to lie about that.

He told Rampart about the girl rescuing him, about his squad’s escape through the tunnels to Nala Se’s old lab. He told him about their plan to use the pods to escape to the surface, using that AZI unit as their guide.

And then. And then.

“You were working with them?”

“No,” Crosshair said, staring up at Rampart from the ground. “I was using them. Pretending to work with them until we reached the surface platform.”

“Yes,” Rampart said slowly, “the platform with no ship. How did they get onto Kamino, then?”

“They had help. Communications were down underwater so they needed to reach the surface to call their extraction. They’d just broken CC-5576 out of Daro base, I assume they were working with him.”

Rampart hummed, blank face giving nothing away.

“When we removed your inhibitor chip, Commander, you assured me that your loyalty to the Empire would not be in question. Was that a lie?”

Crosshair shifted in the trooper’s grip in an attempt to get the pressure off of his undoubtedly broken ribs.

“No, sir,” he gasped, biting back a grunt when the commando tightened his grip, forcing Crosshair to arch his back.

Something snapped. Definitely broken then.

“Good,” Rampart said softly. He gestured to the commando and Crosshair was dropped unceremoniously to the ground. He groaned as the muscles in his shoulders finally relaxed. “I would hate to have to replace such a… valuable asset as yourself.”

“They won’t be a problem anymore.”

“So you’ve said. It is unfortunate they won’t be an asset in the pocket of the Empire, but if they were going to be a thorn in our side then I suppose it’s for the best that they’re dead. And you are… sure they are dead, aren’t you?”

Crosshair turned to spit a mouthful of blood at the ground before turning to look at the vice-admiral. He couldn’t quite bring himself to look the man in the eye, instead looking at a spot just below on his cheekbone.

“Their pods were crushed when the lab flooded,” Crosshair said, swallowing hard. “I saw it. To the best of my knowledge, no one could have survived that.”

Rampart stared dispassionately down at Crosshair for a long moment.

“I certainly hope so, Commander. For your sake.”

There was a small part of Crosshair that wondered why he bothered lying, why he was still protecting those traitors. Maybe part of it was self preservation - if he told Rampart that he let the Bad Batch survive and escape, it would undoubtedly end badly for him. The Vice-Admiral had already made that abundantly clear.

He knew it was deeper than that, though, loath as he was to admit it.

He could have done it. He could have killed them. They’d refused to join him, refused to join the Empire, so it was the logical next step in his orders. It would have been so easy, too, distracted as they were by the kid drowning beneath the water. Hunter had brought his rifle and his pack with him into the tube. No one was paying attention to him. If he’d moved quickly enough, he could have grabbed the rifle, shot Hunter and the others, and left the kid to drown. All that would have been left to do was swim to the platform, steal the ship, and fly back to the Daro base to contact Rampart.

He’d been so close. He’d lifted the rifle and had it pointed between Hunter’s eyes before he’d even realized what he was doing.

But something had stayed his hand.

He’d stared down into Hunter’s tired eyes, finger on the trigger and ready to pull, but no matter how much he tried he couldn’t do it. Instead, he did something he’d never done before.

He froze.

Maybe it was a misplaced sense of loyalty. An old holdout feeling, a remnant from the days they were a team, a family. When Crosshair would have been the first to shoot anyone pointing a blaster in Hunter’s face the way he’d been. Maybe it was him returning the favor, remembering that Hunter had saved him, had still grabbed his body and taken him to safety despite everything the two of them had done to each other that day. Maybe it was him remembering the fervor with which Omega had ordered AZI to help rescue him from under the debris so he wouldn’t drown in the cold ocean water.

Maybe it was the memory of Hunter’s voice breaking with desperation when he asked Crosshair how long he’d been without the inhibitor chip. When he’d realized that all of Crosshair’s decisions that led them to that point were entirely his own.

This is who I am.

Or maybe it was the way those familiar brown eyes, eyes that had once looked at him with love and warmth, had looked at him not with surprise or anger, but with resignation . Hunter hadn’t looked at him and felt betrayed or shocked - instead he’d looked at Crosshair with empty acceptance, like he knew this was what Crosshair was planning to do all along and knew he couldn’t fight it. It was like Hunter had finally given up - given up on him .

I wanted to believe it was the inhibitor chip that made you like this, but I was wrong.

Maybe it was the way those same brown eyes had looked at him with that same tired acceptance in Nala Se’s lab, this time on a smaller feminine frame beneath pale, blonde hair.

Before he could even really process what he was doing he’d pulled the rifle away from Hunter and pointed it into the murky waters below. Hunter couldn’t see into the water, but Crosshair could - he could see through the grime and the darkness and the debris to the slowly sinking blur of the girl clinging to the droid. Looking through the scope he realized he was likely the only one of the group who had the ability to save her and survive while doing it. He’d fired the grapple without second thought.

It was after, when he looked back at the others and saw Tech, Echo, and Wrecker shamelessly pointing their own blasters at him, that he realized his plan was never going to work anyway. There was no way his old squad was going to follow him, to come back and join him in the Empire. Whatever bond had existed between them all those years together had broken and he wasn’t sure there was a way for them to get it back. His brothers didn’t trust him anymore and they likely never would.

Once the girl was safely pulled into the pod it was with that knowledge that he tossed his firepuncher back to Wrecker. He sat down in the pod and avoided eye contact with Hunter, not wanting to see the cold blankness in his eyes again. He’d desperately tried to ignore the gnawing in his chest, the emptiness he felt at the thought of his brothers leaving without him again like he knew they were going to.

He couldn’t even watch as Marauder flew away from him for a fourth time, fearful that they’d see the extra shine lingering on his eyes in Kamino’s rare sunlight.

He still tried to ignore the gnawing in his chest that he felt even now, three months later. His temple throbbed and he shook his head to try and clear it.

His thoughts were interrupted by a chime at the door, a warning to whoever was down range that someone was about to enter. The door slid open with a quiet whoosh and ES-02 walked in.

“Commander,” she said with a nod, standing at attention just inside the doorway.

“What do you want?” He said, shooting down the range again when the droid threw the next disk. The shot hit just as the disk was reaching the peak of it’s arch through the air.

“Admiral Rampart has requested you meet him in interrogation room 4-8C,” she said, and he lowered his rifle with a sigh. “He has asked that I escort you.”

“I don’t need a minder,” he said with a roll of his eyes. Still, he stepped back from the range and disengaged his rifle, pulling the nozzle attachment off and slipping it into his pack.

“Vice Admiral’s orders, sir,” she said with a shrug.

Crosshair nodded, slipping his pack onto his back before reaching down beside him to pick up his helmet. He slipped it on, sliding his firepuncher over his shoulder until he heard and felt the metallic clink of it as the magnetic hold in his pack activated.

“Let’s go, then,” he said, gesturing toward the open door behind her.

ES-02 nodded and turned, gesturing for Crosshair to step out in front of her.

They set off down the hallway, ES-02 following a half step behind him to the right. They made their way quickly through the facility until they got to the lift. Once inside, Crosshair swiped his access card to activate the lift and it started lowering itself to the fourth floor.

After a few moments of ES-02’s shuffling and sneaking glances, Crosshair rolled his eyes.

“What?”

She twitched slightly, looking over at Crosshair with what he could only assume were raised eyebrows under her helmet.

“Sir?”

“You have something to say,” he said slowly, as if talking to a small child. “What is it?”

She said nothing, staring at him for a long moment before shaking her head and turning back to the front.

“Nothing, sir.”

He had to fight to not roll his eyes again. These conscripted soldiers were a real pain, and for once in his life Crosshair actually found himself missing the regs. If for no other reason than for their ability to act like actual soldiers and not just gossipy children who thought they were good at lying.

The lift came to a stop and Crosshair stepped out as the door opened, not pausing to wait and see if ES-02 followed him.

He quickly came upon room 4-8C and turned back to the other trooper before he went inside.

“I think I can handle myself from here,” he said dryly. “You’re dismissed.”

She hesitated and her movements shuttered slightly before she jerked her arm up in a salute, nodding as she turned to walk away. He kept his eyes on her back until she turned the corner out of sight.

With a sigh, Crosshair inserted his code into the pad by the door and stepped cautiously into the interrogation room, still unsure what exactly he was walking into.

“Ah, Commander,” Rampart called out. “Thank you for joining us.”

Rampart was standing in the middle of the room next to a blue containment field. In the field’s ray was a man, a clone based on the blacks and the build, head hung low to his chest.

Crosshair slowly crossed the room, stopping at attention behind Rampart.

“The good captain and I were just about to have a long overdue discussion, Commander, and I thought you might like to assist,” Rampart said with a smirk. “You two have a history after all.”

The clone in the containment field finally lifted his head, and Crosshair’s eyes widened slightly behind his helmet as he took in the scarred face beneath scraggly facial hair.

Crosshair hadn’t seen Captain Howzer since he was arrested on Ryloth. Not long after he was arrested Crosshair had been sent back to Kamino to help oversee the decommissioning of Tipoca City. He never knew what became of Howzer, assumed the man had been decommed or reconditioned - if the Empire still bothered with that sort of thing - and he hadn’t spared the other clone a second thought. A few weeks later and the call informing him of Hunter’s capture came in, completely removing the reg from Crosshair’s sphere of concern.

Now here he was, and he certainly didn’t look like the headstrong Captain he remembered on Ryloth. His face was gaunt, his cheekbones stood out sharper than any clone’s should, and his hair was longer, lanky and flopping over his eyes. His face didn’t look any better, skin mottled with black, green, and yellow bruising. He hadn’t shaved in quite some time, and the black facial hair was growing in patches around the scar tissue on his cheek and chin.

The biggest change was in his eyes - whereas the last time Crosshair had seen him his eyes had burned bright with passionate self-righteousness as he rallied the other regs against the Empire, now his eyes were dull. They lacked the intensity, the heat they’d once held within. Before him now were the eyes of a broken man, tired and so beat down he could barely hide it, leaving him a shell of the man Crosshair briefly knew. Crosshair wasn’t sure what the Empire had done to the clone captain, but whatever it was, it wasn’t pretty.

Something about the image tweaked some long forgotten, deeply buried part of his mind. There was something about seeing another clone, strung up like a puppet and beaten down, that left a sour taste on the back of his tongue, but he pushed it down. This man was a traitor to the Empire. This is what he deserved.

“I just have a few questions to ask you, CT-7569,” Rampart was saying as he walked around the containment field, staring up without feeling at the clone held within. “As long as you answer my questions honestly and without issue, no one has to get hurt.”

Rampart stopped when he reached Crosshair.

“Commander, if you would be so kind as to make sure he answers my questions honestly, and without issue,” Rampart said.

He held something out in his hands and Crosshair looked down to see an electro-baton in his palm.

Reaching forward slowly, he wrapped his hand around the hilt of the baton. Before he could pull it from the Vice Admiral’s palm, the other man closed his hand around the opposite end.

“Consider this a reminder of what happens to those who conspire against the Empire,” Rampart said softly, staring directly into Crosshair’s visor. Crosshair narrowed his eyes at the other man from behind his helmet, cognizant of the fact that the words were said quietly enough there was no way Howzer had heard them.

He wasn’t meant to. They weren’t meant for him .

Crosshair pulled the baton out of the nat-born’s hands and walked to the other side of the containment field. He pressed the button on the end of the baton and the tip crackled with electricity as it powered up.

“CT-7569, I have to say, I am very disappointed,” Rampart said, continuing his stroll around the containment field. Howzer followed him with lazy eyes. “Your service record during the war was quite impressive. The way you were able to maintain hold of the capital even after that Jedi scum was killed was quite the feat.”

Howzer shifted slightly, eyes glowering down at the nat-born, but he said nothing. Crosshair tightened his grip in the baton.

“You could have done great things for the Empire,” Rampart was saying. “But you threw it all away. And for what? A little girl? One man and his wife?”

Howzer growled low in his throat, but didn’t move.

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

The reg continued to glare.

“Commander,” Rampart called, not taking his eyes off of the captain. “If you would.”

Crosshair clenched the end of the baton and lifted it, pressing it into the small of Howzer’s back.

Crosshair had to admit, he admired the way the other clone didn’t scream or yell. Howzer arched his back, breathing frantically through his nose as the pain built, his arms and legs trembling where they were held in place by the energy shackles.

Crosshair pulled the baton back and Howzer collapsed as much as he could while in the field's ray, his back and shoulders slumping as his head dropped listlessly to his chest. His shaky breathing cut sharply through the quiet stillness of the room.

“Well?” Rampart said, eyebrows quirked.

Howzer whined low in his throat, lifting his head just enough to look out at Rampart through hooded eyes.

“Howzer,” he croaked, voice hoarse. “Captain. Grand Army of the Republic. Designation CT-7569.”

Rampart said nothing, just continued to stare blankly at the clone captain. Eventually he turned to look at Crosshair and nodded.

Crosshair lifted the baton again, pressing it harder into Howzer’s back. This time Howzer couldn’t quite hold back his scream before he cut himself off, and Crosshair pretended not to notice the way his own hand twitched as the sound cut through the buzz of electricity.

“What can you tell me about the resistance on Ryloth?” Rampart asked once Crosshair pulled the baton back again. Howzer hung panting heavily within the containment field’s ray.

“I know Cham and Eleni were planning something,” Rampart continued as he walked around Howzer’s hanging form. “Those fighters they had at their disposal, the ones who attacked our transport--”

“You kidnapped their daughter ,” Howzer hissed, “what did you expect them to do?”

“Don’t play coy with me, clone ,” Rampart snapped, “you and I both know they were planning something before that. Arresting their brat just moved up the timeline.”

“Go to hell!” Howzer snapped back.

Rampart stepped back. “Commander, if you would.”

Crosshair’s hand twitched around the baton handle.

“9904!”

Crosshair’s hand jerked up, pressing the baton harshly into Howzer’s back once again. This time the clone captain couldn’t hold back the screams as the muscles in his back contorted violently again. Crosshair closed his eyes as the pain in his head rose in pitch with the man’s cries.

Finally, Crosshair pulled the baton back and Howzer slumped inward on himself with a whine, his head lolling forward against his chest. His breathing was shallow but slow, the muscles in his arms and shoulders twitching seemingly involuntarily.

“You tried to recruit other clones in your little insurrection,” Rampart said, leaning forward close to Howzer’s face. “I know how close you were to them. Who else is involved? What were they planning? Where are Cham and Eleni Syndulla?”

Surprisingly, the clone laughed. It was a dark and brittle thing that sounded ugly and wrong coming from the once amiable man.

“Save your breath,” Howzer said, glaring down at Rampart with a smug smile. “I’m not telling you anything. You may as well just go ahead and kill me.”

“No,” Rampart smiled back, and even Crosshair felt a modicum of apprehension at the wolfish look. “I won’t be letting you off that easily.”

Rampart took a step back, pulling a comm out of his pocket and pressing a button to activate it. The door slid open behind him and two TK troopers walked in.

“Commander,” he said, turning to Crosshair who was still standing behind Howzer with the now de-powered baton in his hand. “If you could escort CT-7569 back to his cell. It looks like we’ll just have to try this again later.”

Crosshair nodded and attached the baton to a hook on his utility belt. Rampart quickly left the room and Crosshair walked back around to the front of the containment field as the two TK troopers worked on removing Howzer from the ray.

The ray abruptly turned off and Crosshair watched as Howzer collapsed to the ground in a pile of limbs. He didn’t even try to fight as one TK trooper pulled him upright again by the arms, roughly shoving his arms behind his back and slapping a pair of binders onto his wrists. He groaned quietly as the manhandling no doubt pulled on his abused and aching body, but otherwise made no protest.

Once they were finished the two troopers stood back and looked up at Crosshair for instruction. Crosshair paused, staring down at the other clone.

Finally, Howzer lifted his head and stared up at Crosshair with wide, tired eyes. Somehow he managed to meet Crosshair’s eyes through the visor and Crosshair froze.

For a second Crosshair wasn’t staring down into the eyes of a broken clone captain turned traitor. For a second he looked at Howzer and saw another pale, gaunt, and tortured reg. Only instead of tired defeat he saw bright, beholden eyes, staring up at him with gratitude from the floor of the Marauder as they thanked him for helping to rescue him from Skako Minor.

Swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat he jerked his gaze away and gestured to the two troopers still standing at attention in front of him.

“Let’s go,” he said, turning toward the exit. Howzer grunted behind him as he was yanked to his feet and Crosshair closed his eyes against the pain in his temples that throbbed in time with his racing heart.

After he’d left Howzer chained up in his cell, he started the trek back to his quarters. The pain in his head had abated somewhat, but the day had left him exhausted and he was ready to lay down and attempt some sleep for the night.

The headaches had been getting worse lately, but the medics in the infirmary assured him time and time again that there was nothing wrong with him. Stress, maybe, they said. Psychosomatic. Most days were better than others but occasionally when the pain got too bad, when he couldn’t ignore the bright spots in his vision or the way his hands would tremble, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was something they weren’t telling him.

The chip was gone, he knew that for a fact. Had seen the thing, fried and burnt looking, when they’d pulled it from his head after it was damaged on Bracca. Why some of the side effects seemed to linger, he didn’t know, and he didn’t have the energy to ask. He didn’t think he’d get an honest answer anyway.

It was just a little pain. He was used to pain, he could handle it.

The lift opened finally and he had to put conscious effort into not groaning out loud when he saw ES-02 standing inside.

They both stared at each other for a second before she stepped to the side so Crosshair could enter.

One he was inside and the lift began moving, 02 shuffled her feet before turning her head toward him.

“What did Rampart want?”

“Questioning that insurrectionist we arrested on Ryloth,” Crosshair said, leaning back against the transparasteel wall with his arms crossed. “See what he knows about the resistance on the planet.”

02 hummed. “Anything?”

“He still won’t talk,” Crosshair said. “But Rampart wants to break him.”

“Do you think he will?”

The lift began to slow to a stop.

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug as he pushed off the walk. “The Kaminoans trained us to withstand most interrogation and torture techniques. It might end up working against the Empire’s favor, ironically.”

“I don’t know why he’s bothering,” she said with a shake of her head. “It’s been nearly five months since that clone was arrested and he hasn’t said anything yet. If it were up to me I’d just get rid of him and be done with it.”

“I suppose he should be grateful it isn’t up to you, then,” Crosshair said dryly as they stepped off the lift towards his quarters.

“Honestly, he’s just a clone. Rampart should just put him down and move on.”

Crosshair abruptly stopped in the middle of the hallway and ES-02 nearly stumbled into him before she caught herself.

“‘ Just a clone?’ ”

ES-02 shrugged. “Well… yeah. I mean, there’s thousands of them. What’s one less?”

Crosshair hummed as he stared down the other woman, not sure if he should be insulted or impressed by her audacity. Not that it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard from nat-borns before, even with the Republic. Or, admittedly, nothing he hadn’t thought for himself once or twice in his darker, more embittered moments. But for her to say it to his face, as her superior officer, was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.

He took off down the hallway again, fighting the urge to groan out loud as she continued to follow him. He was nearly to his quarters now, where hopefully he could get some peace and quiet to deal with his headache. If she tried to follow him inside, he might just shoot her and be done with it.

“I’m surprised Rampart is letting you near him, actually,” she was saying as they neared his door. “Considering how royally you screwed up dealing with those clones last time.”

This time when Crosshair stopped suddenly she did run into him. He watched with the smallest ping of satisfaction as she stumbled and had to catch herself on the wall.

“ What did you just say?”

She stared at him for a long moment. Her armor clanked loudly in the hallway as she shifted, apparently internally debating how far she wanted to take this.

“You heard me,” she said finally. “I think the Vice Admiral may be putting a little too much faith in you, is all.”

Crosshair’s eyes narrowed behind his visor and he rested his hand on the holster of the DC-17 on his hip. ES-02’s eyes followed the movement, but she didn’t stand down. In a moment of sudden clarity, every slightly off comment, every insubordinate slip, every “misheard” order and twitchy glance over the last three months flashed to the forefront of his memory.

“If you have something to say to me, then say it,” He growled, stepping forward.

ES-02 shifted slightly, hands fidgeting on their rifle, before stepping forward into Crosshair’s space in a way that was likely meant to be intimidating.

“I don’t trust you,” she said quietly, her visor boring into his. “I don’t know how you got off of Kamino alive, but I know you didn’t do it alone. You may have Rampart fooled, but I was there. I know what I saw.”

Crosshair tilted his head. “And what is it you think you saw?”

“I saw our squads’ bodies on the ground. I saw you fighting side by side with those clones.”

“The girl activated the battle droids,” he reminded her. “The girl you were supposed to capture. Are you really so incompetent you let a child and her droid get the best of you?”

ES-02 had the grace to flinch back a little at that, but she held her ground.

“You really expect me to believe our squad was taken out by simulation droids? ”

“Yes,” he said simply. “Maybe if they all weren’t so inept they would still be alive.”

ES-02 bristled and pushed further into his space until their helmets were nearly touching. He held his ground, arms at rest behind his back and he stared back at her dispassionately.

“Or maybe the droids were just a convenient excuse,” she said. “Maybe that was your plan all along. Get your old squad back to Kamino, overrun and kill us so you could get your little friends back.”

She let out a humorless chuckle, head tilted to the side as she regarded him.

“Though I guess they didn’t want you, either.”

“Careful, trooper,” he hissed, finally pushing back into her space. “I could have you court martialed.”

She shook her head, taking a step back.

“You think you’re so important, don’t you?” Her voice dripped with condescension. “You mean nothing . You’re an obsolete meat droid created to die in a war that doesn’t exist anymore. You’ve outlived your purpose. It’s only a matter of time before Rampart realizes that, and when he does? I’ll make sure they dump your body at the bottom of the Kaminoan ocean where it belongs.”

All you’ll ever be to them is a number.

“Get out of my sight,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Yes, sir,” she said, giving him a sloppy ‘ kark you’ salute, disdain clear in her tone, “ Commander.”

He watched the woman retreat down the hall until she was out of sight before turning and punching in the code to his quarters.

As the door slid shut behind him, he reached up and pulled his helmet off, throwing it across the room with a strangled yell. His head suddenly felt like it was on fire and he reached up to press his fingers to his aching temple.

If it were up to me I’d just get rid of him and be done with it.

I certainly hope so, Commander… for your sake.

We still would've taken you.

You’re my brother, too.

With a groan he collapsed onto his bed, burying his face in his hands as voices played over each other in his mind, desperately trying to ignore the cold that had settled in the pit of his stomach.

#cady writes #the chain #the bad batch #tbb #tbb fanfiction #star wars the bad batch #sw tbb #tbb crosshair #crosshair #my fic

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evabellasworld · 3 years

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Storm of the Republic

Chapter 2

AO3 Link | 1 | 2

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Summary: When Tup murdered General Tiplar during a battle, Anakin Skywalker and Captain Rex dispatched Ahsoka, Fives, and Yara to solve the mystery that was plaguing the Clone Army. Meanwhile, Senator Padme Amidala contacted Commander Fox, Commander Tori, Riyo Chuchi, and Dipper to help her continue investigating the death of Palpatine, suspecting that Dooku was behind the evil plot. But when Dooku send an ISB agent to stop them, the team had to race against time to search for the truth, which could alter the course of the galaxy.

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Facing the wide window, Emperor Dooku gazed at the Coruscanti skyscraper, holding a file in his hands. He gazed at the white, puffy clouds floating in the azure sky as he watched the traffic flowing smoothly, taking a mental note of every hovering vehicle. The old man noticed the Jedi Temple from afar, which was left in ruins.

The scenery of the city was like how he remembered when he was first brought to the metropolis planet, where he trained to be a valiant Jedi from a young age. Dooku’s first training from Master Yoda was meditation practice, where he learned to detach himself from his physical surroundings. It wasn’t as easy as it seems, but after a few attempts, he was beaming with pride and joy towards his own success.

When Master Yoda knighted him, he experienced the same emotions he felt as a youngling after going through the challenging trials and errors he endured. Dooku could also say the same for his late apprentice, Qui-Gon Jinn, who was the apple of his eye.

The Emperor recalled the day when a 12-year-old boy with dark brown hair was assigned to him. Qui-Gon was shy and was anxious about failing his master, but Dooku wasn’t upset. Rather, he was impressed that his Padawan admitted his flaws. Not everyone has the guts to reveal their vulnerabilities, and from there, he took Qui-Gon to explore the Temple.

He was a curious boy, Dooku smiled fondly, as he glanced at the photograph of him standing underneath a cherry blossom tree. He even saw some similarities with Qui-Gon’s apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Qui-Gon spoke highly about him a couple of times. At one point, Dooku even persuaded Obi-Wan to join him and defeat the Sith, but was disheartened when the Jedi Master refused his offer.

Turning to his desk, Dooku picked up another file. Only this time, it was related to two missing Jedi Knights. According to an investigation by Agent Starros, Ava Lira and Eva Bella Young were born in Chandrila to a single mother, Kaia Young. At the age of 3, they were taken to the Jedi Temple, and the rest, as they say, was history. Based on their appearances, the identical twins resemble their mother, despite their red hair and blue-green eyes.

Six months ago, the Jedi Order reported them missing after they did not turn up, and the Nurin alert was placed in order to search for them. Though there was a lead, the trail went cold and until today; they were nowhere to be found.

They don’t deserve to die, he frowned at the twins’ photograph when he heard the door hissed open. A light purple woman with chestnut hair and facial markings entered his office, bowing at him with utmost respect. “You summoned me, my Lord?”

“Yes, Agent Doherty,” he greeted cordially. “You may take a seat, please. I would like to discuss the progress of your mission so far.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Lenora answered politely as she sat down and placed her datapad on his wooden desk. “I have a list of senators I have monitored so far. Would you like to have a look?”

“That would be lovely, Agent Doherty,” he agreed as he picked up the datapad, skimming through the list of senators that sided with the Galactic Republic. Though he barely knows all of them, there were a few individuals that stood out, particularly the ones closer to the late Chancellor.

They were Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo, Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan, Senator Mon Mothma of Chandrila, and former Senator Riyo Chuchi of Pantora. These were the politicians that were vocal in the Senate, particularly about the ongoing war they’re facing.

Senator Amidala was close confidant with Chancellor Palpatine. They knew each other decades ago, when she was still Queen of Naboo. She was most critical about the Clone Wars and even tried to end the conflict with one of the Separatist senators, before the latter was killed. Despite her background in politics, however, she was also skilled in combat.

Senator Organa was also her closest ally, along with Senator Mothma and Senator Chuchi. His home planet, Alderaan, was the most peaceful in the galaxy, and like her, he also advocated for the war to end, which didn’t come as a surprise to the Emperor.

Placing the last three names on a list, Dooku then shifted his focus towards Riyo Chuchi, who was formerly a Senator of Pantora. She was part of the Republic Senate for almost three years, before the Imperial Security Bureau labeled her as a traitor. “Agent Doherty,” he spoke, showing his interest towards the young politician. “What can you tell me about your findings on Senator Chuchi?”

“Senator Chuchi was responsible for the death of Agent Starros and fled Coruscant 6 months ago,” Lenora explained to him. “She had help from clone units CC-1010, CC-6231, and CT-1512, who were part of the traitorous Republic remnants’ army. If it weren't for Agent Starros, they would have been captured by now.”

“I’m impressed that you outdid your former mentor,” Dooku lifted his chin up. “I find Agent Starros rather emotional for my taste. I’m sure you shared my sentiment towards her, considering what she had put you through.”

Lenora bobbed her head as she recalled the torture Agent Starros had committed in the past, making her fist clenched. “I’m glad she’s dead, my Lord. She had sociopathic tendencies and was prone to emotional outburst when things didn’t go her way. It’s rather unprofessional, if you ask me.”

“And that is something we do not tolerate in our government,” he returned her datapad, along with the files related to the Chancellor’s death. “Take these back to the late Chancellor’s residence, please. It is much safer there.”

“Yes, my Lord,” she bowed, acknowledging his orders.

“And keep a vigilant eye on Senator Amidala and her latchkeys,” added Dooku. “We must let no one bring down our government, just like how the Jedi did with the Chancellor.”

“I understand, my Lord,” the ISB agent approved as she walked out of the room and stepped inside the lift, releasing her breath. That wasn’t so bad, she wiped her forehead. I’m so glad the Emperor wasn’t as bad as he seemed.

Lenora recollected the day the Republic Intelligence was dispatched to handle the case of Palpatine’s murder. Dina Starros was in charge of the case, much to her envy. She used to pour a bucket of ice-cold water on Lenora whenever she failed, and forced her to sleep outside her dorm. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, she begged. I’ll do better next time, I promise.

Thinking about it made her shiver in fright as she pictured herself in a warm, secluded desert, which soothes her. Still clinging on her datapad and files, Lenora stared at the panels when the lift door opened, revealing a familiar face she saw from her datapad. “Good morning, senator,” she chirped, catching her by surprise. “How delightful to see you here.”

“Good morning, Agent Doherty,” Padmé replied in a nervous tone. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Oh, the Emperor summoned me. He wanted to know more about my progress. You know how meticulous he can be.”

“Of course he would,” Padme raised her eyebrows as the lift door was shut, leaving her at mercy with the ISB agent. Out of all people, why must I run into her?

“Is everything okay, senator?” Lenora inquired, noticing her fidgeting. “You seemed tense.”

The Senator of Naboo shook her head and cleared her throat. “Everything is alright, agent. I was just thinking about the next Senate debate, that’s all.”

“That wouldn’t be a problem, given that you are one of the best politicians we have right now. Besides, I trust you’ll do great later on.”

“Thank you, Agent Doherty,” she coaxed. “You must feel honoured to receive a mission. It’s not easy to get special attention from the Emperor himself, you know.”

How smart of her to say such a thing, Lenora bemused as she turned to her, crossing her fingers behind her back. “I wouldn’t call it special attention, really. He only told me to monitor the rest of the senators and put those files back at Palpatine’s residence, that’s all.”

Padmé’s eyes widened when her plan worked, prompting her to sneak a quick glimpse at the datapad and the files she was carrying. “What’s so important about the files that it needed to be kept at the late Chancellor’s house, anyway?”

“It’s a case file relating to his death,” Lenora spilled the truth. “Every piece of evidence that we’ve collected from the investigations is recorded here. That way, it’s easier for us to keep track of our progress. Impressive, isn’t it?”

If I could get my hands on them, I could finally reveal the truth behind Palpatine’s death to the Senate. “It is, actually. I bet there must be a lot of guards outside his house.”

The agent shook her head. “We only placed sensors by the door. The Emperor finds it a waste of resources to dispatch a couple of guards outside. Besides, I doubt anyone is going to break in.”

I’ll risk my life for that file. “That makes a lot of sense.”

Stopping at the 47th floor, Padmé sighed in relief as she stepped out the lift, grinning at Lenora. “I wish I could go on with our conversations, but I have important matters to deal with.”

“I understand, senator,” she maintained her smile. “Have a wonderful day.”

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itsdoctorhouse · 3 years

Text

Pilot/Everybody Lies

CC (Chief Complaint): Conduction aphasia and grand mal seizure

Dx (Diagnosis): Neurocysticercosis

(I’ll be writing definitions/explaining each medical term mostly because its fun and good practice for me, thanks. It’ll go in chronological order for the episode even if it doesn’t pertain to the final diagnosis, which I’ll then explain itself.)

Conduction aphasia:

Patient is unable to articulate full words, she starts speaking gibberish

What’s important is that she recognizes that she isn’t able to form her words properly and that she’s still able to write on the white board legibly (”Call The Nurse”)

The previous point is important because there are different types of aphasia - “the loss of ability to understand or express speech”, I won’t go too in detail about all the different kinds except for what I reasonably think matches the patients symptom and another complementary type.

Broca’s aphasia, aka Expressive aphasia: the loss of the ability to produce language, although comprehension generally remains intact. So, in context of the episode, that’s why she wasn’t able to form full words/sentences, but was able to recognize it and write down a legible call for help.

Wernicke’s aphasia, aka Receptive aphasia: wherein individuals have difficulty understanding written and spoken language. Can demonstrate fluid speech but lacking meaning, for example, “Sugar may be house phone.” It’s technically grammatically correct, but doesn’t mean anything in context of a conversation. The individual might also be unaware of the lack of meaning in their speech (more in s2e10 “Failure to Communicate”)

I like to think of the previous two as “opposites” concerning types of aphasia. Which might be obvious by their names Expressive versus Receptive :)

Both types are common after an infarct (loss of blood supply to a specific region resulting in death of tissue), aka a stroke.

Grand mal seizure:

The most common types of seizures are as follows:

“Grand Mal” or generalized tonic-clonic: the one shown on all TV shows and movies (probably because it’s the most visually interesting), includes unconsciousness, convulsions, and muscle rigidity

Absence: a brief loss of unconsciousness

Myoclonic: Sporadic (isolated), jerking movements

Clonic: Repetitive, jerking movements

Tonic: Muscle stiffness, rigidity

Atonic: Loss of muscle tone

If you’re familiar with latin roots a lot of the medical mumbo jumbo makes a lot more sense, for example these seizure names all look the same at first glance but the prefix a- means without, so knowing that tonic means “continuous muscle contraction”, you already know what kind of seizures tonic and atonic will be just from the name. P.S. myo- is for muscle.

Pulmonary edema:

Simply put, it’s when there is excess fluid in the lungs, so that it’s difficult for the oxygen exchange to occur. Meaning that the patient can’t get rid of the carbon dioxide inside their body and they can’t get new oxygen into their blood.

Can lead to a whole lot of complications because everything in the body needs oxygen and an abundance of carbon dioxide can cause respiratory acidosis (which is a whole other post because I love how the respiratory system works)

aka lung congestion, lung water, and pulmonary congestion

The most common cause is congestive heart failure (CHF), which is when the heart can’t properly pump blood throughout the body, so a backup of blood builds up, increasing the pressure in the small blood vessels of the lungs, causing a “leakage”

Symptoms will depend on the type/etiology of the pulmonary edema, but generally the patient will have a hard time breathing (technically it’s an issue with the oxygen exchange, not the actual mechanics of breathing) which means their body will try to compensate by breathing faster, aka hyperventilating (there are also so many different types of breathing which I won’t go into, but my favorites are Kussmaul breathing and Cheyne Stokes)

The patient “had an allergic reaction to the dye used in the contrast study.”

I’m not saying they’re wrong but...

People allergic to contrast dye usually show adverse reactions cutaneously, meaning skin symptoms: rash, redness, swelling, etc., and usually more than 24 hours after injection.

For the most severe reactions, which is what the patient might have had, anaphylaxis and death is a small possibility. It’s a 0.008% chance to develop pulmonary edema as a complication to contrast media.

It’s not a true allergy, rather a pseudoallergy, because there is no antibody that causes the reaction. It’s the contrast dye itself that directly stimulates histamine release.

... so they’re not wrong really, just super unlucky.

Vasculitis

I don’t even know why they suggested this as a differential and then started treatment for it. They don’t even mention what type of vasculitis it might be. I’m reasonably sure they only included this so that they’d start treatment with steroids (prednisone) so that they patient would get better then worse again.

Neurocysticercosis

First and foremost, the way that he phrases it in the episode, he would have realized it was neurocysticercosis sooner, if not for the fact that he believed she was jewish (because Wilson lied to get him to take the case)

Reasoning behind this: that the parasite for neurocysticercosis, Taenia solium, is mostly found in pork (which religious jewish people are not supposed to eat). Which, first of all, as a non-religious jew myself, that’s some supposition right there. Immediately thinking all jews are religious and/or don’t eat certain foods because other jews don’t.

And secondly, that he didn’t double check her religion status, so immediately discarded a diagnosis based on that erroneous fact. Like, I get it’s the pilot and they wanted to establish personalities and relationships right off the bat, but that’s the one annoying part of the show, if only he had gotten to know his patient he probably could have diagnosed her earlier (but that’s why we love House, his charming personality)

Life cycle: Eggs or gravid proglottids (pregnant segments of the adult parasite [tapeworms as a whole have different segments to their body called proglottids, their “head” is called a scolex and is mostly different for each species, the head is connected to the neck, which then connects to the first immature proglottid. Depending on the species they all have different amounts of proglottids, ranging from 5 to 1000. The further away from the scolex they get the more mature they become, and when fully mature they’re impregnated, one segment at a time, with each segment breaking off from the previous so that they can find a nice home in the body]) are found in feces and passed into the environment, from there they’re ingested by an intermediate host, usually a pig, but in the case of cysticercosis, a human. The eggs hatch and liberate larvae, aka oncospheres, which penetrate the intestinal wall and circulate to musculature. They mature into cysticerci over 60-70 days, and can migrate to the central nervous system, which is what causes neurocysticercosis.

The same parasite can cause another disease called taeniasis. This differs primarily through the acquisition of the parasite. The pig is the intermediate host in this case and a human the definitive host. It is ingested through uncooked/undercooked pork containing cysticerci. Wherein they will evaginate and attach to the small intestine by their scolices (head and suckers). This disease will normally only cause intestinal issues.

A primary infection of taeniasis with Taenia solium can cause a secondary infection of cysticercosis which can lead to neurocysticercosis. So it is possible for the patient to have neurocysticercosis even though they explained it using taeniasis.

Neurocysticercosis is one of the main causes of epileptic seizures in many less developed countries (not so much for a pre-school teacher in New Jersey)

Treatment can include steroids (which is what they gave her for vasculitis, and the reason why she seemed better for a time) but ultimately an anti-parasitic is needed, suggesting albendazole or praziquantel for about 2 weeks.

#House MD #medicine #in depth analysis of things that really don't need to be analyzed #but I like it #its fun #season 1 episode 1 #everybody lies #taeniasis #cystercicosis #neurocysticercosis #aphasia #seizure #pulmonary edema #vasculitis

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marlinspirkhall · 3 years

Text

Tomorrow Never Comes, Chapter 06: “Show And Tell”

CW: Discussions of past violence

Chapter Word Count: 3,261 words

[Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7]

A muffled voice. “Jim?”

Footsteps.

The bedroom door is thrown open, and a mass of dark hair hurtles toward him. Jim barely has enough time to sit up before Spock lands on him heavily, knocking him back onto the mattress. Jim braces himself against the trembling torso, and wraps his arms around him.

“Whoa- Spock!” He laughs, and pushes himself upright again. “It’s alright. I’m alright.” He pulls back slightly, and runs his hand down Spock’s side, but, of course, the wound from yesterday has completely vanished. He smiles. “You’re alright. We’re alright.” Strong arms embrace him, pulling him closer, and he sinks into them. “You steered us out of danger,” he murmurs against his shoulder.

“I thought you-”

“I know. When I woke up, you were injured. I didn’t think you were going to make it, so I- I found enough anaesthetic to knock myself out.” He pauses. “It might have killed me, given enough time- I know non-replicated medicines don’t keep that well, but-”

“Jim.” Spock presses his forehead against his, and Jim keeps talking, as if he can explain it to himself somehow.

“- I guess it worked, because-”

Spock’s lips capture his, and he blinks. He tilts his head, and makes a surprised sound as he returns the kiss. Spock’s movements are slow, well-practised, almost perfectly timed. Jim’s breath catches, and he pulls away.

“Oh. Okay,” he says, breathlessly. “That’s not the first time we’ve-? Uh? Is it-?”

“No,” Spock murmurs. His eyes glimmer with something, and he watches Jim. Waiting.

Jim places his hands against his hips. “Can we-?”

“Yes,” Spock breathes. They kiss again, and Spock’s hands travel up Jim’s spine, and settle, finally, at the nape of his neck. Jim presses against him lightly, learning the contours of his body, as Spock holds his with a strange familiarity. The tension drops from his shoulders, and he gives in- this, if anything, is the final proof of the prison they find themselves in, not that any was needed. Spock cradles him with expert hands, and knows every favourite spot better than Jim knows them himself. Still, he feels almost as if he’s kissing a stranger, and pulls away before he makes a fool of himself.

“You’re at a- slight advantage, Spock.”

Spock looks at him.

He huffs. “Don’t tell me you knew I was going to say that.”

A raised eyebrow. “I did not say a word.”

“Still...” Jim glances down, and grabs Spock’s right hand, raising it to his lips. “You’re showing me up.” He kisses the palm, twice.

“There is no need to be embarrassed, Jim.” His eyes twinkle, teasingly.

“You smug bastard.” Jim peppers the inside of his hand with soft kisses, and nips at the skin intermittently, as he traverses towards the thumb with gentle lips. “There must be something you’re not expecting.”

“Mm.”

“I’ve heard that Vulcan hands are very sensitive,” Jim comments.

“They are,” Spock says, neutrally.

“Hm. An erogenous zone, perhaps?”

��Spock raises an eyebrow cryptically.

Jim splays his hand and begins to kiss between the webs of his fingers, darting his tongue out as he peers up at Spock, gauging his reaction. Spock locks eyes with him, and remains determinedly impassive.

Jim continues his ministrations, and caresses Spock’s other hand as he goes. Gradually, he kisses the pad of each finger, and rubs small circles into the palm of his hand.

Spock watches him appraisingly.

“Well?” He murmurs.

“It was certainly- nice,” Spock purrs. “But it was not- surprising.”

Jim narrows his eyes, and pins him to the bed with a chuckle.

The interior of the shuttle is more wrecked than the outside, though the outer armour is dented slightly. They’ve taken slight damage to their shield generators. Jim ventures inside.

The floor around the pilot’s seat is stained a deep green, as is a corner of exposed panelling towards the driver’s right-side. It’s evident that this was the item responsible for Spock’s injuries, and it appears to have been forced open by a minor explosion from within the panel itself. He tears the shard of panelling free so it won’t pose a problem in the future. Of course, it will never have the chance to do that if they can’t get it off the ground again.

He moves to the back of the shuttle, and places the fallen hypospray back in the medkit. Then, he opens the access panel to the engine.

The warp coil is out of alignment, but, when he goes to reposition it, it snaps in two. He stares at it for a moment, then retrieves the two halves, and moves to the outside of the shuttle, where Spock is puzzling over the broken shield generator.

“I was going to suggest we give it another couple of runs until we finally got it right, but it’s pointless.” Jim drops the broken warp coil with a reverberating clang. “The ship won’t repair itself. It’s the same as the weapons.” He nods to the empty holster which is built-into the side of Spock’s suit, and slumps against the side of the ship.

“The warp coil can be repaired,” Spock says, softly, as he sits down beside him.

Jim shakes his head. “Maybe. But how many times can we repair the ship, really, when we have to salvage replacements?” He nods towards the stronghold with the beginnings of a smirk. “You weren’t exactly thrilled by the new bulb I found for the bathroom.”

Spock wrinkles his nose. “Perhaps not. But not everything must be done to my taste.” He rests his head on Jim’s shoulder, and the two of them sit in silence for a moment as a cool breeze brushes over them.

“Spock,” Jim says, in a pinched voice.

“Yes, Jim?”

He shifts a little, and Spock looks up.

“I’ve been thinking; and I know you will have noticed it too- there’s a strange pattern to the things which keep regenerating. We haven’t run out of food rations- not that we need to eat them- and the same fruit appears on the trees every day. Leland and I kept returning when we got killed, only unable to retain any memories.”

“Yes,” Spock says, patiently.

“Well, what makes the weapons any different? Or the ship, for that matter? The stronghold?”

Spock considers for a moment. “They are not made of organic matter.”

Jim nods. “Perhaps.” He pulls himself to his feet, and offers a hand to Spock. “Or, perhaps, the planet only regenerates things which will prolong our suffering.” He watches the shield generator with a glum smile.

“If the intention was solely to make us suffer, would it not be more effective to prevent food from regenerating, to prolong our starvation?”

Jim purses his lips. “Perhaps. But there are other ways to starve. Entertainment. Companionship.”

“Indeed. Which is why I find it unusual that the planet would allow us to exist here, together, in perpetuity.” Jim’s eyes glimmer hopefully, and Spock looks away. “Even Vulcans experience loneliness,” he justifies.

“I never suggested they couldn’t,” Jim says softly, and fixes his gaze on him. Spock keeps his own trained carefully on the ground.

Jim digs into the shield generator with his bare hands. “What if it’s not meant to feel like a trap? Not at first. After all,” his voice is almost hoarse, “Self-replenishing food? For many people, that’s paradise. But, what happened when the battery packs for the phasers ran out?”

“We found other ways to deal with Leland,” Spock says, with just a hint of humour.

“Right. But, one day… Theoretically, if we’re here long enough…” He struggles with the shield generator with a grunt. “Axes will blunt. Knives will wear down. We have so many, but those will run out eventually.”

Spock lifts his hand out of the way gently. “That could take centuries.”

“Right.” Jim sighs. “Just enough time to figure out a way out of here.”

“Spock, what was the full extent of Leland’s plan?” Jim asks, as they lounge beside each other on the double bed. Outside, the storm rages, but Jim is almost used to it now. Seeing the expression on Spock’s face, he waves a hand at the ceiling. “I don’t mean killing me, but the rest of it- taking down the outpost, the attack on Kronos- how were they going to do it? It could be important, once we get out of here.”

Spock considers. “Not much was concealed from you. We were to take down the outpost, at which point, we would be joined by a strike team from Section-31, either here, or in space.”

“One strike team?” Jim murmurs. He thinks of the crates and crates of power packs, and the strange, mismatched weapon on the front of Georgiou’s ship. Retractable, circular.

Almost like a drill.

He sits up. “They’re going to use the technology they recovered from The Nerada to destroy Kronos,” he realises. “I didn’t see it before- how a band of people so small could hope to launch an attack alone, but it makes perfect sense.” He shakes his head. “What are they thinking? Aren’t two destroyed planets enough?”

Spock closes his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Spock,” Jim murmurs, touching his arm. He sighs. “It would be a lot easier to work out what’s going on if we knew what was on that ship.”

He draws his knees to his chest, and listens to the rhythmic beat of rain against the windows.

Spock stirs next to him. “Ten thousand cc’s of red matter,” he murmurs.

“What?”

His eyes flutter open. “The Enterprise was there, Jim,” he whispers. “When Vulcan was destroyed. The Nerada took Captain Pike prisoner, and destroyed every other starship in the system. At first, we could not work out why they spared us, but Nero… Knew me.”

Jim frowns. “Knew you? I don’t-”

“The weapons on The Nerada were from the future. But, it was a future version of myself who created the singularity which allowed them to travel through time. And…” He frowns. “He provided the red matter which is necessary to destroy a planet.”

Jim rests his head on his knees and stares at Spock. Given their current situation, the idea of actual, tangible time-travel isn’t so far-fetched, but he stares at him anyway.

“In the other universe, Romulus was destroyed when its sun went Nova, and The Nerada was brought through the singularity it created.”

“Another universe,” Jim whispers.

Spock nods. “Another me… Whom Nero was determined to get revenge on; for the destruction of his homeworld.”

Jim frowns. “But- he didn’t do it deliberately.”

A jerky nod. “He told me it was an accident. Nevertheless…” He rakes a hand through his hair. “When The Enterprise attempted to defend Earth, both were destroyed, and I was imprisoned on The Nerada for three weeks.”

“With Pike,” Jim breathes.

Spock nods. “And my counterpart.” His hand shakes. “When I arrived, he had already suffered extensive injuries. I melded with him many times in an attempt to save his life, but-” his voice cracks, and Jim places a hand on his shoulder. Spock covers his hand with his own, and continues.

“He perished after three days. He and Pike attempted to protect me, but, once they were gone, Nero was once again free to take his frustrations out on me.” He sweeps his long hair back over his shoulder.

On the back of his neck is the beginning of a scar. It continues under his shirt, and Spock’s fingers fall still against the neckline. He peers at Jim.

A question.

Jim nods, and Spock removes his shirt with trembling fingers. His back is lined with a criss-cross of scars. A long, jagged line runs up his back, and dips down again, like a diagonal “v”. It branches off into smaller lines, some more faded than others, and Jim reaches a hand out tentatively.

“Can I…?”

Spock nods, and Jim touches the mark gently. Spock tenses.

“Does it hurt?” He whispers.

He searches the wall, a vague, faraway look in his eyes. “It did.”

Gently, Jim traces his hand up Spock’s back, and slides closer to him, placing a leg on either side of his waist. He rests his chin on Spock’s shoulder, and brushes his cheek with his.

“It’s my fault, Jim. The destruction of my home, and yours.”

Jim shakes his head. “No. You only think that because you’ve been told that. You-” He softens his voice. “Nero is responsible for his own actions.”

Spock swallows.

“Leland was wrong- more to the point, Leland is unhinged. He may blame you for the destruction of earth, but-” he squeezes his hand. “I don’t.”

“But, a version of me was responsible for bringing the Narada back in time-”

“It’s not your fault.” He traces the scar on Spock’s neck. “No matter what he told you,” he whispers. “What happened to Romulus was a tragic accident, but, what happened to us- to our homes- was deliberate. You weren’t responsible for that.” He kisses his cheek. “You weren’t responsible for any of it.”

Spock breathes shallowly.

Jim bends gently, and places a kiss to the scar on his neck. Spock shivers, and Jim moves gradually lower. He follows the line of scarring down his back, kissing at individual vertebrae as he goes, and Spock trembles.

He rumbles. “Jim.”

“Mm? Oh,” Jim smiles, slyly, against his skin. “So, that surprised you, huh? I guess you’ve never shown me your scars before.”

Spock shakes his head. Jim presses his forehead against his back with a laugh, and projects all the love he feels. His breath hitches, and Jim nuzzles against him. “I promise you, Spock, you’re going to get out of here. You deserve to survive. You deserve to live.”

He kisses his neck again, and Spock grasps his hands, holding them against his chest and ruminating. Jim sits up slightly.

“Spock. It’s okay. You didn’t kill anyone... You’re no murderer.”

He breaks contact with Spock, and retrieves his penknife from the bedside table. “The last time I saw my brother alive, he gave me this. ‘Just in case.’” His lip quivers, and he looks away, to the drops of rain running down the window. “We were on Tarsus IV,” he whispers. “He tried to steal food for us, on the night…” He sets the knife back down, and a tremor runs through his hands. “On the night that the colonists were killed.”

Spock watches him.

“He told me to wait for him, and I did. But I wasn’t the only person who’d found that hiding spot- the office on the ground floor of the embassy. A boy found me. He wasn’t much older than me, but at the time, he seemed so… Threatening.” He taps his fingers against his knee. “He wanted me to leave, and I- I didn’t know what to do. Sam had told me to wait for him, so I…” He motions with his hand, and falls silent. He feels Spock’s gaze, boring into him.

“That was the first person I killed. Not Kodos. Not one of his personal guards, but a scared boy who was just looking for his next meal. Just like me. And…” He looks at the knife. “My brother.” He takes a shaky breath. “They found Sam after the riots at the warehouse, after the fires and the smoke had cleared. He and a number of protestors had been tied up by a member of the guard detail. With rope. If he’d had a knife-”

“Jim.”

“I know; I shouldn’t blame myself. But, I kept that knife. For years, every time I looked at it…”

Spock nods. “Survivor’s guilt is a powerful thing.”

Jim settles against him. “I suppose we know that better than most.”

“I think Sam wanted me to be brave. Like him.

“He gave his life for yours. It was a gift.”

“That, and the knife.” He watches him for a moment. “When did you get so wise?”

He shrugs. “I know something about the things older siblings are expected to sacrifice for their youngers.”

Jim looks up. “You’re an older sibling?”

“No.”

“Oh.” He falls silent for a moment, and traces the lines on Spock’s back absent-mindedly.

Thunder rumbles outside, and Spock tenses, but relaxes almost immediately into his touch.

Lightning flashes. Jim thinks about the night that he was struck by it, and nuzzles into Spock’s shoulder. “Meld with me,” he whispers. “I just want to be close to you.”

Spock turns, slowly, and lifts Jim’s chin slightly. He kisses him gently, and places his hand over his face. “Your mind to my mind,” he murmurs against his mouth.

Jim slumps.

He sees flashes of images. Thoughts which are at once fleeting, and familiar. People who he’s suddenly known all his life. Sarek. Amanda. Sybok. Michael. His family, and the terrible pain which accompanies it.

Sam. Winona. Aurelian. George. Spock’s breath is hot on his cheek. Tarsus IV is mockingly beautiful, the skies overhead a haunting pink, brighter than the rocks on Heirin. The skies over Vulcan burn red as they’re ripped away, and Spock beams onto the ship alone, without his mother. Jim stabs the boy whose name he never learned. Pike tells Nero the command codes to override the Starfleet defence grid, and The Nerada drills a hole through The San Andreas Fault. Red Matter. The singularity engulfs Earth.

Jim pulls away, gasping, and grasps at Spock’s hands.

‘Spock…’

They’re unmelded, and yet, they talk without words.

Jim’s first kiss. He places a hand to his head, almost dizzy, and stares into Spock’s eyes.

A warmth flows down Jim’s spine. He straightens up, and Spock shivers in turn.

‘What’s happening?’ Jim grips his arm.

‘A bond is forming between us,’ Spock says. ‘If you wish, I could stop it-’

‘No,’ Jim says. ‘It’s okay.’

‘Our minds will be joined, forever,’ Spock warns.

‘Spock,’ As the sensation overwhelms him, Jim struggles to form non-abstract thought. ‘We’re already the only people here.’

‘You don’t understand the significance-’

But Jim does.

They kiss without touching, the space between them filled with knowledge and words and sensation. He seeks Spock’s body, and phrases chase after him. Parted from me and never parted. Never and always touching and touched. He gets a glimpse of a hundred horrible, meaningless things- everything Spock’s counterpart showed him, Nero, the torture they endured- and a million pleasant things fight back, a thousand times more beautiful. Happy memories. His childhood on Vulcan, his childhood on Earth, their history becoming as entangled and inseparable as a vine on a tree. T’hy’la. They fall back onto the mattress, and Jim holds two fingers out, and, somehow, knows it’s an ozh’esta.

Spock joins fingers with him, and he trembles, every point on his body alight with sensation. He twists, and writhes, as Spock presses kisses to his forehead, neck, and shoulders. He doesn’t know if he does it with his mind or his mouth, but his fingers roam elsewhere. Jim can hardly keep track, and he throws his head back and sobs with overstimulation, but he doesn’t want it to stop. They’re caught in a feedback loop of each other’s thoughts and emotions, and Spock’s mind is incandescent.

You are the most magnificent thing I’ve ever seen.

As are you.

They fold together, breathing heavily, burnt out. Spock rests his head against Jim’s chest, and Jim holds him protectively. In this moment, he could save him from anything.

Spock headbutts him gently, as if trying to dissolve into him.

They fall asleep curled together, their bodies as entwined as their souls.

[Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7]

#tomorrow never comes #star trek fic #spirk fic

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mando-chicken · 4 years

Text

Individuality | Star Wars Daemons

In a universe much like the one you are familiar with, souls are able to manifest into a physical form outside of the body, taking on the forms of animals and walking beside their counterparts. We call these creatures daemons, a representation of each person's truest form.

Rex has always been different from his brothers in little ways and every now and then his insecurities catch up with him. This time, however, he meets a new brother by the name of Cody and his kind daemon, and for once he may finally have found a friend he can rely on.

A Star Wars Daemon AU (based on concepts from His Dark Materials). Knowledge of the His Dark Materials universe is not required to read - all key concepts borrowed from the universe will be explained.

Read on AO3 HERE

When the Kaminoans first began producing clones they were most irritated by the small daemons that would always form beside each individual within moments of them being removed from their growth tanks. Originally they had hoped that because their creation was far from natural they would simply be born lacking them – much like many other sentient creatures across the galaxy that did not naturally have an Other – but apparently the universe had other ideas.

They had tried many times with the first few batches to try and remove the small creatures from their counterparts, but technology regarding daemons was a very niche field and not much was known about the side-effects of trying to sever the bond between man (or clone) and daemon. It seemed that when they tried to perform early separation trials it almost always ended in assets that lacked the determination and creative spark that their source material possessed, withdrawn and unfocused on the world around them.

Eventually, they decided that removing the daemons from their other half was simply more trouble than it was worth – it was irritating that they would have to deal with the creatures, but a passive army was simply not acceptable – and the research on daemon separation was placed on the backburner until they could find a more effective method. Of course, any defective clones produced were prime material for furthering their experiments, so it was sustainable to continue production and research both, pleasing their client most greatly.

They never truly paid much attention to what the clones did with their daemons and decided it wasn’t important to teach them anything about common daemon etiquette – it wouldn’t be useful on the battlefield, they just needed to know how to kill an opponent’s daemon if the chance presented itself – and so they were largely left to discover for themselves the proper ways of interacting with their daemons.

All of them seemed to be quick to learn that it was rather uncomfortable to grab at another clone’s daemon and vice versa, but they also learned that if they were gentle, then it wasn’t at all unpleasant to have another brother gently caress the Other of a trusted friend. Their trainers never saw the close, intimate bonding between daemons and those other than their counterpart, and the Kaminoans didn’t care enough about their interactions to be bothered by the behaviour considered taboo in most other cultures. It was because of this that batches of clones could often be found curled up together, their daemons snuggled into the sprawling mess of limbs, unconcerned with the possibility of nudging someone other than their respective partner.

It was brought up briefly in a few of their classes that they weren’t to physically try to grab an opponent’s daemon during a fight, and that it was frowned on to speak too much to someone else’s daemon, but that was the extent of their knowledge. It confused them greatly that it was not socially acceptable to speak to a trainer or superior officer’s Other, as it felt like they were ignoring half of a conversation’s participants, but none of them sought to challenge the notion.

While they were young the clones could allow their daemons to take whatever form they desired, but as soon as they could comprehend orders it was drilled into them that all of their daemons were to take the same form, regardless of whether they felt another form was more fitting to them. They were supposed to be an identical army and that included their Others. For most it wasn’t much of an issue – they loved their other halves regardless of the form they were forced to take – and with their accelerated growth it seemed that while the clones’ bodies grew, their daemons still didn’t begin to feel the need to try and settle until they reached twelve or thirteen years of age, despite physically being adults.

However, despite being largely cut off from the rest of the universe, there was still something that even clones found unsettling about daemons who shared their Other’s sex. Clones were supposed to have female daemons and for one to deviate was surely an early sign of some sort of defect, especially given how rare an occurrence it was.

For Rex, a clone who very clearly was different from the rest of his brothers with his blond hair, having a male daemon was absolutely terrifying. He had heard so many stories about brothers with mutations, defects, being sent down to the labs and often never coming back. He’d even seen some of the clones who didn’t even have daemons anymore and the sight of it alone had caused Naruul to bristle and practically shove the cadet away from the daemonless man, all sorts of feelings of wrong radiating from him.

Most nights Rex struggled to sleep, his gut twinging nervously as he ran through everything he’d done that day, picking everything apart. He had to make sure he was one of the best – any less and the Kaminoans would likely no longer tolerate his individuality – and the thought of possibly having his daemon taken away? It scared him more than anything the trainers could throw at him.

On his especially difficult days, when the effort of working above and beyond what was expected had worn him down, painful thoughts swarmed his mind. He loved Naruul, it was impossible not to love his own daemon, but on those days he often found himself wishing he would change. Why did they have to be different? Why couldn’t they just be the same as everyone else? He could tell that the thoughts hurt his poor daemon – he was essentially rejecting part of himself – and he could feel the painful, mixed emotions writhing through their bond and eventually coming to settle as guilt deep within his chest. It wasn’t Naruul’s fault they were different.

It was on one of these bad days, when Rex had taken to hiding in one of the disused supply closets, that he met Cody for the first time. He’d been trying his best to stay out of sight, muffling the weak sobs that escaped him by burying his face into the soft fur of his daemon, muttering an occasional apology to the large dog. He tried to keep them both quiet, but was failed at it miserably, for it was only a few moments before the door to the closet was cautiously pried open.

Immediately the young cadet began hurriedly wiping his face, praying that his eyes weren’t still red and watery as Naruul moved to put himself between his boy and whoever had discovered them. Neither were quite sure whether to be more worried or relieved when the concerned face of a fellow cadet and their canine daemon poked in through the small opening.

“Are you okay?” the other boy asked, his daemon already nudging her way through the door to join Rex and Naruul. He seemed to be a little older judging by his height and slightly more matured features, but his voice was still that soft, quiet voice of someone with still much growing yet to do.

“Yes.” Rex hated how his hoarse his voice was, frowning slightly at just how unconvincing he sounded.

The other clone’s worried expression only deepened, his eyebrows scrunching up slightly, “No you’re not,” he frowned, taking only a brief moment to check the coast was clear before slipping inside the closet and closing the door behind him, “what’s wrong?”

Naruul relaxed slightly, but still kept his body firmly between Rex and the other boy. If the boy decided to tease them it certainly wouldn’t be the first time it had happened and the dog was quite prepared to snap at the other daemon if needed. One of the few advantages of being a male daemon was that even though he was younger, he was still larger than most daemons as much as several months older than him.

Apparently realising that there was no way he’d get the younger clone to open up about what was bothering him just yet, the cadet continued, “I’m CC twenty two twenty four, and this is Jhanera,” he said quietly, gesturing to the daemon at his side, “But everyone just calls me Cody, what about you?”

Rex hesitated for a moment, glancing briefly at Naruul for any signs he distrusted the other. “CT Seventy five sixty seven, and this is Naruul. My batchers call me Rex though.” Much to his surprise, neither Cody nor Jhanera seemed to be off-put by the male daemon, instead grinning at the two of them. He grew tense when the other daemon approached Naruul, but quickly relaxed when she simply gave him a sniff, her tail batting from side to side and creating a soft thumping sound against the side of the supply closet.

“Good to meet you Rex, and you too Naruul,” Cody hummed, holding out a hand for said daemon to sniff, but otherwise didn’t try to encroach on their personal space. “We haven’t met a vod with a male daemon before,” he mused thoughtfully, lacking the undertone of disgust or fear that most usually had when addressing the subject.

“Vod? What’s that mean?” It was without doubt an obvious way to change the subject, but it was also a genuine question and it caused Cody to pause briefly.

“Oh! It means brother in Mando’a,” he explained, grinning broadly, “Some of the trainers have been teaching us how to speak it.” It made sense really, Cody’s number began with the abbreviation ‘CC’ for Clone Commander, and cadets who had been selected to be commanders underwent a different training regime, often with Mandalorian teachers.

Rex repeated the word to himself, testing how it felt on his tongue. It felt special, to know a word that not everyone could understand, and perhaps he could teach it to the rest of his batchers so they could use it with one another, away from Kaminoan ears. “Do you know any other words?” he asked softly, worried that he would irritate the older cadet with his questions – the trainers and Kaminoans didn’t appreciate it when a clone asked too many questions – but he was relieved to see the other child’s smile only widen.

“We don’t know too much just yet, they’ve only taught us a few words, but I know that ori’vod is what you call your older brothers and vod’ika is what you call younger brothers,” he rambled, “so I guess that makes you my vod’ika! I can call you that, right?” He continued when Rex nodded an affirmative, “And the trainers sometimes call us verd’ika, which I think means little warrior or little soldier?”

Rex had begun to ease up, his mind slowly forgetting what exactly had upset him in the first place, quickly being taken over by the eager need to learn. He’d once heard the Kaminoans say that they were ‘designed’ to be fast learners, and Rex had to agree with the statement, finding himself already soaking up the new words and adding them to his ever growing vocabulary. “What about our daemons? What do we call them?”

Cody paused in his babbling for a long moment, glancing at Jhanera as he tried to recall the word, “Runi. I think that’s the word, or at least that’s what the trainers refer to our daemons as, they don’t usually speak to our daemons by name.”

With the short lull in conversation Naruul had finally relaxed himself completely, laying down parallel to Jhanera with his head rested gently on Cody’s boot while his tail was tucked in beside Rex. It was rare for the daemon to show such trust to another so quickly, but after an exhausting day and the emotional toll that had come afterwards, he was just content to have another person nearby to watch over his boy while he rested for a little while.

Jhanera seemed to take his actions as an invitation to approach and clambered to her feet, giddily bouncing her way over to the other daemon only to flop down at his side, her own head rested between the other canine’s shoulder blades. When he turned to regard her, her tail began to thump happily, looking down at him with eyes that held no contempt, only a warmth that the daemon was unfamiliar with.

Part of him was scared of the strangeness of it all, but another part, the part that longed for company and companionship was absolutely thrilled with this development. They finally had someone they could refer to as an actual friend – someone for Rex to talk to when his insecurities became too much for boy and daemon to handle, and someone for Naruul to finally be able to interact with daemon-to-daemon – it was a new and uncertain feeling, but one that was very much welcome.

“We should probably go now, the rest of our group will probably miss us at dinner,” Cody finally said, using the wall he rested against to push off from the floor. Jhanera too happily scrabbled up into a standing position before looking towards Rex to address him, “you want to sit with us, vod’ika?”

“You want us to sit with you guys?” Rex could only stare somewhat in disbelief, glancing up at Cody for confirmation of his daemon’s words, “what about the rest of your batchers, will they want us there?”

Cody simply waved them off, “Of course they will, c’mon vod!”

Naruul looked over to Rex, blinking at him a few times in surprise, and the cadet couldn’t help laughing to himself. The evening had started out in tatters, but perhaps Cody and his Other could help to patch it up. He finally lifted himself from the floor, giving his daemon a reassuring pet on the top of his head, before following Cody and Jhanera out towards the mess hall.

#star wars #the clone wars #captain rex #commander cody #clones #daemons #daemon au #writing #guns n golden dust #fanfic

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saiilorstars · 4 years

Text

It Had To Be You

Ch.21: Being the Azalea // Story Masterlist

Fandom: The Flash

Pairings: Barry Allen x Female OC

Pronunciation of OC’s name: Bell-en. The last syllable has an emphasis so it’s not pronounced like ‘Helen’ would be.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: Belén continues to struggle controlling her powers, even making the decision to hold back on being the Azalea for a while. That all gets put to the test when 'the Trickster' makes an appearance.

{Previous chapters}

Barry stood in front of his usual board in the precinct lab, while Joe sat behind. "Alright, this is everything that we know about Harrison Wells." Much like the case of his mother, he pulled down a secret board down to reveal a brand new case - Dr. Well's - on there. "Which is actually not a lot."

Joe thought it ironic despite the problem at hand. "Didn't you read a whole book about him?"

"Yeah, 600 pages, and the big takeaway is, he's enigmatic."

"Your mom was killed by a speedster. Wells' machine turned you into a speedster. That's way too many coincidences for this old cop."

Barry shook his head, at a complete loss. "Do you think that he wanted me to become the Flash?"

Joe shrugged. "Everything he's done since that night you got struck by lightning... bringing you to STAR Labs, giving you the suit, training you... it's all been to keep you safe."

"And to make me faster. Wells once said that he needed more speed from me. Why?"

"I don't know. But he wants something from you, Barry. We just need to figure out what it is."

Barry was feeling like patience should just be damned. "Well, let's go get him then. Let's get some answers!"

Joe stood up and walked up to the board to take a closer look. "We can't do that now as much as we might want to."

"Joe, you had your suspicions about Wells from the very beginning. You thought that he might be the man in yellow."

"Except the blood from your house didn't match him," Joe reminded.

"Alright, so maybe he's not the Reverse-Flash, but you think that he knows what happened that night. He may have the key to getting my dad out of prison."

Joe sighed and looked away from the board."Whatever Wells wants from you, it started 15 years ago. He's been patient. Scary patient. You gotta listen to me on this. We have to be just as patient."

"Hello?" came the familiar chirpy voice. Barry immediately pulled down the board's common - public - paper just as Belén walked in. Despite his quickness, Belén detected she had walked in on a moment she wasn't invited to. "I should have waited downstairs…" she apologetically chuckled.

"No, no, it's fine," Joe gave Barry a look on how close it had been. For the moment, it was decided no one would know about their investigation on Wells. "I was leaving anyways."

"I don't quite believe that," Belén stopped by a table full of what she considered interesting science things.

In an attempt to steer the conversation away from anything dangerous, Joe casually asked, "You guys made plans?"

It had worked.

Belén nodded and turned to the detective. "Barry's buying me the drink he promised me so that I wouldn't come with him to see Snart."

Joe made a face and glanced at Barry. "You bought her off with drinks?"

"Don't get used to it," warned Belén. "I'm much more expensive - first time it's a pass."

Barry playfully rolled his eyes. Joe said his goodbyes and left the two in the lab. "Ready to go?" Barry went for his jacket left on the chair by the computer.

"Mhm…" Belén discreetly looked around, hoping to find something of a clue of what was truly going on.

Barry turned back as he put his jacket on and of course noticed her behavior. "Something's wrong?"

"You tell me," she lightly sighed. "For the last couple of days you've been...distant." Barry immediately, almost instinctively looked anywhere else that wasn't her. "Like you don't want to tell me something. I don't know, maybe...maybe you're rethinking this whole dating thing-"

"No that's not it!"

Belén smirked. Tricking him into admitting that had been far too easy and he was supposed to be the scientist. "So there is something?"

Barry shook his head. He couldn't tell her anything, at least not now. He thought it was the best call. He just forgot the part where she was a reporter.

"Barry, you know you can tell me anything right?" Belén spoke earnestly, and softly.

Nodding his head, Barry assured her he knew of this. Nothing left to say meant it was time for the drinks. Once they were out on the street, Barry felt it was time to cut the silence he knew was meant to make him come clean. Unfortunately for Belén, when he did speak up it wasn't to confess.

"I was thinking maybe we should try your training again…"

Belén's eyes widened, at first surprised but soon the fear filled her eyes. "You know I've been struggling out in the field..."

"I know but I also know that you're fighting it," Barry stopped walking to face her. "And it's for that same reason that you owe yourself to train."

"I know you're right, I really do," Belén took his hands, needing to feel his warmth and support. "Everything you're saying is right but...it's just difficult to accept," she sighed.

"I get it, you're scared-"

"No you don't, Barry," she shook her head. "You're sweet, but you don't get it. You have your powers like this," she made a fist with one of her hands. "Mine are like this-" she released her fist and waved her hand above her face. "My powers are complex and they scare me. If I lose control in one part, I lose control with everything."

"That's not true-"

"Yes it is!"

"Okay so we know that's not going away until we train again," Barry kept himself calm despite Belén's growing agitation with him. She needed calmness, understanding, something he was more than capable of giving. "Let's just...try one session. One session, you and I, and we can take it slow. Sound good?"

Belén stared at him for a minute before sighing. "I...I guess..."

"You can kick my ass for free," he said, smiling when she laughed. While she laughed, he swooped down and stole a kiss from her. She looped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. Words could not express how much better Barry made her feel at moments like these. She doubted words were ever going to be enough to describe it.

A loud explosion from a distance cut their moment short. As they pulled away from each other, a second explosion rocked the ground. They saw smoke billowing into the sky not too far from where they stood.

"Go, it'll be too long if I go get changed first," Belén urged him to go without her.

As the Flash he arrived at the city park to find a disturbing sight. Small gifts strapped to small parachutes were coming down to the park, exploding upon landing. Now everyone was running away with their children but Barry spotted one particular blonde boy that was still anxiously awaiting to grab one more falling gift. Barry sped over and snatched the kid in time, returning him to his father who'd been looking for him.

Not long after that, the culprit happily revealed himself through a video that went online fast. A young man dressed like a modern jester in class black and white leather declared himself the Trickster. "Tricked ya. Look who's back. My tricks. My treat. But I'll give you something good to eat. Today's special. A city in ashes. The Trickster proudly welcomes you all to the new disorder."

In the cortex, Cisco paused the video once it was finished and scowled. "Talking in the third person. That's never a good sign."

Caitlin threw him an amused smile. "You're just mad because he named himself."

"Actually, he didn't," Joe turned around, having been watching the video as well. "20 years ago, Central City was hit by a series of terrorist attacks. One man killed at least ten civilians, two cops. That guy called himself The Trickster."

"So he's a copycat?" Belén tilted her head but soon was captured by the news Cisco had found online about the original Trickster.

"Whoa. Someone was rocking the unitard," Cisco did his best not to laugh knowing the situation was serious.

"James Jesse?" Belén read part of the headline.

"Like Jesse James, only more twisted," Joe briefly explained.

"Where is this Mr. Jesse now?" Wells inquired.

"He's serving several life sentences at Iron Heights. He was just about the most dangerous thing Central City had ever seen."

"You mean until the Particle Accelerator blew up," Barry corrected, and rather coldly that someone had noticed.

"Um... Barry and I will go see this James Jesse at Iron Heights, see if he can give us something that can help us catch his groupie," Joe announced, instigating the rest to get to work.

"I'll analyze the video and see if I can figure out the source," Cisco straightened up and started on the computer.

"I'm heading to work too," Belén began getting out of her chair. "The news is hot today so...they'll be needing me."

"C'mon," Barry walked towards her, "We'll give you a lift." He didn't wait for her to openly agree. He took her hand and almost pulled her out of the room.

"Hey, Joe. Is Barry doing all right?" inquired Wells. "He seems cranky."

Joe tried playing it off as casualness, "Even The Flash wakes up on the wrong side of the bed some mornings. He's fine."

If he the same speed powers as Barry, he would've used them there and then.

~0~

CC Picture News was up and alive with the newest criminal town as Belén had said. She entered the building and had to dodge several of her co-workers before they crashed into her. When she reached her desk she plopped down with a heavy sigh of relief she made it without spills of any kind. Just as she was putting down her purse, Noah came up to the desk.

"Belén, did you hear about the new criminal?"

Scoffing - politely - Belén put her elbows on her desk, chin on her hands. "I think everyone's heard about him."

"He's calling himself the Trickster," it didn't appear like Noah had paid attention. He moved around the desk to be side-to-side with her, laying out a couple of papers he had brought with him.

"Is he now?" Belén tried her best to sound in the dark about the situation.

"Yeah, and the crazier thing is there was another guy - like twenty years ago - with the same name," Noah shuffled through the papers to find the very article that Cisco had pulled up earlier about James Jesse. He handed it to Belén for her to read. "So I was thinking that maybe it was connected some way."

Belén raised an eyebrow, genuinely bemused by him. "What are you? A reporter or a detective?"

"Don't those two kind of the same thing?" Noah smirked and shared a small laugh with her. "This guy - the new Trickster - is doing similar attacks as James Jessee did. Why would he do that?"

"Because he's a fan?" Belén tried the easiest answer she could.

"Obvious answers, Belén," Noah sarcastically looked at her. "Or maybe there's something deeper in there."

"But what?"

"That's what we need to find out," Noah declared, much to her further bemusement. "I asked Iris if she wanted to get in on the article but she's too immersed in Mason's disappearance."

"Right," Belén glanced over her shoulder to see Iris working at her desk, very quietly too. "There's been nothing on him yet?"

"Nothing," Noah was beginning to clear off his papers from her desk. "Boss has tried calling him and everything, but there's no response."

"It's weird," Belén leaned back on her chair, thinking about her annoying co-worker who, she did admit, she kind of missed. It had been a week since Mason mysteriously disappeared without a trace. And while on the first couple of days Belén joked and considered it their break from him, it was becoming a bit of a worry for her.

~ 0 ~

After a wild goose chase trying to find the newest Trickster, Barry and Joe returned to STAR Labs. They'd seen the newest video the young Trickster posted, all of which was just another warning for the city.

"Whoever this Trickster is, he's certainly not shy," Joe remarked after watching the video.

"Well, not every criminal likes to hide in the dark," Barry snidely commented, much to Joe's irritation. He'd been trying to get Barry to keep those types of comments to himself until they knew something concrete about Wells, but apparently it was too difficult for Barry.

"Cisco, can you trace where the video was posted from?" he asked Cisco, hoping for the conversation to keep moving and that Barry would no longer talk.

"I tried, but this guy is using some crazy Felicity-caliber scrambler like I've never seen. The origin of the upload's coming from hundreds of different locations. Until he uploads another video, it's gonna be tough."

"This psychopath has the capability to destroy the city," Barry frowned.

Cisco liked being optimistic and clarified, "Hey, I said tough, not impossible."

"Barry, we'll catch him," Caitlin tried to resassure, like the others sensing something was off with him.

"We always do. Mr. Allen, a word please?" asked Wells. He led Barry into one of the side rooms again, the training room, where they could talk freely. "I know what's going on with you. I know what you're thinking."

Barry found it incredibly hard not to make the face he was making right now, as Wells had his back to him. "Do you?"

"I know going up to Iron Heights prison and conversing with Mr. Jesse has brought about feelings of your father. How could it not?"

Barry forced himself to go with it and sighed. "Yeah, no, it's, uh, it's been really tough knowing that my mom's killer is still out there."

"Of course. But we'll find him, together. You have my word."

Barry wondered what fat good that was but on the outside politely said, "Thank you."

"For now, how about we focus on finding this Trickster before anybody else gets hurt?"

Silently, Barry gave a nod and forced himself to go at a normal pace outside the room. Right now, he just couldn't stand being near Dr. Wells.

~ 0 ~

"Hey, Bells?" Iris quietly approached Belén by the printer.

Belén pressed the printing button and glanced at her friend, immediately noticing the timid demeanor in Iris. "Hey girl, what's up?" Iris opened her mouth to say what she wanted but at the last moment closed it and plastered a little, fake smile. "Iris?" Belén tilted her head, gesturing her to say what she needed to.

Sighing, Iris took a discreet look around in case anyone would hear. When she spoke, it was still quiet. "Have you heard anything about Mason?"

"No, I'm just as lost as you are," Belén shrugged, glancing to see if her papers were printing out correctly.

"Yeah, well, I talked to Eddie about it at the CCPD but he's got a load of work because of that Trickster guy so Mason's case would be last priority," Iris then bit her lip while nervously smiling.

"I feel like there's a favor to be asked," Belén said after seeing Iris' face.

Iris stepped a little closer and spoke even quieter, a faint whisper merely. "Do you think you could ask the Flash and the Azalea to look into it?"

"I-I'm sorry?" Belén was caught off guard by this question that she nearly dropped her papers she'd been picking up from the printer.

"I know it's a humongous favor and I will owe you big time but I'm just really worried here," Iris tried her best to sound reasonable. "When Mason is on a story, nothing is getting in his way. I mean, he considers threats minor annoyances."

"I know that," Belén nodded her head, "But...to ask the Flash and the Azalea? I don't...I don't know…"

"It's the best idea considering where the police's attention is at the moment."

"I don't know...I mean, I don't know how to contact them," Belén tried to say but Iris gave her a 'really' expression that shut down that excuse.

"The Flash personally came to give you the story of the week - for sure he'll come if you ask. C'mon, Bells. Look if you don't wanna go then I guess I can just go back on my old blog and see if one of them answers-"

"No!" Belén said far too fast. At Iris' bemused face she tried correcting it in some way. "I mean, I guess I can look into it." She would prefer to keep this call on the down-low. The last thing they needed was for Iris to put herself in danger using that old blog of hers.

Iris' expression flipped like a switch after hearing that. "So then you'll do it!?"

Now Belén was caught back because she knew that was basically what she had said. "Well, um...I mean...I guess...I can give...one a call..?"

"You're such a good friend!" Iris threw her arms around Belén, giving her a ridiculous excited hug which made Belén laugh in the end.

~ 0 ~

"We have got a problem," Belén walked into STAR Labs later that day, surely enough finding Barry, Caitlin and Cisco there.

"You know-" Cisco turned on his chair to face her direction, "-most people say 'good afternoon'."

Belén rolled her eyes and plopped her bag over his lap, continuing her conversation. "Iris just asked me to get in contact with the Flash and the Azalea."

"Really?" Caitlin spoke before Barry could. "She hasn't done that in a long time. I actually thought she forgot about it completely."

"Yeah well, with Mason's disappearance she's up and active again," Belén sighed and now looked at Barry. "I don't know what to do but at that moment I had to tell her okay. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, I know how Iris can get sometimes," Barry walked over and gave her a hug.

"I'm still sorry, I should have told her I would think about it so I could come talk to you about it," she looked up at him. "But my big mouth said I'd call you and I guess me."

"She's not gonna give up until one of us goes," Barry said, thinking about the possible ways this could go.

"So who goes?" asked Cisco curiously.

"Barry," Belén instantly said, earning herself a wide-eyed response from the man. "Can we get a moment guys?" she looked at the other two. "Just a minute, I promise."

"Sure," Caitlin got up first and motioned Cisco to follow her out.

Now Barry didn't need to think twice to know what Belén was going to tell him. And while it was frustrating to go through this again, he understood she was just scared to use her powers around Iris. "You don't want to go see Iris as the Azalea because you're scared you'll lose control, right?"

"That-" Belén pointed at him, "-is why I like you. You're incredibly smart."

Her forced smile didn't fool him. Swaying his head, he came up with an alternative way to approach the same subject. "Or, we could both go and I could keep an eye on you…"

"I wouldn't be comfortable," Belén quietly objected. Her expression wasn't one that was ready to argue the hell out of it. She had decided it already, and was just waiting for him to get on board with the idea.

"First you're scared of training and now you wanna pull back on your time being the Azalea? Bells, c'mon!"

"I don't know what I want to do, Barry, to be honest," Belén admitted for the first time. "I became the Azalea to find my brother but...now my brother's evil so what does it really matter if I stop being the Azalea?"

"Hey it matters," Barry was looking at her incredulously. "Because when you came to Central City wearing that mask you made a commitment to the people. And Bells, the people love you," Belén scoffed, "They do. You've become a part of the city and nobody wants to see her go."

Belén stared hard at the floor, truly thinking about his words and the meaning he put into them. Seconds later she felt his arms wrap around her from behind, actually making her think he gave a mean hug. "Can you just please go for tonight?" she whispered, tilting her head to look at him. "And then...we can continue discussing...I promise."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Okay," Barry said, although making it a conditional 'okay'. "What's the story?"

"Um…" Belén thought about it for a moment, "...I gave you a call?"

Barry laughed. "So you're just casually going to let it out that you have the Flash's number?"

"Fine - e-mail," Belén shrugged and turned around. "WhatsApp?"

"Now you're just playing with me!"

Belén nodded her head, chuckling. "Maybe a little," she admitted and draped her arms over his shoulders for another hug. "But we better get our stories straight because Iris West is no fool."

"No she is not," agreed Barry and both laughed again.

~ 0 ~

Needless to say that when Iris got a call from Belén telling her it was all set up, the reporter was up and thanking Belén up to who knew what Gods. It was so nice to hear someone happy that Belén didn't mind Iris picking the place for their meeting.

"You still have a key to this place?" Belén was cautious as they both walked into the closed Jitters' in the night.

Iris smiled deviously to herself as she closed the door behind them. "They don't quite know I still have it."

"Shouldn't you - I don't know - give it back to them?" The response Belén got was a loud laughter. "Okay, so, um...I don't suppose there's still coffee behind there?" Belén leaned towards the counter in case there was a random pot of coffee she knew was probably not going to be there.

At that moment, Barry sped in through the back door of the place and was careful to stay in the shadows. Iris was stunned to see him again, and while Belén walked away from the counter, the other reporter tried gathering her words so she didn't sound like an idiot.

"Mind my asking but why are we meeting here?" Barry genuinely asked them both while taking a look at the place.

"Ask my friend," Belén replied, chuckling.

"I still have a key," shrugged Iris, although her attempted casual demeanor was not going so well.

"So what's going on?" Barry asked.

"Iris has a problem…" Belén trailed off and glanced back at Iris who'd stayed a bit behind.

"U-um, my coworker, Mason Bridge is missing," Iris remembered the severity of her problem and got over her nervousness. "He's not at home. He's not answering his phone. I mean, it's not like him. I am really worried that something bad has happened."

"Truthfully so am I," admitted Belén after a moment, "I mean, yeah Mason was a bit of a prick but...his job was everything to him. He wouldn't leave it like that."

"I'm...sure he's fine," Barry tried sounding convincing but the look he was getting from Belén told him he was failing. Even in darkness her eyes were burning on him.

And now that he was avoiding her look, Belén detected there was something he wasn't telling her. Without thinking, she stepped towards him, closer, much to Iris' curiosity. "I know Mason - longer than Iris, and definitely more than you - and I know that he wouldn't do something like this.''

"Maybe he's-"

Belén sighed when she saw him going in another excuse attempt. "Will you look into it? ...for me?"

Even if he could show his face at her at that moment Barry knew he probably wouldn't. Those pleading eyes of her was stronger than she knew, and it was already a part of him - a part of the Flash - to help Belén Palayta. Of course he would do it for her.

"For you, anything," he responded in a soft voice.

Belén smiled at him. She couldn't help but remember their first meetings like this, where she hadn't known who he was, and the feelings that perhaps were there at the time. All those reprimands and denying with Nina made her laugh inside. If only she had known then where she would be now.

"Heads up," Cisco's voice in the suit's earpod startled Barry. "Trickster's broadcasting again."

Barry looked past Belén to Iris, the latter now with an unreadable face. "Can I borrow your laptop?"

Iris blinked away her stupor and nodded. "Um, sure. Help…" but Barry sped over in half a second to get her laptop. By the time Iris turned around he was already working at it. "...yourself…"

Belén hurriedly crossed the room to get a closer look at the screen. It was the young Trickster again, making a new recording. This time he stood in front of a wooden box with a drawn picture of a cartoon bomb.

"Get ready for the games to begin! I have...a bomb. It's a big bomb. It'll make a big bang and then a big hole and then a big drop in the pop-ulation. But never say The Trickster is not fair. The bomb is somewhere between 52nd Street and Avenue B."

"Oh my God," Iris covered her mouth in disgust at the new trick on them.

Belén wasn't surprised, much like Barry. He got up quickly and turned to her, both silently agreeing he should he going while she stayed with Iris.

"Be careful okay?" He couldn't leave without saying first.

She nodded her head, slightly smiling. "Of course. But you too."

With a smile of his own, Barry sped out of the building. Belén moved to the computer, barely closing its lid when Iris blurted, "Oh my God! He likes you!"

"What?" Belén tried keeping her widened eyes out of sight while picking up Iris' laptop from the table.

"The Flash - he likes you! Oh my God, that's why he kept coming to you with all the stories," Iris walked straight up to her, wearing a cross of amusement and surprise on her face. "Belén, what he did - all he did - was for you. He so likes you."

The laugh that came out of Belén was not one that clearly defended her proclaimed innocence. "Iris, you're just confused."

"Oh no I am not! I was watching you two, and it was...it was like I was intruding on some private meeting," she looked to the side, "Can you imagine what Barry would feel like if he knew this?"

Belén fought the urge to respond with the truth. She didn't want Iris thinking there was some kind of cheating going on. Because if that was the case then she would tell Iris everything right there.

"You gotta be careful, Belén," Iris continued, taking her laptop back. "I mean, he does know you're going out with someone right?"

A quirky smile spread across Belén's face. "Oh, he knows alright. Trust me."

"Good," Iris nodded.

"You're putting way too much thought into this," Belén laughed and made way for the door.

"I can't believe you hadn't noticed!" Iris went after her, still very much in shock. "The frikin Flash likes you! How does that feel!? To have the city's hero's heart?"

Belén shook her head, holding the door for Iris, while trying not to laugh again. "You're exaggerating. Have I mentioned you're crazy too?"

"No I am not!" Iris exclaimed, and she didn't give up on the topic as they headed home.

~0~

Like the police, Barry was doing his best to find the bomb before it went off. Speeding through, he went through every last building and corner through the streets the young Trickster had covered. At the end, he stopped for a moment to get in contact with the others.

"Guys, I can't find it. I need your help!"

"There's nothing on traffic cams or CCTV," Caitlin reported after an intensive search.

Cisco agreed. "I re-tasked the STAR Labs satellite to scan the area for incendiary devices. A bomb that large should be giving off some kind of thermal or chemical signature."

"Well, then why can't you find it?" Barry asked, rather impatient and frantic.

And then it clicked. "Because it's a trick. The bomb's not there," informed Wells.

"No, it has to be. I'm gonna keep looking."

Wells shook his head. "That is what he wants, for you and the police to keep running around in circles. There is something else going on, Barry. I can feel it. Now, trust me."

Barry thought about it for a short second and decided he really couldn't trust Wells anymore. "I'm gonna keep looking," he declared instead and continued to speed through the streets.

"Barry?" called Wells but the metahuman didn't answer anymore.

Cisco, confused like Caitlin, glanced at Wells. "Why doesn't he just listen to you?"

Barry continued ignoring the others as he went in search of the bomb. He eventually came across an old basement in one of the buildings that contained the familiar box.

"I found it!" He exclaimed and opened up the box. Unfortunately, he found the words 'Tricked you' on the lid inside, and he realized that the box was empty.

It was then that Cisco got a ping from the Iron Heights prison. Looking into it, he discovered it was far worse than usual.

"There's an explosion at Iron Heights!"

Well tried not to sound a know it all but he had been correct. "This was all a diversion. The prison was the real target. James Jesse. I guess he's tricked us all."

Hearing this, Barry quit the basement and got in contact with Joe through the earpod.

"Joe, there's no bomb in this city. It was a diversion so The Trickster could help James Jesse escape."

"I know," responded Joe, sounding grim. "We just got surveillance footage from Iron Heights. Jesse got away. Barry, look, they took a hostage."

Barry frowned, feeling even worse then. If he had listened earlier he would've been there. "Well, who did he take? A guard? The warden?"

"No. Your dad."

~0~

Night had turned into morning, and while everyone at STAR Labs and the CCPD worked long and hard, they were only able to solve one thing.

"We were able to identify the other Trickster," Joe told the rest of the team. "His name's Axel Walker, age 25. Apparently him and James have been corresponding through snail mail for over a decade."

"I should have been there," Barry kept repeating ever since he had entered the cortex. He was beyond furious...and beyond terrified.

"We're gonna find your dad, okay?" Caitlin assured, although she didn't know how her words would go on him.

Barry ignored them as he got up from his chair. "I guess I should have listened to you," he sourly aimed at Wells then left the place in a stalk.

No one blamed Barry for his mood, it was perfectly understandable. Still, there were decisions they didn't quite agree with but didn't voice it. And a while later, one of those decisions walked in.

"Please tell me we have more news on these maniac," Belén walked in holding a cup of Jitters coffee in one hand. As she drank, she noticed the uneasy glances the group was sharing. "What is it?"

"We wanted to call you…" Cisco resorted to an explanation she probably did deserve, "...but Barry said no…"

"To tell me what?" Belén frowned, lowering her coffee and bag.

"Last night we figured out the bomb was a diversion...and James Jesse escaped," Caitlin slowly explained, glancing at the others just to make sure they were all on board.

"Why do I get the feeling there's something worse?" Belén spoke her intuition she now felt at the pit of her stomach.

"He took a hostage with him," Joe said, and like a bandage he ripped it off with the truth. "It was Barry's dad."

Belén's eyes widened till they couldn't. The first few seconds displayed shock but then came the inevitable irritation from not being told right away. "How could nobody have told me about this!? It's mighty important!"

"Barry decided to hold it off for the night," Dr. Wells explained, not that it mattered for Belén was rightly angry now.

"Well, I'm gonna go tell him why that was wrong," she declared, hastily setting her things down at the desk. "Where the hell is he!?"

"You know, maybe it's not the best time…" Cisco began but was promptly silenced with a glare. "He's down in the pipeline,."

With a huff, Belén turned and marched out of the room. Everyone else turned on Cisco with disapproving looks for his easy answers.

"She scares me," Cisco said like it should've been a reasonable excuse.

~ 0 ~

The plan was to scold Barry for his stupid decision and then, ultimately, try and comfort him during the hard time Belén was sure he was going through. But then she found him in the pipeline sitting on the floor alone. She silently walked towards him, feeling her initial annoyance fading the more she looked at him. By the time she reached him, the idea of scolding him had been thrown out the window.

"Hey," she greeted softly, taking a seat on her knees right beside him.

He didn't seem surprised she was visiting him, but he did look nervous. "You know…?"

"Oh that you decided not to tell me your father had been kidnapped last night because in your deluded mind it was much better for me to be in the dark?"

He draped his arms over his knees he'd pulled up and leaned his head on them. "I just...thought you deserved to sleep well for tonight."

"While I appreciate that, I would much rather prefer to be in the know of what's happening in my boyfriend's life. Especially when it concerns his father's life."

"Are you mad?" Barry asked, truthfully a little worried he would now have to worry about that.

"I was annoyed," Belén rolled her eyes. "But I'm letting it slide because you're cute and you have a lot on your plate today."

"I am sorry though," he raised his head but couldn't afford to look at her at the moment. He felt all the fear inside mixing with anger and yet another layer of fear.

"It's okay," Belén rubbed his arm and scooted closer to him. "How are you?"

Barry truly did consider words to voice his feelings but...it became difficult to find the right words that would express them. "I don't...I don't know if my dad's still alive," came out of his mouth. He hadn't realized that his eyes were becoming teary.

"Of course he is," Belén quickly said. "James took your father as proper leverage and that only works as long as he's alive." A couple seconds later she wondered if those had been truly the best words she could come up with. "Plus," she then added, trying lift up the mood, "everyone upstairs is looking to find him."

That was supposed to reassure Barry but now all he thought of was the fact that the person who may have murdered his mother was now dealing with his father's fate. He closed his eyes, releasing a tiny, shaky sigh through his lips.

"I can't...I can't do this…" he struggled.

Belén took that as still regarding his father's situation and three her arms over him, forming a side hug. "We're gonna find him, I promise you. I will go out there as the Azalea if I have to but your dad is coming back. I swear." She planted a kiss on his cheek with a bright smile just for him.

Feeling her touch made him smile. He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. Belén saw sad, teary eyes before her and wanted nothing more than to make the pain go away. If roles were reversed, she was sure Barry would think the same way for her. She had so much she wanted to give to him - she wanted to see him happy - and she knew how she would start.

Leaning forwards, she pressed a short kiss to his lips. When she pulled away she sported a tint of pink on her cheeks, but a smile nonetheless was on her face. In that moment Barry had never felt so grateful to have something good - particularly this good - in his life. He reached with one hand to brush his fingers across her cheeks. Without warning, he shifted a bit on his side and kissed her again. While it had been a surprise for her, Belén fell into the moment and let it continue for as long as they could. If only breathing hadn't been an issue.

With a bright red face, Belén smiled sheepishly. "I think...you are definitely my best boyfriend."

Barry made a bemused face at her. "Really?"

"Definitely best kisser," she nodded, chuckling when she practically saw his ego swell.

"Well…" he began, making her laugh even more.

"Okay, I take that comment back," she said when she could talk without laughing. After a short minute she sobered up and took his nearest hand. "Look, no matter what, you are not alone in this. I am here, right beside you."

"Thank you, Bells," Barry said, interlacing his fingers with hers.

"I'm gonna go call work and tell them I can't do tonight's event so that I can stay here," Belén announced, already making a move to get up when Barry protested and pulled her down.

"What event?"

Belén rolled her eyes. "It's not important. The mayor's having a fundraiser and they wanted me, Noah and Iris to visit to get some info."

"That sounds important…"

"It's really not…"

"I don't want you to get into trouble because of me, okay? Please, just go to your event-"

Belén was already shaking her head in refusal. "I'm not leaving you."

"It really would make me feel better knowing you are doing your job that I know is important to you," Barry covered their interlocked hands with his other one. Belén seemed might unsure of this idea but Barry was persistent. "I promise if anything happens I'll call you."

"Barry…"

"I will speed you there myself if I have to," he resorted to warnings, much to her amusement.

"You don't even know where it is!"

"Power of Google, my dear, it's very helpful."

Belén sighed in resignation. "Fine. But there goes me trying to be a good girlfriend by sticking with you when you need me."

Barry scoffed. "What are you talking about? I think you are my best girlfriend that I've ever had."

A small giggle escaped through Belén's lips as she remarked, "You've only had two girlfriends before me, Barry, so I don't think it really counts."

Barry frowned. "No more hanging out with Iris."

Belén playfully rolled her eyes and got up, pulling him with her. "You let me know if anything happens okay? No matter what."

"I promise," Barry truthfully returned. Satisfied with his response, she gave him a quick - but meaningful - hug then hurried out.

Watching her go, Barry realized he had felt a little better after her visit. She just had that power on him.

~ 0 ~

In a nice pink, laced dress Belén attended the public mayor's fundraising along with Iris and Noah. The three walked up to the check in table where they showed their work identifications to the check-in people.

"You sure you're okay?" Iris asked her after they had left the check-in table.

"No, but I'm here anyways," Belén responded with nothing but the truth.

"Barry told you it was fine," Iris reminded, accepting a glass of champagne from a young man on the way. "This is your work, after all, and you don't play with it."

"Champagne, miss?" an older waiter man stopped beside with a tray of champagne glasses.

"Thanks," in her distraction she didn't see just who was the waiter offering her the drink. She took the glass and right away took a sip.

Noah took second glass and did the same thing. "Relax, Belén," he distractedly said, not really caring what was going on.

Iris walked over to the mayor she spotted near the platform and began a conversation. Noah remained beside Belén watching the procession, but discreetly noticed her constantly checking her phone. He was sure it had to do something with the Flash considering they still had the runaway prisoner, and more so considering they'd taken her boyfriend's father as a hostage.

Then it hit. An idea.

"You know Belén, this is sort of relating back to my initial thoughts about these metahumans," he began, turning to her. This time she didn't appear angry nor irritated at the least by his comment. "It's bad news - the lot of them. Look what they did to your boyfriend's father."

"Technically, James Jesse is not a metahuman," Belén corrected, still moaning a suave attitude. "He's a regular crazy criminal."

"But he's got the Flash after him and because of it he took some poor man to threaten him with."

"This isn't the Flash's fault, Noah. It was...an unfortunate event. And I am sure he is out there looking for Henry Allen."

"They're bad news, and they need to be eliminated at their core."

Now this struck Belén oddly, especially the determination in Noah's voice. She lowered her glass and looked to the side, considering what all this meant. "You mean...like...eliminate the leader? Who would that be exactly?" she chuckled then, shaking her head. "You better not think it's the Flash because that's ridiculous."

"Of course not," Noah responded, well aware he was letting more loose than he wanted. "But he's part of it. He's in league with them."

Belén really struggled not to sound so bias but it was difficult knowing how wrong Noah was. "And in your mind who the hell runs the strings with the metahumans?"

"STAR Labs," Noah wasn't afraid to answer. He looked Belén dead in the eyes, despite her mixture of emotions at the moment, and explained more. "Dr. Wells is responsible for all the metahumans in the first place, as well as all the causalities that followed. Everyone who works there is also at fault for creating the particle accelerator."

Surprise was gone, as well as confusion. All that filled Belén at that moment was nothing but anger. "I'm going to remind you that my boyfriend was saved by those people-"

"-because of guilt," Noah snapped, unable to keep his own biases away. "Need I remind you that it was because this stupid accelerator was created my mother - my last parent - died? Belén, even your own father was killed by a metahuman!"

"That had nothing to do with Wells nor STAR Labs!" Belén pointed out, her voice rising so that others were beginning to look at them. "Metahumans think for their selves - their thoughts are not run by STAR Labs. And the fact you think all this is possible really shows me the kind of person you are."

"Oh, really?" scoffed Noah.

"Yes, really," mimicked Belén. "You're not the type of friend I want to have nor work with." Giving him a narrowed look, she walked away before things escalated more.

"Hey-" Iris stopped her near the platform, one hand on Belén's arm, "-what was that all about?" she discreetly nodded towards Noah who'd remained far in the back.

"He's an idiot, that's what," Belén angrily rolled her eyes.

"What he do?" Iris asked in concern, truthfully rarely seeing her friend so worked up about something unless it was important.

"I'd rather not waste my breath on him," Belén answered and plastered a little smile to get by.

At that moment, someone took the stage and the podium. "Welcome, welcome," began the elder man - a James Jesse - who seemed delighted with the turn out of his plans, "Centrla City's finest. How about a toast to Mayor Anthony Bellows? He doesn't just yell at his staff, he bellows!" But hardly anyone in the crowd laughed to his joke. Belén squinted her eyes at the properly dressed waiter, trying to figure out who he was. "You see what I did there with the wordplay and the...tough crowd."

The Mayor had hastily made his way up to the stage to see it all stopped. "Excuse me," he said to James after placing a hand on the microphone, "Who are you?"

"How quickly they forget," James mumbled to his partner - and apparent son - Axel who stood beside him now. He cleared his throat, getting ready to make the presentation of his life. "James Jesse, your honor, aka-" he ruffled his hair and smirked as he faced the crowd, "-The Trickster. And I'm here to relieve you fine people from all your money. Because we know if you're in this room, you've got loads of it."

"Oh no," Belén's eyes widened.

"What makes you think that anyone in this room would give you a cent?" the Mayor seemed to want to laugh at what he thought was an utter hoax.

"Because that champagne they just slurped down like so much fruit punch... I added a little something special to it," James said to the crowd, and everyone began suspiciously looking at their glasses. "Trimethylmercury 32. Poison. Without the antidote, you'll begin to feel the effects in about, oh, um... One hour."

A couple seconds later one man started coughing loudly, and in his stumbles he came forwards to reveal he had some sort of foam slipping through his mouth.

"I remember you," James pointed at him with a widened smile. "You got to the party about an hour early. I offered you the very first glass of champagne."

The man continued to cough until the foam covered his throat. He collapsed on the ground dead minutes later.

James chuckled along with Axel. "An hour is plenty of time for all of you to call your bankers and transfer everything you have to the account number on the bottom of your glass," he gestured to the crowd to get started. "Once my young friend and I are rich, you'll get the antidote. If any of you decide to call 911 instead, well, then we switch to lead poisoning." As a show, he pulled out a gun and raised high in the air to issue the start of the blackmail.

"We'll see about that," Belén mumbled and pulled Iris towards the middle of the crowd where they would hopefully blend in.

"What are you doing!?" Iris whispered-yelled at her when she saw Belén pulling her phone out.

"Shhh," Belén put a finger on her lips as she hit a number. She shifted Iris so that both faced the front and Belén left her phone between them while Jesse continued to talk.

~ 0 ~

"Anything?" Joe asked the three STAR Labs employees who did, truthfully, worked at fast paced on the computers.

"I'm scanning all the traffic cams in the city. I got nothing," Cisco took a moment to look at Joe but quickly got back to the computer.

Barry was at the threshold of the cortex listening to everyone yet not really listening at the same time. The only reason he snapped out of his trance was because he felt his phone vibrating in his jean's pocket. He pulled it out to see Belén's name and answered it.

"Bells?" he answered but received a some indistinct talking from the other side. As he paid more attention, he realized he knew one of the voices that was speaking over everyone else's. "Guys?" he quickly leaned off the threshold and rushed for the desk. "It's Belén's phone but listen…"

Putting his phone on speaker they all heard James Jesse on the other line.

'How many of you feel the Trimethyline 32 coursing through your veins, hmm?'

"That's him. That's Jesse," Barry urgently said, realizing Belén was somehow with him and more people.

"Cisco, can you ping her phone?" Joe immediately asked.

"Just find out where the mayor's having a fundraiser," Barry said to Cisco. "She, Iris and Noah are there for their jobs."

"Iris is there!?" Joe nearly lost it.

"I'm on it," Cisco quickly searched for the location.

Meanwhile, Caitlin had been searching for the strange name James had mentioned and came to some bad results. "Trimethylmercury 32 is a relatively fast-acting poison."

"Is there a cure?" Barry panicked.

"Yes," Wells assured. "Yes. We can start synthesizing the antidote right now."

"Hurry - Belén is there and she's...not exactly herself," Barry left it at that for the moment. He knew why she had called him in the first place. She didn't feel confident enough to come out as the Azalea. She needed him. And he was going to help her.

~ 0 ~

Belén had long stuffed her phone inside her bag and kept Iris close to her while everyone called for their bank accounts to be drained. She couldn't find Noah anywhere though. Despite their argument she didn't want him to get hurt.

"I don't see him," Iris said quietly as they continued their search through the crowd.

"Just...keep looking, he has to be around here somewhere," Belén politely moved around a couple who were fervently talking on their respective cellphones.

"Maybe he's just drunk and doesn't even realize what's going on," Iris suggested.

They were now at the front and as they were moving down, James cut in front of them.

"Eugh, what do you want?" Belén took a step back with Iris.

"You know, I've been in prison for 20 years," he informed with a widened smirk, but neither woman was amused.

"Then you'll know the routine when you get sent back," Iris promptly replied, instigating a deep glare from the man in response.

"You're not getting away with it," Belén declared, much to the man's amusement. "The Flash is gonna get you."

"Oh really?" it was James' turn to scoff in disbelief.

"Yes and-"

But James was blasted with a shot of ice that pushed him against the wall across the room. Belén was so stunned that Iris had to pull her back as another blast shot past her.

"I'm gonna need that antidote now," Azul stood on the platform with his hands glowing blue, indicating there was to be a third blow coming.

"What is he doing here?" frowned Belén. Azul hopped off the stage with eyes trained on James - the latter being surprised of this new metahuman he hadn't been expecting. But as Azul got closer Belén noticed there was something off in his eyes - was he drunk?

"Oh my god he's drunk," Belén mumbled, stepping back with Iris.

"What!?" Iris gaped. What kind of metahuman was this!?

"I said: GIVE ME THE ANTIDOTE!" Azul made to hit again but this time Barry had come in - as the Flash - and blocked him.

"You reek of champagne," he frowned.

"Get the hell out of my way, speedy," Azul went to use his powers but Barry was far quicker and chucked him across the stage.

After making a quick glance to see if Belén was fine he went for the real problem. He grabbed James by the collars and pinned him on the wall again. "Where's Henry Allen?"

James was groggy but not that much to not know when to put the second part of his plan to action. "He's where you'll be soon. Heaven!"

Axel appeared and slapped something on Barry's wrist. When Barry looked down he saw some sort of contraption beginning to beep.

"Are you familiar with the movie Speed?" asked James with a wicked smile. "Keanu Reeves, Sandra Bullock? See, you're the bus, and that's the bomb. A kinetic bomb, actually, and if you go below 600 miles per hour, it'll explode. Same thing happens if you try to remove it."

"Here we go," Axel declared and flipped a switch on the contraption that lit it up.

"Ooh, it's active. Run, run, run, run, run!" laughed James.

Barry had only a second to think before he dashed out of the building. Belén swallowed hard as she saw her last help leave.

"Great, what happens now?" Iris looked around. "Where's the Azalea?"

The mere question made Belén shake a little. She bit her nail and happened to look down where she saw her phone lighting up inside her bag. She could clearly see the name 'Cisco' on it and panicked even more. She stuffed her things over the cellphone and tried to not to think about it. But as seconds ticked by, minutes ticked by, it was becoming a real struggle. Azul was getting up from the stage, looking ready to fight again. And drunk.

"Someone needs to stop him…" Iris was desperately looking about as if someone else was going to step in before anyone got hurt.

"He's coming back," Belén said as a means of comfort. But the moment Azul struck a bystander in the crowd all calmness went to hell.

"I WANT THE ANTIDOTE!" He shouted, actively searching for the two culprits that merged within the crowd. No one dared leave the building because of the poison, causing even more pandemonium. "If I don't get the antidote people will get hurt - fork it over!"

And to prove his point, he shot mystical ice bits that grazed some of the crowd and actually stabbed someone on the leg.

"Oh my God!" Iris clapped a hand to her mouth.

Belén was, also, horrified that Azul was going to these measures to get the antidote. He truly was out of his mind for the night.

"Where's the Azalea!?" Iris kept her hopes up that the MIA partner would show up.

Belén knew it was useless to reassure that the Flash was coming back to help them. Azul was making his way through, hurting those he passed by. She also kept hearing her phone vibrate amongst the things she carried in her bag, reminding that STAR Labs was still pushing her to be someone she was afraid of.

But even then, she didn't have her suit. If she wanted to keep her identity a secret she would have to...go green. That terrified her to the core.

"WHERE IS IT!?" screamed Azul as he came to a stop in the middle of the crowd. Everyone retracted several steps away but he yanked the nearest attendee, a suited man, by the collars. "I guess I'll have to shake it out of everyone until it appears."

From the corner, Belén was able to see James Jesse and Axel trying to sneak into another hiding spot. Due to that, she missed Azul throwing the innocent man back. Iris yelped when the man landed mere inches from her feet.

"How about you princess?" Azul turned on her. "Think we can get some answers if I come for you next?"

Iris felt her feet frozen at the floor from fear. But when she looked down she saw that it wasn't actually from fear. Azul had made ice creep up to her heels and tips.

"I-I don't have anything!" Iris exclaimed, dropping her bag instantly.

"Let's find out who does," Azul said with a warning blue hand.

But at the same time he was struck from the side, across the face, by a thick, green vine that knocked him to the floor. Iris gasped and quickly looked for the source she was already assuming who was the Azalea.

Sure enough, she stood at the other side, with her emerald green, scaly skin. Without her suit she had entrusted her vines and roots to cover it up and at least impersonate some new vine dress. Her pulled hair remained the same but covered in bits of vines.

"Woah, new look," Iris remarked while immediately moving around to return to the crowd.

Belén didn't waste time in talking to her, for she could feel the terrible turmoil inside her. She didn't want to lose control in the middle of so many people. Looking to her right, she thrust a hand forwards, barring James and Axel a clean hideout. "You better give these people their antidotes now."

"And what if we don't?" challenged Axel.

Belén raised an eyebrow. Using the same vine, she swatted them like bugs against a wall. "That gets to happen again...and again...and again."

"Watch out!" she heard Iris frantically call to her. She barely had time to process when she felt a blow to the stomach that sent her to the floor, flat on her back.

Azul had gotten up and was ready for some payback. "I am sick and tired of your stupid brother giving you freebies!" He struck her with shards of ice that pinned her to the floor. She hissed at their coldness, and grew even more concerned when she felt a growl trying to escape her lips. "You shouldn't even be allowed to join us," continued Azul, who was now walking for her, "No, you should die like everyone else in STAR Labs. Because you are and will always be in league with them instead of your own family!" During his words, he kept shooting at her, although now she was trying to defend herself.

Belén growled and swung a vine towards him, grabbing him by the waist and smacking him to the ground. She could feel her mind frazzling with so many different thoughts and emotions, most of them not in her control. Nearly screaming she entangled him with vines here and there, wrapping him like a cocoon till he couldn't move anymore. Then, wearily, she turned where she had left James and Axel across.

"Your turn," she whispered and made a step forwards when she felt a sharp jab at her arm. "Ow!" the pain she felt snapped her out of early trance, allowing her to see that Barry had returned with an antidote...and thankfully with no exploding contraption on his wrist.

Barry exchanged a look with her, showing he was overly worried and this time so was Belén. Because she remembered this time.

"It's okay. You've all been given an antidote," he addressed the stricken crowd who was left looking from one odd person to the next.

"Over there," Belén pointed Barry towards the two criminals on the floor.

He sped towards them and picked both up."Now where is Henry Allen? You're going to prison either way, James."

"Unless you want me to go all swatty again," warned Belén who was already conjuring up another vine.

Seeing that made James sing like a canary.

~0~

"Now I want you to take it easy alright?" Caitlin warned Belén after securing the last bandage on the side of Belén's stomach. "You don't heal fast like others-"

Belén made a loud, clearly annoyed, sigh. "Yeah, believe me, I've figured that out the hard way." She tilted her head upon remembering certain difficult memories. "Oliver's not very gentle when it comes to body injuries."

Caitlin laughed and returned all her tools to the metal table beside the bed Belén sat upon. When Belén lowered down her blouse, Caitlin called to the rest of the team outside. "She's decent!"

Belén made a face at her choice of words. "I'd like to clarify that I was always decent," she said as she got up.

"You know what I'd like some clarification on," Cisco said the moment he and Dr. Wells came into the room, "is how on earth you didn't get worst hits by Azul?"

"A little clarification on Mr. Allen's words wouldn't be bad either," Wells added, instigating a very nervous reaction from Belén.

"He-he said something?"

"He said you weren't exactly yourself," Caitlin looked down at her with a small smile.

"Let us remind you that you are here so that we can help you, Miss Palayta," Wells reminded with a pointed look her way.

"Um…" Belén scratched the side of her head.

Cisco walked to her side, swinging a comforting arm around her shoulders. "You know you can tell us anything."

Belén nodded her head. If course she knew that. It was practically embedded in her head. It just didn't mean it was easy for her. "So, um, when I first got my powers...there was this...this ability I could sort of do...that I actually hated. Hate."

"What kind of ability?" Wells leaned forwards on his chair to better hear.

"The kind where I go all green with scaly skin type," Belén answered at light speed, leaving Cisco and Caitlin to decipher what she had said.

Wells had grasped her words on the first try and was now experiencing a state of surprise. "You turn...all green?" he gestured with his hand to his face.

"Yes," Belén nodded. "But...but I didn't want anyone to know so I hid it. I hid it deep down and left it there."

"And now it's trying to break free with it controlling you," Wells concluded within the minute, getting a shameful nod from her in response.

"Why didn't you tell us about it?" Cisco asked her, forgetting his surprise to comfort her.

"Yeah," Caitlin put a hand on her arm, "We could have helped you."

"Barry was trying to help me," Belén explained. "But that's sorta when I lost control…"

"What happens exactly?" Wells pushed her to talk.

"I, uh, I lose myself, basically. I go fully aggressive when someone starts attacking me - it's like the trigger I think."

"Interesting," Wells leaned back on his chair, looking far more bemused than Belén would've liked, "A self-preservation trigger."

"A whatta-what now?" Belén blinked.

"Self-preservation - like every man for himself sort of thing," Cisco simplified it for her. "In your case, every metahuman for them self."

"Well, I'd like to get rid of it," she declared. "It's horrible not being in control of your own body and mind. It's worst knowing that I can hurt people with it."

"That's only because you've kept it buried," Wells clarified her. "If you want to control it then you have to be able to use it whenever you want to, not the other way around."

"It scares me. That's why I'm debating about being the Azalea. Every time I remotely become her, I can feel this other side creeping to the surface."

"Don't worry, we're going to help you control it," Wells promised. "Do you trust us?" He said, no one but him knowing the test laid out before her.

Without a doubt, Belén nodded. "Of course."

"In the meantime," Cisco began walking her out, letting Caitlin and Wells follow behind, "We've got Azul nicely locked down in the pipeline." Although that was bitter news in itself.

"Yeah, I can't believe I just imprisoned my co-worker," Belén shook her head. She felt like an idiot, honestly. Her brother had no doubt set Noah up at CC Pictures to keep an eye on her. She felt disgusted, frankly.

"Noah's not going anywhere, trust me," Cisco assured her.

"I always did say I'd lock them up if I ever got the chance," Belén quietly said. She felt momentary relief when she saw Barry walking into the cortex. She immediately rushed to go up and hug him. "I had to tell them everything," she said, clinging tightly to him.

"Everything?"

"That I'm a hideous green monster," Belén briefly explained and pulled away. She realized he hadn't come alone as there was Joe and the man she presumed to be Barry's father. "Is that your father?"

"Yes!" Barry quickly turned around to formally introduce them.

"Well there goes my first impression," Belén hung her head with a long sigh.

"You're fine," Barry rubbed her back affectionately. "Bells, this is my dad," he gestured to his father who was already looking amused by her.

"Henry Allen," the older man reached to shake her hand. "But I'm sure you already know that."

Belén sheepishly shook his hand with a tiny nervous smile. "Belén Palayta, but...I'm sure you already know that, well, I'm a hideous green monster."

"No, you are not," Barry scolded her playfully.

"You really are not," agreed Henry. "You're very pretty, actually."

"I can see where Barry got his good-natured compliments," Belén nudged the man in question beside her. "Are you taking notes for future situations?"

"I like her," Henry told Barry with a chuckle. "And let me tell you-" he now looked at Belén, "-that he-" he pointed at Barry, "-likes you as well."

"Dad," Barry stiffened, beginning to feel that embarrassment he was sure others experienced when their parents started talking too much around a girlfriend or boyfriend.

"He talks about you a lot," Henry said, more on purpose now.

"Dad!" Barry made a cutting motion across his neck. Belén just laughed and curled her arm around his waist, leaning her head on his arm.

"I like knowing this piece of information, thank you very much, Mr. Allen."

Henry nodded, and then, more soberly, said, "And I also heard about your father. I'm very sorry." He was sure this was another reason why his son found comfort with this woman. If it had been the same speedster that killed Nora, Belén was probably feeling the same way Barry had all those years ago.

"Thank you," Belén softly said. "I've been able to get through it thanks to everyone here, especially your son. He's very good at helping people."

Everyone agreed.

~ 0 ~

"Brazil?" Iris couldn't help make the face she was making after hearing what Eddie had come up with after searching for her co-worker, Mason. She shifted on the couch, both currently at her father's where they were to have dinner together. "Why...why would Mason move to Brazil?"

Eddie wanted to sell this story as best as possible, even though he hated the idea of lying to his girlfriend. But, it was what Joe wanted and - apparently - Barry as well. He was still in heavy shock from discovering the latter was the Flash, but now was not the time to freak out. "Apparently there was a girl involved, and he decided to go hike the Amazon with her for a year, you know, live off the grid, write his memoirs or something."

"Wow," Iris looked down for a moment. "I guess you really don't know anyone. Wait till Belén finds out."

And at that moment, her father walked in alone. "Hey, baby, everything good?"

"Yeah, yeah. Of course," she brushed off the Mason topic, deciding it was enough for now. She got up from couch. "Um, dinner will be ready in a jiff, okay? Is Barry not coming?"

"No, he had a date thing…"

"Okay," Iris shrugged and grabbed her phone from the coffee table before heading for the kitchen.

When Joe was sure she wasn't listening, he went directly for Eddie. "She buy it?"

Eddie sighed. "I think so."

"Keeping her in the dark, it's for her safety."

"That is debatable," Eddie sharply responded, "and we will have that debate. But for right now, what's our next move? How do we figure out what Wells is up to?"

"Right now, we're not sure," confessed Joe. "We need to wait until Barry gets back so we can talk."

Eddie gave a nod, but still openly displayed his disapproval of this plan of secrecy. A part of him wished he hadn't been told anything.

~0~

"Barry, I don't understand, what are we doing here?" Belén said as Barry held the door open for her to walk into the flower shop.

Since it was dark there weren't many people there, allowing almost a perfect glance at every plant being sold there. Barry took her hand and led her direct towards the side near the display window.

"I wanted you to see this," he explained upon stopping in front of a full display of colored Azaleas. Belén's eyes flickered from one flower to the next, bemused by their variety. "I know it's a bit weird to end the date at a flower shop but I promise there is a meaning behind this."

"They're Azaleas," Belén looked at him curiously.

"They're selling them now, all over the city," he began smiling, "And they're doing it in honor of you, Bells."

"...me?" she repeated quietly. "But I haven't done anything special…"

"Yes you have, Belén! And I am so tired of hearing you say otherwise. You don't see it because you're scared, and it's normal, but this city loves you. You are their hero too, no matter what you look like. And people want you here. I want you here too."

Belén looked at him a long time, processing his words and feelings. Of course she wanted to be there too, but it didn't take away her fears. Then again, it really wasn't just her in the equation anymore. There was the city who, apparently, yearned for her to continue being their hero. She didn't want to let anyone down. She didn't want to hurt anyone. She didn't want to be afraid of herself anymore.

"I guess...we have to practice first thing in the morning," she whispered, making Barry quickly smile.

"Absolutely-"

"And I'm talking serious practicing-"

"-sign me up-"

"-with no holding back-"

"Difficult," paused Barry, giving her a look, "But doable. For you."

And so, with a deep breath, Belén agreed to once again continue this new training session with the promise this time it would be effective. After all, this time everyone would be helping her.

#ocappreciation #arrowverseocs #the flash #barry allen #the flash fics #barry allen fics #the flash imagines #barry allen imagines #oc: Belén Palayta #oc: Belen Palayta #fic: it had to be you

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kassandra-lorelei · 5 years

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I watched The Hanukkah Episode a few weeks ago and ever since I have had a scenario stuck in my head and wondered if you'd write it? Basically I envision the crash on the way to Boston being much more serious than it was and cc really begins to believe she may not make it. At one point she is able to find a signal and calls the only person she realizes she 'wants' say goodbye to. What would that call between them sound like? Maybe what happens after? Like a reunion in the hospital or something?

Here we are, my friend! I’m sorry it took a bit longer than I thought it would; I’m moving to a new city for four months next Saturday and I’ve been rushing around trying to get stuff ready. I hope you enjoy it, nonetheless!

@missbabcocks1 @holomoriarty

That was it. The time was up and passed – the hour that Maxwell said it would take for the authorities to find them had gone.

It had long gone, really – secretly, C.C. had been giving it the benefit of the doubt and adding on more time in her head every time it looked like it would get close. But the longer it took, the more the blizzard howled outside and half-buried the car (which by now also had a dead battery), and the producer realised that it wouldn’t be long before it had covered them entirely.

It was just so damn typical. She’d made that one comment about being alone like a dog, and now she was going to die like one, too!

That might’ve been the bleakest thought she’d had in a while, but it wasn’t like she could hold back the truth. What was the point? The cold was creeping in right down to the bone, and it didn’t feel like she could stop it spreading any longer.

It almost didn’t feel like anything, anymore.

Maxwell and the Little One – Grace? She felt like that was familiar; she’d had it just then for sure… - were quietly chatting, huddled together and trying to encourage each other to stay awake. C.C. had elected not to join them.

She knew, deep down, how unwelcome she’d be. For somebody who could be considered a “friend” of the family, she hadn’t exactly fully earned or received that status. If this had been high school, she would’ve been the friend who was forced to walk behind all the other friends, listening to them all having a good time and just trying to keep up.

Her phone held more comfort than they offered right then. Reading all the numbers she had saved as contacts, knowing all the names of all the people behind them…

She nearly threw the stupid thing on the floor in a sudden fit of miserable anger. Who was she kidding? Even most of the people she was seeing there, she’d truly kept at a distance. The fact that she was busy staring at their details on a phone as she slowly froze to death, rather than spending the holidays warm and dry with any of them, was a testament to that. She couldn’t imagine that most of them knew that she was even in the situation she was right then – she doubted anybody at the mansion had told her mother or father, and it was a long shot as to whether her brother or sister were even in the country…

Not one person on that list would know that she was gone. And it was highly questionable as to whether most of them would miss her if they found out.

It sure as hell made letting those ones go without saying goodbye easy. The people who would miss her – her father and brother, and maybe her mother and sister if they came back to town long enough to ask somebody how she was – would get their closure when…

Well, when it was time to plan a funeral, she supposed.

By all rights, that should’ve been the end of it. She should’ve shut the damn thing off, told Maxwell and the Little One that she knew what was going to happen and not to bother trying to do anything about it, and closed her eyes to settle in for the long sleep.

But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not once she’d spotted the little sign in the corner of the screen that said she had reception.

The cynic in her told her it was nothing – that it probably wouldn’t even be a real signal that could get through to anything. The optimist in her – as tiny and beaten around by the cynic as it often was – screamed at her to ignore every negative thought she’d just had on the matter and to try it out anyway. What did she have to lose? She was already in the worst possible position she could find herself in, and there was…

There was…

She tried to sigh to herself, but the cold was starting to make it hurt.

There was the number for the mansion, staring right back at her.

She’d always been able to call the mansion, whenever she’d had to. The very presence of the number on her screen made her think back to all the times she’d been forced to call ahead, or to say that she wouldn’t be coming into work (even if those times were very few and far between).

It made her think back to the man who’d always answer it with a quip or an insult or a zinger, as devastating as he could make it and completely prepared for her to toss one back.

It made her think back to what she’d half-said only a little while ago, even if she’d immediately tried to deter it then by quietly phasing it out and replacing it with a Christmas carol.

She didn’t know what the point of phasing it out was, at this stage. She was never going to experience anything with him, ever again. There weren’t going to be any more zingers. There’d be no more pranks. She wouldn’t turn up at the mansion in the mornings and be greeted by the sight of a lopsided grin if it was a good day, or a grumbling pout if it wasn’t…

No more dancing around the issue of what was really going on with them, which she knew they’d been doing since…well, as long as either one of them could remember, without stopping for even a second to acknowledge it. Not that that made any sense whatsoever anymore – what kind of person managed to spend their entire life hating a person but, deep down, not really hating them, and spending far too long in denial over the whole thing just because they didn’t live up to some crummy expectation set by other people?

Her mother had always said that Babcocks and servants didn’t mix. But she didn’t know Niles like C.C. did – heck, she wasn’t sure that anybody really knew Niles like she did! The fact that they knew each other (it was impossible not to, after working together for two decades), up to and including their daily routines, practically by heart, and their wordplay and their ability to line up zingers for each other like some sort of verbal tennis rally was all proof of that. They’d mixed without even noticing, and for the life of her (or what was left of it, anyway), C.C. couldn’t imagine it being any other way.

Besides, for all the awful things that they’d done to each other over the years, there’d been more times that she remembered fondly rather than anything else.

The time that they’d openly been friends, teaming up to turn the pranks on Nanny Fine. The night they’d danced after the Broadway Guild Awards. Even that kiss they’d shared after one too many glasses of Bourbon in the den at the mansion…

That last one wasn’t the alcohol, as much as she’d tried to tell herself it was afterward. Nobody thought about a sort-of-drunken kiss that deeply, for that long (or took a cold shower for an entire hour) if it was just the alcohol.

And suddenly, C.C. thought that there was one person back in New York that might actually notice if she was suddenly gone from all of their lives. There was one person that she wanted to say goodbye to, and maybe finally stop dancing around with.

If she had to give anyone or anything in her life closure before it suddenly came to an end, she knew then that she wanted it to be the butler.

She’d probably known it all along if she’d ever had a reason to stop and think about it.

So, using a little more of her waning strength (and not able to feel a thing in her fingers as she did), she selected the number and pressed the call button, letting her phone automatically dial in the mansion’s number.

It was exactly the man she wanted to speak to who anxiously picked up, as well.

“Hello?”

“Niles…it’s me,” her voice was getting weaker – she could hear it and she could feel it. Would this whole final death’s door stretch take much longer?

“Miss Babcock?!” Niles sounded more concerned than she’d ever heard him before. She didn’t really want to hope that it was all for her, even if she was letting go of the denial that she was hoping in the first place. “Is everything alright? Are you all still in the car?!”

C.C.’s chest was starting to hurt even more, listening to him sounding so worried. But she knew she had to push on through it – her body was getting tired and she still had everything to say.

She thought she heard Maxwell in the back somewhere asking what she was doing and why she was talking to Niles, but she ignored him. He could have his turn in a minute, when she was done, or use his own damn cell phone if he needed to call so badly. He could distract Nanny Fine, who sounded like she was chattering away down the other end of the line.

Probably searching for her own answers to panicked questions, the kinder part of the producer thought.

“Yeah…yeah, we are,” she replied to Niles’ question instead, blocking out the voices of both Sheffields. “But listen, I’m not calling about that.”

That seemed to confuse the butler, “…Well, then what are you calling about?”

C.C. bit down briefly on the inside of her lip, trying not to let a couple of tears that were creeping up on her spill out, “We, um…weren’t always the nicest of people to one another, were we?”

She could almost see the look on his face as there came another baffled question, “…What?”

C.C. knew that she didn’t really have to stop and explain the last twentysomething years of their knowing each other, so she simply continued. She was running out of time and she was almost at the crux of the matter.

The heart of the conversation, really.

“I know that we fought a lot, and did a lot of bad things to each other, but you…” she had to steel herself, just for a moment. It was hurting…all of it was hurting, and she’d never felt more exhausted. “You were always my best friend.”

She thought she heard hurried movement down the other end of the phone. It was almost as though the butler was taking the phone somewhere else – away from Nanny Fine and the children, maybe?

It seemed likely, seeing as there was less background noise and his voice was serious and hushed when he next spoke, “Miss Babcock, what are you saying?”

Continuing with saying her piece, C.C. let out a huff of a sardonic laugh, “It’s ironic, really – you meant more to me than the people I claimed to like…!”

She could imagine then that Niles’ face would have dropped from dread or something. At least, that was what she could gather from what he said next.

“You’re using past tense. Why are you using past tense, Babs?”

C.C. tried to swallow but her mouth was dry, “Just…helping ease the transition.”

“What transition?”

It took him a minute to process in the silence that followed, but once he realised what she was saying, he then went back to sounding like he was panicking.

“There isn’t any transition!” he cried out. He then tried to hurriedly explain what he thought he knew to her. “The police are out looking for you all right this instant-”

“They’re not gonna make it in time, Hazel,” she knew she was shaking her head, even if she couldn’t feel much of the actual movement. It was making her dizzy, either way. “I can feel it happening. Or not happening – it’s too cold to tell…”

She was having trouble keeping her grip on the phone, at this point. But she was so very close to telling him everything, she had to try harder for just a little bit longer…

“Miss Babcock, I need you to listen to me very, very carefully,” it sounded like Niles wanted her to try harder, too. She’d never heard him sound that desperate before. “Do not go to sleep. Stay awake – whatever it takes, stay awake!”

She wanted to do as he said, but it was starting to verge on impossible. Her eyes kept wanting to close, and sleep was so very near…

“I just had to call…before it did. I wanted to say goodbye to my Butler Boy…” she told him, the cold finally taking over as she did. She blinked once, then twice, and each time got longer. “I… I had to tell him that…”

The words fell away before she could make them leave her mouth. It was happening – it had to be…her vision was blacking out…

And Niles sounded terrified; like he didn’t care who knew that he seemed to be…begging…

“Babcock? Miss Babcock, please, stay with me!”

There was one last moment of pain as C.C. realised that she’d been an idiot to leave all of it for so long, there were so many more things they could’ve been and done if she’d been honest with herself sooner, and the last thing she heard before losing consciousness was his voice getting further away.

“Stay with me…!”

……………………………………………………..

The next thing C.C. felt was warm. Warm, like she’d been taken out of that freezing tomb of a car and taken somewhere that had all the radiators on. And soft. Soft and comfortable, like she’d been wrapped in blankets and settled in a place that she could rest easy.

And…bright? There was some kind of light that was so bright on the other side of her closed eyes, it was registering even while she had them closed!

Lifting up an oddly heavy and stiff hand, she wiped at the corners of her eyes but kept them closed and tried to stretch the rest of her body as she stifled a yawn.

“Is this Heaven…?”

“Don’t bet on it, kiddo.”

That voice – so familiar, and so amused – made her eyes snap right open. Fighting against the sudden intake of light, she found herself in a bed, in a private room somewhere.

And, sat on a chair right by her head, was the man she’d thought she was saying goodbye to, the last time she remembered being awake. He looked like he’d been up all night (had she been wherever this place was for a whole day?); his clothes were all dishevelled and he had dark circles under his eyes.

Even still, C.C. didn’t think she’d seen a better sight.

She pulled her own similarly amused face as she looked at him, feeling her heart quietly swelling with happiness, “Hm. You’re right. If you’re here, it must be Hell.”

“Wrong again, I’m afraid,” Niles told her. “Try Lenox Hill Hospital, Manhattan, New York.”

C.C. blinked around her in surprise, starting at last to get a real sense that she was in a hospital room. The backdrop behind Niles was a privacy screen, half-shielding them both from onlookers that might come past the open door, which she could see just beyond it. Somebody had tried to decorate the room a little in the spirit of the holidays, by arranging assorted decorations and dangling tinsel over the non-medical-use table surfaces, and across the backs of the chairs that were obviously for visitors. The stiff heaviness she had felt in her hand and arm were the tape and tubes connecting her to an IV line, and it looked like she was being monitored by several other machines near to her bed.

“I made it all the way back…?”

The relief in the butler’s features was more than obvious when he smiled back at her, “You all did. Miss Grace and Mr. Sheffield took over the phone with me, after you…”

That smile was gone again in a second, as he trailed off. He couldn’t even keep his tired eyes on her – they had to go to the floor, find a point and stick to it as well.

He really had been worried, before she’d woken up. The crash and everything after had obviously been so bad, even for everybody at the mansion, that he found it hard to talk about it…

C.C. felt her stomach tightening. Once, she might’ve chosen to ignore the fact that this made it obvious he cared, or even dismiss the idea as “obviously” being something else (one of them might’ve even thrown in a zinger, if somebody slipped up and talked about it).

But now, she couldn’t really think about doing that. Again, what was the point? She’d opened up to her own feelings in the car and shovelling them all back in again seemed like a massive waste of time.

She’d wasted a lot of time, and life was too short to stay exactly where she was anymore.

So, she finished his sentence for him, helping to show him that it was all alright and letting her insides go back to normal, “Passed out.”

“Yeah,” Niles said, before managing to lift his eyes back up to look at her. “And, in his infinite wisdom, Mr. Sheffield managed to hit a small tree as the car came off the road and went down the bank. It snapped almost in two, and eventually acted as a marker when the police found where the accident happened.”

“Oh,” C.C. blinked. She hadn’t been expecting anybody to see anything that could lead them to be found, the weather had been so bad. “So, um…Maxwell and…uh…”

That brought Niles’ smile back again. “Mr. Sheffield and Miss Grace are both doing just fine. They’ve been seen to by doctors and they’ll be heading back to the mansion soon.”

“Good,” the producer nodded, feeling a little more relief wash over her. “Good…”

There was a small silence then, and C.C. suddenly felt like she wanted to shift in her bed or cough to clear her throat. She knew that there was still plenty to say, but trying to get around to actually saying it was…well, saying it and saying it correctly was a new experience for her.

She was getting to the part of mentally kicking herself for not having spoken for so long when she remembered that she still had something which belonged to the butler.

“Oh,” she began looking around, trying to spot where the doctors or whoever had come along to put her in the room had stashed her clothes. “I, uh…I still have your, um…”

It took a second, but then Niles seemed to understand what she was after.

“Oh!” he turned a little in his seat, going to the nightstand next to her bed. “Let me get that for you.”

He reached down a little further into the gap beneath the drawers and took out her coat, which had been folded over so that it would fit, and handed it to her.

“Thanks,” she said, taking it and unfolding it to start going through the inside pocket, careful not to disturb her IV drip. “Here. I thought you might want this back.”

She pulled out the handkerchief that he’d given to her before all of this had started, and with it, the faint scent of Lemon Pledge was released into the air.

Even just that faint hint of it was comforting.

But it wasn’t anything compared to their hands touching as she passed the thing over.

She’d never really noticed how warm his hands were before (not that she’d held them that often). It had been his hands (as well as some…other places…) that she’d been imagining back in the car, when she’d nearly let everything slip to her two trapped companions…

They stayed like that, their hands touching, for longer than C.C. (most likely both of them) had originally imagined they would. By the time either of them thought to pull away, she thought she saw a faint blush creeping onto the butler’s cheeks.

“Thank you…” he took his hand back, lowering his eyes to his lap as he looked like he was steeling himself. “Um…Miss Babcock, might I be allowed to ask you a question?”

It was beyond obvious how nervous he was to say whatever he wanted to say next, so the producer tried to lighten the mood by raising an eyebrow as she replied with her own teasing question.

“Since when have you ever asked my permission to do anything?”

Niles looked back at her in earnest, “Just humour me this one time.”

That almost took C.C. aback. She hadn’t expected Niles to want to be completely serious about whatever was coming. But, she supposed that if she was going to move on to where she (at long last) realised she wanted them to be, then she had to let him ask serious questions when they came up.

“Well…alright. What’s your question?”

The butler took in what was probably a nerve-calming breath to him before he began.

“Just before you…stopped talking to me on the phone, you were trying to tell me something,” he said. “What was it that you wanted to say?”

And the moment had finally arrived. The moment where she was about to tell him everything that she’d thought and had come to understand, back in the car. The fact that she wanted him to stay in her life more than anybody else; the fact that she’d realised how much time they were wasting just dancing around when life was too short not to go for what you really wanted; the fact that she was ready to try moving on, if he was…

But in the silence that had followed his question, during which she’d been mustering up all her courage (and shooting down that tiny voice in the back of her head that sounded way too much like her mother to be healthy) to begin, the butler had obviously read something else in her lack of an immediate answer.

“Sorry; I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that,” he shook his head, ducking away to avoid her gaze. “It doesn’t matter.”

C.C. immediately tried to cut in, “No, Niles, it does-”

But the butler seemed to keep on trying to insist, “I should never have-”

Not that the producer would let him, “Would you stop?! I’m going to tell you, if you’ll let me finish!”

There was a pause, just before Niles sighed in defeat.

“My apologies,” he said, gesturing for her to continue. “Please, go ahead.”

“I will,” she nodded, realising then exactly how she was going to tell him what she wanted to say. “Just…come a little closer first.”

Niles blinked confusedly, but didn’t refuse, “Alright…”

He moved so that he was a little bit nearer to her, but it wasn’t close enough for what C.C. had in mind.

“Closer,” she told him.

The butler’s eyebrows knitted together, “Is it possible for somebody to get frostbite in the brain? Because I feel like you might need checking for it.”

C.C. rolled her eyes, “I know what I’m doing, Hazel. Now get closer before I change my mind about the whole thing.”

She wasn’t planning on changing her mind; she just wanted him to hurry it all up.

Not that Niles knew anything about that yet.

God, she hoped that she was right about this and hadn’t misunderstood anything he’d said or done…

“As you wish,” he said, continuing to lean in. “Although, I’m finding it hard to see how this could possibly-”

He was at just the right distance for C.C. to close the gap then. She caught his lips in hers, pouring all the feeling she possibly could into it.

It didn’t take long for them both to melt into it; Niles’ hand had carefully made its way around her (as much as he could reach) before she knew it, and her one free hand was pulling him in as their lips continued to feel and explore each other for a short while longer.

But eventually they had to come away for air, and C.C. rested back against her bed again when they did.

“That was the short version of what I wanted to say in the car.”

“Oh,” Niles almost looked stunned, but she could see the corners of his mouth starting to turn upwards. “I’d…sort of wondered if it was just the cold talking when you said all of those things.”

C.C. shook her head gently, “I, uh…had kind of an epiphany. And then I had to get it all out, before it was too late.”

There was still a lot to be gotten out, in truth. But now that she had been saved and there was a significantly reduced chance of either one of them freezing to death before anything else could happen, that could easily be arranged.

It didn’t take a genius to work out that Niles would agree – not as he took on a beaming smile with his eyes shining.

“Is it too presumptuous of me to say that I’m thrilled beyond words that it wasn’t?”

The warmth that then spread through the producer’s body was twice as welcome as the warmth of the room. It might’ve been ridiculously cliché to say so, but it felt warm enough to melt away all the snow from the blizzard that had trapped Maxwell’s car.

And it had to come through in the beaming grin that spread itself across C.C.’s face.

She reached out to grip at his hand, “Not too presumptuous, for once.”

Niles developed a thoughtful look at that, taking her hand in return and entwining their fingers.

“Then, if this is the short version of what you wanted to say,” he began, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Is there any chance that I might be treated to the long version?”

He accompanied that part by leaning in towards her and wiggling his eyebrows, and the producer couldn’t help but laugh at how comical it all was.

“Maybe later,” she told him, squeezing his hand. “Once I get out of here.”

Again, Niles couldn’t help but agree. After almost having to say goodbye to each other forever, neither one was in any rush to go anywhere and they both knew that C.C. needed some more rest (and probably more tests, she realised with a roll of her eyes and a suppressed groan) before the hospital would let her go. But they also knew that it wouldn’t be long before they’d leave, and hopefully not have to come back, at least for a little while.

And certainly not because of Maxwell’s driving, which was something C.C. was probably going to try and avoid as best she could in the future. Out of everything she could try to avoid in her life, it seemed far easier and more sensible to choose.

Between that and what she felt for Niles, she knew which was the better option, anyway.

#bigbabypuddingsnatcher47 #the nanny #niles and cc #niles the butler #cc babcock #otp: butler bitch #otp: always been bitter together

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writingkeepsmewhole · 5 years

Text

Old Friends

This is part 23 of A Team. Blows my mind there is this many parts to this haha.

Emily and Andy adjust to their life them going to town only to run into an old friend.

Andy Biersack x OC Emily

Warnings: Word or two maybe

Taglist let me know if you wanna be added: @panicatangelica @bvbarmy-jaci

Part 1 Part 22

I was standing in the kitchen the sound of the hockey game coming from the living room. Me and Andy were settled. Him inviting Joe and the band over to watch the game together.

"I gotta say this is something I never thought I'd see." Ashley says coming into the kitchen. It only separated by a half wall.

"What me barefoot and pregnant?" I ask getting the shredded cheese out of the fridge.

"No, Andy throwing a party."

"Oh yeah I love my little introvert."

"He can hear you." Andy says getting a smile from me.

"So I guess you did it." Ashley says taking the beer I hand him.

"Did what?" I ask putting the sour cream on the counter.

"You chained him down."

Laughing I roll my eyes.

"Well he was already with someone I just loved him. You'll settle down when you find someone."

"I like being wild. I don't think I'm ready to give that up."

"Oh Ash I would expect nothing less."

Dipping a bowl of chili I sat it on the tray with a drink and crackers.

"Food's done." I say bringing the tray to Andy.

"Thanks cupcake." He says not looking away from the TV.

"Your welcome batman." I say sitting next to him.

"You all feel free to serve yourself." I say to the everyone.

"Looks good." Andy says looking at me since it was a commercial.

Most women get mad that a man won't pay attention to them when a game is on but I never minded it.

Even more now. Andy has done so much for me I enjoyed seeing him happy.

Andy's hand sat on my knee as him and Joe talked.

I liked that we were finally able to relax. Who knew normal was a good thing.

I was cleaning up the kitchen Andy saying goodbye to Jake and CC them the last to leave. I was washing dishes when i felt arms wrap around me. Andy kissing my neck his hands landing on my stomach.

"How's my girls doing?" He asks him kissing my shoulder.

"One is tired and the other is doing flips." I say moving Andy's hand to the side of my stomach.

Gently pushing his fingers down right where her foot kicked the side of my stomach.

"Feel it?"

"I did. I really felt it this time." He says spinning me around to face me.

A huge grin on his face.

"Make her do it again." He says placing his hands on my stomach.

Laughing I softly poke the underside of my stomach. Her kicking again.

"That's so amazing." he says making me grin.

"Does it hurt?"

"Sometimes but at the moment no." I say feeling her flip. Andy must have too his blue eyes growing to the size of saucers.

"That was her turning over." I explain.

"That's fucking amazing."

I nod smiling feeling my eyes water. "Hey what's wrong?" He asks gently holding my face.

"I’m just happy." I say shrugging feeling stupid for crying.

"Cupcake that's a good thing. Don't cry." He says wiping my cheeks.

"You've done so much for me and your here. I never thought I'd ever be here."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." He says kissing me his lips warm and familiar.

I close my eyes kissing him back holding onto his shirt. He wraps his arm around me it resting on my hip the other was still on my face. He kisses me softly as if he is gonna break me but I don't mind it.

I had to be tough my whole life with Andy I could be fragile and I loved it.

Pulling away from me he presses his forehead to mine. I close my eyes take a shaky breath.

"I love you, you know that right?" He says making me blush.

"I know. I love you too I'm just the broken one remember?"

"It's okay I'll put you back together."

Smiling I give him a quick peck then wipe my face.

"I need to finish cleaning up so we can go to the store." I say meeting his blue eyes with my green ones.

"I'll get the living room." He says kissing me again then leaving kisses all over my face making me laugh.

"Andy stop." I say giggling.

"Fine I'll be good." He says stopping.

"Thank you."

"Of course." He says pulling away from me and walking into the living room picking up the bowl of chips.

After we cleaned up we left the house getting into Andy's car. Normal we would just walk to the store and back but my feet was not having it.

We walked into the store my fingers tangled with Andy's.

"I have to potty." I say walking towards the bathroom.

"Meet me in the produce section?"

"Deal." I say letting go of his hand and going to the bathroom.

When I came back I walk to the produce section easily spotting Andy. It was hard to lose a 6ft tall tattooed guy.

He was talking to two teenagers both grinning from ear to ear.

"Honey did you make new friends?" I ask walking up to him.

"Oh my gosh your Emily!" The girl with the lip piercing says making me smile.

"That's me." I say nodding my hand going to my stomach when the baby rolls. She was very active today.

"Not to be rude but are you pregnant?" The other girl asks. Vicky was her name i’m guessing by the necklace she's wearing.

"I am." I say looking at Andy hoping he won't get mad for me telling them.

"That's so cute! You two will make the cutest baby."

"Thank you." Andy says wrapping his arm around me his hand going into my back pocket.

"Well we will let you get back to shopping. Thanks for the picture." They say and walk off talking to each other.

"You made their day." I say smiling at him.

"Yeah but they seemed to like you too."

"Duh I'm awesome."

Smiling he kisses the top of my head us start looking for what we need.

We were putting stuff in the car talking about what to eat when I took a step back running into someone.

"I'm sorry" we both say looking at each other.

I didn't recognize the person her dirty and clearly homeless.

"Emily?" The woman said hugging me.

"Umm hi." I say patting her.

"Your alive." She says smiling at me.

"Ma'am you need to take a step back." Andy asks calmly.

"Hey I know you. You're that guy at the club." She says pointing at him.

"The club? Alexis is that you?" I ask her, her looking at me.

"Yes its me!"

"I thought you died." I say hugging her.

"What happened?"

"That crazy guy came to the house and started pouring gas everywhere. He thought I was asleep in my room I snuck out the window."

"What's going on?" Andy asks looking at me.

"Oh this Alexis my old roommate and best friend before you kidnapped me. Alexis this is Andy."

"Andy? Thee Andy?" She asks looking at him.

"Yeah?" he says looking at me.

"I was kinda in love with you. She knew about it. I never stopped wearing your necklace." I say touching it.

"Wait did you say he kidnapped you?"

"Long story get in you are coming home with us."

"She is?" Andy says.

"Yes." I say like it's obvious.

When we get home with Alexis help we get all the food in. Stretching I peel my coat off hearing a gasp.

"Pregnant! Your pregnant!" she says pointing at my stomach.

"Oh yeah." I say blushing.

"I'll let you two talk. You gonna be okay?" Andy asks looking at me.

"I'm okay." I say nodding.

"Alright I'll be in the bedroom." He says kissing my cheek.

I move to the kitchen to start putting the food away.

“So what the hell happened that night? I went to the club after what Jack did and you were gone.”

“I was with him.” I say looking at her.

“He came and picked me up at the club and took me to a hotel room….” I say going over what happened that night.

“He hurt me pretty bad I got away from him and started running. I woke up in Andy’s hotel room.”

“How'd that happen.”

“You said he was at the club right?”

“Yeah.” She says nodding.

“They were staying at a hotel nearby. Don’t know why. Andy was on tour they had the bus but things happen. I got lucky.”

“So you and him have been together ever since?”

“No.” I say smiling.

“He was with someone. I say he kidnapped me because when I found out who he was and that he didn’t remember me I ran. I came back, and when I woke up I was on the bus. About had a heart attack in the small bunk though.” I say laughing.

“So he kidnapped you why?”

“I think he felt guilty. His life went one way and mine went another. I think he wanted to help me and he did.”

“Okay so how did this-.” She says gesturing to my stomach.

“Happen?”

“I was with them a month or so we all went out and got drunk. Andy took me back to the bus we had sex.”

“That’s it?”

“We got together a few days after.”

“What happened to the girlfriend?”

“She cheated. Was cheating. After what we did Andy went to go tell her and found her with someone else.”

“Damn.. That’s nuts.”

“That’s just half of it.”

“The other half?”

“I’ll tell you after you take a shower. Come on I got some clothes that will fit you.” I say walking up the steps.

“So you got everything you always wanted?”

“Yeah.. I guess I did.” I say stopping at the bathroom door.

“Go on in I’ll bring you some clothes.”

She nods and walks inside shutting the door.

I go to the bedroom Andy sitting on the floor papers surrounding him.

“Writing songs?” I ask stepping over a few to get to the dresser.

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t you just put out Wretched and Divine?”

“Yes but I got all these words in my head that I need to get out.”

“Write that down that was pretty good.”

“Funny.” He says looking up at me.

“Really I liked it.” I say bending down to kiss him. It just a quick peck.

I move over him again and head across the hall to the bathroom. Hearing the water running I open the door just a bit.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” Alexis calls back.

I open the door and step inside shutting it back.

Setting the clothes on the sink I take a breath.

“How did you get here?” I ask her.

“To LA I mean.”

“After what happened I wanted to get as far away from that place as I could. I came looking for you when I saw on the news about Jack being killed I took that as a sigh to leave.”

“Jack’s dead? I was wondering if I killed him.”

“You did it?” She asks sounded shocked.

“I told you I got away. He was keeping me locked up.”

“Emily how much hardship are you gonna go threw in your life?”

“I hope I’m done for a long while.”

“Let’s talk about something else. How did you find out you were pregnant?”

“The hospital told me.”

“The hospital?” She asks poking her head out at me her hair covered in soap.

Sighing I drop my head.

“My dad found me.”

“Damn your life it like a TV drama.” She says going back in the shower.

“Yeah tell me about it.”

“What happened?”

“He saw a picture of me online I think and tracked me down. Kidnapped me tried to lock me up and make everything as messed up as it was when I was a teenager.”

“What did you do? How’d you get away?”

“I ran. Got hit by a car took back. I kicked him down the steps. Andy came with the police and found me. The doctor told me I was gonna have a baby.”

“Well at least something good came out of it.”

“That’s true.”

“Do you know what it is yet?” She asks turning the shower off.

I pick up a town and hand it to her threw the curtain.

“She’s a girl.”

“Aww cute! Name?” She asks hoping the curtain wrapped in the towel.

“Anily. It’s mine and Andy’s name put together.”

“That’s very twilight of you.”

“Hush!” I say waving my arm at her.

“Get out so I can get dressed.”

Laughing I step out of the bathroom Andy still in the floor.

“Write anything good yet?” I ask walking in and sitting across from him leaning on the bed.

“It’s kinda dark.”

“So?”

Clearing his throat he picked up the notepad in front of him and softly started to sing.

A lonely heart remains until we know the truth But if it stays the same, can we make it through? A life without the hurt, a life without you

“I like it.” I say smiling.

“Yeah but I don’t like that for the beginning of the song.”

“What’s the song about?”

“Changes. The changes in our lives. It’s about getting up and walking away. To move forward.”

“Then that’s how you started it. Started with How our lives have changed. Eww no I don’t like that. Now our lives have changed.”

“I can work with that.” He says smiling making me smile back.

“Is this what you two do all day?” Alexis asks drying her hair off looking much for like herself now.

“Not everyday. This is a lazy day.” I say standing up with the help of the bed.

“Wow your pregnant.” She says making me laugh.

“Yeah I am. We went over this.”

“I know but it’s just hard to believe. You never wanted kids and look at you.”

“I wanted kids I just wanted to love the father and to be able to raise the baby right.”

“Well you got that now right?”

“Right.” I say smiling down at Andy him smiling back.

“So what do we do now?”

“Now? Now we go make food.”

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lifeisshiny · 6 years

Text

HEA Everlark - Dibs

This one ran away from me and ended up longer than intended. Hope you enjoy.

Reminder of why I’m doing these here.

Original Dibs here and here.

This is dedicated to @jennagill, who loves these two almost as much as I do, and who gave me the idea for the ending. ILY.

xo, CC

Dibs!Everlark rang in the new year in each other’s arms, and they remained there for a better part of the next two days. Only, instead of the noise and crowd of the restaurant where they shared their first kiss (and declarations of love), they spent that time in Peeta’s bed, in his apartment above his family’s bakery.

They did everything in that bed. They made love (wasted no time there), ate every meal, made love some a lot more, and watched half a dozen cheesy romantic comedies.

Yes, they had a perfect weekend together, just the two of them.

And then…Peeta’s mother happened.

Ellis Mellark was beyond ecstatic when she heard, through the grapevine, that Peeta was attending Glimmer Callahan’s NYE party, thinking that her son was finally coming to his senses about his future. But when she heard that it wasn’t Glimmer, but Katniss kissing her son at the stroke of midnight, well…

She was not pleased.

The next few weeks and months proved to be difficult for the new couple. Peeta’s mother was relentless: setting up family meals and inviting Glimmer, or daughters of other well-to-do acquaintances. She even went so far as to send women directly to the bakery, where she knew Katniss would probably be as well. And when Peeta had finally had enough, and demanded that she stop this nonsense, she voiced threats of disowning him, firing him from the bakery, and evicting him out of the apartment.

Katniss was at a loss.

She contemplated, more than once, about ending it with Peeta – was she really worth losing his family, his job, and his home?

Then, one day, she got a text from him, asking to meet him at an unfamiliar address. The GPS took her to a quaint garden-style apartment complex, across the street from one of her favorite parks. She found the building, #7475, climbed the stairs to Unit #12, and knocked on the door.

When there was no answer, she checked the address on her phone one more time, shrugged, and turned the doorknob, discovering that the unit was unlocked. She walked in to a warm stream of sunlight coming in from the above skylight, and smiled when she saw Peeta standing in front of her, a set of papers in his hand. He showed her the document, and she noticed a familiar flash of yellow on the front: a post-it with an arrow and the words ‘sign here’, clearly written in Peeta’s handwriting.

Katniss took the papers – a lease – from his hand, studied it for a moment, and her breath hitched when she saw her name in type, as the apartment’s second lessee. “Peeta-”

“I choose you, Katniss. I choose us.”

He went on to explain that there were two sets of documents – one with just his name, and the one in her hands, with both of their names – and she would decide what she wanted to do. But, whatever her decision, he wanted to make his point clear…

That he chose her. He would always choose her.

Katniss looked up at him, grinned, and raised an eyebrow.

“Is there a washer and dryer in here?”

“You bet your ass there’s a washer and dryer in here.”

Months later, during an ordinary walk through the park, Peeta stopped to double-knot his shoelace, right by the lake. As Katniss waited, he slipped something into her hand, and she gasped.

A ring. With a yellow post-it rolled and tucked into it.

“I call dibs on you, Katniss Everdeen.”

Katniss looked down at him, her best friend, her Peeta, and inhaled slowly as she slid the post-it out of the ring.

She smiled when she saw his initials written on it: PM.

But she grinned a teary grin when she studied the ring, and noticed the engraving on the inside:

Dibs

No words were exchanged as Peeta stood, took the post-it from her hand and placed it on her shirt, right on top of her heart. He held her face in his hand, wiped the tear away from her cheek, and looked into her eyes, silently asking his question.

She didn’t need to hear it to give her answer.

“Yes.”

And they lived Happily Ever After.

#cc writes #HEA everlark #everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlark drabble

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lilyvandersteen · 6 years

Text

Puppy Eyes Chapter 6

This chapter is still unbetaed, sorry about that! I’ve been procrastinating again, and my lovely beta @hkvoyage hasn’t had a chance to look this over for me yet.

This chapter is again from Blaine’s point of view. Enjoy!

This story is also on AO3 and on Fanfiction.net.

The other parts can be found here: Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

Chapter 6: Sharing Secrets

April to September 2012

“Hey, honey bee,” Pam said. “I hope you’re calling to tell me you and Trent are coming for a visit after finals.”

Blaine burst into tears upon hearing that warm, familiar voice, and the mention of Trent didn’t help either.

“Blaine, sweetie, what’s wrong?” Pam asked.

“Trent is… moving out…” Blaine sobbed.

“What?! Why?!”

“His… *sniff*… his boyfriend… asked him… to come live with him,” Blaine explained.

“What?! Hold up, honey, his BOYFRIEND?!” Pam shrieked. “When did you guys break up, and why is this the first I hear about it?”

Blaine was silent for a beat. “Mom, what are you talking about?”

Pam huffed in exasperation. “Trent! You’ve been together since high school! You’ve lived together for… what, ten years? I keep expecting you to pop the question to Trent and get married and have babies. And now you just mention casually that he’s dating someone else, as though it doesn’t even matter. What happened?!”

Blaine rubbed a hand over his face. “Mom… Not you too! Trent and I have never dated. We’re just friends. Best friends. That’s all we’ve ever been.”

Pam laughed. “Oh, honey, that’s such bull. You’ve stayed here at my place together, and no, I’ve never seen you kiss or heard you have sex, but it was clear enough that you were in a relationship. The way he looked at you with hearts in his eyes, and the way you stayed close to him, always touching him in one way or another. The way you cuddled on the sofa and bickered like an old married couple. The way you knew what Trent wanted and needed before it even registered in his brain. You’ve always been inseparable, and you click so well. Maybe the two of you have never said the words, but it was obvious to me, and to anyone with eyes, really, that you loved each other, and that you were together. So together. Honey, you’ve asked me for advice on Valentine’s gifts for Trent! You wouldn’t buy a Valentine’s gift for someone who’s just a friend.”

Blaine sighed, not in the mood to argue.

“So what happened?” Pam wanted to know. “Trent fell in love with someone else?”

“Yes,” said Blaine. “His name is Ashton, and he’s a colleague of Trent’s.”

“How long has this been going on?”

Blaine thought hard. “Seven months or so. Since November.”

“And now he’s moving out, huh,” Pam mused. “What are you going to do when you turn into a dog, then?”

“I don’t know!” Blaine wailed. “What do I do, Mom? Trent says to hire a dog sitter, but I don’t want to explain my situation to a stranger!”

Pam hummed in assent. “Well, for now, you could draft a standard mail to the dog agency requesting a week of walks, asking them to get in touch with me for the payment, and you put me in CC, and you make sure you have your Outlook open at any time, and that draft mail, too. At home, at school, on your mobile. And when you feel you’re going to turn into a dog, you send that mail before you do anything else. All right?”

“Right,” said Blaine, starting up Outlook to draft the mail his mother had outlined.

“And I’m coming to New York. I know you say you and Trent never dated, but you sound really cut up about his moving out. You shouldn’t be all alone right now. The school year’s almost over, isn’t it?”

Blaine hesitated. “Yes, but… I’m teaching a summer class in June. For three weeks.”

Pam hummed again. “I see. All right. I’ll stay with you until that summer class has come to an end, and then you’re coming home to Ohio with me for the summer holidays.”

“Mom!” Blaine protested.

“No grumbling, honey bee. I need to keep an eye on you while I can. And I know there’s a lot more to do in New York, but we’ll have fun at home too. I’m taking you to the theatre. There’s a Rent revival I have tickets for. And you can help me in the garden. And catch up with your Warbler friends.”

“Okay, okay…”

Blaine resigned himself to having his mom as a guest for over a month, and to an Ohioan summer after that. It was nice of Pam to rush to his aid, but how he wished it hadn’t been necessary.

K&B

Blaine was surprised and pleased when that Tuesday, Kurt came to see him during his consulting hours, and even more so when he asked him if he was okay.

Kurt didn’t stay long, but by the time he left, Blaine felt a lot better. A fact that didn’t escape Paula’s notice when he left his office later that afternoon.

“You’re humming,” Paula said, locking her own office, too. “Kurt worked his magic, did he?”

“Good Lord, Paula, would you stop?!” Blaine hissed. “Do you even listen to yourself sometimes? For the millionth time, there is nothing going on between Kurt and me. He just came in with a question, and we talked for a bit.”

Paula raised an eyebrow. “No need to get so worked up. I was just pointing out that you clearly feel better, after sulking for two days.”

“Yeah, I did feel better, until you butted in again,” Blaine snapped. “Making it sound like I’m having an affair with a student.”

“I did not,” Paula disagreed. “Not my fault that you read into everything I say. What’s got your panties in a twist?”

Her face grew serious when Blaine told her about his roommate moving out, almost as if she realised the problems this caused for Blaine.

“So will you advertise for a new roommate?” Paula asked.

Blaine shook his head. “I don’t really need a roommate. The apartment is mine. I bought it with the money my grandfather left me.”

Paula cocked her head to the side. “You may not need the money, but you do need the company. You should think about it.”

Again, her eyes were piercing right through him.

Feeling a little unsettled, Blaine nodded, and then made his escape.

K&B

Having his mother living in his apartment took some getting used to. Pam commented on what Blaine wore, what he ate, what he watched on TV, what he read and how he spent his evenings and weekends.

Apparently, the meals Blaine cooked were too fattening, and he needed to use less cheese, less meat, less salt, and a lot more vegetables. After a while, Blaine just gave up on cooking, content to eat whatever his mother prepared.

Pam also thought that Blaine was becoming a coach potato, so she took him to a nearby gym in the evenings, encouraging him to take up boxing again. On weekends, they went jogging in Central Park.

Shortly after finals, Blaine turned into a dog again, and the jogging became a necessity rather than a choice.

Blaine was a bit alarmed about the dog spells coming closer together again, but felt lucky that at least this time, he didn’t have work to worry about. The school year was over, and summer school was still a week and a half away.

Having his mom cleaning up his messes was a bit awkward, but she’d done the same when he was a baby, Blaine reasoned.

K&B

On the first day of his summer class, he was delighted to find that Kurt was among his students, working as hard as ever, and producing A+ content. He also seemed to have gotten over his hang-ups about talking to Blaine, and they took to chatting after every lesson.

Among other things, Blaine learnt that Kurt was dog-sitting now instead of walking lots of dogs belonging to various owners. That wasn’t good news. It meant that the dog walking agency wouldn’t be able to send Kurt to walk Blaine next time. It would be a stranger. Blaine resolved to bring the dog walking agency a spare key to his apartment as soon as possible.

Like Blaine, Kurt was heading to Ohio as soon as this summer class was over, but unlike Blaine, he was counting down the days, claiming that he needed rest. He did look tired, Blaine noticed upon closer scrutiny. He remembered Paula telling him that Kurt would be taking on graphic design as a minor as of next school year, and he hoped it wouldn’t be too taxing for him. He’d be keeping an eye on Kurt, and if it looked like he was overwhelmed, Blaine would discuss it with Paula. Maybe there were classes that Kurt could test out of because there was an overlap with his major?

In Ohio, the first thing that happened was that he turned into a dog again. While she was at work, Pam let him roam in the backyard, which was certainly big enough, but Blaine still felt lonely without anyone to play with him and look after him. As soon as he transformed again, Blaine fell into a rhythm that made him feel like a teenager again. In the morning, he helped his mother arrange charity events, worked in the garden and went grocery-shopping, and generally did anything else Pam needed his assistance with. In the afternoon, he swam in their back-yard pool, worked on his tan and met up with a few friends that had come to visit their families.

Wes told him all about his fiancée, and how they were getting married in April. Thad, on the other hand, was already divorced, and talked about not getting to see his son as often as he’d like. David had become a teacher, like Blaine, and they swapped stories about their students.

All of his friends asked after Trent, and were upset to hear that he was dating and living with Ashton now.

“What?!” David yelled. “You and Trent broke up? How is that possible? You’ve been dating for so long, and I’ve never once seen you fight. You were that couple that everyone looked up to, you know, in school. You seemed to have it all together when the rest of us were just muddling through. I thought you’d be married with a million kids by now.”

Blaine hunched a little, breaking eye contact.

Wes clapped him on the back. “Hey… I’m sure David didn’t mean to make you feel any worse about the break-up, DID YOU, DAVID?”

David, succumbing under Wes’ glare, shook his head.

“We’re just surprised, that’s all,” Wes continued, “because we all thought you’d be together forever.”

Blaine didn’t dare tell his friends that he and Trent had never been boyfriends, and chose to change the subject instead.

The last week of Blaine’s vacation, Pam took him to the Rent revival she had tickets for, and Blaine loved it. So engrossed was he in all that was happening on the stage that he didn’t realise having turned into a dog until after the transformation was complete. He nudged his mother with his nose, and her eyes went wide.

Pam brought his collar and leash everywhere they went, so she snapped them on immediately. Then she picked up Blaine’s clothes, stuffed them in her purse, and led Blaine out of the theatre. They were sitting at the end of an aisle, so only the people directly behind them noticed them leave. Blaine shot them a quick look in passing, and at once, his heart started to jack-rabbit in his chest. Just behind him, at the end of the aisle, sat Kurt! He was looking right at Blaine and giggling it up with the girl sitting next to him. Had he recognised Blaine? Probably not. But seriously, what were the odds?

Blaine’s heart rate didn’t slow down until he was at home again and swimming a few laps in the pool to relax. He told himself there was no need to worry. If Kurt had noticed Blaine before the curtain went up, he was pretty sure Kurt would at least have come and greeted him. Since he didn’t, he must only have seen Blaine in his dog form at the theatre. And he saw so many dogs on the regular that he’d probably wouldn’t think of Devon, would he?

Still, it was worrying how many close shaves he’d already had with Kurt. Kurt looking after him for a week and then turning up for his class the next week. Kurt winning the competition where Blaine was in the jury, with Blaine transforming just an hour before the award ceremony was to take place. And now Blaine having another dog spell while the both of them were in the same theatre. Was that a sign of the universe to tell him he needed to confide in Kurt?

Just then, Pam screeched, “Blaine!! Get out of the pool AT ONCE!! This is SO unhygienic!!”

Blaine hurried out of the pool and gave his mother his most contrite look.

“Those puppy eyes stopped working on me a long time ago,” Pam informed him. “Now come here, I need to dry you off before you trample muddy paw prints all over the kitchen floor.”

K&B

Blaine started the new school year a few days late due to his dog spell, and had to endure some teasing from Paula about wanting extra vacation days. “Had a hot lover in your bed and didn’t want to leave it, did you?”

Blaine flushed and denied that vehemently, until Paula was laughing her head off.

When she’d made enough fun of him for her liking, she told him Kurt was working at R/GA as an intern now. “I think I’m going to invite Sebastian from R/GA again this year to give a presentation about the agency, and Kurt can chip in with his experience interning there. And maybe this time around, you’ll take Seb’s VERY BROAD hints and sleep with him. You need to get laid, man. And at least Seb is your age, and not a student.”

Blaine glared at her. “For the millionth time, I am not involved with Kurt!”

“I didn’t say anything about Kurt,” Paula smirked. “But I’m impressed at how fast your mind jumps to him these days. Maybe those very tight pants he wears do have some effect on you. I’ll give it a few more months.”

Blaine opened and closed his mouth a few times without any sound coming out, and then just walked off in the direction of his classroom without looking back at Paula, who was cackling again.

Kurt was in one of Blaine’s classes again, this time Graphic Design History, and wrote very thought-provoking essays, which Blaine discussed with Paula to see if certain ideas and suggestions could be added to the curriculum, and with Kurt himself, because the essays always left him wanting to know more, to dive deeper into the subject. And Kurt never disappointed. He had such a brilliant brain, and seemed to know just how to cut through everything unnecessary to get to the essence. And he was so innovative, his mind teeming with ways to improve and simplify designs. He continued to astound Blaine, and Paula was just as impressed with him. No longer did she chew Blaine out for talking to Kurt for too long, because she did the exact same thing, wanting to know every particular of Kurt’s internship at R/GA.

Blaine was in his office, marking the essays assigned that week, when suddenly, he felt his skin prickle and his nose growing wet. Knowing he had very little time until he’d be a dog again, he hit his keyboard and typed in his password, but his hands became paws before he could send the standard mail to the dog walking agency. He tried anyway, and let out an unhappy whine when the computer mouse refused to cooperate.

The noise he made must have carried farther than he thought, because the next thing he knew, Paula was standing beside his desk. She didn’t seem a bit surprised to see a dog in his office. Did she… somehow know about his condition already?

“I take it you wanted to send this e-mail?” Paula asked, raising an eyebrow at Blaine.

Blaine nodded.

“Hmm, just dog walks won’t be much use if there’s nobody around to feed and water you,” Paula remarked. “I’m gonna ask for a week of dog-sitting, then you’ll be properly looked after.”

Paula clicked ‘Send’ and then fixed him with a stare again.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I take it you’re actually Blaine under a curse?”

Another nod.

“No need to look so scared, Blaine, I’m not going to out you!” Paula assured him. “But you’re going to need someone to look after you, until the agency sends a dog walker over.”

It dawned on Blaine that he had totally forgotten to drop off a spare key at the agency. The dog walker they sent would be unable to get into the apartment. He whined again. What a mess!

“No worries, no worries,” said Paula. “I know just the right person. Stay here!”

Blaine, stiff with stress now that she planned on bringing someone else into his office to see him like this, didn’t move a muscle until she bustled back in, towing a bewildered Kurt behind her.

Kurt’s face lit up beautifully when he saw Blaine, and he called him by his dog name. Blaine was off like a shot. Yes, yes, yes, Kurt could look after him. He would, wouldn’t he? Surely, he’d take care of Blaine in spite of his dog-sitting duties?

Blaine nuzzled Kurt’s knee and then his cheek, and rumbled deep in his chest when that prompted Kurt to pet Blaine in all the right places.

Paula asked Kurt to take Blaine back home, and Kurt agreed readily. Blaine happily followed him out of the office and off the campus, and then led him towards the park, where they played for a bit.

Blaine’s mood dropped drastically on the way home, though. He realised that the apartment, should Kurt leave him there, would become his prison. The dog walker that the agency would be sending had no way of getting in, so Blaine would be left to his own devices for a whole week. He didn’t even know if there was any dog food left in the house. He couldn’t fill his water bowl by himself. And he had no way of getting out of the apartment to relieve himself somewhere outside.

The more Blaine thought about it, the more he panicked, and when they reached his apartment, he planted his paws firmly on the ground and refused to budge.

Kurt didn’t understand, of course, and tried coaxing Blaine, but to no avail. After a while, Kurt went into the apartment himself, and after a moment’s hesitation, Blaine followed him.

Room by room, Kurt inspected the apartment, and Blaine knew it didn’t look lived in at the moment, because it wasn’t. Blaine hated coming home to an empty apartment, so ever since he’d come home from Ohio, he’d spent as little time there as he possibly could. Instead, he chose to stay in his office on campus until late, heading to the gym afterwards, grabbing a bite to eat and only heading home when it was bed time.

Kurt came to the conclusion that Blaine’s owner had abandoned him, and decided to take Blaine along to the place where he was dog-sitting, telling Blaine to play nice with the dog living there.

Yes, sure, anything, just take me with you. Please don’t leave me here all alone!

The dog Kurt was looking after was a black Labrador called Carla, very exuberant and friendly. She seemed beyond excited to have a playmate sleeping over, and when Kurt took the both of them to the park for their evening walk, she chased Blaine and play-bowed and growled and bounced up and down around him until Blaine indulged her with some playful scuffling.

After a while, Carla caught sight of a squirrel, and chased after it. Blaine took the opportunity to sidle back up to Kurt, who was on the phone. It proved to be the dog walking agency, and they asked Kurt to dog-sit ‘Devon’ for a week.

Yes! Please say yes, go on. Please!

Kurt took some time to think it over, but ended up agreeing.

He’s not going to bring me back to my apartment now, is he?

Blaine was stiff with nerves again, and it took Kurt coaxing him onto his lap and massaging all the stress away for Blaine to relax a little.

Once Kurt spoke, Blaine’s worries all evaporated. Of course Kurt wasn’t planning on leaving him in that apartment all alone. He got to come with Kurt and Carla for a sleep-over. And once the assignment at Carla’s place was over, Kurt would be coming to live at Blaine’s for the rest of the week.

Blaine looked up at Kurt, trying to convey his gratitude with his eyes, and then nudged Kurt to get some more caresses.

Living with Kurt proved heavenly. Kurt bathed both Blaine and Carla that night, and after drying them off, he brushed their hair softly, with so much care and tenderness that it soothed Blaine until he dozed off.

When Kurt moved into Blaine’s apartment, it smelled like home-cooked food again, for the first time in months, and Blaine loved it, though Kurt was strict and only gave Blaine dog food, no matter how much he whined and begged for scraps from the table.

One day bled into another, and Blaine didn’t even notice its passing. He soaked up the companionship he had with Kurt and enjoyed it to the fullest, knowing he’d have to live on those memories until the next dog spell came along.

That Friday afternoon, Kurt came home from school and greeted Blaine with his customary belly rub. Blaine’s head lolled left to right and his back arched up of its own accord as Kurt scratched his belly just the right way.

Oh, that feels SO good…

Then, all of a sudden, Kurt’s hands were gone, and a shrill scream rent the air.

Blaine opened his eyes lazily. Was there a spider, or a mouse? ‘Cause he could totally chase it away for Kurt…

But it proved to be him that Kurt was looking at with horror.

Uh-oh…

The hair on his skin prickled with apprehension, and Blaine looked down at his body, knowing what he would see before he saw it.

Right, I’ve turned human again. I need to explain.

But Kurt had recovered from his fright by now and let out a torrent of words, his eyes flashing.

“What the hell? What do you think you’re playing at?! Elliott, if this is you playing a joke on me, it’s not funny! You change back into yourself RIGHT NOW or else I will rip all of your designs to shreds!”

Blaine’s eyes went wide. Kurt knew about magic? But why did he think Blaine was one of his friends pranking him?

“I’m giving you until the count of three,” Kurt continued. “One… Two…”

“Wait! Stop!” Blaine implored him, holding his hands up. “This is not a prank, I swear. I’m Blaine Anderson, and I’m under a curse.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Of course you’d say that. Tempting me by making it look like my crush is right in front of me, buck-naked, his humongous hard dick almost poking my eye out. And when that doesn’t sway me right away, you tell me you’re under a curse. Of course. Next you’re going to tell me that only true love’s kiss can save you, and then when I try and kiss you, you’ll transform into something disgusting, won’t you? Well, I won’t play along. I won’t be a good sport or whatever you’d call it. I hate magic. It’s cost me my mom, and it broke Rachel’s heart. It does nothing but ruin people’s lives. I’ve got no time for your sick mind games. Find someone else to prank. And by the way: our friendship is OVER!”

Kurt turned around and stormed off to put his shoes and coat on.

Blaine followed, frantic now. “Kurt, please! It’s really me. Please! You have to believe me!”

Kurt scoffed and turned his face away from Blaine.

Blaine pressed on. “I… I’ll prove it to you. There are things you told me... Things I know... Your mother died when you were eight!”

Kurt’s expression somehow became even more arctic. “Everybody knows that.”

“You wanted to go to NYADA. Become a Broadway star. But you didn’t get in.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “Rude. And again, common knowledge.”

Blaine racked his brains, and then it came to him. “A closeted jock stole your first kiss.”

Kurt snapped his head towards Blaine, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide, and whispered, “How on earth do you know that?”

Blaine shrugged. “You told me.”

Kurt gaped at him, speechless now.

Blaine continued, “You said you’d never told anyone. Because that jock threatened your life.”

Kurt’s shoulders slumped, and his face lost all colour. “He did. You’re… You’re actually Professor Anderson?”

Blaine snorted. “I’m standing here in my birthday suit and you still call me Professor? No need to be so formal at this point. Just Blaine will do.”

Kurt let out a startled little laugh, and for a split second, his eyes flitted down, and his cheeks reddened. “I forgot.”

“Lucky you.”

That retort seemed to fluster Kurt even more, and Blaine was quick to grab his shoulder and reassure him. “Hey, hey… Don’t worry about it. It’s just a body. I don’t care who sees it.”

When that didn’t seem to help much, Blaine threw in a wink. “You can admire me all you like.”

That unfroze Kurt, who shook his head, giggling. “You’re the worst. I blurt out I have a crush on you and instead of filing a restraining order, you tell me to check you out. You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

Blaine was glad that Kurt reacted so well. There was nothing off about his laughter. No bitterness about Blaine not reciprocating his feelings, and no anger either. Kurt seemed genuinely amused. So Blaine nudged Kurt’s shoulder, grinned and replied, “Not a chance!”

#klaine fanfiction #puppy eyes #chapter 6 #my fic

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scaredofrobots · 6 years

Text

Unusual (chat with Evans 315)

Happy Galentines day @petalstofish this is for you.

Thanks (I guess) to @shacklebolt-k for the idea. And @elanev91 and @beks21 for being my sentient fedoras with the European Colonial Construct of Grammar (I guess) cc @oyevans because you love BlackEvans as much as me and also are a sentient fedora on FFN

Sirius Black was on a mission.

Something was afoot, amiss and simply just not right.

Lily Evans Potter had lost all Christmas cheer. It was December 12th and she was not in her very favourite “13 days until Christmas jumper” which featured all the characters from the 12 Days of Christmas song.

So today, Sirius Black was going to get to the bottom of this- as he always did- with a chat and several bottles of Firewhiskey.

The Problem was first discovered on November 30th and there was nary a Christmas tree in sight.

It had been an odd year, to be fair, and Sirius had been travelling for much of October and November- so he hadn’t exactly been around the Potter household to experience the typical 84 days of Lily Evans Potter Christmas magic.

Therefore, he was a little shocked when he went to pick Lily up from the cottage in Godric’s Hollow to find there was no Christmas tree and no porch coated in glitter, garland and bobbles.

He assumed that this was because James was gone for six weeks to train with England for the World Cup and wouldn't be back until Christmas Eve.

“Alright, Evans...I’m sorry- Mrs. Potter?” he asked as she opened the door and let him in.

“You keep saying that like it is funny every time,” Lily responded, rolling her eyes. “It was funny once.”

“Evans, you wound me,” he smiled and was surprised to find Lily was hugging him. “There, there, Evans- I know you’ve been lonely without your boys.”

Sniffing slightly, Lily stated, “You have no idea.”

“Well, my lovely Mrs. Prongs- I know what will cheer you up! Let’s go get a Christmas tree and decorate the shit out of your house,” Sirius said and offered his arm to her.

Lily took it and they went on their way. They spent the day getting the Christmas tree and several decorations.

They transformed the cottage into a winter wonderland and Sirius was glad to see Lily looking slightly full of Christmas cheer. She even joined him in singing God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs as they hung garland across the porch. Lily seemed happy but not Twenty Six Days Until Christmas!! Happy. He decided that she must be missing James too much to really embrace the spirit. It was the first time since they’d gotten together that James was gone for Lily’s usual Christmas countdown. Since James was out of town- and Remus was still teaching at Hogwarts- Sirius decided to make it his personal mission to bring the Christmas Cheer back out of Lily Evans Potter.

Sirius woke the next day with a plan. He dug through his old school trunk and found the slightly burned and completely wrinkled copy of the legendary failed Advent calendar. He highlighted the top 24 activities and planned an order of events sure to restore Lily Evans Potter to her usual level of Christmas preparation.

The Plan was a disaster.

Sirius had tried all of Lily’s favourite pre-Christmas activities.

She fell asleep halfway through their carolling trek.

Then during ice skating, she had to stop skating to go vomit.

THEN when they were making Christmas cookies, she burst- inexplicably- into tears. She rushed out of the kitchen crying. When Sirius found her five minutes later, she was asleep in one of James’ old quidditch jerseys in their bedroom.

Lily had never really been a codependent person, so Sirius found her consistent moping odd and her lack of Christmas cheer odder, but still, he blamed it on James being gone. Furthermore- she wouldn’t fucking talk about what was bugging her, no matter how many ways he asked.

Which is why on December 12 The Plan shifted into Get Evans Fucking Drunk and Chat About Our Feelings While We Braid Each Other’s Fabulous Hair.

Sirius arrived at the cottage at 6pm with four bottles of Firewhiskey. He let himself in, as was his custom, and announced in his loudest lawyer voice, “Alright Evans- It’s time to have a chat!”

She popped her head out of the kitchen warily and responded, “I can’t- go away Sirius”

Rolling his eyes, Sirius entered the kitchen and sent down the bottles.

“Yes you can. Something is afoot, Evans, and I intend to figure it out,” he said.

“Please stop pretending you’re Sherlock Holmes,” Lily complained.

Sirius uncapped a bottle of Firewhiskey and took a deep drag and then tried passed it to Lily, who didn’t reach for it.

“Come on Evans- this is how we solve things,” he prompted.

“I can’t,” Lily said.

“Evans.”

“Can’t.”

“Why?”

“It’ll hurt the baby.”

“What baby?” Sirius asked.

At this- Lily just stared at him.

Confused, Sirius asked again, “What baby?”

“The baby currently growing inside of my body, Sirius.”

Inexplicably, Sirius felt tears prick in his eyes- “There is a baby in there? Your baby? And Prongs? A little Prongs?”

Lily rolled her eyes at this and said, “No it’s the milkman’s- of course it’s mine and James’ baby.”

“WE’RE HAVING A BABY?!?” Sirius asked again, suddenly full of an excitement he couldn’t quite describe.

“Well, technically-“ Lily started but once she saw the look on Sirius’ face, she stopped herself- “Yes- yes we are.”

Sirius put down the Firewhiskey bottle and scooped Lily up into a big bear hug exclaiming again, “A baby!”

Laughing fully for the first time in weeks Lily said, “Yes, a baby!”

Suddenly panicked, he set her down, “Did I squeeze you too hard? Did I hurt the baby?”

“No, you prat!” Lily laughed and gave Sirius a soft whack on the shoulder before wiping her tears away.

“Does Prongs know?” Sirius asked.

“No- this is in-person news. So no blabbing!” Lily admonished him as she poked him in the chest

Crossing his heart Sirius said, “Marauders’ Honor. Now come on. We’ve got shopping to do.”

And for the first time ever (but certainly not the last)- they abandoned their Firewhiskey mid-chat to take care of the smallest member of their family.

The next twelve days flew by. Telling Sirius about Little Prongs (as he insisted on calling the baby) seemed to unlock Lily’s Christmas Spirit again. It also helped that she was finally feeling a little more energetic and now having as much morning sickness- which was, in large part, due to Sirius researching a multitude of potions and vitamins to help her feel more like herself.

They spent a few days turning the spare room into the nursery. Lily had plans to have James open the nursery door when he returned Christmas Eve and for him to see the crib and for that to be his present. This was fifty percent because she she thought it was sweet, and fifty percent because “it’s about time I out surprised James on Christmas Eve”.

On December 19th, Sirius and Lily had plans to pick Remus up from Kings Cross for his holiday break from “teaching those little snot nosed shits” (as stated in his last letter). Sirius arrived at the cottage at 9 am and knocked on the front door.

When Lily opened it she looked at Sirius incredulously, “What the fuck is that Sirius?”

“Lily- first of all- watch your fucking language. There is a baby present. Second of all- it's a wheelchair. For you. To keep Little Prongs safe.”

Lily stared, took a deep breath, and then said in her very best mom voice, “Sirius Black. I am pregnant. I am not an invalid. Women have been having babies for thousands of years. In caves and shit. Not to mention that Evans women have naturally strong baby hips. I believe you listed them on ‘reasons why James should marry Evans’ in fifth year.”

Grumbling, Sirius folded up the wheelchair and transfigured it into an umbrella and told Lily sternly, “You start to feel tired at all- and I’m pushing you around.”

“Deal,” Lily nodded, “Now am I apparating or shall you?”

“Evans. We are driving. Like muggles. Apparating could be bad for the baby.” Sirius scolded.

“You’re an idiot Sirius,” Lily said and grabbed his hand. Sirius felt the familiar pull as the sneaky red head apparated them to London.

When they arrived, Sirius gave Lily a five minute lecture about endangering Little Prongs and dragged her to St. Mungos to make sure “everything was still alright”.

As the healers looked her over, they were barely able to contain their laughter as it was explained to Sirius that “Apparating was fine until the end of the second trimester,” and that, “No, Mrs. Potter does not need to be in a wheelchair or on bed rest, the baby is growing just fine.”

Sirius pouted for the rest of the day.

When Remus joined them he asked, “What's wrong today, Sirius?”

Sirius responded with a huff, “Ask Evans.” When Remus looked to her for the answer, she simply shrugged.

His pouting continued until they reached their favorite muggle diner where they traditionally ate on their Pick up Remus from Hogwarts days. Sirius could rarely find a way to be upset when there was a cheeseburger to be consumed and he brightened significantly as they ate their lunch.

That was until the waitress arrived and asked if they were finished.

When Lily handed her plate over with half of a burger and several chips still left on her plate- Sirius instantly scowled.

As the waitress left, Sirius hissed at her, “Evans- you didn't eat enough.”

“Yes I did- Sirius- I am full!”

Remus watched the exchange confused until Sirius all but whisper shouted

“What about Little Prongs then? Little Prongs might still be hungry! You’re eating for two now!”

“I am quite aware of the baby currently growing inside of me Sirius- I don’t you reminding me every minute” Lily rolled her eyes

“Yes well- sometimes I wonder-”

At this Remus politely cleared his throat.

Suddenly remembering he was there, Lily and Sirius stopped what would quickly escalate into a situation.

Clearing his throat again, Remus asked hopefully, “A baby?”

With a rush of tears and sudden movement, Lily moved into the booth with Remus and Sirius.

“Yes, oh Remus, this isn’t how I wanted to tell you. Sirius has been like a mother hen and I forgot we hadn’t told you. I wanted to tell you and James on Christmas Eve and now I’ve-”

She stopped as Remus pulled her into a hug, and, through his tears, he said, “That's alright Lily. A baby. We’re going to have a baby!”

Pulling away Lily ruffled his hair, “Yes, we are. I haven’t told James yet.”

Remus dabbed at his eyes and said, “Of course- this is in person news”. They embraced again and Sirius interrupted with, “This is all lovely but it still doesn’t change that you didn’t eat enough, Evans”

“Shuttup you ass,” Remus told him, “Lily can eat whatever the fuck she wants and I’m going to get her some ice cream-” and then realizing himself Remus added, “….oh shit- we have to stop cursing now don’t we?”

“Like hell we do,” Lily responded just as Sirius shouted, “LANGUAGE!”

Remus proved to be the balance Lily and Sirius needed. He kept Sirius from being too much of a mother hen and kept Lily calm when she would start to panic.

The day before James was due back, she was in the midst of such a panic.

“We can’t be parents Remus! I can’t even bring myself to wash the dishes half the time! I don’t even know how to change a wizard diaper! James is going to try to teach a little person to fly! And- and- Sirius called dibs on godfather when we got married and how the hell-”

“BREATHE LILY,” Remus told her for the five hundredth time, “A child needs warmth and love and a place to be safe. They’ll have that in spades with you and James. Little Prongs will also have two uncles to show him care and get him out of trouble”

Slowly relaxing Lily asked, “Yeah?”

“Until the very end,” Remus assured her.

The next morning, Remus and Sirius arrived at the cottage to find Lily in full Christmas Eve tornado mode.

James was due to arrive around dinner time, which meant that Lily was busy cooking a feast and putting up her Christmas Eve decorations. Sirius was relieved to see she was wearing her Christmas Eve jumper- so James wouldn’t suspect anything.

After lunch, they retired to the lounge to play cards. James was due to arrive just before dinner so they could make it to the later Christmas pageant. They’d all attended as a family since Lily and James had gotten engaged years before.

Around 3pm- they moved on from muggle card games to exploding snap. Sirius refused to allow Lily to play without some sort of protection for Little Prongs.

“The cards aren’t going to explode inside my uterus Sirius!” Lily argued

“First of all- ew- secondly- I am not taking any chances on my godchild. Besides I’ve been DYING to try this on someone,” Sirius argued.

At this, Remus took another sip of wine.

“Fine,” Lily huffed, “protect me.”

Brandishing his wand with his usual dramatic flair Sirius cast the protection charm.

Lily suddenly found herself inside a bubble.

“Sirius what the FUCK!” Lily tried to get over to him to WHACK him but the charm made her unable to move quickly. Sirius was running from her and slammed into Remus who promptly spilt his wine and dropped his glass. There was so much commotion and noise they didn’t hear the front door open.

Lily had Sirius cornered near the fireplace when James’ voice cut through the chaos, “What the fuck is going on? Why the hell is Lily in a bubble charm?”

Before anyone could say anything else, Sirius exclaimed, “I was trying to protect the baby!”

Trying to cover Remus said jovially, “You’re back early James!”

“They let us out early,” James responded, “but….did Sirius say….a baby?”

“I swear to God Sirius take this thing off of me and don’t say another word or I will shave your head” Lily hissed.

“You would never!” Sirius gasped

“Padfoot-” James said, trying to remain calm, “What the fuck is happening?”

At this Sirius dropped the charm and gave James a smile, “Welcome home Prongs- good practice? Going to win us the cup?”

Looking to his wife, James asked quietly, “Lily?”

“Welcome home, James,” Lily said as she crossed to him and embraced him, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” James said and kissed the top of her head, “can you explain….” and he gestured vaguely.

She grabbed his hands and pulled him up the stairs, “Honestly, I don’t know how Sirius kept his mouth shut when you were planning the proposal. I mean I only told him before you because he was trying to get me to drink and that isn’t good for the baby and-”

James stopped short, “I ask again? Baby?”

“Fuck- I mean- fiddlesticks- I mean…..” with this Lily turned to look him in the eyes.

Lily had thought she’d seen James nervous. When they fought about singing Christmas Carols in October and he approached her in that stupid Santa suit, anytime he walked onto the Quidditch field, and when he had waited for her answer on a Christmas Eve. But now she knew what nervous James really looked like. Terrified, hopeful and with something like joy dangerously bubbling to the surface.

“Yes, James….we’re going to have a baby. I found out right after you left but this is-”

“In person news” he finished.

And it was like a dam had broken. The joy bubbled over and James pulled Lily into his arms with a whoop. “I’m going to be a dad!” Their laughter quickly dissolved into kisses and several “I love yous”.

Once Lily felt grounded again she pulled him to the spare room and told him, “This is how I wanted to tell you- but the best-laid plans...”

James opened the door slowly and felt overcome with something he couldn’t quite define. There sat a crib and a rocking chair. Lily hadn’t done any decorating but here was tangible proof that everything was changing and that there would be someone new in their family.

“Do you like it?” Lily whispered, “I wasn’t sure on the colour or-”

He turned to her and pulled her into another embrace and blinking back his tears he told her, “I love it, Lily. I love it so much.”

From downstairs they heard Sirius shout, “CAN WE COME UP YET?”

“Yes, you mangy mutt!” James yelled back.

The rest of the evening was filled with laughter, tears, hope for the future but mostly family.

It was Lily’s best Christmas Eve Yet.

#robots writes #cigs for fics #blackevans #jily fanfiction

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stupidfanfics · 6 years

Text

Till Death Do Us Part: A Barry Allen Fan Fiction

Chapter 4: Begin Again

Word Count: 3,710

College was like a five-year vacation for me. It really gave me the chance to find out who I really was and start what I thought would soon be the majority of my life.

But, if there was one thing I could never get off my mind, it was how I had left my life in Central City.

Of my four years staying in Seattle, I never visited my mom, she only came to visit me. Which, in my defense, makes sense. I had no one to talk to in Central City, but she had friends in Seattle. Anyways, even after getting my purple hair, and a few tattoos here and there, there was still some kind of guilt that was hidden behind my rebellious lifestyle.

The guilt of leaving Barry Allen in my wake.

And if I wasn’t such an anxious person, I would have hopped on a plane and fixed things with him as soon as I could. So, for about five years (I took a year off to travel), I continually battled with my conscience on whether or not I should fix my old life.

Then the coincidence occurred...

It was another gloomy day in Seattle and I was walking to Pike Place to pick up my morning coffee and muffin. The heels of my black knee-high boots hit the concrete at a rather quick pace, as I rushed over to a small cafe before work. My skirt wasn't helping me walk any faster either, my legs felt like they were slightly bonded together, shortening my strides. I continued walking as fast as I could, clutching my purse as I made my way down the streets. Then my phone began to ring, causing me to stop in my tracks. No one ever called me, at least not this early in the morning. I looked at my phone screen staring at the unknown number, deciding to accept the call after two more rings.

“Hello?” I asked, nervousness in my tone.

“Hello, is this Miss Monica Bell?”

“Um, yes?” I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

“Miss Bell, this is Dr. Harrison Wells from S.T.A.R. Labs…” I didn’t answer so he continued, “Well, somebody sent me your resume, and I was reading over it yesterday and I’d really like to offer you a position here.”

“A-at S.T.A.R. Labs?” I dumbly questioned.

“Yes, I know it’s not your main field of study but we really need a Biologist on the team.”

“Biologist? For what?”

“Well, as you may know, the Particle Accelerator will be started in a week and we need some biologist to study any effects it has on the environment. Or anything living for that matter.”

I bit my lip, the position sounded great, I had always dreamed of working at S.T.A.R. Labs. But, was I really ready to go back to Central City?

“Ms. Bell? Monica?” Dr. Wells’ voice broke me from my thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Will you accept the position?”

To hell with it, I thought, I live for taking risks.

“I will, when do I start?”

Within three days, I packed up my stuff, left my shared apartment, and moved back to the place I called home for seven years. Stepping out of the airport, a burst of nostalgia coursed through my veins. I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the city’s air. I was home, I was where I belonged.

“Monica!” my mom shouted running towards me, engulfing in a huge hug once she was close enough.

“Mom.” I smiled back. “So you’re here for good now?”

“Yes, Mom, I thought we already covered this.”

“Right. What happened to those lilac locks of yours?”

I rolled my eyes, “Well, purple hair didn’t seem very appropriate for a job at S.T.A.R. Labs- speaking of which, you still need to explain why exactly you sent in my resume! Anyways, I set up an emergency hair appointment and got it dyed back to a natural color.”

“Well, it still looks great. Ready to head home?” she asked. I nodded my head, eager to crawl into bed and sleep.

The next morning I woke up pretty late, seeing that I didn’t start work for another two or three days. So, after straightening my hair and throwing on a black dress, some light makeup, and my glasses, I began my walk to the best coffee shop on this planet. CC Jitters. Walking down the streets of Central City, I couldn’t help but smile. Central City has always had that modern-suburbs feel to it which was oddly comforting. Opening the familiar glass doors, the aroma of coffee beans and steamed milk filled my nostrils. I walked up to the counter, heels clanking loudly on the floor.

Narrator’s POV

Iris and Barry were sitting in Jitters Wednesday afternoon during Iris’ lunch break. Barry was rambling on and on about the Particle Accelerator that was set to go off in about two days. Iris’ was trying to act interested, but really she was just unconvincingly nodding her heading letting out a “Mhhm” every few sentences.

“I mean imagine all of the advances in science they could discover. A cure for cancer, new elements, the ability t-” Barry cut himself off, turning his head to face the source of the loud clicking behind him. A tall, blonde woman wearing a black dress and glasses walked into the coffee shop, catching the eyes of every customer and employee.

“Hi, one bulletproof coffee,” she chirped to the cashier.

“Is that…” Barry’s words dragged out, so Iris finished his sentence for him. “...Monica?” Barry and Iris looked into each other’s eyes, sharing the pure emotion of shock. The possibly familiar face of Monica Lucille Bell stepped off to the side to wait for her order.

“What is she doing here, wasn’t she supposed to stay in Seattle?” Iris mumbled to Barry.

“How do expect me to know? I haven’t talked to her in five years!” Barry shouted back in a hushed tone.

Iris cocked her head to the side, “I don’t know, it just seems a little fishy that she shows up here the day after you come back from Starling.”

“Maybe she’s visiting her mom-” Barry suggested.

“I’m gonna go talk to her.” Iris stood up, pushing in her stool.

“No, no, no.” Barry breathed trying to get Iris to stop, but miserably failing. “Iris!” he shouted turning red.

Monica’s POV

I snapped my head around hearing a familiar name, my eyes landing on a dark-haired woman.

“Iris?” I sang, walking up to my childhood friend, engulfing her in a tight hug.

“Monica, I’ve missed you so much. How’s Seattle?” Iris asked me, as we stepped back to face each other. Unsure of how to approach the matter I just said the first thing that came to mind.

“Seattle was good.”

“Was?” Iris pressed on, doing exactly what I was hoping she wouldn’t.

“Yeah, um, I actually just moved back here yesterday.” Iris’ eyebrows stood up, a toothy grin growing on her face. Suddenly she grabbed my hand, pulling me to a table where a young man was sitting with his face tilted towards the ground.

“Ba-”

“Barry?” I whispered when he brought his face up, his eyes meeting mine. What four years did to him is still a mystery to me. I had never expected nerdy, awkward Barry Allen to grow into the twenty-something-year-old sitting in front of me. He waved his hand at me, giving subtle tight lip smile.

“As I was about to say,” Iris continued, “Barry, Monica’s moving back to Central City!” Barry’s eyebrows rose like Iris’ did minutes before, but not to show excitement.

“Oh, um, r-really? That’s great…”

“Yeah, I got a job offer at S.T.A.R. Labs. They need some biologists to do research after the Particle Accelerator goes off.” Barry and Iris raised their eyebrows in unison.

“You mean the S.T.A.R. Labs?” Iris asked.

“I wasn’t aware there was another one.” I chuckled and looked down at my phone screen. “Well, I should probably get going, I’m apartment hunting today. It was really nice catching up with you guys.” I gave an unconvincing smile then walked away, shaming myself for not thinking about the fact I’d probably be running into Barry a lot now that I moved back to Central City. You’re an idiot Monica, a real fucking idiot.

After spending two days of apartment hunting, I finally found a decent place to live until I was able to find a better place, like maybe a condo or a townhouse. I spent all of Friday unpacking and preparing for my first day at my new job. Yes, starting a new job on a Saturday is weird, but being offered a job like this, as a young biologist, was weird. So, I’ve just learned that weird is normal.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always wanted to work under the genius that is Doctor Harrison Wells. And now I was getting that chance of working with him and a small handful of scientists on S.T.A.R. Labs’ newest project, the Particle Accelerator. Unlike most girls my age, I’ve always been a science geek. I guess that’s what made Barry and I such great friends. Our love for science built such a strong bond between us. A bond that was now broken, and since I was back in Central City, I’d probably have to mend it.

After about an hour of rummaging through cardboard boxes, I finally picked out a ‘First Day of Work’ outfit.

I settled on a button-up corduroy pencil skirt and a striped dark purple turtleneck, convincing myself I’d have more than enough time in the morning to pick out shoes. Boy, was I wrong. Being the so-called ‘Lazy Millennial’ I am, I hit snooze about five times before finally waking up with only forty-five minutes to get to S.T.A.R. Labs.

Realizing this, I quickly got out of bed, threw on some light makeup and tied my hair into a ponytail. Rushing out of the door, I grabbed a protein bar and my pristine, white Keds and sprinted to my car, almost forgetting to lock the door to my new apartment.

Somehow I made it to S.T.A.R. Labs at exactly nine o'clock. Pushing open the doors of the lobby, I rushed over to the receptionist.

“Um, hi, yeah I’m looking for Dr. Wells… I’m Mo-”

“Ms. Bell.”

I swivelled around to be met with the source of the somewhat familiar voice.

“It’s very nice to finally meet you in person.” I walked forward and went to shake his hand.

“I could say the same for you, Dr. Wells.” I smiled, trying my best to bury the geek inside of me deep into the dark place where it belongs.

“Well, now that the pleasantries are over with, I’ll take you on a tour and show you to your lab.”

After walking around S.T.A.R. Labs for about thirty minutes and grabbing some coffee, we finally reached a pretty large room with monitors, three computers, and other equipment deliberately placed.

“And this is where you’ll be working the next three days until the accelerator starts running. Then you can begin your research in your personal lab. Ah, and these are the three scientists you’ll be working with the majority of your time here,” Dr. Wells said, motioning hand toward a woman and two men staring at a computer screen. The woman nudged the two men causing all three of them to turn around and stare at me.

“Ms. Bell, meet Doctor Caitlin Snow, Ronnie Raymond, and Cisco Ramon. Guys, this is Monica Bell,” he said turning to face me, “Our new biologist.”

I smiled reaching out to shake the hand of the man dubbed Ronnie Raymond, then Caitlin Snow, and lastly Cisco Ramon who unexpectedly pulled my hand and embraced me in a tight hug.

“Sorry, I’m more of a hugger,” he chuckled, finally allowing me to breathe.

“Me too,” I giggled.

“Hey, I love your shirt,” I chirped scanning over the hands printed on his blue shirt.

“And I appreciate your pop culture knowledge.” He grinned.

“Really, because I prefer her taste in skirts,” Caitlin chimed in.

“Ditto!” I smiled back.

“Well, now that we’re all, somewhat, formally introduced, I’ll be taking Ms. Bell to her workspace,” Dr. Wells butted in, turning towards the hallway.

“It was nice meeting you all, really,” I blurted out, waving goodbye and running towards the direction of Dr. Wells.

“I just met the Caitlin Snow,” I blurted out laughing in amazement once we were far enough down the hallway. “Whoops, I’m sorry. That was so unprofessional,” I muttered.

Dr. Wells chuckled. “No, it’s fine. It’s good to be happy sometimes.”

“I don’t think I can agree with you on that Dr. Wells…” an odd, snobby voice retorted from behind me.

“Hartley, why would you say that?” Dr. Wells said turning around.

“Well, happiness keeps us from being productive,” he stated staring at me. “Who is she?”

“She is Monica Bell our new biologist. Monica this is Hartley Rathaway.”

I stuck my hand out, “It’s a pleasure to m-”

“I don’t shake hands with foolish biologists who run around in the forest wearing Keds,” he retaliated, an evil smirk spreading across his face. Suddenly, the lid popped off of my coffee cup that was now completely crushed and laying on the floor in a puddle of steamed milk and espresso. “Oo, be careful Dr. Wells, she’s a feisty one,” he laughed, turning around and leaving.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice that I-”

“No, it’s fine. That’s just Hartley’s way.”

The next two days I spent my time setting up my lab, but if I had any free time, I went to help Caitlin, Cisco, and Ronnie, whom I had grown very close with over the weekend.

“You two are adorable! Is it too late to get a wedding invite?” I joked as Caitlin and Ronnie longingly stared at each other across their desks.

“We’ll see if we can squeeze you on the list,” Ronnie chuckled, “But more importantly, how am I going to attach these valves together.”

“Oh, I can help!” I yelped, running over to his computer.

“But you’re a-”

“Biologist? Yeah, I’m very aware of that. But I was the mechanic of the family for my entire childhood so step aside,” I said cracking my knuckles. “Pish’ that’s a simple fix! Just mend it together with some steel and you’ll be good to go. I’ll be right back,” I said backing away.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To fix your problem.”

“Are you sure you don’t need help?”

“I’ll be fine Ron, check out these guns,” I giggled flexing my muscles.

“Yeah, still going with you,” he said standing up.

“Woah. This. Is. AWESOME!” I screamed when we walked into the pipeline.

“You sure you don’t need help with all that metal?” I shook my head at Ronnie’s question. “What, do you work out like twenty-four-seven or something?” I turned to face him, furrowing my eyebrows.

“How crazy do you think I am? I’m just a naturally strong damsel in distress.”

“Well, if you’re a damsel in distress, wouldn’t you need some help?”

“Yes, Ronald, why don’t you just go sit in the corner and watch?”

The few conversations like that were the reasons why losing Ronnie was so hard. I may not have known him as well as Caitlin or Cisco had, but he was one of those people who’s very easy to approach. He never deserved what happened to him.

None of us did.

Before I knew it, the night of the Particle Accelerator’s - well - accelerating had come, which also meant the next day, S.T.A.R. Labs would become all work and no play. But all I really needed to focus on was that night’s events and what I was going to wear.

Desperately pushing hangers aside, I searched for the perfect ensemble. I wouldn't be doing too much that night, so I could basically wear anything I wanted. Still, finding something to wear was definitely a challenge... Until-

“BINGO!” I yelled, pulling out an emerald green dress from my tiny closet.

Hair and makeup was a breeze, giving me plenty of time to make it to S.T.A.R. Labs before the ceremony. Walking into my kitchen I grabbed my phone, screen glowing from receiving a notification.

Iris: Barry and I will be at STAR Labs tonight! Hope we can find some time to catch up.

I smiled looking down at the text. I missed Iris. She was always such a sweet, genuine person who at the same time wasn’t afraid to voice her opinion. Twiddling my thumbs, I finally began typing.

Monica: Yay! I can’t wait to see you.

Great job Monica! Mental High Five! I thought to myself while nodding my head. Looking further up the screen I realised that I only had fifteen minutes to get to the ceremony and there was bound to be traffic, so I ran out the door like I had a few days ago.

“My name is Harrison Wells. Tonight, the future begins. The work my team and I will do here will change our understanding of physics. Will bring about advancements in power, advancements in medicine, and trust me that future will be here faster than you think.”

The applause began to come to a halt as Dr. Wells began his speech. After nodding and smiling for a while, I decided to scan the crowd for Iris and maybe Barry. Looking into the sea of people in front of me, I couldn’t help but feel - I don’t know - super. It was like thousands of people were looking up to me, like I had just made their lives a thousand times better. I loved that feeling. In Seattle, I had lost touch of that, and in that moment, I remembered just how much I missed it.

“...ica, MONICA!”

I snapped my head around feeling someone nudging at my side.

“Hey, it’s time to go inside and accelerate this accelerator,” Cisco said beaming.

“Ok Costco,” I joked walking past him.

“Hey! You don’t have the right to call me that yet. I don’t even have a nickname for you.” I turned around giving him puppy dog eyes.

“Awww, poor Crisco.” I giggled.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

I snorted as I walked off the stage, heading towards Dr. Wells to find out where he needed me.

“Ms. Bell, you can go home now. We’ll be expecting you here early tomorrow morning.”

I nodded my head vigorously. “Oh, I know. Umm, is it okay if I just stay here for a while? I just got dolled up and I’m really hoping I didn’t do it for nothing.”

“Whatever you need,” he said walking away. Quickly, I took off my heels and ran to the stairs. Gracefully, I made my way up to one of the many roofs of S.T.A.R. Labs, and as I stared at the glowing city before me, I smiled. I closed my eyes and breathed in the city air, the sound of cars and busses surrounding me.

“What happened to the Keds? Did little baby Monica play dress up in Mommy’s closet?” I heard a familiar, smug voice taunt from behind me.

“Hartley, you shouldn’t be here. You quit two days ago. This is private property,” I muttered, furrowing my eyebrows.

“Well neither should someone like you!” he yelled awkwardly running towards me and pushing me to the ground. “See, I can be feisty too.”

I stood up, straightening my dress. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Oh, you know what I’m doing,” he whispered.

“Actually, I don’t,” I bluntly stated, “So why don't you tell me what’s going on here?!”

“I’m here to show you what you’re truly capable of,” he muttered. “Kryptonian.”

I cocked my head to the side, “How the hell am I a cryptogr-?” Before I could finish my question, I felt my toes leave the roof of S.T.A.R. Labs, leaving me quickly falling to my doom.

As the wind caused my hair to dance around, I looked down at the ground below me. So this is how I die, I thought to myself, a tight lip smile appearing on my face. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, trying to think of any possible way to save myself. I could make my dress into a parachute, oh, or hook my heels onto-

Everything stopped.

The wind, the moving buildings, my hair.

I looked down, I was…

“Floating?” I murmured allowed in confusion.

“Not exactly Monica!” I heard Hartley yell from atop the roof, “Try pushing up.”

At first, I questioned him, but he seemed to know something. So, I pushed my heels up, causing me to move in the opposite direction than I was only a few mere seconds ago. My feet gently landed on the roof, a grin growing on my face.

“How did you know?” I asked, staring down Hartley.

“That coffee cup incident and my years of studying alien history. Guess that-”

“Wait, I’m an-”

“Alien, maybe. I prefer outsider,” he wickedly laughed. Suddenly, a surge of anger coursed through my veins and I sprinted forward, punching Hartley in the nose and knocked him out.

“Oh, my, I’m, gotta go…” I stammered running towards the Cortex. “Caitlin! Caitlin!” I yelled running through the halls. “Cait, there you are! You won’t believe what just-” I stopped talking when she turned around to face me. Her flushed cheeks stained with tears. “What, what’s wrong? Where are Ronnie and Cisco?”

She shook her head at me. “Something went wrong,” she whispered. “Ronnie’s in the Pipeline. Monica, what if he never comes back?!” she sobbed, causing me to jog over to her. I pulled her into a tight hug, unsure of what to say I rocked her back and forth as we waited for something to happen, some glimmer of hope.

Instead, we were met with a big bang.

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@lexeeehhh

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44dagainagain · 3 years

Text

Supplementary materials for KWLUG LMMS Presentation

I gave a presentation at KWLUG this month about LMMS. Here’s a link to the KWLUG site which embeds the recording: https://kwlug.org/node/1250

This post includes supplementary materials.

First, here’s a link to download the slides: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1r5367PwFZ5y1ZHrW4dJ9Xo-64-xhc22S/view?usp=sharing

Second, here’s an annotated project file for the song that I demonstrated called Lazy Days. This should work with LMMS 1.2.2. I’ve licensed it under CC-BY 4.0, so have fun with it: https://drive.google.com/file/d/17fka1JCFu2qTXbBhXLA8zQm_OibTPnU5/view?usp=sharing

Finally, what follows is the text of the script I was reading. It’s not a 1:1 transcription due to ad-libbing and general waffling but it’s pretty close. I refer to the slides a lot so you might want to keep those open in another tab. The scripted portion goes from the start of the presentation to the beginning of the demo...

The Script

Hey so, I’m Michael Hitchens. I’m a Software Developer by day but hobby musician by night. I sing, play the piano and (really, only recently) is when I’ve started to compose. Composition has been one of those areas that bounced off me for a while until, one day, it just clicked. (This was my quarantine hobby btw) So I’m hoping that, if you’re in the same predicament, then this talk can maybe help it click for you too.

Now, while this is a talk primarily about the program LMMS, I do need to cover some groundwork as well, just to get the most out of the program.

What is LMMS?

LMMS is a digital audio workstation (shortened D-A-W, or more commonly pronounced “daw” (like in “dawn”)). The jargon means that this program was designed to assist in making music, in much the same way that CAD programs assist in designing objects.

On the slides I’ve included a link to the docs because, even though they’re a bit out of date in places, they’re actually pretty well written. Most of my demo is based around them.

There’s also this sharing platform. Now, I haven’t used it but it does look cool. Although it also looks relatively unmaintained and, based on the GitHub issues that I’ve read, it might not be the pinnacle of secure database design. Just be warned.

Digital Audio Workstations

If LMMS is a DAW, then no really what is a DAW? DAWs are a lot like non-linear video editors. You can record and produce multiple bits of audio then mix and match and layer and rework and filter all to your heart’s content, and all without leaving the DAW.

The modern DAW is decades in the making. It’s the culmination of music industry tech and secrets. What if I told you that you could have all the power in this room-sized mixer in your laptop? And more? Oh year and this is just a mixer! DAWs are also a synthesizer, a sequencer, a, a rhythm machine, a recorder, an amp, a cabinet? It’s incredible

Now, the history of audio recording at large (which I’ve entirely left out of this presentation because 40 minutes tic toc) is important in-so-far as you realize that DAWs still crib the aesthetic and mimic the functionality of the analogue systems from days of yore. For example, let’s look at these illustrative LMMS screenshots. The mixer on the bottom-left uses sliders but the instrument volume control on the top-left uses knobs. Why? Well because that’s what they look like on a real mixing board. Why do the synthesizer interfaces on the right all use knobs? Because that’s what eurorack synthesizers look like. Understanding these traditions and embracing them can explain some headscratchers. (For the record, this is one of the reasons that DAWs in general bounced off me for a while)

Other modern DAWS include:

Cubase

GarageBand

Logic Pro

Ableton Live

FL Studio

Pro Tools

(my personal favourite) Reaper

There’s probably a bunch of others I’m missing but they’re all similar at this point. You pick one, you learn it, you use it ‘til you die. These are first-rate packages but they’re also inaccessible mainly due to their high price tags. These things cost up to a thousand dollars. (I’m fudging the numbers here a bit for effect, aside from the Apple products there’s a whole bunch of tiering and stuff they do. Like I got Reaper for $60) On top of that, they have an incredibly steep learning curve. That’s not to say LMMS is a cake walk in comparison, but it does get a hell of a lot more complicated.

(For the record, if I had a Mac, I would totally use GarageBand. It’s actually really really good. The interface is easy to understand and the preset synthesizers and drums sound amazing.)

LMMS is a lot like other DAWs but I’ve found that it has several glaring limitations:

There is no mic recording. There’s no way to hit a record button and record a mic directly into LMMS. Every mainstream DAW has this ability and its clearly missing here

You can import and play samples, but they’re hard to manipulate. They feel much more like discrete static objects rather than pools of PCM data that you can mix and match and blend with other samples. Again, every other mainstream DAW does this well

So that’s not to say LMMS isn’t good, you just have to realize what it’s good for:

Synthesized

MIDI-based

Judicious use of samples (e.g. drums)

(slightly) more intuitive interface

Drag ‘n drop, works out of the box

Music Notation and Music Theory

Two more topics before I get to LMMS.

As much as I want to go over the fine details of the harmonic stylings of 18th century dead white dudes, there’s too much to cover in a 40 minute presentation. I will cover a few fundamentals though because it will give us a convenient and widely used way to communicate about a rather abstract idea. But it is gonna be pretty technical and it’s gonna go pretty fast, so strap in.

The classical way of conveying music information is on a staff, shown here, but I’m not going to go into that too much because LMMS doesn’t directly use it. If you want something tailored to music notation, use MuseScore instead.

However, it uses a similar concept called the piano roll, the image on the right. These two images are equivalent.

Music (as it’s valued by our culture) is a collection of notes (labelled here) on two axes: time and pitch. (Think of it like a 2D graph.)

The Y axis consists of notes from a piano arranged from low (bassy, gravelly, earthy, etc) to high (harsh, shrill, piercing). Humans hear from around 20Hz to 20000hz. (The distance between each note is consistently a semitone, you can look this up later). You can describe these notes by their frequency (for example 440hz) but its more common to use note name (for example A4). (Also something to look up later, valid note names are ABCDEFG, then it repeats. It’s modular arithmetic!)

On the X dimension, notes are read over time from left to right. The basic unit of time is a beat, commonly delineated with vertical bars (which I’ve exaggerated in red here). How fast a “beat” is depends on the tempo. This is measured in beats per minute or BPM. 120 BPM is fairly common, which is nice because it neatly divides into 2 beats a second, or 500ms per beat. To stay on beat, musicians use a metronome. The metronome produces a tone each beat which the musician anticipates or reacts to when performing. The duration of the note can be a beat, a fraction of a beat, or multiple beats.

Beats can then be grouped into bars. How many beats per bar is determined by the time signature. Common time, or 4/4 puts 4 beats per bar. Bars can then be grouped into phrases, and phrases grouped into sections and sections can be grouped into songs.

Independent of bars, we can consider other groupings of notes. On the pitch dimension, notes that play simultaneously are called chords or harmony. This is a C major chord.

MIDI

Close to the heart of the modern DAWs is MIDI, the musical instrument digital interface. You’re probably already familiar with it, a lot of retro DOS games have a MIDI soundtrack. The interface describes note pitch and duration, then its up to an interpreter like your old SoundBlaster to figure out how to turn the D4 its being told to play into a signal that goes to your speakers. My musical keyboard (the Casio CTK-3000, don’t buy it) speaks MIDI out, which I can hook up as an input to my computer over USB and use my computer as a synthesizer. More importantly, I can record the notes for later use. For some (like me) this is a more intuitive interface for inputting musical ideas. However, DAWs do typically have a way to input notes using mouse+keyboard, using the piano roll interface.

We use MIDI because it’s compact and easy to manipulate in fine detail, unlike RAW audio from a microphone which is bulky and takes a lot of computation to do the most basic processing (though the tech is getting better just not widely accessible, see the product Melodyne).

I gloss over the spec details because the minutiae of the protocol framing and messaging are really not that important to us. All we really need to know is that it’s the format used to record my piano.

(At this point I switched to a live demo, for which I had no script.)

#lmms #linux #kwlug

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marlinswritingarchive · 3 years

Text

“Show And Tell” (Abridged)

[The Hand Kissing Scene(s) From “Tomorrow Never Comes”, abridged]

A muffled voice. “Jim?”

Footsteps.

“I thought you-”

“Jim.” Spock presses his forehead against his, and Jim keeps talking, as if he can explain it to himself somehow.

“- I guess it worked, because-”

“Oh. Okay,” he says, breathlessly. “That’s not the first time we’ve-? Uh? Is it-?”

“No,” Spock murmurs. His eyes glimmer with something, and he watches Jim. Waiting.

Jim places his hands against his hips. “Can we-?”

“You’re at a- slight advantage, Spock.”

Spock looks at him.

He huffs. “Don’t tell me you knew I was going to say that.”

A raised eyebrow. “I did not say a word.”

“Still...” Jim glances down, and grabs Spock’s right hand, raising it to his lips. “You’re showing me up.” He kisses the palm, twice.

“There is no need to be embarrassed, Jim.” His eyes twinkle, teasingly.

“Mm.”

“I’ve heard that Vulcan hands are very sensitive,” Jim comments.

“They are,” Spock says, neutrally.

“Hm. An erogenous zone, perhaps?”

Spock raises an eyebrow cryptically.

Jim continues his ministrations, and caresses Spock’s other hand as he goes. Gradually, he kisses the pad of each finger, and rubs small circles into the palm of his hand.

Spock watches him appraisingly.

“Well?” He murmurs.

“It was certainly- nice,” Spock purrs. “But it was not- surprising.”

Jim narrows his eyes, and pins him to the bed with a chuckle.

Spock considers. “Not much was concealed from you. We were to take down the outpost, at which point, we would be joined by a strike team from Section-31, either here, or in space.”

“One strike team?” Jim murmurs. He thinks of the crates and crates of power packs, and the strange, mismatched weapon on the front of Georgiou’s ship. Retractable, circular.

Almost like a drill.

Spock closes his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Spock,” Jim murmurs, touching his arm. He sighs. “It would be a lot easier to work out what’s going on if we knew what was on that ship.”

He draws his knees to his chest, and listens to the rhythmic beat of rain against the windows.

Spock stirs next to him. “Ten thousand cc’s of red matter,” he murmurs.

“What?”

Jim frowns. “Knew you? I don’t-”

Jim rests his head on his knees and stares at Spock. Given their current situation, the idea of actual, tangible time-travel isn’t so far-fetched, but he stares at him anyway.

“In the other universe, Romulus was destroyed when its sun went Nova, and The Nerada was brought through the singularity it created.”

“Another universe,” Jim whispers.

Spock nods. “Another me… Whom Nero was determined to get revenge on; for the destruction of his homeworld.”

Jim frowns. “But- he didn’t do it deliberately.”

“With Pike,” Jim breathes.

On the back of his neck is the beginning of a scar. It continues under his shirt, and Spock’s fingers fall still against the neckline. He peers at Jim.

A question.

“Can I…?”

Spock nods, and Jim touches the mark gently. Spock tenses.

“Does it hurt?” He whispers.

He searches the wall, a vague, faraway look in his eyes. “It did.”

Gently, Jim traces his hand up Spock’s back, and slides closer to him, placing a leg on either side of his waist. He rests his chin on Spock’s shoulder, and brushes his cheek with his.

“It’s my fault, Jim. The destruction of my home, and yours.”

Jim shakes his head. “No. You only think that because you’ve been told that. You-” He softens his voice. “Nero is responsible for his own actions.”

Spock swallows.

“Leland was wrong- more to the point, Leland is unhinged. He may blame you for the destruction of earth, but-” he squeezes his hand. “I don’t.”

“But, a version of me was responsible for bringing the Narada back in time-”

Spock breathes shallowly.

He rumbles. “Jim.”

“Mm? Oh,” Jim smiles, slyly, against his skin. “So, that surprised you, huh? I guess you’ve never shown me your scars before.”

He kisses his neck again, and Spock grasps his hands, holding them against his chest and ruminating. Jim sits up slightly.

“Spock. It’s okay. You didn’t kill anyone... You’re no murderer.”

He breaks contact with Spock, and retrieves his penknife from the bedside table. “The last time I saw my brother alive, he gave me this. ‘Just in case.’ ” His lip quivers, and he looks away, to the drops of rain running down the window. “We were on Tarsus IV,” he whispers. “He tried to steal food for us, on the night…” He sets the knife back down, and a tremor runs through his hands. “On the night that the colonists were killed.”

Spock watches him.

“Jim.”

“I know; I shouldn’t blame myself. But, I kept that knife. For years, every time I looked at it…”

Spock nods. “Survivor’s guilt is a powerful thing.”

Jim settles against him. “I suppose we know that better than most.”

“I think Sam wanted me to be brave. Like him.

“He gave his life for yours. It was a gift.”

“That, and the knife.” He watches him for a moment. “When did you get so wise?”

He shrugs. “I know something about the things older siblings are expected to sacrifice for their youngers.”

Jim looks up. “You’re an older sibling?”

“No.”

“Oh.” He falls silent for a moment, and traces the lines on Spock’s back absent-mindedly.

Thunder rumbles outside, and Spock tenses, but relaxes almost immediately into his touch.

Lightning flashes. Jim thinks about the night that he was struck by it, and nuzzles into Spock’s shoulder. “Meld with me,” he whispers. “I just want to be close to you.”

Spock turns, slowly, and lifts Jim’s chin slightly. He kisses him gently, and places his hand over his face. “Your mind to my mind,” he murmurs against his mouth.

Jim slumps.

Jim pulls away, gasping, and grasps at Spock’s hands.

‘Spock…’

They’re unmelded, and yet, they talk without words.

Jim’s first kiss. He places a hand to his head, almost dizzy, and stares into Spock’s eyes.

A warmth flows down Jim’s spine. He straightens up, and Spock shivers in turn.

‘What’s happening?’ Jim grips his arm.

‘A bond is forming between us,’ Spock says. ‘If you wish, I could stop it-’

‘No,’ Jim says. ‘It’s okay.’

‘Our minds will be joined, forever,’ Spock warns.

‘Spock,’ As the sensation overwhelms him, Jim struggles to form non-abstract thought. ‘We’re already the only people here.’

‘You don’t understand the significance-’

But Jim does.

You are the most magnificent thing I’ve ever seen.

As are you.

They fold together, breathing heavily, burnt out. Spock rests his head against Jim’s chest, and Jim holds him protectively. In this moment, he could save him from anything.

Spock headbutts him gently, as if trying to dissolve into him.

They fall asleep curled together, their bodies as entwined as their souls.

Taken from Tomorrrow Never Comes, Chapter 6: “Show And Tell” [tumblr] [ao3]

Tomorrow Never Comes, archive of our own

Tomorrow Never Comes, tumblr:

[front cover] [chapter 5] [chapter 6, abridged] [chapter 7]

#tomorrow never comes

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