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name-me-regret · 3 years

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If The World Was Ending 13/?

If The World Was Ending Chapter Thirteen: Silent Running

Read on AO3.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

“Take the children and yourself And hide out in the cellar By now the fighting will be close at hand Don't believe the church and state And everything they tell you Believe in me, I'm with the high command

Can you hear me, can you hear me running? Can you hear me running, can you hear me calling you?

There's a gun and ammunition Just inside the doorway Use it only in emergency Better you should pray to God The Father and the Spirit Will guide you and protect from up here

Can you hear me, can you hear me running?”

~Silent Running - Mike & The Mechanics

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Buck wasn’t at all surprised when he got back from the zoo to find that Tony had left. Honestly, he’d stayed longer than he thought he would have. Although, he was a bit hurt that he hadn’t even left a note, or even sent him a text message. They hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk much. Buck knew the man led a very busy and exciting life, but he had wanted him to know a bit about his own life.

The truth was that he had decided to stop moping and do light duty, at least until the department cleared him to return to regular duties. If Buck was being honest with himself, the Fire Marshall position, while it paid more, wasn’t something he wanted. He knew he’d excel at it, because he loved random trivia. So, learning and remembering the many rules and fire regulations would be a piece of cake. Math wasn’t his strongest subject, but he knew enough to be able to do his job and do it well.

So, he was confident that he’d be a great Fire Marshall, but it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to be on a fire engine, be the one in the harness rescuing people that couldn’t save themselves. It didn’t have anything to do with the praise he might receive, but about feeling like he had a purpose in life. Buck was certain that being a firefighter was that purpose, and he would endure anything to get back to that. Even if that was doing light duty as a Fire Marshall.

He had wanted Tony to know all this, since it felt like there was a sudden distance between Eddie and him. The trip to the zoo hadn’t been like their other outings. Eddie had seem —not cold— but there had certainly not been the same relaxed, almost intimate feeling Buck always felt. Whenever they were together, Buck could almost lie to himself and say he was a family with Eddie and Chris.

However, today it hadn’t felt like that. It hadn’t felt like BuckEddie with Chris. That day it had been Eddie and Chris, and Buck just tagging along. He couldn’t explain the reason for this, but it had seem to come from Eddie.

Buck had asked if everything was alright, but the man had reassured him that everything was fine. Although, the smile hadn’t been his usual ones, but he couldn’t really argue. Buck didn’t know what the problem was, so he was at a loss.

And now Tony was gone as well, and Buck felt even more lost.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Tony could feel the cold sweat on his back as he hacked more and more into SHIELD’s mainframe and kept coming back with one thing: HYDRA was very alive, and it was living inside of SHIELD. He was horrified how much of the organization had a hold of SHIELD, where Tony couldn’t see where one ended and the other began.

He had contacted Fury on a secure line (even more secure than the phone lines at the White House) and he had told him about his suspicions on something not being right as well. Tony didn’t know if he was bullshitting and trying to cover up the fact that HYDRA had pulled one over on him. At this point he didn’t really give a shit. Tony just wanted to fix this, and now.

Now he knew why there was a backdoor in the LAFD. Because Stark Industries donated a lot to several Fire Departments, but none more than the LAFD. He had started this when he learned that Buck was a firefighter, and HYDRA was interested in whatever caught Tony’s interest. As soon as he’d realized that and that they might be tracking him, he’d gotten the fuck out of Buck’s apartment.

He knew they might be able to track him easily if the hellicarriers managed to link to the spy satellites, and he was working furiously to make sure they hadn’t found his connection to Buck. If they had, then he would be very pissed at himself.

Tony knew he had a dangerous job, that he had enemies that could and would target those he cared about. One would think he’d learned his lesson after the Mandarin debacle where not only had Happy been hurt, but Pepper had been kidnapped, and even Rhodey had been in danger. He’d gotten sloppy. It was as simple as that.

The breakup with Pepper had weakened him emotionally and he had allowed himself to be near Buck, spend time with him without making sure he wasn’t being tracked. And it wasn’t only Buck; it was also Bobby and Athena and her kids. Tony had stayed in their house and they could be a target. While he was near, all of the 118 could become a target.

That had been three days ago now. The last he had heard, Fury was going to meet with Alexander Pierce about not only delaying Project Insight, but also about HYDRA’s infiltration of SHIELD. Tony had yet to hear from him, and he was very worried. Nick was a tough son of a bitch, but even he wasn’t invincible. Tony knew that he had gotten Steve involved and that Natasha had already been on covert missions within missions to find out about some inconsistencies.

Tony might need to contact one of them, but there was no way of knowing if they had a secure line.

‘Sir, I’m getting reports that Director Fury has been killed,’ JARVIS suddenly piped up.

“Fuck!” Tony cursed. He paused a moment as he breathed heavily, wincing as his hand went to the side. The superhero had managed to get some antibiotics and been changing the bandages as best as he could, but not as well as he should. So, he was still in pain. It’s a miracle he hadn’t pulled any of the stitches if he was honest.

“Get me confirmation on that J,” he told his AI. He wouldn’t believe the man was dead without seeing a body. Nick was a slippery SOB and wouldn’t be taken out so easily. “Also, try to get in contact with Maria Hill.” He was well aware that the more modern communicators were likely to be compromised, but he had his ways. HYDRA was right to have him on their kill list, because he was the only one that could stop them. And he would.

“They’re going to regret using my technology to power the hellicarriers,” he said. He wouldn’t be able to disable the satellites, since there wasn’t really time for it. However, disabling three targets would be a piece of cake, especially when they were using his tech. “Let’s take away control from HYDRA.”

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

The ladder truck and fire engine as well as the ambulance pulled alongside the building in the fire lane. Eddie followed by Lena, Bobby, Jensen and the rest of the crew all jumped from the trucks. Lena and Jensen were working as a team, since while Eddie worked well with her, not so much with Jensen. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a good fire fighter, because he was. Eddie just didn’t have the same communication he had with Buck, and so when he could work alone, he did. When he had to work with someone, he worked with Lena. He’d made this clear with Bobby, who hadn’t seen a problem with it.

While he’d have preferred Buck to Lena, the woman was the second best choice.

“Everyone, please keep moving to the designated area,” one of the firefighters from the other station was telling the people that were evacuating the building. The back of his turncoat read ‘Towne’.

“My God, that’s the biggest damn fire I’ve never seen,” Chimney said sarcastically.

Eddie rolled his eyes as he continued walking, and went to where Hen was next to a fire hydrant. “I hate fire drills,” she groaned as she crouched beside it.

He grunted as he connected the hose to the hydrant. “City mandates we do ‘em every three years. Can’t fight City Hall.”

“First alarm was triggered at 12:20 pm. Call came in 30 seconds later. Boots down, hoses out by 12:43pm,” Bobby informed them.

“That’s what?” Eddie asked as he stood after he finished.

“Four minutes over our allotted response time.”

Chim glanced over as he had been lifting a hose. “Ouch, that’s gonna cost us some points.”

Hen stood with an eye roll. “Somebody’s gonna have to explain that to the new Fire Marshal.” They looked at one another and then all three of them looked pointedly at Bobby.

If he could, Bobby would groan loudly, but he only gave a small sigh. It was times like these he regretted having accepted the Captain position. He guessed there was no choice, and went to find Buck. It only lifted his spirits a little that Buck hadn’t completely thrown his career away over a little set-back, but it wasn’t much.

Bobby just hoped that when he told Buck the truth, he’d understand his reasoning. He hoped.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Buck was pleasantly surprised when he was invited to dinner at Athena and Bobby’s house. He’d never say it out loud, but he regarded the two in a parental role than he had ever seen his parents. Bobby certainly saw Bobby as more of a father-figure than his own abusive father.

As they sat around the table, he felt a warm feeling at the fact that it was only him with the couple instead of it being the rest of the 118. Although, he would admit that he wouldn’t have minded if they had been there. The distance that had grown between him and Eddie hadn’t changed, and the feeling of dread that he was being replaced had only grown when he had seen Lean Bosko in his place at Eddie’s side.

It had felt like they were all moving on without him. So, now he was feeling desperate to get back to full duty with his team, besides Eddie. After telling Bobby and Athena about the lawyer trying to get him to sign an affidavit against the 118 to blame them for the logjam on the stairwell during the fire drill.

“Hey, that- that lawyer got me thinking. There’s strength in numbers, right? Maybe I could get everyone to sign a statement of support or something.” The more the idea got into his head, the more he wanted to do it.

“Buck-” Bobby started, but Buck cut him off.

“Show the higher ups that- that you guys don’t think I’m a liability.

“Buck-”

“They’d have to listen, right?” He felt hopeful the more he spoke of it, of getting back to his team, to the only family besides Maddie he had ever known.

“I want you to listen to me,” Bobby tried again.

“I mean, you told them I was ready,” he cut him off again. He was starting to feel desperate, not being able to get back. Buck wanted to come back to where he belonged. “I mean, these- these dumb asses- they would, they would have no right to keep me-!”

“I’m the dumb ass!”

“Uh-what?” Buck asked, trying to smile past the shock. He had a feeling he knew where this was going, but he didn’t want to believe it; refused to believe it. Now, he looked at Bobby, silently pleading for the man to say anything than what he was sure he was about to say.

“You’re not ready. That’s what I told them when they asked.”

When Buck left the Grant-Nash house, he wondered where he was supposed to go now. He had thought that Bobby had his back, since the man had told him the department thought he was a liability to come back because of the blood thinners. It had all turned out to be a lie. Bobby had been lying to him, and he was deeply hurt by this more than anything.

Now, he had no one to turn to, since he was sure that they would all agree with Bobby. As he got into his Jeep, slamming the door violently as he did, he glanced at the console where Chase Mackey’s business card was. He glanced at the time on his phone, seeing that it was a bit late, but even then he unlocked his phone and dialed the number.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

‘There’s too many, sir. We won’t be able to save them all.’

“We’ll save as many as we can,” Tony snarled, hands moving over the keys.

Every single SHIELD agent had been compromised when Rogers and Romanoff had uploaded all those files onto the internet. He’d already grounded the hellicarriers, so he hadn’t had to worry about that. But now not only were all the agents that weren’t HYDRA in danger, but so were their families.

He hadn’t slept more than six hours in the last three days, but he couldn’t rest. There were still so many of them. So many already dead that shouldn’t have had to die if only they had thought about what they had been risking. While HYDRA had indeed infiltrated SHIELD, that was mostly positions of power, or liaisons such as to the FBI and CIA. However, lower level positions and a lot of regular agents were not HYDRA.

‘Sir, I have an incoming call from Clint Barton.’

“Not now,” he snapped, trying to maneuver a suit in sneaking into Pakistani without being seen. There was an agent embedded in deep cover there and time was running out to get him out.

‘He says it’s urgent, sir.’

“Fuck,” he growled. “Take over this, J.”

He went to the holoscreen and the waiting call. “This better be life and death, Barton! I’m busy cleaning up your buddy’s fuckup before everyone dies!”

The man looked to have seen better days, one eye swollen shut and a cut along his cheek and when he spoke there was blood in his teeth. “I was compromised... I got out in time... but my kids... I haven’t been able to get in contact with my wife.” He was wheezing and he was clearly more injured than what Tony could see, perhaps fluid in his chest cavity and would need immediate medical help.

Tony was shocked at learning that Barton had a wife and kids, then again he hadn’t really gotten to know the man. So, he guessed him having a family wasn’t that weird. “Give me their location and I’ll send a jet for them.” He didn’t even ask him to explain or anything, knowing that time was of the essence. Tony hoped they weren’t already dead. “You better get your ass to the nearest hospital, Barton,” he also told him.

“Thank you, Tony,” the man sighed in relief.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said with a grim expression. He was being stretched thin but he had to at least try. Tony would not have any regrets over not having done everything he could in saving the compromised agents, but especially their innocent families.

He’d pulled FRIDAY from the Ten Rings and she was helping JARVIS use every suit, jet, plane, helicopter, or vehicle at their disposal to get out as many SHIELD personnel alive as he could. There had been too many times that he had arrived too late, finding a dead agent, or their murdered family.

Tony was teetering on the edge of a breakdown, but he didn’t have time. He had to hold himself together, somehow.

“Alright Fri, give me control of a jet near these coordinates,” he told his newly awakened AI. He was so proud at how quickly she’d adapted to working with Tony and JARVIS, and it was like she’d always been there.

‘There is a jet 23 miles from that location, but there is not enough fuel to get to one of the safe houses,’ FRIDAY explained.

Tony shook off his fatigue as he felt lightheaded all of a sudden, taking a few deep breaths before he lifted his face. “Give it everything she’d got, baby girl. The objective is to get Barton’s family away from their current location.”

‘Sir, we’ve got incoming,’ JARVIS said suddenly, sounding worried.

“Bring up security feed,” he told him. The holoscreen appeared with the feed of outside the bunker. He was where his Malibu mansion had once been, which no one knew about. Although, judging by the man in black leather with the cybernetic arm that had just now shot out his camera, someone knew he was here. It was most likely HYDRA, and he had wondered when they would send someone for him.

However, he might be in trouble, since he currently only had just a basic armor with no weapons; it couldn’t even fly, having sent every other armor out to help in extracting the agents. Tony could fix it to at least get it to fly, but nothing else with the little time he had.

He hurried over to the armor, attaching everything needed to get it to fly. The man wasn’t even halfway through doing this when he paused and looked up as he heard the scream of metal being bent. Tony inhaled deeply to stay calm. He was in trouble.

“J, initiate Rescue Protocol.”-

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largedenominationsplease · 4 years

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you’d come over, right?

Summary: A year after Kiara and JJ broke up, they come home to the Outer Banks to deal with one of the hardest years of their lives.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: swearing, canon-compliant smoking, au, minor character death, cancer, current events

A/N: Alternate Universe: JJ and Kiara dated seriously for a long while, but over a year before this story, they parted ways. Set in present-day with current events, but most current events are only mentioned briefly for context. All characters aged 21+. Partially inspired by If the World Was Ending by JP Saxe and Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi and current events and Sad Feels™ and a sad playlist my sister made. Come cry with me... also on ao3

Shoutout to @alexandracheers for proofreading <3

Sometimes even the most beautiful things die. It’s the sad cycle of life.

It starts with a spark, a first touch, a first look, a first kiss;

a few embers of warmth, holding hands, secret glances, flirty texts;

the roaring flames of passion, clinging to one another, leaving the party early, tangled limbs and tangled sheets;

then the steady heat of a well-tended fire, cozy mornings making coffee, binging your favorite shows, texting to see how your day is.

But, sometimes, even the most loved and cared for fires die. They go out with little warning or reason. What was a welcome flame in the hearth one night may be a bed of ash by morning.

Their fire died a long time ago. It wasn’t anyone’s fault - no one was trying to douse the flames - it just went out. When they sat down and discussed breaking up - parting ways was a more apropos term - she hadn’t even cried. When he packed up and moved out, it was unceremonious. He even kissed her forehead as he left, like he’d done a hundred times before, only this time he wasn’t coming back.

She still dreamed about him. Sometimes unbidden images of picket fences and a dog and home-cooked meals and potted plants intruded upon her thoughts. Once, when her period was late, she’d even dreamt of a curly-haired little boy with blue eyes - which was ridiculous because she was very single at the time. Did she even want to have kids?

He thought about her, too. Each new destination she traveled to brought new Instagram posts and awakened an ache in his chest he couldn’t quite place. That ache deepened when she revisited places they had gone together - unwanted memories flooding his senses. The smell of coconut still sent him spinning, missing the feeling of running his fingers through her hair, over the smooth skin of her arms and legs.

What hurt so badly about their fire dying wasn’t that it died. What hurt was that it should never have died; that it died so quietly and suddenly; that one day it was there, burning bright, and the next it was a cold gray heap of coals.

Even their friends were surprised when he moved back home. “Where is she?” and “What happened?” and “We had no idea you had any problems.”

Followed by the futile response of, “It was just time to move on.”

And they did move on, eventually. She traveled to forget and perhaps after a few months she could call herself truly happy - though there was always an ache of not having someone to share each experience with. He stayed at home, but he opened his own business and the familiarity of home soothed any wounds he sustained. Their fire might have gone out, but they kept the bed of ash in the fireplace, a shrine to what they once had, and it was more comforting than sad after a time.

When the virus first hit, she’d been back in the states, on the West Coast. She messaged him:

Are you safe? Still have a job? Anyone sick?

Fine for now. You?

Fine.

When the protesting started, he knew she’d be in the thick of it. Not that he didn’t get involved, he just knew her passion for people and justice. He messaged her back this time:

You’re protesting, aren’t you? Are you safe?

Of course! But I’m being careful. You?

Staying safe. Protesting here, too.

Hurricane Isaias wasn’t meant to be a bad storm, but she had still tracked it up the East Coast. Her suspicions were confirmed when it intensified.

Isaias didn’t wipe y’all out, did it?

No, blew through pretty quick. The Cut took a hit. Gonna take some time to fix it up.

At first, after reading the headlines about the fires out west, he thought it was a joke. As they spread, he realized how serious it was and it worried him.

You evacuated, right? The air quality is shit where you are.

Yep. Gonna take a pandemic-friendly tour of some national parks further east.

Every new development meant more messages sent. Simple little check-ins that meant nothing and everything. It was a scary year the world faced, and even after all those months apart, the only thing they wanted was to find comfort in one another’s safety. On opposite ends of the country, the two of them tied together by current events and the memory of their relationship.

Mid-September, while she was traveling away from the fires on the West Coast, he got a call from her mother. He hadn’t spoken to her mother much since they had broken up, over a year ago, but she still liked his Instagram posts and struck up conversations when she saw him around town.

“Hey, Mrs. Anna.”

“Hi, JJ. I’ve told you, it’s just Anna.” Her voice was soft and as kind as ever, but held an edge of tiredness and strain he hadn’t heard from her before. “We have some… tough news, and we wanted you to hear it from us first.”

Colon cancer…

Kiara’s hearing faded into white noise as her mother spoke those words to her through the phone. Her mother went on to explain that even though they caught it late, the doctors were optimistic that her father would make a recovery. Treatments were set to start right away.

“Mom, I’m coming home.”

“Honey, we know you’ve got traveling plans. We’ll be fine. We don’t want to interrupt your-”

“Mom, I can’t do much traveling with this virus. Dad is more important than any of that, anyway. I’m coming home.”

JJ cried when Anna hung up the phone. Mike was rough around the edges, and he was resistant to Kiara dating a Maybank, but once JJ won him over, he treated him like a son. Hearing this news was a punch to the gut - it was like losing a father. Even in the midst of his sadness he knew Kiara would be sent into a tailspin.

Hey. You okay?

She was typing in response, then nothing. He waited, seeing the little bubble pop up again and again and fade away each time. And then she videocalled. She hadn’t called him in months - not since they parted ways. The little screen showed her in her car, only illuminated by her dim phone screen and the passing street lights. Tears stained her cheeks, but she kept her eyes trained on the road. “I’m not okay.”

“You’re driving right now?”

“I’m coming home.”

“Kiara, pull over. It’s late. Get some sleep.”

“I can’t. They caught it late - he might… who knows how much time I have-”

“Kie.” His voice was soft. He was always soft toward her.

Her face crumpled as the tears fell fresh. He let her cry. He talked to her about nothing and everything as her tears subsided. She cried as she drove through the night, talking to him when she was calm, crying harder when the conversation lulled. She didn’t stop until she noticed he’d fallen asleep, the video call still rolling. It was after four in the morning. The pang of nostalgia that tore through her was enough to make her catch her breath. They hadn’t talked like that since they first started dating. A few tears sneaked out of the corners of her eyes, but she couldn’t tell if the memories or the fear of the future caused them. She found a safe place to park and fell into a fitful sleep in the back of her car.

She made it home just in time for her dad’s first surgery. JJ met her and her mother at the hospital parking lot, all masks and six-feet of distance until she said, “I could really use a hug.” The three of them colliding into a group hug within seconds.

JJ made sure the Carreras didn’t need anything as Mike went through chemo and more and more hospital stays. He ran errands for them since none of them could risk going out and bringing anything home. He did yard work since Mike hated an unkept lawn. Kiara always made sure to leave him snacks and drinks on the back deck as the North Carolina heat stretched into October. Aside from that, he willingly put himself at Anna’s beck and call. Anything and everything she needed done, he jumped at the opportunity to help. He would even come over in the evenings to play cards with Mike - masks included. Kiara’s heart ached as she watched her parents get along with him so well. She hadn’t realized how far he had wormed his way into their little family, but here they were, acting as though nothing had changed between him and their daughter, loving him like a son. He praised her mom’s cooking until she blushed and there were times he could make her dad laugh so hard they all forgot for a moment that cancer existed. Those moments were fleeting and oh-so cherished.

Mike deteriorated quickly. It made Kiara sick to see her father become a cancer-wasted shell of himself. As optimistic as the doctors had been originally, the treatments weren’t taking well. As chemo wrapped up, his numbers were still dangerously high. November brought another emergency surgery that confirmed their worst fears. Mike moved home. They were told all that was left was to manage the pain and make him as comfortable as they could. They had perhaps a month left. JJ moved into the guest room to be as close as possible in case anything was needed from him. The four of them were left waiting as Thanksgiving approached.

Kiara wasn’t sleeping. Maybe it was knowing her ex-boyfriend was staying down the hall from her, though that was an odd thing to focus on. More likely, it was the fact that her father was passing away right before her eyes, slipping through her fingers as she stood by, helpless. The sun had set hours ago, and she sat with a now-cold cup of tea in front of her at the kitchen table, mulling over each crazy event that had led her to this point.

JJ wandered into the kitchen, opening the fridge to inspect the contents. “What are you doing up so late?” he asked.

“I could ask you the same thing.” The words came out harsher than she had intended, but then again, she was exhausted in every single sense of the term.

JJ brushed off her roughness. “Hungry. Did you eat dinner?” He knew she hadn’t, so he set about making an extra sandwich.

After a few moments of silence, Kiara whispered, “It’s all my fault.”

“What?”

“It’s my fault,” she repeated, her lip trembling. “I always kept track of his appointments for him. He was always shit at remembering to go to the doctor. He should have had one last year, but I didn’t come home and I didn’t remind him. If I hadn’t broken up with you, I would have been here to remind him to go.” Tears shone in her eyes and on her cheeks.

JJ gave her a quizzical look, deciphering what she was saying. “I seem to recall being the one who left. But really none of this is anyone’s fault,” he kept his voice even, wanting nothing more than to hug her, to wipe away all the tears, and make sure she never had to shed another one again.

“I know, I know, it’s ridiculous, but it’s what keeps running through my head.” She reached up and readjusted the messy bun that her hair was falling out of. “But, for the record, I asked you to leave.” JJ raised an eyebrow as she said this, as though he didn’t believe her. The truth was, neither of them really remembered who had dumped who or why he had left in the first place. Nothing happened that they couldn’t work out with a little bit of effort. “Didn’t I?” she faltered.

He shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

“We just fought a lot, didn’t we?”

“Constantly. You were a bitch.”

She turned to him, mouth open. She slapped at his shoulder, “I know you did not just call me a bitch, bitch!”

He smirked at her. “Maybe you weren’t that bad. Apparently, I was a slob.”

“You are a slob,” she chuckled. Then she sighed and moved to heat up her tea. “But that’s no reason to dump someone. We just… fell out of love, I guess.”

“I didn’t.” His voice was so soft he was barely even sure he had spoken. Based on the way Kiara froze, her back tense, he’d definitely said those private thoughts aloud.

She turned slowly, her face pale with lack of sleep and - something else. Was that anger? Or sadness? “You’ve had more than a year to confess something like that to me, and you choose now?”

JJ shrugged helplessly, unsure of what to say.

“That was the issue all along, wasn’t it?” Kiara’s voice shook, but she kept her tone cool, even. “You wouldn’t communicate with me.”

“Oh, come on, Kie, that’s not fair.” It was too late for a fight. They were both tired and emotional. This wouldn’t end well.

“What’s not fair?” Her voice had started to rise in volume and pitch as her anger increased. She wasn’t even sure why she was angry in the first place, but something about JJ’s confession caused her blood to boil. “The fact that you didn’t admit you still loved me when you left over a year ago? Or the fact that you choose to admit that to me while I’m exhausted and emotionally compromised?”

“Don’t be like that! That’s not what I’m doing.” JJ tried to keep his voice lower than hers, so they wouldn’t wake Mike or Anna, but the way her eyes flashed told him that wouldn’t happen. He grabbed her bicep and led her out to the backyard.

“Let go of me!” She pulled away from him, trying to hide the shiver that ran up her spine in the cool November evening air. “You don’t get to manhandle me and manipulate me into falling back into your arms like nothing happened.”

“That’s not-“ JJ ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. “You know I’m shit at communicating this stuff.”

“At saying ‘I love you?’ At being emotionally present? Listen, I know your dad was fucked up and he fucked you up, but you’re a grown-ass man now. You could have learned how to be there for me!”

“Don’t bring him into this!” They’d had this fight a million times before. The recurring theme of their demise being communication. Their fire had been sputtering under the faulty system they had in place long before they realized what their problems were - it was something neither of them wanted to admit. “Fuck it, Kie, even if I had wanted to get any better at communicating, you were no help. You held every single one of my mistakes over my head. There was no road to redemption for you.”

“No, no that’s not true. I tried to help you-“

“Only telling me what I did wrong wasn’t helpful.”

She opened her mouth and closed it again, stuttering in anger. “Well… if you still loved me so much, why did you leave?”

“Why stay when I knew you didn’t love me anymore?” JJ’s voice dropped and he avoided eye contact with her.

Her eyes grew wide in realization. “You know what? Fuck you! I loved you until the day you left. If I had known you weren’t coming back I would have fought harder to keep you with me, and if you’re too dense to see-” He cut her words off, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her roughly. She melted into him, a single tear squeezing itself from her eye. He tasted of a coconut flavored vape pod and nicotine and the sea. He was just as stupid and lovely as ever. It only lasted a moment before she shoved at his chest, clearing her throat and turning from him to hide the blush rising to her cheeks.

“I’m… I’m seeing someone,” she muttered by way of explanation.

“Oh.” JJ licked his lips, missing her more than he had before he kissed her. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know. Who is it? Why aren’t they here?” He hadn’t meant to add that last part, but he was curious. Who could she be seeing that wouldn’t support her during all of this? Who could she want to be with that wasn’t there, like he was?

“Um, her name’s Fern. I asked her not to come. I didn’t want her to meet my dad this way.” She started to walk toward the door, wrapping her arms around herself in the cold November evening air.

“Kie,” JJ called after her. She turned slightly, to catch his eye out of the corner of her own. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything… I fucked a lot of things up. And I’m sorry about your dad.”

She nodded. “Me too.” With everything, she added mentally, and he knew she had.

Kiara and JJ wordlessly promised each other that they wouldn't let their differences ruin the upcoming holidays. So Thanksgiving passed uneventfully. It was almost a normal Carrera family holiday, besides the fact that Anna and JJ did most of the cooking. Mike tried once or twice to wander into the kitchen, but he didn’t make it long before having to sit back down. Kiara made him comfortable on the couch and they watched what little football was playing. She was sure to commentate on each play alongside him. The four of them ate extreme amounts of food, and laughed and played games. “Tomorrow we go get our Christmas tree,” Mike announced at the end of the night. Kiara bit her lip and glanced at JJ. He shrugged half-heartedly.

“That’s right, baby,” Anna replied, looking meaningfully at the others.

And they did. They didn’t travel to the mountains, like other years, but they did go down to the local tree lot. Kiara made a big fuss about finding the fattest tree and over-scrutinized each one until she found the perfect Christmas tree, just like always. JJ had spent holidays with the Carrera’s before, but he had never been so intimately involved in all of their traditions. He thought Christmas might just become his favorite holiday at this rate.

The weeks leading to Christmas weren’t all smooth sailing. Just a few days after Thanksgiving Mike was confined almost exclusively to a hospital bed in the living room. A nurse moved in a few days after that. He slept fitfully if he slept at all, and most days, the pain (or the pain medication) kept him from interacting with the rest of them. Kie would read to him in the evenings, starting with A Christmas Carol. He fell asleep after only a few paragraphs each time, so it took a long while to get through the story. All four of them watched classic Christmas movie after classic Christmas movie - many of which JJ hadn’t ever seen (to which Anna always replied, “That’s going on our list, then!”). Mike managed to stay awake for the entirety of Elf, his favorite.

Christmas day was quiet. JJ cooked breakfast for everyone, and Anna gushed about how good his cooking had gotten. They had opted not to exchange gifts this holiday, instead filling their stockings with all their favorite candies and snacks. It had been JJ’s idea, and Kiara thought he might have been a secret genius for suggesting it. In the afternoon, Fern called Kie and they talked for over an hour. JJ thought she looked satisfied when she returned, but nowhere near as happy as one should be when they got off a long conversation with their girlfriend. It was probably just the current circumstances. She didn’t say anything other than, “What’s the next movie, Dad?”

Mike died two days after Christmas. He went in his sleep, which was exactly what he had wanted. No fuss, no doctors trying desperately to save him. Just a good night’s sleep where he peacefully breathed his last. He didn’t look the same as he once had. Cancer had changed him so drastically, his once strong imposing frame a mere shadow of its former glory. But his face was smoothed out, lines of pain, grief, and illness wiped away, leaving simply peace. He could have been asleep, but now he would never wake up. Looking at him, Kiara felt like she was drowning. Like every breath she fought to take just filled her lungs with more and more water. Her dad was her rock, and now she was sinking in a wide, dark ocean. She thought she might never breathe again.

The funeral was tiny - it was only close family that attended - three days after he passed. The sky was clear and blue and the air was cold, typical North Carolina winter. It had snowed the day before, just a bit, so the ground was frozen and white. It could have been beautiful if it wasn’t so heartbreaking. Anna didn’t cry that day. She said she had cried enough. The snow started falling again that evening, once they got home, and she said that was Mike’s way of telling her he loved her. She loved the snow.

JJ went back home the day after the New Year. Anna told him to stay as long as he wanted, but he said it was time for him to move on. She understood, hugged him tightly before he went, admonishing him to come around often. He said he would, and promised to help with anything she needed around the house, too. Kiara sat huddled on the front porch in a rocking chair, wrapped in a thick blanket with a cup of hot cocoa as he walked out. “You’re not going to say goodbye?” he teased kindly.

She looked up at him, her eyes still bloodshot and sorrowful. He wanted to hold her. He wished she had never had to go through any of this. She didn’t deserve it. “I don’t know what to say,” she said. “You’ve done so much for us.”

JJ shook his head. “It was selfish. I thought if I was nearby maybe it wouldn’t happen.”

“It was anything but selfish,” She insisted, standing up and wrapping the blanket tighter around her shoulders. She placed a cold hand on his cheek. “Really, J. We couldn’t have made it through any of this without you.”

JJ might have leaned too deeply into her touch, no matter how cold her hands were. It somehow felt colder when she moved away. He cleared his throat. “So what’re your plans now? Getting back on the road?”

“Not until spring. Mom won’t admit it, but she’s not ready to be alone. She��ll need some help coping. And honestly, I’m not itching to leave.”

“I thought you’d wanna skip out as soon as possible. Doesn’t Fern miss you?”

She squinted her eyes but didn’t say anything in response. “I’ll miss having you around, Maybank.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll still be around. I think your mom will institute Sunday dinners or some shit if I don’t come over regularly.”

Kie chuckled. “She really loves you. Dad does - did, too.” Her voice broke slightly.

“I love them, too,” JJ said, honestly. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before picking up his bags and leaving. Kiara caught her breath as his lips brushed her skin, warmth spreading from where he made contact. Her wide eyes stayed glued to his figure as he loaded up his truck and drove away.

If normal could be achieved after a year like the Carrera women had experienced, they worked their hardest to achieve it. Anna threw herself into caring for the Wreck and it had the best off-season it had had in years. Kiara wrote songs and worked alongside her mother and even took some online classes. Anna did indeed institute Sunday dinners with JJ and he came to as many of them as he could. Life was slow to move forward, but Kie and Anna kept each other afloat, reminding themselves that Mike wouldn’t have wanted them to sit still crying over him. Step by step they picked up the pieces of their lives.

Things went along this way for a couple months or so. The world was calming down, but not fully quiet yet - when was the world ever quiet? Kiara never thought she could enjoy the quiet slow life that was the Outer Banks during the off-season, but after the year she’d had, she wanted nothing more than simple domesticity. She said as much during one of their Sunday dinners, enticing a knowing smile from her mother and a surprising lack of eye contact from JJ. She cornered him on the back deck when he’d stepped out to smoke. She was grateful they had regained some of the ease their friendship had carried when they were younger. “Okay, what was that all about?”

He chewed on his lip, twisting his cigarette between his fingers. He’d given up weed a while back when they were traveling, out of necessity, but she was secretly glad he’d never taken it up again. “I’m leaving,” he said abruptly.

“Leaving? Going where?”

“Not sure yet. My cousin’s gonna watch the shop for me. Travel the states for a bit until it’s safer to leave the country. Then Mexico? Maybe.”

“When will you be back?”

He shrugged, “Don’t know. Not for a long time.”

“Why?” Her mouth had gone dry and her words had run out. JJ was a die-hard salt-lifer. He might pack up and leave occasionally, but the Outer Banks was home, where he belonged. She thought that no matter where he went, he’d always end up back here. Home. How could he leave now?

He turned to look at her, urgency and honesty shining in his eyes. “I know he was your dad, and I probably don’t have the right to feel this way, but I…”

“You lost him, too,” she said, understanding.

“Need a change of scenery.” He shrugged again, putting out his cigarette before walking back inside.

Kiara understood better than most the need to keep moving, the change of scenery a welcome distraction. Traveling alone left a lot of time to think and soul-search. She didn’t peg JJ as the soul-searching type, but grief changed people; he needed time. She could support him in that.

“You’re going with him, right?” Anna asked sternly as she and her daughter washed dishes that evening. JJ had just left.

“What?” Kiara nearly dropped the plate she was drying.

“JJ told me all about his plans. Getting out of here for a while will be good for him!” She waved a hand over her shoulder, dismissing Kiara’s shocked expression. “He talks to me, too, you know? Always has.”

Kiara chuckled lightly, “So even though he and I broke up, he never broke up with y’all?”

“You shouldn’t have broken up with him.”

Kiara’s heart stopped for a moment, as she processed what her mother had said. “What do you mean?” She started slowly. “I thought you didn’t approve of me dating someone from the Cut.”

Anna sighed, setting down a half-washed pan. She turned to her daughter. “Your dad and I always wanted what was best for you. We thought that meant college, a solid career, marrying up. But we realized recently that that is never what life’s about.” She reached out and took Kiara’s hands, tears starting to shine in her eyes. “Your dad was from the Cut. When we first got married, we had nothing except each other but being with him was the best decision I ever made. He made me happy. I think I made him happy, too.”

“You definitely made him happy, Mom. But JJ and I fought all the time, we couldn’t sort things out.”

Anna scoffed, “Your dad and I fought, too. Fights happen, but you have to realize you’re not fighting each other, you’re a team fighting the problem. Once you figure that out, you can work through anything.”

Kiara shook her head, but she had a soft smile on her lips. “Mom, I just don’t know.”

Anna smiled, tearfully. “That is what life’s about. Nobody knows! What really matters is who is there to walk with you in the unknown. Who is there for you when you need them? Through the good and the bad. Your dad was that person for me.” She paused and looked at Kiara meaningfully, “So I’ll ask again: are you going with him?”

She shouldn’t, but while considering all of this somehow she felt freer. Her father had just died, she should still be mourning him, and yet she knew that he wouldn’t want her to wallow - she had to pick herself up. You knew this was coming, she heard his voice in her head. She hoped she would never forget what that voice sounded like. You knew I was going. Now that I’m gone, you’re free to live your life again. Live it, Kiara.

JJ finished buying his ticket for the ferry. It was cold out, more snow on its way. He had some time to kill before loading up his truck, but not much. He double-checked the straps on his luggage in the bed of the truck and was just beginning to contemplate how to pass the time when he heard his name being called. He turned to see Kiara running toward him, backpack bouncing wildly on her back. She was all flushed cheeks and shining eyes and curls tumbling around her shoulders.

“I broke up with Fern,” her words came out in a rush as she drew near him before he could even greet her. “I broke up with her months ago.”

“O-okay,” JJ replied, heart pounding. A million thoughts ran through his mind. He had just seen Kiara, why hadn’t she mentioned it then? Or before then? Why had she come all the way here to tell him that?

“And I’m coming with you,” she continued.

“What?” JJ wasn’t one to be lost for words, but he couldn’t say anything else.

“You make me happy. When the world went to shit you were the one person I wanted to know was safe. You were there for me and my whole family in the darkest few months of our lives and you really cared about us. I don’t care that we fought or that we will fight because being with you makes me happier than I ever thought possible.”

If she was going to say anything else, her words were swallowed up when he kissed her, hands cupping her cold cheeks. “I love you,” he said when she pulled back to breathe. “I never stopped. I didn’t know how to fight for you, how to stay, but I’ll do better. I can be better.”

She pressed another kiss to his lips. “Shut up, we’ll figure it out. We can do it right this time.”

Sometimes things die. It’s a sad cycle. The brightest fires turn cold and gray. But with time, new sparks can settle in that bed of ash. With care a new fire can start, burning brighter than before. So, even though things sometimes die, sometimes those dead things lead to an even more beautiful beginning.

#obx #outer banks #jiara #jj x kiara #angst #tw: current events #set in 2020 #jj maybank #kiara carrera #tw: minor character death #big sad #fics with liv #tw: cancer

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madpanda75 · 4 years

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“Taking Chances Part 8: A Case of the Ex”

Oh Sonny, what are we going to do with you? Actually I can certainly think of one or two things 😜 Anyways, welcome to Part 8 where we find out how the reader reacts when Sonny brought over his “mystery guest” to dinner 👀

Thanks for all the love with this series! You guys are amazing ❤️

This couldn’t be happening. This was a dream. Yes, a dream. You were simply having a nightmare. It was an illusion. A succession of images that usually occur involuntarily in the mind during certain stages of sleep. Any moment now you would wake up with Rafael’s limbs entangled around you like overgrown vines, heating your body. You swore that man was a walking furnace. From under the table you discreetly pinched your arm, wincing slightly when you felt the sharp pain from where your nails dug into your skin. Oh no. That proved it. This was real.

When you announced to your family that the engagement with Theo was off, you happened to leave out several important details such as coming home from work early one day to find him in bed with the flighty twenty-one year old who delivered your dry cleaning. Only your sisters knew the truth and you practically made them swear a blood oath that they wouldn’t tell a soul.

It’s not that you were a particularly private person. Being raised in the Carisi household, everyone was in each other’s business. But with Theo, it was different. He was your next door neighbor. You grew up together. You were the Mary to his Joseph in the Nativity play in the third grade. Your mom and his mom taught Catechism together. Breaking off your engagement left you heartbroken and you didn’t want to burden your family with the details. Your dad was recovering from a heart attack. Your mom had her hands full between caring for your father and worrying about her children. And then there was Sonny.

Working with SVU over the years, you noticed a change in him. He was more quiet and cautious, even becoming a borderline realist—a stark contrast from the goofy, loveable, optimistic, older brother. You saw how Mike Dodd’s death affected him, even though Sonny tried to hide it from you. Then a year later during a night out at the bar, he drunkenly confessed that a perp by the name of Tom Cole had held him at gunpoint while he was trying to save a victim. You saw how his body trembled in fear, the tears in his eyes. Although you begged him to get therapy, he shrugged off your suggestion and told you to drop it. You never spoke of it again. The last thing you wanted to do was give him one more thing to worry about. Your life and all its troubles seemed to pale in comparison to the nightmare he had lived through.

Rafael glanced between you and the man who resembled an Italian Vogue model standing next to Sonny. “Is that who I think it is?” he mumbled. The tiniest nod of your head confirmed his suspicions.

So this was the infamous ex-fiancé. Theo was the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome: chocolate brown eyes, thick shiny mane, and a dazzling smile which Rafael could’ve sworn were caps. Not to mention, he was in your age bracket.

Rafael slumped down in his seat a bit, feeling self conscious. He had always thought he was a decent looking guy. Walking down the courthouse halls with his swagger and sharp suits, he noticed several women and men eyeing him. But compared to Theo, Rafael felt like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Gina narrowed her eyes. “What is he doin’ here?”

“Yeah,” Bella added. “Shouldn’t he be out getting his dry cleaning?”

“Girls,” Julia scolded although she was just as surprised to see your ex in her dining room.

The last time Theo visited your parents was about two years ago when you both were making a seating chart for your wedding. Then one Sunday you came to the house alone with your eyes red-rimmed and puffy, announcing the engagement was off. You had claimed the reason was because Theo was moving too fast and that you weren’t ready to settle down just yet. But something told Julia Carisi that there was more to the story than what you were letting on, call it a mother’s intuition. Regardless of your mysterious breakup, your mother was not about to be rude to her new guest. She could give Emily Post a lesson in being a good hostess. Getting up from the table, she smiled and pulled Theo into a hug. “Theo, sweetheart. It’s so nice to see you. How’re your parents?”

“Great to see you too, Julia. The folks are fine. I hope it’s ok I’m here.”

“Absolutely. We have plenty of food.” Julia turned towards her husband. “Dom, can you get another chair?” Your father didn’t respond, still in shock over the sudden reappearance of your ex. “Dom!” She clapped her hands to get her husband’s attention.

“Huh,” Dom said, snapping out of his trance. “Oh sure.”

As your father left to get a chair, Sonny smiled and patted Theo on the back. “Let me grab ya’ a plate and some silverware.”

While your parents and brother were busy making your guest comfortable, Theo caught your eye and immediately made a beeline towards you. “Hey stranger.” Before you could even react, he wrapped his arms around you, his one hand pressed into the small of your back. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, his lips grazing your ear. You stood there frozen with your arms at your sides. It took all your strength to quell the wave of nausea rising in your stomach.

In Rafael’s opinion, the hug lasted much longer than what society would deem to be acceptable. His fists slightly trembled. He could feel himself quickly transforming into the ugly green monster within. “Hi,” he said, a little too loudly. “I’m Rafael. Y/N’s boyfriend.”

Finally letting you go, Theo turned towards Rafael and laughed before focusing his attention back on you. “He’s kidding, right?”

You immediately reached for Rafael, finding comfort in his presence by your side. “Actually he’s quite serious. Do you find that amusing?”

Upon learning that you and Rafael were together, Theo’s lips curved into a smirk that left you feeling uneasy. “Well then, I suppose congratulations are in order,” he replied and extended his hand to Rafael. “You’re a lucky man. There’s nobody like Y/N.” He glanced your way with a glint in his eye. “Nobody.”

Dom and Sonny came out of the kitchen with an extra chair and a place setting. “Here ya’ go, pal,” Sonny said. Theo took the chair and placed it right next to yours, reaching across you to grab some of your mother’s lasagna.

He took a bite and moaned. “This is delicious, Julia. I’ve sure missed your cooking.” His foot slyly nudged yours under the table causing you to scooch your chair away.

Being smushed in between your boyfriend and your ex-fiance was some sort of cruel torture. You were seconds away from lunging across the table and punching your brother, but instead you stood up. “Sonny, I need your help getting some wine from the kitchen.”

“Now? But we have wine here.” Sonny motioned to the Amarone on the table.

“Yes, but there’s a nice Chianti in the kitchen and it’s on a shelf that I can’t reach.” You crossed your arms and gave your brother a threatening glare. “Now or I’ll eat your liver with some fava beans. I hear it pairs nicely with a Chianti.” Sonny sighed and followed you into the kitchen.

You gripped the edge of the sink and silently counted to 10 in order to calm yourself before addressing your brother.

“So where’s the Chianti or did ya’ just bring me in here to watch ya’ breath,” Sonny remarked.

You whipped your head around and narrowed your eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Sonny innocently shrugged. “Havin’ lunch with my family.”

“Don’t be cute.” You tugged on your mom’s yellow kitchen gloves and began to furiously scour a greasy pan with a brillo pad, finding some sense of clarity in your angry cleaning. “I can’t believe you invited Theo. How dare you!”

“What’s wrong with that? Theo hasn’t been here in ages.”

“Yes and there’s a reason for it. We broke up or maybe you haven’t gotten that through your thick skull yet.”

Sonny pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand ya’, Y/N. First ya’ break off the engagement with Theo cause he’s movin’ way too fast even though you two grew up 6 feet away from each other for 18 years. But one month with Rafael and you’re ready for a colonial, 2.5 kids, and a collie?”

“My personal life is none of your business,” you growled.

Sonny scoffed. “Well actually it is my business since you are fuckin’ someone I work with.”

You dropped the dish you were cleaning with a violent clang, water splashing everywhere and took a few steps toward your brother. “Choose your next words wisely, Dominick Carisi, Jr.”

Sonny shook his head, his appearance akin to disappointment. It was hard for him to separate the woman you had become with the little girl you once were. If he closed his eyes, he could picture you with your skinned knees and unruly hair coming out of your french braid, demanding piggyback rides from him. And even though that little girl was gone, you were still so young and naive about this world. There was so much you needed to learn.

“What happened to us, Y/N. I mean we used to be so close. I’m your big brother and I’m tryin’ to look out for ya’.” He tentatively put his hand on your shoulders, tilting his head lower to meet your gaze. “I’m doin’ this because I love ya’ and I want what’s best for ya’. I’ve worked with Barba for years. I know him and he’s not a good fit for ya’. You’re going to regret this.”

You fought back the sting of tears and tucked in your quivering bottom lip. You refused to cry in front of Sonny. Although you hated to admit it, his opinion mattered to you. It broke your heart that he didn’t approve of you and Rafael.

Just then the kitchen door swung opened, revealing your boyfriend’s handsome head poking in. “Everything ok in here?” He stepped into the kitchen. “Cause Gina is asking me when we’re gonna make her an aunt and that led to one of your nieces asking where babies come from and your mom is trying to eavesdrop on you both with a glass held up to the wall.”

“Why don’t ya’ mind your own business, Barba,” Sonny sneered. “I’m talkin’ to my sister.”

“Not anymore. We’re leaving.” You rushed past him and ran back out into the dining room, meeting the shocked faces of your family.

“Everything ok?” Julia asked. The shortness of breath in her voice indicated that she had just ran to her seat from her position near the wall.

“I’m sorry. We have to go,” you mumbled and made a mad dash to the foyer to grab yours and Rafael’s coats.

Your parents exchanged a worried glance and immediately followed you. “Honey, are you sure? What about dessert? I made your favorite cheesecake. Please stay,” Julia pleaded

Your dad leaned forward and spoke softly, “Ya’ know if you’re upset about Sonny bringing that pretty boy punk over for lunch I can kick him out. For that matter, I can kick Rafael out too. Anything for my little patatina.” He grinned and booped you on the nose.

You faked a smile for your father. “That won’t be necessary, Pops.”

Julia smoothed down your hair. “Then sweetheart what’s wrong?”

The words were right there at the tip of your tongue. You wanted more than anything to confess everything then march over to Theo and crush his balls into powder. But one look at your family told you now was not the time, not when you were surrounded by your adorable albeit nosy nieces and nephews and your sisters who thought of family drama as a national sport.

So instead you hemmed and hawed, stammering over your words as you tried to think of a plausible reason for your sudden departure when Rafael spoke up behind you. “Actually it’s my fault,” he lied and wound his arm around you. “I’m so sorry. I got a call from work and I need to run over to the office for a few hours.”

Sonny followed Rafael into the foyer and arched a brow in suspicion, not falling for his excuse. “That’s funny. I never got a call from Liv about a case or anything.”

Rafael turned towards the detective and narrowed his eyes. “Oh don’t worry. I’ll be filling you in on the details later.”

“Well, let me pack up some food for you both. It’s the least I can do.” Julia gently cupped your face and patted Rafael on her way to the kitchen in search of tupperware but you stopped her.

“Some other time, Ma. We really have to go.” You kissed her and your dad and waved goodbye to the rest of your family.

“Thank you for a wonderful meal. It was nice to—” Rafael was unable to finish his farewell as you dragged him out the door.

“What the hell was that all about?” your dad asked Sonny once you had left.

Sonny ignored him and pushed past his parents to run out after you. “Y/N! Wait!”

You stopped in your tracks and turned towards your brother, slapping him hard across the face. Your entire body shook with rage, tears streamed down your cheeks. You felt completely and utterly betrayed by the one person you had relied on your entire life. “Stay out of my life,” you said in a shaky voice before getting in the car with Rafael and driving away.

You only made it one block when you had to pull over, your tears blinding your vision. Slumping over the steering wheel, your forehead connected with the horn causing the most pathetic little beep as you cried even harder. This was not how you intended the day to go. Rafael rubbed your back in soothing circles. “Shhh, it’ll be ok, hermosa. Everything’s going to work out,” he cooed.

“No it won’t,” you wailed and banged your head against the steering wheel several more times.

Rafael winced and tried to pull you away from the beeping horn, not wanting to create yet another scene. “Babe, stop. I don’t want someone from Neighborhood Watch to come out.”

You sat up and sniffled. “I’m so sorry about Theo and lunch.”

“I’ve experienced much worse during lunch. Trust me.” He handed you his handkerchief and ran his fingers through your hair. “Do you want me to drive?”

You loudly blew your nose and hiccupped. “Sure. Can you drive?”

“Of course I can drive. Now let’s trade.” Unbuckling your seatbelt, you got out of the car and swapped places. “Can I drive?” he mumbled, chuckling to himself. Of course he failed to mention that he only learned to drive a few years ago, never really seeing a need for it when he lived in Manhattan, one of the highest rated cities for public transportation. Once you were comfortable, he turned on the ignition and sped down the street, making his way back to the city.

*****

Sonny stood there, stunned, listening to the sound of your car screeching down the street. A laugh coming from the porch signaled his attention. “Ladies and gentlemen of Sycamore Avenue, behold the man who was just bitch slapped by his baby sister!” Bella announced.

Sonny rolled his eyes. “What are ya’ doin’ out here?”

“Ma wanted me to check on ya’.” She sat down on the front step and patted the spot next to her at which he begrudgingly obliged her request. She leaned forward and inspected the right side of his face. “Huh, interesting. I can make out a thumb print.”

“Stop it.” He crossed his arms and scooted away, trying to cover the one side of his face.

Bella shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re an amazing big brother and I’m grateful for all you’ve done, especially with Tommy. But when are ya’ gonna realize Y/N’s not a little girl anymore. She is the most level-headed out of all of us that includes you,” she said with a smirk and playfully nudged him. “She knows what she’s doing and Rafael is an incredible guy. Ya’ have to be deaf, dumb, and blind to not see that he adores her.”

“I just want what’s best for her and that’s not Rafael. You of all people should understand. Ya’ caught a glimpse of the world that Rafael and I live in during Tommy’s trial. I don’t want that for her. I don’t want that for any of ya.” Sonny sighed and rested his elbows on his knees, slouching as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders

“Hey,” Bella softly said, flicking her brother’s ear to get his attention. “I know your job is tough. I mean I can’t imagine the things you face everyday but ya’ gotta stop this. You have to stop living for this job, it’s gonna eat you alive. We’re all worried about ya.”

Sonny scoffed. “I’m fine.”

“Oh yeah? Then tell me when was the last time ya’ went out on a date or ya’ didn’t wake up from a nightmare or ya’ took a vacation. Think about it.” She patted his knee and stood up to leave before turning back one last time. “Just don’t push people out of your life cause otherwise you’ll end up alone.”

Bella had hit the nose right on the head. He hated when she was right. Between law school and work, he hadn’t been living. When he wasn’t working, he was studying or taking a class or screaming in his sleep after having yet another nightmare of Tom Cole holding a gun to his forehead. In truth, there was someone who had caught his eye. Someone he had wanted to ask out from the moment he saw her and yet whenever he made an attempt, something stopped him.

Why couldn’t he just let everything go? Why couldn’t he live anymore? Sonny felt as if he was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to topple over the edge, about to leave everything and everyone he held near and dear to his heart. Sitting there on the porch, he shivered a bit in the early spring air, unsure what felt worse, the sting of your hand across his face or the words you last spoke to him.

@glimmerglittergirl @southern-magnolia @sweetcannolicarisi @delia26 @obfuscateyummy @sass-and-suspenders @eclecticminded @thatesqcrush @katmstanton @amirightcounsellor @beltzboys2015-blog @letty-o @sonnysdoll @lyssa1385 @sweetsummertime99 @burningsorr0ws @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @babypink224221 @livxrafa @esparza-army @obsessionprofessional @ottosuricato @melsquared79 @dreila03 @frenchiefoxy @tropes-and-tales @thecraziestcrayon @goodluckfindingone @scarlettsoldier @youreverycolor @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii @imagine-all-the-imagines @imjustreallynosy @graniairish @ashley-chi @lolacolaempath @cocomel0613 @mysterioustrashadventures @that-girl-named-alex @scapricciatello @mrsrafaelbarba @zizzlekwum @katierpblogg

#rafael barba #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba fic #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba fan fiction #barba #barba imagine #barba fanfic #barba x reader #sonny carisi #law and order svu fic #law and order svu imagine #taking chances

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 4 years

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S.T. REWRITE - S2:E8; Chapter Eight, The Mind Flayer - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

An unlikely hero steps forward when a deadly development puts the Hawkins Lab on lockdown, trapping Will and several others inside.

||3rd Person POV||

The once pristine and orderly lab had become a desolate wasteland in a matter of minutes. Blood painted the walls and bodies were scattered among the labyrinth of halls. Buckled down in the heart of Hawkins Lab, Owens scatters a map, pen in hand. The others quickly close in around him as he draws out their escape plan.

"Look, this is us," he circles a corner on the map. "and this is the nearest exit. But even if we somehow make it there, there's no way out."

Hopper's brow furrows, his grip on the flashlight grows subconsciously tighter. "What do you mean?"

"The locks are fail-secure."

"Fail secure?" Joyce asks.

"If there's a power outage," Owens says, looking around at the confused faces. "the building goes on lockdown."

"Can it be unlocked remotely?" Bob asks.

"With a computer, sure, but somebody's gotta reset the breakers."

Hopper inches closer, growing ever restless. "Where are the breakers?"

"Breakers are in the basement," Owens returns to the map. "three floors down."

Not wasting another moment, Hopper spins on his heel and stomps for the door.

"Hey, where are you going?" Bob calls after him.

Hopper gives him an incredulous look. "To reset the breakers."

Bob scoffs worriedly. "Okay, then what?"

"Then we get out of here."

"No, then the power comes back on. If you wanna unlock the doors you have to reboot the computer system, and then override the security codes with a manual input."

"Fine," Hopper sighs. "How do I do that?"

It's Bob's turn to look incredulous. "You can't. Not unless you know BASIC."

"I don't know what that means," Hopper asks shortly, growing increasingly stressed.

"It's a computer programming language," Mike replies, jumping in.

"Teach it to me,"

Bob scoffed shortly, dawning an uncharacteristic mocking tone. "Shall I teach you French, while I'm at it, Jim? How about a little German?"

Everyone listens, taken aback at his unusual behavior and the man turns to Owens.

"How about you, doc?" He asks, growing urgent. "You speak BASIC?"

Sheepishly, he shakes his head, suddenly finding the floor particularly interesting. "No."

Dreading the answer, Bob reluctantly accepts and scoffs nervously, nodding his head.

"Okay, I got this," he mutters nervously, turning to Hopper repeating the words more assured. "I've got this."

"No," Joyce's voice cracks, and she envelops Bob in a worried hug. "Bob."

"It's okay," Bob gratefully accepts the tender hug before looking into her eyes. "It's gonna be okay. Remember, Bob Newby, superhero."

||Reader's POV||

We carry on over another small hill through the trees and the pads of my feet, ironically enough, feel as if they are on fire. I keep glancing at my shoes for any sign of distress even though I know it's because I've been walking all day. And truthfully, I'm unsure how much more walking I can take.

I let out my umpteenth sigh, keeping my eyes trained on where Steve is stepping to avoid tripping on any more roots. Another side effect of walking all day, my reflexes have dulled considerably.

"How much longer?" I ask.

Steve huffs, using the bat to swipe away some low hanging branches in our path. "Jesus, if one more of you shits ask me that again,"

"Sorry, you're majesty!" I groan sarcastically, throwing my head back briefly in frustration no doubt earning a few surprised glances.

I'm able to see the clouds of branches above us sway in the wind, parting ever so to reveal the inky night sky and I calm significantly. My anger dissolves a bit, enough to feel a small pang of guilt for snapping at Steve. Especially since he was helping Dustin, and all of us, actually.

I look back down at the forest floor, a tad embarrassed.

"Sorry, really," I mumble, and I catch Steve's hardened glare soften a bit over his shoulder. "It's just,"

I pause, glancing back at the night sky once more, and I feel another soft gust of wind snake through the trees and hit my face and I feel soothed. The stars always had a way of calming me. It awes me, something about the vastness of it all, and just how complex and simple it all was, all at once.

Reassured, I continue. "My feet are killing, and the junkyard took a lot out of me. You've been super helpful, so it's not fair to you to-"

"Shut up," He hisses, suddenly.

"What?"

"I said, shut up," he repeats, voice lowered and eyes focused ahead.

I look to the others, Max merely shrugs with an odd look, Lucas readies the wrist rocket and Dustin seems to be the only one the honed in on the situation.

I fall silent, my ears straining and I'm able to make out a familiar voice over the rustling of the trees as Steve pulls away at more branches.

"Who's there?" It calls. "Who's there?!"

Steve is the first to break through the woods and we all pool out at his side. One of the first things I notice is a security booth and a familiar car parked beside. It takes me a moment to identify the two figures across the clearing, but the moment it registers, they speak, confirming my suspicions.

"Steve?" They ask in perfect unison.

"Nancy?" Steve asks.

Nancy and Jonathan stand across the small stretch of grass, and I can't help a confused smile.

"Jonathan?" I break out into a brisk walk, ignoring my aching feet and the duo makes their way towards us. "Nancy!"

"Y/n?"

"It's so good to see you!" I give Jonathan a quick side hug, relieved to see the familiar face of a Byers. "What are you guys doing here?"

I pull back, smiling at them both but it quickly deflates when I think of Will. I look to Jonathan worriedly.

"How's Will?"

I can hear the others making their way towards us, but I'm more focused on the unusual behavior. He begins shifting on his feet, his previous look of confusion towards me and my unfamiliar garb melted away into that of concern.

"We're looking for him, and Mike." He gestures to Nancy and glances at Dustin and Lucas. "Wait, they aren't with you guys?"

None of us have time to answer before a string of hideous screeching echoes out from the lab.

An all too familiar pit burrows in my stomach, I can feel it taking root at the new information. Will couldn't go missing again, he just couldn't. But if the Upside Down was involved, which I know for a fact it is, then it can't be good.

||3rd Person POV||

A golden yellow beam of light bounces down the stairwell in tune with Bob's ragged breathing and the squeak of his shoes against the polished stairs. His heart is racing wildly, and never once did he imagine he would ever find himself racing through Hawkins Lab, gun in hand, to escape an infestation of interdimensional monsters. Heck, he couldn't he even picture himself with a gun! Good thing Jim was able to give him at least somewhat of breakdown on how to use one, and for now that would have to do.

But he reminds himself of the danger, the danger Joyce and the others as well as himself. He reaches the basement and almost instantly he is enveloped in a blanket of steam from the heaters, and the poor lighting gives off the illusion he has been swallowed by a thick layer of smog. It does nothing to ease the sweat percolating on his skin no more than the distant beeps of the alarm echo in his mind serving as a harsh reminder.

He stalks carefully through the mist, checking his corners to the best of his ability for his first time and he can feel every nerve stand on edge. It's only proven by the shaky beam of light streaming through his flashlight.

A harsh and sudden hiss goes off above his head and he nearly jumps out of his skin. The gun and light come to aim shakily at the source of the noise and he feels the wave of relief crash over him as he sees it's merely a pipe, clouds of steam pooling from a small valve.

He takes a long deep breath, his aim returning to his path.

"Keep it together, Bob." He mumbles.

It's not much longer before he finds himself at the breaker room, and he is relieved when he hears the click of the door as it swings open unlocked. But it vanishes almost as soon and he jumps when his flashlight finds the bloodied remains of two bodies on the floor.

Bob does his best to collect his gasps, but he finds it a difficult ordeal. His grip on his flashlight, and his gun, tighten and he is sure to shut the door behind him before stepping further into the room. It's quiet and unnaturally still apart from the blood pumping in his ears, it only grows worse as he navigates around the fallen men. Finally, he turns the corner finding at long last what he had risked his life for. The breakers.

Labeled on a plastic tag, the words, MAIN POWER caught his eye and he knew for sure he was in the right place.

"Okay, here we go,"

Taking a deep breath, he flips the first switch and he is suddenly bathed in light. It's not long before it spreads throughout the entire lab. With every lever he pulls, the lab steadily comes to life, including the surveillance room.

The others perk up when the florescence flicker on above their heads. Mike is the first to step up to the monitors as each screen comes to life. At its center, the breakers in the basement where Bob Newby stands.

||Reader's POV||

"What do you mean? Haven't you-?"

"I haven't seen him, or Mike since Friday!" I plea.

Everything was a mess, everyone had begun talking over each other in a big huddle and no one could get a clear word in edgewise. That is until Nancy broke free from the circle.

"The power's back!"

My eyes fall past the gate and treeline to see that she's right, the building had lit up completely.

I quickly fall in line with the others and it's as if a small race broke out for who could get to the security booth first. Jonathan did, and he wasted no time hitting the button. I could hear the rapid clicking from where I stood at the front of the car, and I quickly looked to the gate expectantly.

Nothing happens.

The clicking continues and we all watched confused and increasingly worried as it remains perfectly still.

Another screech echoes in the distance and I can feel my anxiety blossom from the pit in my stomach. I begin subconsciously bouncing on the balls of my heels and I look around at the others for any ideas.

"Guys...?"

I meet eyes with Dustin and he looks as if he's grown ever more impatient, and my anxious state is his final sign. He kicks into gear, heading for the booth.

"Let me try--"

"Hang on--" Jonathan tries.

He's cut off by Dustin who weakly shoves him back with a frustrated whine. "Let me try, Jonathan!"

I watch deflated as my brother does nothing but wear out the button, and I roll my eyes with a deep breath. I feel a pair of eyes on me, and I look to find Max glancing at me out of the corner of her eye, concerned. She looks away when she knows she's been caught. I look down at my hands and realize not only am I rocking back and forth on my heels but I'm also desperately wringing my hands.

I note the silence in the air, I look back at Dustin who watches the gate expectantly, an exasperated Jonathan standing behind him. The silence lasts not a moment longer before Dustin begins shouting.

"Well, son of a bitch! You know what..." he grumbles, returning to the button with even more fervor.

I try to calm myself the best of my ability, taking slow deep breaths but it only helps so much. My eyes return to the sight of the lab, and I can't help but fear what lies ahead.

+++

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haberdashing · 4 years

Text

Like Emptiness In Harmony

TMA AU of 160. When Jon wakes up after that statement, he finds that he’s changed just as the world around him has.

on AO3

Jon came back to himself... no, that wasn’t right; Jon’s self was far too nebulous a concept for that. How many weeks, months, years had passed since he’d truly been himself, free of influence by eldritch powers? Had he even truly been himself before he’d joined the Magnus Institute, or had he been controlled by the Web back then, too? Would he even recognize his true self, his human self, anymore? (Were his true self and his human self even the same thing these days?)

Jon came back to consciousness on the floor of the safehouse, with Martin standing over him, and for a brief second things seemed alright, seemed as normal as they ever were, before he saw the terror in Martin’s eyes and remembered what he’d read out loud before passing out and knew (lower-case) that something had gone terribly wrong.

The details were still fuzzy in Jon’s mind, though, and as Jon struggled to put the pieces together, to wake up more fully and figure out exactly what kind of trouble he was in this time, he was only able to say a single word.

“Martin.”

But... but it didn’t sound right, somehow. The word was clear enough, luckily, it wasn’t like he was trying to spit it out through a gagged mouth (which was a sensation Jon unfortunately knew all too well thanks to Nikola), but the tone was off. Jon was confused and curious and scared, but when he called out Martin’s name, none of that came through. Instead, his voice sounded... smug, smug and vaguely condescending, much closer to the sort of tone he would have used to dismiss Martin before Prentiss’ attack than the one he’d meant to adopt now.

“Jon?” Jon wasn’t sure how much of the uncertainty he heard in Martin’s voice just then was real and how much of it was just his mind projecting. Probably some of both there.

Jon cleared his throat and tried again.

“Martin.”

It came out the same as before--exactly the same as before, actually, his tone and enunciation both identical to when he’d said Martin’s name before, as much so as if he’d recorded it before and simply played it back again instead of actually speaking anew.

An analogy that, when Jon examined it more closely, seemed entirely too on the nose.

“My god.”

He said the words only partially because they were what he actually wanted to say; if Jon were free to speak his mind, his speech would probably be significantly less coherent right now, and filled with half-formed questions. But this would have to do at short notice, combining actual meaning with a way to test his current theory.

Sure enough, he was able to say those words just fine, just as he had... how long ago was it, now? Minutes, hours, an eternity ago? And with them came that same smug, self-congratulatory tone, one that almost made Jon want to punch himself in the face for sounding like that. But it wasn’t really himself that he wanted to punch in the face at the moment, just as it hadn’t been himself, exactly, who had first said those words. It was his voice, sure, but the words themselves, the mind behind them, were not his own.

Jon opened his mouth to say Fuck Jonah Magnus, but was far from surprised to find that the words refused to cross the gap between his mind and the world around him.

It was all starting to come together, now. It didn’t click, per se, just continued on the progression from lazy analogy to hunch to theory to something just shy of a dark certainty.

Why did nobody ever swear in the statements, goddammit?

Though that- that wasn’t quite true, was it, there were one or two instances in there where-

And then it clicked. Jon Knew, then, what he could and couldn’t say, the exact limits of his strange new vocabulary. (Or... not new, really. None of these words were new to him. Perhaps he would never say anything new again.)

“Jon, are you alright?”

Even Knowing what he could say didn’t mean controlling his speech was easy, though. It was a little like trying to conduct a conversation by flipping through a dictionary, having to find just the right word in its pages every time a new one was needed.

“No. No, of course not.” The words were right, or close enough at any rate, but the tone was all wrong, and it wasn’t even Jon’s own voice this time, the voice and words of a now-dead man leaving his lips instead.

Jon laughed, then, and that at least sounded normal enough... well, for a certain definition of normal, at any rate. It sounded sharp and cold and full of fear, without a hint of humor to be found, and that wasn’t normal for a laugh, no, but it was what Jon had intended at any rate, a sound that was still all his own.

“Jon, you’re, you’re scaring me a bit, something about your voice seems weird...” Oh, good, he noticed that much at least. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know... and it makes me very afraid.” At least it was his voice again, now, not that of... well. Jon wanted to call Mike Crew a killer, a monster, but those weren’t exactly distinguishing features, were they? Martin probably didn’t even recognize the voice that Jon had adopted a moment ago; it’s not as if he’d had the chance to chat up Mike before Daisy killed him.

“Right. Alright. Well then, er... is, is there anything I can do to help?”

Jon laughed, and this time there was humor to it, or at least levity, despite the world having gone wrong, despite his voice no longer being entirely his own, because no matter what Martin was still Martin, trying to help, putting Jon’s well-being above all else, even when the world was quite possibly falling to pieces around them.

“I am unsure if I will... be able to stand myself up again.” Between the words and the hand extended in Martin’s direction, Jon hoped that the instruction would be clear enough.

Evidently it was, as Martin took his hand, helping pull Jon off of the floor and back onto his feet. It took more effort than it should have, Jon thought, Martin grunting and breathing heavily by the end of it despite past jokes about how easy it was to pick Jon up, but it worked, though Martin’s whole body was shaking by the end of it. (Jon wasn’t sure whether said shaking was even entirely physical in nature, truth be told.)

Jon half-walked, half-stumbled his way forward.

“No, no, no--don’t, don’t go outside. It’s--it’s real bad.”

Outside had never been Jon’s destination, however, though Martin seemed to believe otherwise. Jon didn’t want to go outside, to experience the horrors that had now been unleashed upon the world outside their cabin. He simply wanted to... Jon had to suppress a bout of hysterical laughter as it occurred to him that he simply wanted to see what had happened, to watch the chaos unfold, and wasn’t that all too fitting...

The view outside the nearest window was enough to confirm all of Jon’s worst suspicions. The world had been torn apart, all the fears unleashed upon it to wreak havoc, all because of what he’d just read out loud (all because of him).

“My god.” It felt wrong, somehow, using the words of the man who had orchestrated this apocalypse to describe it, but Jon didn’t have much in the way of alternatives at his disposal.

“I don’t know if it’s just here, or-”

“No. No...” Between trying to put the world’s destruction into words and trying to translate what words he could come up with into something said in the statements, Jon struggled to speak, though it didn’t show in his voice when he did manage to string a few more words together. “...the populated world... edged with a strange, creeping fear... far, far away...”

“Is that Peter’s voice? Jon, don’t... just, please don’t.” Martin laughed briefly, though Jon could see that his eyes were filling with tears. “I, I think I’ve heard enough from him already, thanks.”

Jon nodded enthusiastically, went to apologize, realized that even a simple “I’m sorry” was beyond his reach now, settled for “I was an idiot.” instead.

“Don’t say that. You’re not an idiot for not thinking of it, it’s just...” Martin let out a long sigh. “Jon, I’m scared.”

“...fear can just become as routine as hunger... I felt every feeling... They overwhelmed me... my impact on the world... my failure...” Jon switched between different statements, different voices, desperate to find the words to explain what had happened, what the world had become and how it was all his own fault. The end result felt like almost as great a failure as what it was purporting to describe, but it was an attempt, at least. It would have to do.

Martin wrapped one arm around Jon’s shoulder; Jon briefly considered pushing it off because he was about the last person who deserved to be comforted now, when he was the one who had caused so much pain and suffering, but decided against it because that would hurt Martin’s feelings more than it would appease his own, and he couldn’t exactly explain his own thought process to Martin at the moment.

“You’re not a failure, Jon. No matter what this is, no matter what else happens, you’re not a failure.”

Jon laughed and shook his head and laughed some more, a laugh that kept threatening to turn into a sob as he looked out at the ruins of the world he had wrecked entirely.

“And with each act of glorious, hateful destruction, I felt my god’s love embrace me, consume me... ”

Jon pointed to the sky, to the giant eye that now engulfed it.

“It’s still there, still watching me.”

The laugh that kept threatening to turn into a sob finally did so after a long minute, and as it did the tears that had been building in Martin’s eyes began to flow, and the two men threw their arms around each other, holding one another for comfort as they cried over the loss of their world.

#tma #tma au #tma fic #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #the magnus archives au #the magnus archives fic #the magnus archives fanfic #personal #my writing

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holdthosebees · 4 years

Text

Memento Mori

A/N: Here we are again! Reposted w/out the horrifically embarrassing typo, which I’m sure y’all would have forgotten about if I hadn’t just mentioned it. Shoutout to @screechfoxes for reminding me! Anyway I’m still thinking about Mike Crew/Oliver Banks, and I will be until I die. Fic is rated M for mild, nonexplicit sexual content and canonical character death.

It’s storming on the day that Oliver meets Michael Crew, which feels appropriate enough. Later, Oliver jokes that, if Mike were more of a drama queen, he’d think he’d done it on purpose: the lashing rain, the heavy wind, the crack and roll of thunder shivering through the air. A summer storm, out of season. It’s driven away most of Oliver’s usual customers, the alternative kids and the middle aged hippies; he’s rearranging a display of cat-themed tarot cards for the fifth time for want of something better to do when the bell above the door rings.

The vertigo is immediate. Oliver raises his eyebrows as his stomach lurches; it had been a while since something impacted him like this. Ever since point Nemo, physical sensation has been... not numb, but dulled, certainly. Even the anxiety, once a constant companion, doesn’t leave him nauseous the way it used to. Then he registers the smell of ozone, and he sighs.

The man in the doorway is short and narrow, with a friendly, square face and sandy brown hair dripping rainwater onto his forehead. He’s dressed down for the weather, no raincoat or umbrella, and above the collar of his plain blue button-down Oliver can see a branching white scar.

“Good afternoon,” Oliver says, to be polite. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Oh, I’m just browsing,” the man says. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers, as if to indicate how uninterested he is in touching anything. “I’ll try not to drip on your stuff.”

“That’s very thoughtful,” Oliver says. Then, because he feels a little silly, playing retail associate with a fellow monster, “Sorry--you’re Michael Crew, right?”

“Guilty as charged,” Michael says, with a quirk of a smile. “But please, call me Mike. Who was it that told you about me? Simon? Jude?” He looks at Oliver’s expression, and laughs. “Figures it would be Jude. She’s such a gossip, that one.”

“I suppose,” Oliver says. His conversation with Jude hadn’t been long, but it had left an impression. He’d felt rather like she was trying to recruit him into some sort of alliance, and when he hadn’t been receptive, her demeanor had been... unpleasant. She’d mentioned Michael--Mike--as something of a casual acquaintance, and so he’d expected him to be somewhat like her: so full of gleeful malice that it oozed out the edges.

“Anyway. I figured I’d drop by, see the man who hijacked Harriet’s plans for Point Nemo.” Mike punctuates this with by giving Oliver a slow once-over, up and down. Oliver smiles reflexively. It’s hard to tell whether he’s being threatened or checked out; neither option is as daunting as it might have been, once, but if Mike is planning on starting something he’d rather they not do it in his shop.

“Oh,” Oliver says, “sorry about that. I wasn’t exactly thinking much, at the time.”

“Don’t worry about it. Sea water under the bridge.” Mike says, and smiles, taking a hand out of his pocket to wave the matter away. He has a nice smile, Oliver thinks. Not too wide, not the tooth-baring threat that most of the avatars he’d met seemed fond of. Nice. “To be honest, I don’t have much to do with what the Fairchild’s are up to, these days. I don’t really bother with the macro. Yes, I know, ironic.”

“Seems very reasonable,” Oliver says.

“I thought you’d approve. Your lot doesn’t bother with that sort of thing, right? Everyone dies, after all.” His smile quirks up at the corner; a shared joke between two dead men.

“Memento mori,” Oliver says. He’s beginning to suspect that he actually is being chatted up, a suspicion confirmed when Mike asks him out for a pint a few minutes later. He considers saying no, citing the shop: it’s too early in the day to close up, after all. But there aren’t any customers coming, and Mike’s cute enough, and it’s not like he has many options. And it’s been a very, very long time.

They talk shop a bit over drinks--”Most people just don’t understand how big eternity actually is,” Mike says, all quiet intensity, and Oliver finds himself nodding along--and then, tentative, like he’s actually nervous, Mike asks Oliver over to his flat.

Oliver hesitates. He hasn’t gotten mixed up in any of the inter-avatar politics; he’s had no need to, and an entanglement just seemed like a pointless bit of risk. Besides, he’s always found the delight in death and pain paradoxically distasteful. He loves it, worships it, recognizes it as the truth that underwrites the universe; that doesn’t mean he has to enjoy it.

But Mike seems reasonable enough, and he’s handsome in an anemic sort of way. And there’s--something, in his eyes, the tilt of his jaw, an echo of defiant exhaustion, a coldness that Oliver recognizes. He is fairly cold himself, after all.

Going to bed with Michael Crew is--well, it would be overwhelming, if Oliver were capable of being overwhelmed. Touching his skin is vertigo, is free fall, the first crack of thunder when a storm breaks. Oliver licks the scar on his chest and tastes ozone. He can only imagine what Mike feels, touching him. They aren’t human, anymore; their bodies are vessels for something monstrous and huge, beautiful in their horror; but they can still sweat, and bite, and gasp so gently at the shock of sudden pleasure. Afterwards, Oliver lays his head on Mike’s chest and is relieved when he doesn’t feel a heartbeat.

It becomes almost a regular thing. They don’t date. They don’t have a relationship. The part of themselves that could be given to another person was already dedicated to something else; Mike will never look at anyone the way he looks up at the night sky, and Oliver will never feel as sadly tender about anything as he does when he sees the soon-to-be-dead walk past. The secret that Mike keeps is that the world is very big; the secret Oliver keeps is that your experience of it will be small. The space they make fits somewhere in-between.

The truce that they keep between them is simple. Mike comes by the store every few months or so. They make smalltalk, discuss the state of the powers, have sex sometimes. It’s nice. Mike, it turns out, is just as much of a homebody as Oliver; he lets the silences between them stretch on, doesn’t both texting ahead, doesn’t make demands of Oliver’s time. This is, of course, ideal. It is hard to care about investing in another person when you keep in the center of your heart and in your bones the knowledge that they, too, will die.

But still. It’s nice. One evening Mike swings by the store just before closing, and Oliver looks at his grey eyes and narrow shoulders and feels--something. It isn’t joy, and it isn’t exactly lust, and it’s certainly not love--Oliver does remember what it was like to be in love, although the memory feels like a reflection in water, murky and warped and far away. But something unclenches, somewhere in his chest, and he smiles without thinking when he says hello.

“Hey,” Mike says. His hair is a mess, sticking up in all kinds of windblown directions. It suits him. “I brought you something.”

“Oh?” Oliver says. Mike isn’t the gift-giving type; they aren’t exactly in a gift-giving business. Mike nods, rooting through the pockets of his faded grey trousers. What he pulls out looks at first like a lump of pale rock, but Oliver can feel the cold emanating from it, familiar and soft. He holds out his hand, and Mike presses the lump into it.

A chunk of bone, worn smooth, the pockmarks of its structure exposed all along one side. A piece from the spine of a sea creature long extinct. Oliver can feel the layers of dead things condensed on the ocean floor, the sediment of thousands of years of endings. It was, not the last of its species, but second to last. With it died the last chance they had.

When he closes his eyes, he sees the dark ocean stretching out forever.

“Thank you,” he says. He rolls the bone back and forth, savoring it. “It’s--very nice.”

“You’re welcome,” Mike says. He sounds uneasy. He puts his hands back in his pockets, shoulders hunched. He doesn’t seem self conscious, not exactly, but--this isn’t something that they do, and they both know it. Still, Oliver smiles as he tucks the bone into the pocket of his work slacks, and after a moment, Michael relaxes again.

“Drop by my place, yeah?” he says. “When you’re done closing?”

Oliver doesn’t ask why he doesn’t want to linger. When Mike opens the shop door the is a rush of wind strong enough to tug at the covers of the paperbacks on display. Then the door shuts and the bell rings, and Oliver is left in stillness.

He rings up his last customer, a middle-aged woman buying a crystal pyramid and a book on chakra manipulation. There is a black tendril wrapped around her middle, and Oliver allows himself a moment to feel the soft, cold whisper of his god. It feels good. He knows, intellectually, that he might have felt guilty about that, once.

He closes up, and goes to Mike’s flat. Mike has a cup of tea and some takeaway already waiting for him. While they eat Mike tells him, in dreamy snippets, about his trip to the ocean. The sea, he said, that was big, but the sky--the perfect black, stretching on forever, unmarred by light pollution, the incredible, indifferent distance of the stars--that was something else. He closes his eyes while he speaks, savoring the memory. Oliver doesn’t ask what happened to the sailors he was with. He doesn’t have to. All the avatars serve the End, in their own ways.

They go to bed. When Mike removes his shirt Oliver sees a new scar, a patch of raw red skin in the shape of a handprint on his shoulder. Mike’s mouth twists when he notices Oliver looking.

“Had a bit of a disagreement with Jude Perry,” he says, wry. Then he frames Oliver’s face in his hands and kisses him, all sudden intent, and Oliver feels the vertigo again, twisting with arousal in the pit of his stomach. He smiles.

Afterwards, they lie together, Mike’s head on Oliver’s chest, Oliver’s fingers tangled in Mike’s hair. This is another thing they don’t usually do, the cuddling. Mike’s not a cuddly person, just like he’s not a clingy person, or a gift giving person, or--arguably--a person at all. Oliver finds himself remember the last time he did this. Years and years ago. In bed with Graham, who he didn’t let himself think about for so long that it became an unconscious habit to repress.

But his memories are hazy and confused, another life, full of feelings that no longer fit in his body. And there are details that he can’t line up: what color was Graham’s hair? His eyes? It’s all fading away, now, tangling and strange, like an old movie in a foreign language. Oliver gives up. He closes his eyes and lets himself drift, listening to the quiet rush of Mike’s breathing.

He dreams. In his dreams he is in the middle of the ocean, water like black glass stretching out in all directions. Forever. And above it the sky, the black and endless sky, full of cold and distant stars.

The water rolls. A huge wave, a wall: the back of some great creature, larger than a ship, than a whale, its bulk enough to change the entire landscape without breaking the surface. Oliver sees miles of barnacle-ridden skin, a single sunken eye. And around it, familiar as breathing: the tendrils of death, black and fleshy, like the arms of a kraken drawing it down. The behemoth groans, and the world shakes.

Oliver wakes up. At first he thinks he is still sleeping: he smells salt, and can feel the press of one of the death-tendrils against his hand, fleshy and cold. But no. He is awake, in Mike Crew’s flat. The smell is Mike’s hair; he hasn’t been able to wash the sea off of him, yet. And the touch--

There is a tendril around Mike’s neck.

There is nothing else to do. Oliver presses his mouth to the top of Mike’s head, closes his eyes. Then he slides carefully out of bed and begins to dress. Mike won’t wonder why he left. He won’t notice anything amiss, not until tomorrow, maybe, or the day after that. However many days it takes. Oliver pulls on his trousers and feels the lump of bone press against his hip. He does up the buttons on his shirt, pulls on his coat. It is raining. A soft, light rain, streaking down the window in the grey dawn.

He stops at the doorway, looks back at Mike’s small frame curled up under the comforter. One hand grasping at the pillow.

“Rest well,” Oliver whispers. Then he turns, and closes the door behind him.

#my fic #tma #the magnus archives #Oliver Banks #Mike Crew #OM #I Bet You Thought You'd Seen The Last Of Me #this will go on Ao3 One Day I promise

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imaginesrus · 5 years

Text

Patch Me Up - Steve H

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Canon Divergent Season 2

The reader is enjoying a quiet night in when four middle schoolers turn up on her doorstep with a battered and bruised Steve Harrington in the backseat.

Warnings: some blood, swearing, hurt comfort

Word Count: 2,500

There was frantic thumping at the front door, breaking you focus on the tv in the lounge. You shouted out a frustrated, “I’m coming,” before turning down the sound and heading to door, where someone was still pounding on the door.

“What?” you asked, swinging the door open to find four middle-schoolers standing on your doorstep. You leaned out the door way to look at the car sitting at your driveway. You recognised the shortest, with curly hair poking our from under his cap, as Dustin Henderson, who you had done some tutoring with last year, not that he needed it. The other two were his friends Mike and Lucas, who you had seen hanging out in the home while you had been there. The fourth was a red haired girl around the same age, who looked familiar but you couldn’t quite put your finger on where you had seen her.

You looked at the car a little closer, realisation dawning on you.

“Is that Billy Hargrove’s car?” It had been hard to miss him roaring around the school car park before and after school. The guy reeked of trouble and you had stayed well away. Then the realisation hit. That was why the red haired girl looked familiar, you had seen her in the car, his sister most likely.

“We need your help,” Dustin spoke up, a desperation in his voice, as his hand grabbed your jumper, pulling you from the doorway into the cold night.

“Wait,” you pull free from his hand, but continue to follow.

“Please, he’s not looking good.” You shake your head, hoping that they haven’t brought Billy himself here. having no idea what exactly these kids have gotten themselves into. Mike opens the back door, to reveal a motionless body in the back seat.

“Steve?” you ask, and there is a small groan from the back seat.

Oh shit, from the light from the front porch and the street lamp you can tell he is battered and bruised. A deep gash over his eye, a swollen lip and blood covering his face. You move immediately into the back seat, managing to crouch over him in the confined space to get a closer look at his injuries.

You look back over your shoulder at the kids crowding around the door, as if you will know what to do next. You know you need to get a better look at his wounds and just how much damage there is.

“Let’s get him inside,” you tell them climbing back out and moving to the other side of the vehicle to be able to grab hold of his shoulders. You point to the two tallest boys, “Help me lift him.”

They give a nod and come round to the other side of the vehicle to meet you.

Between the five of you, you manage to make your way into the house, and clumsily lower Steve on the couch, a groan leaving his lips at the impact.

“Sorry,” you mutter, as you shoot a look at Dustin who gives an apologetic smile. You move to the cupboard in the kitchen, searching the shelves until you find the first aid kit, hoping that it has been refilled since the last time it was used.

“Can I help?” the red haired girl asks.

“Can you get a bowl fill it with some water, and grab a towel from under the sink. And get one of your friends to grab something frozen from the freezer in the basement. I think there are some peas.” Your hands are shaking and you hold onto the counter to steady them, taking a deep breath, before moving away again.

The three boys are crowded around Steve, watching intently, with one whispering encouragement to him. You kneel beside him, opening the kit next to you on the coffee table. Tilting you head as you try to work out what to address first.

The bowl of water is placed next to you and the girl gives you a small smile, before she turns to they boys. “Lucas can you get something frozen from downstairs.”

Lucas gives a nod and makes his way to the hallway.

You soak the towel in the water, before squeezing out the excess.

“Hey, Steve,” you whisper, “It’s Y/N. This might sting a bit okay.” You gently dab the towel across his temple, moving down slowly over his eye, to his cheek careful not to add too much pressure. Sighing as the towel is quickly discoloured and you return it to the bowl to clean it off. As you return to clean the wound, there is a sharp intake of breath, and Steve’s eyes open slightly.

“Y/N?” His hand reaches up, as if he is about to cup your cheek and your motions stop at his movement. His hand grazes your cheek, just barely, before it slumps back down to his side.

“Yeah, me.” He goes to move up, and you gently place a hand on his shoulder stopping him, he doesn’t need much convincing to lay back into the couch. His eyes closing again. Lucas returns to the room clutching two bags of frozen peas and places them next to you on the coffee table.

You press the towel against his lip, wincing, as the deepness of the split comes into view as you clean the blood away.

“Who did this?” You ask, turning briefly to the kids, before focusing on Steve again. You want to murder them, a protective feeling rising up inside.

“My brother, Billy.”

“He was going to kill us,” Lucas chimes in. You clench your jaw, as your suspicions about Billy are confirmed.

“He would have killed him, if Max didn’t knock him out.” Mike adds. You raise an eyebrow at this, how exactly a girl of Max’s size could take out someone like Billy.

“There was a sedative,” she shrugs, pulling her jacket sleeves over her hands. A sedative? That raises more questions than it answers.

“And you’re all here because?” It still didn’t quite make sense how exactly they had come to your home.

“Steve was in and out of it, but he told us to come here.” Why would he have told them that? You and Steve had barely spoken since middle school. A passing glance in the school hallway was all that you had shared in the past year.

He was King Steve after all, and you were, well, you.

It had been simpler when you were younger, living next door to each other on the same street, around the same age, it had been almost inevitable that you had become friends. He had come to our house when things became too much at home. When his Dad was in one of his ‘moods’.

Your mom always would make you both a plate full of grilled cheese, which you would take to your treehouse, pretending that you had run away, making this place your home, a childhood fantasy escape.

He had been your first kiss up in that treehouse. It was only a peck on the lips, but you had held onto that memory since that day and could recount every aspect of it.

But all that had changed once you got to high school. Steve had always been good at making friends, and being popular had come easily to him. You had struggled and been left behind. It hurt, but you thought of it as the natural progression of things. People change and no good thing lasts forever.

“Is he going to be okay?”

“I think so,” you said your voice wavering as you applied another bandage, pulling the wound closed. You took one of the bags of peas, pressing it against his eye, hoping to bring down the swelling that was starting to develop.

“We need to go Dustin,” Mike whispered.

“Where are you going?”

“We need to do something.” Mike answered, cryptically.

“At this time of the night?”

“Our friends are in danger.”

“Wait a second, Steve was out cold in the back seat,” you turn towards Max, “you drove here. Can you even reach the pedals?”

“We used a brick,” Dustin volunteered proudly.

“Well you can’t go out there again.”

“You could drive us to the field.” Dustin suggested.

“Yeah, that way we might actually get there in one piece.” You considered the four friends before looking back down at Steve. You couldn’t leave him here, if he deteriorated someone needed to be with him. But you couldn’t let these kids go out on their own. Especially with Billy still unaccounted for.

You let out a groan of frustration, “Fine, but we can’t leave him here. We need to get him back in the car.”

“We need supplies.” Dustin suggested, “Gloves, goggles, protection.”

“Protection from what?”

“Do you have something like that?” Mike asks, ignoring the question.

“Go have a look in the basement, there may be some of my dad’s work gear.” You suggested, giving up on trying to reason with the determined kids, wondering how exactly Steve had gotten mixed up in all of this. The Steve you knew, wouldn’t have been caught dead babysitting a bunch of middle schoolers. Even if one of them happened to be Nancy Wheeler’s brother.

The kids disappeared from the room, as you began to repack the first aid kit, ready to take with you to wherever it was you were going. A hand brushed up against your own, which you had left over Steve’s without even realising.

“Y/N?” Steve had come to again, and seemed just as confused by your presence as he had before. He started to look around frantically, his eye not covered by the bag of peas darting around the room, “where?”

“They’re fine.” You answered. Placing your hand gently on his chest, his breathing calming at your touch. “They are getting supplies.” He goes to move again, resting on his elbows in an attempt to stand up.

“Whoah,” you place your hands firmly on his shoulders keeping him in place, “You need to keep still. Billy really did a number on you.”

“You patched me up?”

“Yeah, just like old times,” you say with a chuckle, remembering putting a Smurfs band aid on his knee after he came off the tire swing, years ago. Placing a gentle kiss to his cheek in the promise it would make him ‘all better’, ignoring the blush that immediately spread across your cheeks.

“We can’t let them go,” he sighed. Holding the bag to his eye as he winced in pain.

“I don’t think we can stop them. And there is no way I am letting them drive out to a field in the middle of nowhere to do God knows what.”

“I’ll drive them, you don’t need to,”

“You are in no condition to drive. And you brought all this to my doorstep.“ There was no way you were letting Steve or those kids out of your sight. You know there is something he isn’t telling you.

“Why did you bring them here anyway? It’s not like we’re friends. Not anymore.” You look away, concentrating on sorting the items back into the first aid kit. “I mean, you have Nancy now.” You wish you could take it back as soon as the words leave your lips, it sounds bitter, it sounds jealous.

Steve gives a small smile, as much as his face will allow him, “Didn’t you hear? She, um, we broke up.”

“Oh,” your voice is quiet, as you let the news hit you, “sorry.” You had heard that she had left the school early yesterday with Jonathon Byers, but you had just attributed that to high school rumours.

“You always looked out for me, since we were kids and I’ve been an asshole, I shouldn’t have let popularity get in the way of our friendship. It was a dick move.”

“The kids said that you stood up to Billy, that you saved them and he did this to you.” You push back the hair from his forehead, you fingers trailing down his cheek.

“You should see him,” he gives a chuckle which quickly turns into a cough as his hand grips his side. You place your own hand over his, concerned that there may be more to his injuries than what you can see on the surface.

“That’s not something a popular high school asshole would usually do.” You say in a low whisper, and he smiles back at you. A tension settling over the room as his thumb moves over your knuckles.

“Okay we have everything,” Dustin announces loudly as the troop re-enters the living room, holding an assortment of items. You snatch your hand away, and get up quickly.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” Dustin, reaches over to pat Steve’s shoulder, “You almost had him, really, this close.”

“Thanks Dustin,” Steve mumbles as he manages to sit up on the couch, as you watch him closely, looking for any further signs of a concussion, but are relived to see that there is some colour returning to his skin.

“We need to get this into the car,” Mike says holding up the ‘supplies’, Max holds up the car keys in her hand and moves to the door, the other kids following suit.

“Guess we are moving on then,” you sigh, standing up and holding out your hand for Steve to hold onto to. You pull him up into a standing position and although he wavers slightly, placing his weight onto your shoulder for a brief moment, he manages to steady himself and move towards to the front door. You hold onto his waist just in case, he falters down the steps but loosen your grip as you walk down the driveway.

Lucas is slamming the car boot shut as you approach the vehicle, Dustin, Max and Mike already in the back seat. You move Steve around to the passenger seat, and he leans his hand against the vehicle for support.

“Shit,” you mutter as you look up to see that the cut above his eye has reopened. The first aid kit is still sitting on the coffee table.

“Wait here for a second,” you tell Steve as you race back into the house to retrieve the kit. As you approach the front door to leave you hear it, an engine starting. You break out into a run as you drop the first aid kit and run out to the car. Steve is in the driver seat, with Lucas beside him.

You bash on the closed window with your fist, while your other hand pulls desperately at the car door handle, “Steve, open the door,” you shout, “Open the fucking door!” Both of your fists slam against the window.

“Sorry, Y/N, I can’t let you get involved with this.”

You thump again, before moving back away from the car, “Please Steve.” You try again, a lump in your throat, that makes the words come out more pitiful than you intend.

“Forgive me,” he says as the engine revs and the car speeds away from your house, leaving you holding your head in your hands, cursing Steve Harrington.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagine #season 2 #hurt comfort #mild blood #swearing #poor steve #poor reader #childhood friends

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eddiesasspbrak · 4 years

Text

Allergies

Eddie can't stop sneezing whenever he's with his boyfriends and Stan is determined to find out why.

A request from @eddies-not-dead

Requests currently open for most IT ships

Read on AO3

3k+ words

“Achoo!” Eddie sneezed for the fifth time in ten minutes, lurching forward on his perch on Stan’s lap.

Stan reached into his pocket and grabbed a tissue from the little pack he kept there, handing it to Eddie.

“Maybe you’re catching a cold.” He suggested, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist and placing his chin on his shoulder.

“I don’t know. I feel fine most of the time. It’s only when I’m with you two.” Eddie said, wiping his nose and leaning back against Stan.

“Maybe you’re allergic to Richie.”

Richie flipped him off from where he was setting up the VCR with a movie. They often gathered in Richie’s basement with the rest of the Losers to hang out and watch movies, but ever since the three of them had started a relationship, it was usually just them. Richie had been in love with Eddie for a long time and Stan was the only one who knew. Eddie fell in love with them both and when Stan had started helping Richie try to woo Eddie, Richie fell for him too. It was only a matter a time before they all realized their feelings for one another, and the rest was history.

It had been a little awkward at first when Richie and Eddie started dating and they were both hiding their feelings for Stan. It was during a drunken night at Mike’s when they both confessed their feelings for the third boy to each other. They had a long, sober, discussion about what they wanted to do and, in the end, concluded that they wanted to bring him into their relationship if he was willing. Many awkward attempts to talk to him about it later, they finally got the words out and Stan confessed he’d been in love with them both since middle school. Helping Richie win Eddie’s heart had been hard for him and so he agreed. It took some adjusting and getting used to, but it was worth it.

The three were very affectionate with one another, always touching in some small way. Shoulders leaning against the other, fingers interlaced, legs stretched across the other’s lap. The way all three bickered, it was easy to doubt their feelings but that was the way they flirted. Bill called it disgusting, but then that might have been revenge for all of Richie’s jokes about Mike seeing Bill as a baby lamb and that’s why he loved him. Mike had laughed and that earned him an elbow in the ribs from Bill.

“Must be that nasty cologne you insist on using.” Richie said, plopping down beside them on the couch, his leg bumping Stan’s.

“You gave me the cologne for my birthday asshole.”

“Aw, you’re using the gift I gave you. I think Stan likes me, Eds.”

Richie looped an arm around Stan’s shoulders and pulled him close, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. Stan mumbled a “get off” but made to move to actually get away from him. Richie left his arm there, sinking into the warmth radiating off of the two boys beside him. It was winter and snow covered the ground outside, temperatures dropping as low as 15 degrees Fahrenheit. They’d made the trek to the video store, renting three movies to get them through the night and then stopped for snacks. By the time they returned to Richie’s, they were frozen solid, their socks and cuffs of their pans wet. Richie had provided sweatpants and retrieved the fluffiest, warmest blanket he owned to cuddle under.

“I’m serious, guys. My allergies aren’t usually this bad in the winter. Did one of you start wearing something different?” Eddie asked, pulling the blanket up to his chin.

“I don’t think so.” Stan said, racking his brain for anything different.

“Laundry detergent? Cologne? Maybe even-.” Eddie stopped midsentence, another sneeze interrupting him. “-shampoo.” He finished with a sniffle.

“I haven’t changed anything.” Stan confirmed after thinking hard about all the products he used. “Richie?” He turned to the third boy, noting how quiet he was being.

“Nope. Haven’t changed anything.” He spoke quickly keeping his eyes forward, focused on the TV and trying to ignore the way Stan was staring at him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

Something told Stan that he shouldn’t trust Richie with the way he was acting. He had a hard time lying to Stan because he had this way of looking at him that mad him crack. If he just kept looking forward, he wouldn’t have to admit anything, so Stan thought he’d play a little game. He’d noticed that when he met up with Eddie at his house, he hadn’t been sneezing. In fact, it didn’t start until a few minutes after he hugged Richie and had only gotten worse since arriving at his house. Stan hugged Eddie tight, keeping him on his right side, farthest away from Richie and watched for a while to see how bad it was. When he only sneezed once in that time, Stan made his next move.

“I have to pee.” He said, gently scooting Eddie off his lap and next to Richie.

Stan left them to go upstairs to the bathroom and Richie scooped Eddie up in his arms, holding him to his chest. By the time Stan rejoined them not three minute later, Eddie was sneezing again and pulling his inhaler from his pocket. Stan looked at Richie who had a concerned look on his face. As soon as Stan was back on the couch, Richie gently shoved Eddie back into his lap and stood.

“I’ll be back.” He said, quickly excusing himself to run up the stairs.

Stan sat beside Eddie, rubbing his back and handing him another tissue from his pocket. He felt bad for subjecting Eddie to his tests, but his suspicions had been confirmed. It was something about Richie that was causing an allergic reaction and making Eddie sneeze. He couldn’t think of a reason he’d lie about changing a product or adding one to his routine. Refusing to even talk about it is what really struck Stan as odd. His mind went to worst case scenario went left to wander. What if Richie had someone else’s scent on him? What if he was cheating with someone who wore something that Eddie was allergic to and that’s why he was so secretive?

Ten minutes past and when Richie finally emerged from the stairwell and rejoined them on the couch, he’d changed his shirt. Eddie didn’t seem to notice, and Stan wasn’t about to say anything. Not now anyway. He did want to confront him but not while Eddie was there. They were both weak for the smallest of the three as all he had to do was flash those doe eyes and they’d do anything for him. So, if Richie was up to something, there was no way he’d admit to it in front of him.

The following day, Stan bundled up and braved the cold and snow to head to Richie’s. He didn’t call beforehand. He wanted to take him by surprise. Standing on the porch shivering, he waited for someone to answer his knocking. It likely wouldn’t be Richie. He never got up early unless he absolutely had to. Not that 10am was very early but on a weekend for Richie it might as well be 4am.

After only a few seconds more, the door was opening to reveal Maggie Tozier, Richie’s mom. She didn’t know about her son being in a relationship with two boys, so she constantly asked where the rest of their friends were. Many excuses were made, and she seemed to buy it. They didn’t really think she’d have a problem but if Eddie’s mom or Stan’s dad got wind of it, all hell would break loose

“Good morning Stanley. What bring you here so early?” She greeted, stepping aside to let him get out of the cold.

“I thought about going to the arcade today and wanted to see if Richie wanted to join. Sorry, I should have called first.”

“Oh no, don’t worry about that. You kids are always welcome here.” She said with a wave of her hand. “Richie ran to the store for an errand, but he should be back soon. You’re welcome to wait up in his room.”

“Ok, thank you.” Stan said, stripping off his coat and hanging it on the hook and leaving his wet shoes on the mat by the door. Before heading upstairs, he turned back to her. “Where did he go?”

“I’m not sure. He said he wanted to get something special for that cute girl of his.”

“Cute girl?”

“Sure, haven’t you met her? She’s the sweetest.”

“Oh…yea…” Stan felt like he’d been punched in the gut and suddenly it was very hard to swallow. “I’ll, um, go wait in his room.”

Stan hastily made his way up the stairs to Richie’s bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He felt sick. At first, he’d thought that maybe Richie lied to his mom about having a girlfriend and was really out getting something for him or Eddie. But calling her sweet implied she’d met her. An actual girl that Richie was dating. There was no way she’d be mistaking Bev as his girlfriend either. She knew Bev. Knew that she was dating Ben. This was a separate girl that they didn’t know, and he’d been hiding from them. Stan felt his heartbreaking, his only solace that he and Eddie would be there to comfort each other.

As he sat on Richie’s bed, trying to catch his breath and stop the panic attack before it happened, he told himself that he would not cry. He’d confront Richie as soon as he walked through that door. He’d ask him who this cute, sweet girl that his mother mentioned was. He’d ask him how he could come to them smelling off her perfume, causing Eddie to have a reaction and acting like it was ok. He was angry and he let that anger build and snuff out the sadness. He didn’t need to cry, he needed to yell.

When Richie arrived home, he rushed through the front door and shook his head to let the snow fall from his hair. “I’m back!” He called toward the living room to let his mom know it was him who’d walked in.

“Oh good, you have a visitor.” She called back.

Richie furrowed his brows, setting the bag he’d been carrying down beside him. He hadn’t been expecting anyone and figured something serious must have happened to prompt an unannounced visit from one of his friends. Shaking off his coat, he turned to hang it and knew immediately who it was. Looking down to the shoe tray only confirmed that it was Stan. It was odd for him to show up without calling first. If he came over only to find that Richie had gone to the arcade, he’d get annoyed as he lived closer to the arcade and walked all the way to Richie’s for nothing. So, he called. Always.

“Stan?” Richie asked, grabbing the back up off the floor again.

“Yes. I told him he could wait up in your room.”

Richie’s stomach dropped. Stan was in his room. Without him. With things he was trying to keep secret from the others. Especially Eddie and Stan. Richie took the stairs two at a time, throwing his door open as soon as he reached it. Stan was sitting on his bed, startled by his abrupt entrance. He didn’t look happy and Richie could only guess why.

“Hey…Stan.” He greeted, closing the door behind him.

“Richie.” Stan’s mouth was tight, angry.

“I wasn’t expecting…I mean, did we make plans?”

“No. I wanted to discuss Eddie with you. I’m been observing his reactions around us and I’ve noticed they get worse when he’s with you.”

“Well, I don’t-.”

“Save it.” Stan stood, smoothing out his shirt. “I know all about this girl you’ve been seeing. It’s one thing to lie to us, to cheat, but to come around Eddie and cause problems for him because of some cheap drugstore perfume she undoubtably bathes in is despicable. I thought you cared about him. About me.” Stan’s voice wavered as he bit his bottom lip to try and stop the emotion from coming through.

Richie dropped the bag and took a step forward, placing his hands on Stan’s shoulders. “Whoa, hey, you’ve got it all wrong. There is no girl.”

“Don’t try to deny it. Your mom told me.”

“My mom? What did she say?”

“She said you went out to buy something for your cute, sweet girl.” Stan’s eyes were glossy, but he refused to let the tears fall. Not now.

“Oh.” Was all Richie said and for the first time in a long time, Stan had an uncontrollable urge to punch Richie in the mouth. His hands balled into fists at his side as he tried to calm himself and not act.

“I’m leaving.” He said, shaking loose from Richie’s grip and heading toward the door.

“No, wait, wait, wait!” Richie said, putting his hand on the door as Stan couldn’t pull it open.

“Move.”

“Not until you let me show you something.”

“No, I don’t care what you have to show me, I hate you.”

“You’ve told me you hate me at least a thousand times since kindergarten and it was never true and it’s not true now.” Richie tried to make him smile but failed. “Please. Just one thing and if it doesn’t change your mind you can leave, and I’ll never bother you or Eddie again.”

Stan sighed but he released the doorknob and turned back to him. “You have five minutes.”

Richie grinned, grabbing Stan’s hand and dragging him over to his closet, scooping up the bag on the way. He sat on the floor in front of the door and pulled on Stan’s hand until he sat too. Confused and still upset, Stan pulled his hand free and crossed his arms over his chest. Richie tried not to let that get to him and instead leaned forward and slid the closet door open, revealing the secret he’d hidden inside. Stan relaxed, his arms dropping down to his lap and he looked at the little black kitten in the middle of a big pillow. The kitten stretched and yawned having been woken from its nap.

“This is the cute, sweet girl my mom was talking about.” Richie said, reaching into the bag and pulling out a can for cat food. “This is what I went out to buy for her.”

“A cat…” Stan said, feeling his face and ears growing warm. “I was jealous over a cat?”

“Yep. I told you, you had it wrong. I’d never cheat on you and Eddie. If already got everything I need.” Richie opened the cat and set it down beside the pillow. The kitten slid off the top and began licking at the food inside.

“Why do you have a cat?”

“She followed me home a few weeks ago and wouldn’t stop crying until I picked her up. I put up found cat posters, but no one has called yet. I think she’s a stray.”

“You know Eddie is allergic to cats, don’t you?”

Richie’s smile fell away. “Yea, I know. I’ve been trying to keep all the fur and dander off me of but she’s so damn cuddly.”

“But that’s why he’s been sneezing. Why didn’t you just tell him?”

“Because he’d stop coming around me if he knew. I can barely go a day without seeing the both of you and I don’t know how long I’ll have her here.”

“You’re not planning to keep her, are you?”

“No. She’s cute and seems to really like me but I can’t do that to Eds. Besides, I don’t think I’m up for taking care of a pet.”

“You can barely take care of yourself.”

Richie’s smile returned as he looked at Stan, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him into a chaste kiss. “You gonna tell Eddie?”

“No. I’ll keep your secret for now.”

Richie kissed him again, pulling him closer to his side. When the kitten was done eating, they played with her with a bit of yarn Richie’s mom had given him. Stan agreed to help out with finding the kitten’s home. They were afraid of taking her to shelter as the closest one was outside of town limits and if she had a home already, they wanted to return her. It took two more weeks of hiding it from Eddie, putting up posters and asking around town for someone to call. The kitten belonged to a family with children. They’d left the door open and she’d darted outside before they could stop her. Richie agreed to bring the kitten to them and called Stan over so he could say goodbye.

Braving the cold, Richie put the kitten inside his coat and zipped it up just high enough to keep warm but no suffocate the kitten. They’d played with her a bit and got in as many pets and cuddles as they could before taking her home. Stepping out on the porch, both were surprised to see Eddie standing there.

“Oh, hey Eds.” Richie greeted.

“What are you guys doing?” He asked, looking between them both.

“We’re just…uh…running an errand.”

Eddie seemed upset, not climbing up the stairs to hug them both like he normally would. “Did I do something wrong?” He asked.

“What? No, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Stan said, descending the stairs to stand close to him. “Why, what’s the matter?”

“I feel like you two are avoiding me lately and always whispering. Did you decide you break up with me and just date each other?” He seemed on the verge of tears and all Richie wanted to do was scoop him up in his arms, but he had a kitten in his coat and couldn’t.

“Absolutely not. We love you.” Stan soothed a gloved hand over his cheek.

“Then what’s going on?”

“Nothing. We were just…concerned about your allergies.” Richie said. “It’s my fault they’ve been so bad, and I just didn’t want to tell you.”

“How is it your fault?” Eddie asked as Richie came down the stairs to join them.

Before he could answer, a tiny head poked out from the top of his coat, mewling at the three boys. Eddie was startled by the sudden appearance of a cat and took a step back on instinct. His mom had lied to him about a lot of fake allergies he’d never actually had. When the Losers embarked on testing them all to see if any were real (many of which involved sitting in Bev’s car just outside the emergency room with takeout boxes of food) Mike had provided a barn cat from his grandfather’s farm. That allergy turned out to be one of only three that were true, the other two being pollen and pine.

“Why is there a cat in your coat?” He asked, eyes wide.

“I found her a few weeks ago and I’ve been keeping her in my closet.” Richie confessed. “This is why your allergies have been so bad around me. I’m sorry. I’m not keep her though. I found her family and that’s where I’m going right now.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me? Do you know how worried I was?”

“I didn’t want you to find out it was me and stay away.”

“I wouldn’t have done that. I might wear a mask around you and lint roll you from head to toe before touching you, but I wouldn’t stay away.” Eddie sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I’m actually relieved. I was worried I’d developed an allergy to something new.”

“Sorry. I should have just told you.” Richie wished again that he could hug him.

“It’s fine. Can I go with you guys to take it home?”

“Of course.” Stan said, reaching his hand out to take hold of Eddie’s.

“And when we get back can we deep clean your room to remove any fur and dander so I can sit on your lap without sneezing?”

“Fine by me.” Richie grinned.

The three walked in the cold to the address Richie had been given. When they arrived, the kids were already sitting outside on the porch, eagerly awaiting the return of their kitten. They said their goodbyes, turned down the reward money and left. Eddie made them stop on the way back to Richie’s to pick up some cleaning supplies, a mask and gloves. When they returned, he made Richie wash every bit of clothing in his closet as that’s where he’d kept the kitten. It took a while for him to deem everything clean enough but by the time they were done, Eddie had stopped sneezing. He made both boys promise not to keep a secret like that from him again as they cuddled up on the freshly vacuumed basement couch.

#streddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #stanley uris #It (2017)#it (2019)#Ro writes #requests #eddies-not-dead

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years

Text

Meet me in the past part two

AN: yeah so this part two of the story, I hope you enjoy! I wasn’t exactly sure if there was a door leading the garage from Bill to his house, but in my story it sure is so. please let me what you think!

Summary: After Stanley Uris takes his own life, his daughter goes to find the recipients of his letters and ends up in Derry. After and incounter with IT, she ends up traveling back into the past, meeting the younger version of her dad and his friends.

warnings: cursing that’s it I think

tagging; @artlovingbre @cocastyle

‘Shit do you think Bowers got to her?’

A hand was touching her forehead, softly moving her head back and forth. Emily jumped up, slapping the hand away. She had to shut her eyes at the blinding light that seemed to burn her eyes away. It took a few seconds before everything came back to her, about her dad, the losers club and the Jade oriental. Her eyes snapped open once more at the thought of the restaurant. Her eyes made eye contact with a boy, most likely her own age, who was looking like a deer in headlights. Emily looked around, but she wasn’t in the restaurant anymore.

Instead she was in some sort of back alley. It looked disgusting, there was trash on the ground all around her, and she was pretty sure she was sitting on what used to be a cradle of beer. It sure as hell smelled like it. ‘Where am I’? Emily asked, her voice sounding gravely, most likely because she just woke up.

She turned back toward the boy, finally noticing that there were more people than just the two of them. Behind the boy there were 5 other boys, and one girl. Emily blinked in shock once she focused on one boy in particular. The curly haired boy did not seem like he wanted to be here at all, he had a scowl on his face and he was trying his best to put distance between him and herself. He was wearing a Kippah, and dressed a lot more fancy than the other boys, and girl did, he dressed like an adult man in a kids body. He also looked an insane amount of Stan. Emily frowned as she kept staring, the resemblance between the boy and her father were remarkable. The boy in turn opted to glare at her.

‘Can we go now, she woke up and who knows how she got here anyway?’ Emily was wondering the same thing. The last thing she remembered was falling in the restaurant, and although she didn’t know the adults all that well, she had never suspected that they would just leave her on the street.

‘Who are you guys’? Emily asked choosing to ignore the Stan look alike.

‘I’m B-b-bill, the first boy told her. She took notice of his stutter immediately, but he looked embarrassed so she didn’t comment on it. She knew what it felt like to have people judging you for something you couldn’t help. ‘Wait, did you just say Bill?’ Emily frowned at him, and at her question, his eyebrows rose up.

‘Y-y-Yeah, why?’ Bill asked, sounding confused. Emily tore her eyes away from him staring at the others. She didn’t understand what the hell was going on. ‘My names is Beverly’, the redhead introduced herself, ‘but you can call me Bev’, both Beverly and Emily said at the same time. ‘Wtf new girl’, another boy, one with magnifying classes spoke up. ‘The names Richie, but the ladies call me Trashmouth, want to find out why?’ He asked with a smirk.

‘Beep beep Richie’, another boy bristled. ‘You think you’re so funny huh, dickwad? As if any girl would be into you and your Trashmouth,’ he spoke bitterly. Richie continued unfazed. ‘Don’t worry Eddie Spaghetti, you know your mom is still the only one for me’.

Eddie, Richie, Bill and Beverly. Emily started to feel lightheaded, the panic spreading like a wildfire. Eddie and Richie were still bickering, but Bill and Beverly were looking at her questionably.

‘I’m Ben’, a boy shyly spoke up, while shuffling back and forth on his feet. It was clear that the boy was self-conscious and didn’t have a lot of confidence, but Emily thought he looked quite nice. ‘Ben’, she repeated. He nodded his head timidly, while looking down at his shoes, unable to make eye contact with her.

If their names were all the same as the adults in the restaurant, then, ‘Mike’, a boy with a white overall spoke, confirming her suspicions. Emily’s breathing picked up, all of these kids looked eerily similar to the losers club she had met only 3 hours ago . At least, she thought it was three hours ago, she wasn’t sure what day it was, and how long she had been laying in that back alley. If all of them were the people her dad wrote these letters too, than her dad- lookalike, should be called Stan as well.

Her fist clenched together tightly, she was sure she was absolutely losing her mind. There was no way that these kids were the same people she had met as adults. Still, she couldn’t help the way her eyes hopefully looked into the last boy’s eyes, the only one who hadn’t introduced himself yet. He was looking at her too, and Emily felt the shared looks turning into a staring match. She felt the hostile demeanor aimed towards her, and she wondered what she had even done to deserve that behavior.

‘Stan’? She asked softly, while her voice shook. The boy broke eye contact at that, a surprised look crossing over his face before covering it up and putting on a blank face. He nodded solemnly, but instead of making eye contact, this time he stepped another step back.

‘How did you know that? Are you a friend of Bowers?’ Stan asked her, but Emily was too busy to focus on not crying to comprehend his question. This had to have something to do with what happened in the Jade Oriental.

This IT that Bill had been talking about. She thought back about the fortune cookie attacking her, about her falling flat on her back and passing out. Bill had talked about this IT transforming into the things you feared most, and maybe that was what was happening right now. Could IT transfer into humans? It sure seemed like it.

She just had to think about this logically. That’s what she always did; best case scenario, this was just a dream. Emily pinched herself but it did nothing except sting, not a dream then. The other option was that this was IT, and he was trying to trick her for whatever reason that may be. She didn’t allow herself to dwell on the third explanation, which was that she was send into the past. She wasn’t sure she could handle being in the vast proximity of her dad.

Back to option two, this was this IT. Would it help if she pretended that she wasn’t on to what IT was doing? It certainly wouldn’t hurt to try. She smiled, a wobbly, tired smile that seemed more like a grimace. ‘I have no idea, who this Bowers guy is’. She told Stan, standing up for the first time since she woke up. She stumbled forward, but Richie and Bill held her back. ‘E-e-easy, you m-m-must have t-t-aken a nasty f-f-fall.’

It wasn’t, but she didn’t know what other excuse she was supposed to come up with. She turned her smile to Bill, nodding her head, but stopping once she realized she was only worsening her headache. ‘Yeah, I fell while I was trying to chase my dog’. She told him. Emily had always had an excellent poker face, and she hoped it wasn’t failing her now.

The losers seemed convinced, even though Stan was still sharply watching her. ‘Did you find him’? Richie asked, adjusting his glasses to stabilize them. Emily shook her head, trying to seem sad as she told them that the dog had been too fast for her. It wasn’t hard to be sad as she thought about all the things that had happened in the last couple of days.

‘I hope you find him’, Ben said hopefully, flashing his big smile as Emily looked at him. ‘I’ve never seen you around here, are you new?’ Stan asked, sounding too laid back to have it come across convincing. Emily’s breath stocked, it was the same type of voice her dad would use against her as her tried to figure out if she was lying about something.

Emily didn’t trust her voice, so instead she nodded. She hadn’t even interpreted the question, but she was too afraid to.

‘So where do you live’? Eddie asked, while trying to pry Richie’s hands of his arm, the scowl on his face wavering as his smile threatened to break through.

Emily hadn’t thought of that, at all. She didn’t what she was supposed to answer. If this really was IT, why hadn’t he done anything yet? Besides, it was shocking to see her father this young, but it wasn’t exactly scary. Not like the thing attacking her had been.

‘I, I don’t have a house yet’, she said, ‘I came early, my parents still had some business to take care of at home’. She gulped, it was a bad excuse and she knew it. Still though, it was hard I come up with answers on the spot, especially since she wasn’t sure what was happening.

‘Oh, so where will you be staying?’ Richie inquired. Emily looked around hopeless. She had no idea.

‘W-w-ere h-h-having a s-s-sleepover, I-if you w-w-wanna come?’ Bill questioned, and Emily felt a surge of gratitude towards him. ‘Yeah, that would be great’.

Richie hooted, to which Eddie shut him a look as if to say that he should stop it.

‘B-b-ev is r-r-riding white m-m-e, but y-y-you can r-r-ride w-w-ith Stan.’ Bill said. Stan’s head turned so quickly it almost sounded like his neck broke. He mustered the most angry look at Bill, turning his glare towards Emily, before huffing, turning around and leaving his bike there, as he walked down the street. It was still for a couple of seconds, nobody daring to move an inch. Richie was the first one that spoke up. ‘I’ll go after him’, he sighed as he too turned and walked after Stan. It was becoming quite obvious that Richie and Stan cared about each other.

Emily felt like crying all over again. She had never been on the receiving end of that look from her dad. He rarely even got that angry, only when the neighbor would once again ride his car into the mailbox after a night of partying, and if one of his customers called him to complain when he was at home. It may not have even been her dad, but it still hurt.

She just wanted to go home, to her mom, so she could be mad at her father in peace. ‘He’s just worried about us, bowers has been really vicious lately’, Bev explained.

‘Who’s bowers?’ Emily shrugged helplessly, her dad hadn’t said much about his childhood.

Ben looked down, his hand grazing his shirt near the underside of his belly, hissing once his hand made contact with something. ‘A bully’, Eddie answered.

‘Well, I don’t know him at all, so don’t worry. I have no plans in bullying you guys. I mean I don’t even have friends’, Emily mumbled bashfully. It wasn’t exactly true, she did have a best friend, but she didn’t really think that counted.

The group smiled. ‘W-w-well you d-d-do now’, bill smiled.

‘Welcome to the losers club, new chick’. Richie beloved as him and Stan approached the group again. Stan still looked reluctant, but he didn’t seem as mad anymore.

‘Oh right, My names is Emily’ she flushed.

‘Hey Emily’. Mike had the kindest smile on his face as he said this, and he already turned towards his bike, getting on it. ‘You can ride with me if you want?’

Stan sighed, ‘or with me, you can also ride with me’. He said looking apprehensive, still though, he offered, and that made Emily more happy then she would have liked.

Nevertheless, she turned around towards mike, ‘thank you, but it’s fine. I’ll just ride with Mike’. Stan nodded, quickly getting his bike as well, and with Bill the leading, the group got on their way.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Stan rolled his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time. Even though it was starting to get a bit annoying, Emily couldn’t help but giggle at the way Richie and Eddie were still bickering. It was endearing to see. She had been at Bill’s house for about 3 hours now, and it was becoming clear that these people really got along well with Stan, and were very close with one another. They were accepting and kind, and they made Emily feel right at home in their group. Richie could be a bit much at times , and Eddie freaked her out a bit with his rants about how she shouldn’t sit on a dirty floor, do you know how much bacteria were on there? Still, they were a fun group, each with their own personalities, qualities and opinions of their own.

Currently they were playing 20 questions, as they said they wanted to get to know Emily better. She had, of course agreed, but it was only after answering several questions that she had the insight to lie a bit. She didn’t want IT to know too much about her, and even if this was really her dad, she couldn’t make it weird by telling him all the stuff his daughter would like to do in the future. They had the usual questions like what are your hobbies (Theater and reading), what do you want do when you grow up (teacher), what was the name of your dog?

Though everyone was nice, Stan still seemed very uncomfortable with her being there. It hurt. She had always been close with her dad. They would hang out every Sunday, whether it was making a puzzle or going to a theatre, it was their hang out day. Even if they had a fight, which happened from time to time, they would never go to bed without making up. He always listened respectfully to her opinions, even if it didn’t really make sense. He was just a great father in general, and a respectful man.

Emily could definitely see that in younger Stan, but it seemed as if this Stan had trouble hiding his distrust towards everything. She could see how happy and open he was with his friends, but he wasn’t at all like that with her. With her, he was stiff as a board, watching her like a hawk would watch its prey, as if waiting until she made a mishap.

It was better than when she had woken up too though, as he would sometimes give her reserved smile. The smiles were obviously fake, but Emily still appreciated the effort. He asked her about where she came from. Emily wanted to say Atlanta, but she didn’t want to give too much away, so she told the group that she came from Brooklyn. Stan then had asked about her parents, and it was clear he was trying to figure out what her intentions were. Bill had given him a warning look and Stan had backed off, but Emily had felt very faint in that moment.

‘you aren’t very loud, are you new girl’? Richie asked her. It was true. Her mother had once joked that Emily had the quietness of her father, only without his weird sense of humor. Emily was quite, and could really enjoy jokes crude or not, but she could never come up with jokes herself. She shrugged towards Richie, proving his point more with a smirk, and Richie laughed with her. Her attention was once again drawn towards Bill, who was fidgeting on the floor where he was seated. He had been doing that for the past hour. As Emily and Bill made eye contact, he smiled and stood up, brushing his pants as he did so. ‘I’m just going to grab some more drinks’, he said as he walked out of the room.

‘I’m sorry’, Stan mumbled suddenly from beside Emily. She turned her body towards Stan, indicating to him that she was listening. ‘I shouldn’t have been so rude to you’, he finished. She smiled, feeling a little lighter at his words, he was starting to remind her more and more of her dad. ‘It’s okay, I guess I was kind of strange’, Emily said.

Stan smiled back at her, and this time, it was genuine. He still didn’t look like her trusted her completely, but it was clear he had taken, at least a slight, liking toward her. Before anything else could be said, the door of Bill’s room was thrown open again. Bill was heaving slightly. He was holding what seemed to be a map clenched in his fist. ‘I g-g-got it’, he said while looking around the room. As he looked at Emily his eyes widened, as if he had forgotten that she was there.

Eddie seemed to jump in to help him. ‘hey Emily, do you think you could clean up the kitchen? It’s a weird tradition we have, to clean up the kitchen yeah. So because your new you should do it. Do you know how many bacteria’s there are in a kitchen. My mom said she had a friend that died because some of the bacteria’s of her kitchen table got into her soup and-‘

‘Okay, Eddie thanks for that detailed story,’ Stan said, cutting off Eddie’s rant successfully. ‘I’m sure she gets the gist by now’.

Emily frowned, it was a weird story, but she wasn’t exactly going to question it. Especially not because her story was also suspicious, and they didn’t push her about it too much. She nodded, already begin to stand up. ‘yeah of course, where will you guys be’? She asked turning around at the door to face the group.

‘The garage, we’re going to look through some of Bill’s old stuff’. Beverly answered. All of the losers gave her a tight smile before getting up themselves

Emily accepted this answer and started her way to the kitchen, Bill had showed her around when she had first gotten here. She heard the others go to the garage, and she felt the need to follow them. It was obvious that they were hiding something. If there was anything that described Emily well, it was that she was very curious. Still, she showed the respect her parents had taught her, and she stayed in the kitchen. It didn’t look like the kitchen needed any cleaning to her, as they had only been into the kitchen to grab some drinks and chips, but she still searched the cabinets to find a washcloth.

Normally, she wouldn’t check someone’s cabinets either, but Bill hadn’t told her were any of the stuff was to clean, so she had to figure it out herself. She held the washcloth under cold water and added a cleaning soap before beginning to wipe it across every surface of the kitchen. This wasn’t usually her chore. This was what her mom did. Emily herself always did the dishes while her mom cleaned the kitchen, and her dad would put everything away that Emily had just dried.

It was a weird thought to have, a random one, but for some reason she wished there were dished she could do. Just to get into a familiar setting. Just as this thought had she heard screaming coming from the garage.

She dropped the washcloth and ran towards the door she had seen the losers disappears through. The door was locked, she couldn’t get it open. It freaked her out and for a second she did nothing but stare at the door. Emily suddenly had a flashback to seeing her mom standing at the bathroom door, screaming her father’s name but getting no answer. The screaming still continued. It tore her from her flashback as she once again tried to open the door. As soon as she did, the screaming stopped.

Emily banged her fist against the door. ‘Guys, guys are you okay’? She screamed, her mind instantly thinking of all the bad possibilities that could have happened. A loud crash stopped her from trying to open the door once more. The sounds were coming from the living room, but Emily was too scared to go and see. Another crash caused her to take two steps forward, peering her head around the door that lead into the living room. She couldn’t see anything from where she was standing, so reluctantly, she let go of the doorknob she was still holding. She took another step forward until she was fully in the door opening.

There was a vase laying broken into the middle of the room, but besides that, Emily couldn’t see anything. She walked towards the vase and bowed down, already picking up several pieces. She felt a looming presence behind her suddenly, and in her hurry to get up she felt forward into the sharp pieces of the vase. She held her hands out, and felt the pieces piercing her skin. She hissed instantly jumping up, taking a look at her hand who had instantly started bleeding. A gloved hand landed on her shoulder, causing her breath to stock. The glove was white, and the hand that was in it was gripping so tight was starting to hurt.

Slowly Emily turned around, the blood draining from her face, her mount opening as if to scream, but no sound came out. Before her stood a clown. That was the best way to describe him, though right away you could tell that he wasn’t just a clown. His mount opened so wide that Emily could see the rows of teeth inside of it. He looked like he was going to kill her. However, when he reached his other hand towards her neck, he himself stopped. His mount closed again slightly, and turned his face so that Emily could see his eyes. They were yellow.

He tilted his head, and got his face closer to her. Emily could see from the corner of her eyes that there was a poke form a fireplace, right within her reach. She could reach out and use the poke as a weapon to defend herself. As she tried to though, she felt her hands shake so much, she had never felt so scared before, and she knew she would never have the courage to fight this thing.

The clown seemed to smell her, drawing his head back as fast as he did. It seemed confused. With a gasp, Emily realized that this was the IT that Bill had told her about. A smirk spread across IT’s face. It wasn’t nearly as playful as the smirk Richie god when he tried to annoy someone. No, this smirk was pure evil. ‘Uris, huh?’ The clown giggled, and finally Emily found her voice. She screamed as loud as she could. The door leading up to the garage began to pounce, this time from the other side. She could hear her name being called, but she was too busy screaming to truly notice it. How did this thing know that? She only looked away from the clowns eyes when she heard gasps. The losers club was now standing in the living room, right in front of both Emily and the clown.

Mike sprinted forward, grabbing the poke Emily had been too afraid to reach for. Before he could swing it towards IT, he drew back, letting go of Emily. The clown kept smirking, walking backwards, not saying a word anymore. Only when he disappeared did Emily collapse onto Mike.

Stan and Eddie ran forward towards her aswell. Richie, Bill and Ben ran out of the room to see where IT had gone off too, but ultimately didn’t see anything as they returned empty handed. Emily started sobbing , the pure fear draining her of any inhibitions both mentally and physically. Mike had tried to attack IT, which meant that there was no doubt about it anymore, Emily really was send to the past. Stan, who was sitting in her right side grabbed her arm to look at the wounds the shard of glass had left.

He was careful not to touch any of the blood. Emily knew that this was because he didn’t like any of his stuff dirty, but she didn’t think about that as she hurled herself towards him, gripping him tightly. Stan went rigid, but she didn’t let him go. This was her dad, even if he didn’t know it.

She was so mad at him for leaving her, so furious, but right now he was here. Even if he wasn’t the dad she knew, he was still her dad. He still smelled like vanilla and safety, or maybe he had always smelled that way. Whatever it was, Emily didn’t want to let go of him, she had missed him so much. She heard Richie chuckle awkwardly behind her. ‘Okay, Emily, let doctor K look at the wounds’.

‘Shut the fuck up asshat’, Eddie spewed out, but he did pulled Emily’s arm towards him, taking a look at the hand himself. Emily pulled away from Stan, the tears flowing freely. She turned her body towards Eddie, and settled back against the wall once more. Eddie started pulling out pieces of shards and she cringed, but didn’t pull her hand away.

Though Stan still sat uncomfortable, and shuffled back a little further away from her, he didn’t get up and leave, he stayed by her side, even if he was undoubtedly dying inside at the blood on his shirt. It made Emily’s tears slow, at least her father still cared, young or not.

As Eddie did his best to fix her up, there was only one thing on her mind. What the hell is she supposed to do now?

#stan uris #stanley uris #stanley uris x daughter #stanley uris imagine #x daughter #My writing #it chapter two imagine #it chapter 2 #bill denbrough #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrack #ben hanscom #Mike Hanlon imagine #Beverly March imagine

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thestarsaroundyourscars · 5 years

Note

Can we get a part two of hanzier and the online meeting thing where Richie gets cut off before he finds out Mike also lives in Derry pleaseeeeeeee

It’s been a month but here it is! You can read part one here or read both on AO3 here

Richie’s phone started ringing the moment he walked out of the store, holding popcorn and other snacks in his arms. He struggled to grab the phone and brought it up to his ear in the final ring.

“Why the fuck aren’t you back yet?” Eddie asked in greeting, Richie let out a snort.

“Aw Eds do you miss me already?”

“Don’t call me that.” Eddie snarked with no real bite. “But seriously where are you? Everyone’s here already, except you and Bev.”

“Eduardo chill. I just finished picking up the snacks, I’m waiting for Bev to come back with the movies.” Richie explained, searching the street for any sign of Bev. They decided to split up to make it to Bill’s house faster.

“Well hurry dude. We’re waiting. Hey did you get my⎯”

“Fucking disgusting lemon soda? Of course I did Eds.”

Richie could practically hear Eddie rolling his eyes through the phone. “Don’t⎯”

“⎯call me that, I know. Well guess what, fuck y⎯ Shit!” Richie’s sentence was cut off when he felt something collide against the back of his legs. He lost his balance and almost dropped his phone, managing to keep his grip. The bags he carried weren’t that lucky. “Son of a bitch.” Richie muttered under his breath, staring at the snacks scattered on the floor.

“Rich? What happened?”

Before he could answer Eddie, he felt something wet lapping at his hand, he looked down to see a dog, staring up at him, head lolled to a side. “Hey buddy.” Richie said, patting the dog’s head. He wagged his tail and forgetting about the snacks, he crouched in front of him and the dog started licking his face. “Woah okay, at least buy me dinner first.”

“Richie who the fuck are you talking to?” Eddie asked, voice small and distant coming from phone still in Richie’s hand.

“It’s just a dog Eds don’t be jealous. He pushed me. Yeah he did.” He said, scratching behind his ear. “But that’s okay because you’re cute, the cutest boy aren’t you?” Richie furrowed his eyebrows, studying the dog’s face. “Wait I think I know you, why do I think I know⎯”

“Mr. Chips!” A voice called and the dog perked up, Richie’s frown deepened.

He repeated the name under his breath, wondering why it sounded so familiar. He looked at the dog again and this time it clicked. “Holy shit!”

“Mr. Chips!” The voice called again, closer this time. Richie’s stomach tightened with nerves and excitement and he looked up at the guy the voice and the dog belonged to, confirming his suspicions. “Why did you run off like that buddy?”

Richie’s mouth fell open and he stared at the guy as he kneeled on the sidewalk and clasped a leash on the dog’s collar. His eyes darted from the dog to the snacks on the floor and he frowned. “Shit did he do that? I’m so sorry man, I’ll pay for⎯”

“Mike?” Richie cut in, finding his voice. The guy looked up at him for the first time and his eyes widened comically.

“Richie?” Mike asked, his face breaking into a grin. “Oh my god.”

That grin ⎯that Richie’s computer screen didn’t do any justice⎯ threw Richie for a loop. “I can’t⎯ fuck is this another dream?” Richie asked, shaking his head. It had been almost two weeks since Bev and him had tried the chat room, since he had met Mike. He never expected to see him again in his computer, let alone in real life.

“Another dream? You dream about me?” Mike asked with an amused smile.

Richie’s eyes widened when he realized what he had said and blushed furiously. He didn’t want to admit it but he had actually dreamed that he met Mike in person a few days ago. Before he had to lie about it though, his phone started ringing. “Uh give me a second.” He said to Mike, standing up and answering the call. “Hello?”

“You hung up on me asshole.” Eddie said annoyed.

“Oh sorry Eds. I ran into a friend.” Richie said. Mike grinned up at him and Richie’s stomach filled with butterflies.

“A friend?” Eddie asked sounding genuinely confused. “You mean Bev? Because we’re the only friends that you have.”

“Fuck you Eddie, I have more friends.” Eddie let out a snort. “I do. His name is Mike.”

“Wait Mike? As in the Mike you’ve been whining about for two weeks?”

Richie grimaced, hoping that Mike wasn’t able to hear what Eddie was saying on the phone but based on his slight blush and shy smile, he definitely could. Eddie always had a habit of speaking too loud. Richie huffed, and it was him their friends complained about.

“Shut up dude. Listen we’ll see you soon.” He said and before Eddie could whine and tell them to hurry up, he hung up on him, he knew he would hear all about it later but he couldn’t care less at the moment. Mike was staring at him and Richie tried to come up with something to say but his tongue got all tied up when Mike stood up and Richie had to look up at him. He had guessed Mike was taller than him but he hadn’t thought of how that would make him feel. He tried to gather his thoughts, running his eyes over Mike, blatantly checking him out. But that did the exact opposite. “Fuck man you’re even hotter in person.” Richie blurted out before he could stop himself.

Mike chuckled and Richie could feel his eyes moving over him, he fidgeted nervously wishing he looked better. He knew his hair was a mess, his glasses askew and he was lanky, no muscle where Mike was fucking built. He was pale and his teeth were crooked and⎯

And he had Mike’s thumb running over his cheekbone while he smiled softly at him, making Richie feel like he was melting from the inside. “And you’re prettier.” He said and Richie choked on his spit, cheeks flaring. “Especially when you blush.”

Richie let out a strained laugh. “You’re such a sweet talker Mikey.” He huffed, willing his face to cool down. “What⎯ What are you doing here?”

“In Derry?” Richie nodded. “I live here. My family’s farm is just outside of town.”

“And you didn’t think to mention that?” It would’ve saved Richie a lot of time that he invested in trying to get paired up with Mike again in the video chat website.

“I tried but then the connection fell through.”

“Oh right.” Richie chuckled. “Fucking internet man.” Mike chuckled too and Mr. Chips barked, attracting their attention. “Hey buddy.” Richie said, crouching again. “I knew you looked familiar. Do you remember me?”

Mr. Chips wagged his tail, nuzzling Richie’s hand. “He might. He never takes off running like that unless he’s after someone.” Mike said, watching them with a soft expression. “Sorry about your stuff.” He pointed at the snacks, still on the floor.

Richie shrugged, gathering them and throwing them in the bag. “Don’t worry man. I just won’t tell Eddie his snacks were on the floor or he’ll go on a rant about germs for hours.”

“Was that the guy on the phone?” Richie nodded. “Is he your⎯”

“Best friend since we were in diapers.” Richie said. “I told you I was single remember?”

Mike shrugged. “A lot can change in two weeks.”

“Well that didn’t. And neither did the fact that I’m really gay in case you were wondering.” Richie said, eyes moving over Mike’s chest and broad shoulders.

Mike grinned. “Good.”

“Rich! I have the movies, did you get the⎯ Oh hi.” Bev appeared next to Richie, coming to a stop when he noticed her friend was talking to someone else. Mike waved shyly.

“Hey Bev. This is Mike, Mike this is⎯”

“Mike? Chatroulette Mike?” Bev asked, wide eyes darting between Mike and Richie. “Holy shit.”

“That’s what I said.” Richie chuckled.

“Holy shit!” She said again, louder and slapped Richie’s arm. “Fuck dude, I know you said he was hot as fuck but damn.”

“He said that?” Mike asked Bev but he was staring at Richie, smirking. “What else did he say?”

“He whined and cried for two weeks.” Bev said, Richie glared at her but she shrugged it off. “He would go through a bunch of chats pretty much every day trying to get paired up with you again. He said he needed to find the love of his⎯”

“Okay!” Richie said, high pitched and alarmed, muffling the end of Bev’s sentence but the way Mike’s eyes crinkled at the corners of his eyes told Richie that he knew how she planned to finish it. Richie’s ears felt like they were burning. He fished the keys of his truck from his pocket and shoved them in Bev’s hands. “Here get in the truck, I’ll be right there.”

She rolled her eyes but accepted the keys. “Fine fine but if you get in that car and you don’t have Mike’s number with you I will kick your ass.”

“Go!” Richie said, Mike was trying to hide his laughter behind his hand. Bev waved at Mike and walked away. “I’m⎯ sorry about that.” Richie said.

Mike grinned. “Did you really do that? Try to get paired up with me again?”

Richie scrunched up his face. “Maybe? It’s pathetic I know.”

“I think it’s cute.” Mike said. “I think you’re cute.” He smiled when Richie blushed even more. “I would’ve done the same if you hadn’t told me you were from Derry. I figured we would run into each other sooner or later. I’m glad it was the former.”

“Me too man.”

They stared at each other, smiling nervously until Richie heard a car honking loudly and recognized it. He scrunched up his face. “That’s Bev. I have to go, our friends are waiting for us.”

“Oh yeah of course.”

“Do you― uh. Would you want to see each other again? Maybe go out? With me?” Richie asked, wringing his hands together. He was nervous but he wasn’t going to let Mike go again without making sure they could see each other again.

“Like on a date?”

“Yeah.”

Mike grinned. “Definitely.”

Mr. Chips barked and Richie looked down at him. “Of course you can come too buddy.” He said, petting the dog.

He grabbed his phone and gave it to Mike. He watched as he typed down his number. Because Mike wanted Richie to call him. To see him again. To go out with him. Richie couldn’t keep the smile from his face if he tried. “Here. Call me Richie.” Their fingers brushed together when accepting the phone, making a shiver run down his spine.

“A video call?” Richie asked with a grin that Mike returned.

“Yeah.” He said, tightening his hold on the leash and starting to walk backwards away from Richie, pulling Mr. Chips along. “And if you’re lucky I will take my shirt off for you this time.” He winked and the words made Richie’s stomach coil.

“You can’t say stuff like that man.” Richie said with a strained laugh. “Now that’s all I’ll think about during movie night!”

Mike barked out a laugh, waving at Richie one final time before turning around and walking away. Richie kept his eyes on him until he disappeared. Then he started walking towards his car, wondering just how mad his friends would be if he skipped movie night, locking himself up in Bill’s bathroom to take Mike up on his offer.

Tag list: @daddyphantomtbh @yes-dillman-yes @richietoaster @beepbeeprichiellc @its-stranger-than-you-think @lemonaayyee @losers-gotta-stick-together @tinyarmedtrex @richiefuckfacetozier @sam-i-am2468 @richardtoz @s-s-georgie @reddie-for-anything @eddiefuckinkaspbrak @constantreaderfool @thundercatseddie @captainbartholomew @mirandonsky @proton-disaster-blaster @alargedepresso @purplepoisonedgem @pan-ini @reddie-to-cryy @reddieforlove @trashmouthnick @multi-fandom-wby @wheezyeds @nancynwheeler @did-someone-say-reddie@madi-personal @reddie-tozibrak @lover-mouth @atownofeggs @that-weird-girls-blog @appojoos @castielwinovak @fcngirltrxsh @spirited-marvel @fuck-the-sushi (if you want to be added, let me know!)

@inthebreadbinwrites I’m tagging you because you also requested a part 2.

#hanzier #mr chips is quite the match maker #mike flirts #richie blushes #that's basically it #part 2 #monse writes #monse answers #mike hanlon #richie tozier

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whambamcam · 4 years

Text

WHO: Cameron, @levi-st-james, and @miles-mccarthy

WHAT: Levi discovers that his brother’s been lying to him about his feelings for his sworn enemy...

WHERE: Cam, Levi, and Miles’ room, LA Airbnb.

WHEN: Thursday, 30th April.

TRIGGERS?: N/A.

Lounging on his bed scrolling through his phone, Cameron glanced up as Levi got up to leave the room, saying something about a shower. It had been hard to find alone time with Miles throughout this trip, despite their shared bedroom. Levi had been a necessary addition to their room to prevent any suspicion, but Cam was learning to take every moment he could, seeing opportunity in his brother finally leaving him and Miles alone. Scheming for a second, a grin spread across his face slowly, putting his phone down and grabbing the pillow behind his head to launch it at Miles. Bounding off his own bed, he joined Miles on his, straddling his hips. "Next time, we're getting our own room," he muttered, before leaning down to capture Miles' lips enthusiastically, happiness bubbling up in him.

Miles was lounging back on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through his twitter feed. He hummed slightly as Levi left, not really paying attention until the pillow hit him. He blinked, “Hey,” he complained, but went quiet as the other boy bounced toward him and moved over him. Miles smiled as he leant up to meet Cameron for the kiss, his hand sliding into the other’s hair as he pulled him down over him, parting his legs slightly and losing himself in the kiss.

Levi awoke to a minor headache. He'd partied a little too harty the night before and all he wanted to do was wash last night off of him. He threw off the covers & grabbed his phone - not even sending a "good morning" Cam or Miles's way. "Shower..." was all he blurted out, groggily and made his way out the door and down the hall to the right, all the while barely keeping his eyes open. Once he made it into the bathroom, he put on his shower playlist & made his way into the shower. His thoughts drifted to how relaxed this trip made him, given that opening night was approaching quicker than he liked, but he was focusing on having a good time with his friends.

Cameron laughed at Miles' reaction to the pillow, an amused smirk on his face. "Did I hurt you?" he teased against Miles' lips, running his hands down Miles' chest. "I can kiss it better." He trailed his lips down Miles' jaw to his neck, leaving a path of soft kisses in his wake. They definitely didn't have time to do anything else, even with Levi's vanity undoubtedly leading to a long shower, but Cameron could tease him a little -- leave him wanting more for later. They'd have to find an actual place to sneak off to together. Cam was getting ansty. Scraping his teeth against Miles' skin gently, he found his lips again, deepening the kiss as he ground his hips a little. He was definitely there to tease.

Miles slowly blinked open his eyes, smirking up at Cameron and kissing him again quickly before the other trailed his lips down his neck. “Mhmhm,” he hummed, scratching his fingers through Cam’s hair as he tilted back his head slightly. He groaned as the older boy rocked down against him, lifting his own hips and parting his lips to kiss Cam back deeply, trying not to let himself get too carried away but he’d been wanting to have Cam pressing him down into his bed since they’d first stepped foot in LA.

After drying off after his shower, Levi wrapped a towel around his waist & grabbed his phone, making his way out of the steamy bathroom. He looked down at his phone and realized that it was still early enough for him to take his time getting ready, but what he would see next would scar him for life. He turned the corner, opened the door to his room, and was shocked to find his brother straddling the guy that, up until this point apparently, he swore he hated. "What the-"

As Miles scratched his fingernails across his scalp, Cam couldn't help but let out a soft moan. He was getting carried away, but Miles had an effect on him that nobody else had. Caught between kissing him and wanting to pull away and suggest they find somewhere private, Cam didn't register the sound of the door opening until it was too late -- only responding when he heard Levi's voice. Shit. Cam leapt away from Miles as quickly as he could, running a nervous hand through his hair, suddenly unsure where to put his hands or how to hold his body in a normal, human way. "H-hey," he greeted shakily, face an ever-deepening shade of crimson. "How was your shower?"

Miles had barely even heard when Levi spoke, blinking as suddenly Cam leapt off him, before glancing to the side with wide eyes. He slowly reached to grab a pillow and slid it down to cover his hips. “Levi, hey...” he murmured slowly, looking to Cameron for help with how to deal with this current situation, noting how red he’d gone and letting out an awkward chuckle. “So, uh... now you know?”

Levi's face was agape & he didn't know how to react. His own flesh and blood had been keeping a secret from him for who knows how long, and this is how he was finding out. "My shower was great, Cam, how was your grind sesh with your sworn enemy?" He didn't know why he was pissed; it was probably just the shock of walking in on his brother & Miles swapping spit & grinding up on each other. "I think the real question is: How long have you been fucking Miles?"

Cameron didn't really know where to look or how to react, tugging his shirt down as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "It was -- good. I -- realise I didn't need to answer that question." He coughed a little, glancing over at Miles to try and gauge the other boy's reaction. Levi wasn't the first to know, but he was certainly the most important to Cam -- and knowing Levi, definitely the most likely to tell everybody else. "It's not like that. We're not -- fucking. We're -- dating. He's my boyfriend." He bit his lip, shrugging a little. "Officially, only a few days. Obviously it's been going on longer, but... I only asked him on Tuesday."

Miles couldn’t help but laugh when Cameron answered the first question, but bit his lip and went quiet as he realised Levi didn’t seem impressed with the situation. “Uhm, yeah, he pretty much covered it. We just- wanted to see where it was going before telling everyone, y’know?” he murmured, looking back to Levi and smiling sheepishly.

So many things were running through his mind, Levi didn’t know how to process what was happening. One on hand: he was pissed that this was how he was finding out, on the other: he was happy that Cam finally found someone. “So...this isn’t just a hook-up, then? You guys really like each other?” He asked. “When did....how....” his voice trailed off at Mile’s comment “So then, I’m the first to know about you?” He said a bit too excitedly. Finally he would have something over everyone else & prove that, just because he was the youngest St. James, that didn’t mean he wasn’t less than his siblings.

"No, it's not just a hook up. I really like him," Cameron confirmed, reaching out to grab Miles' hand and shuffling slightly closer to him. It felt good to tell Levi -- his brother was the person he was closest to in the world, despite all their teasing, and now he could share something so important with him. "Actually, you're -- third. Zeke and Clara both know, they've walked in on us... but I haven't told Hannah, or even Mom or Dad." Cameron bit his lip guiltily -- he hoped Levi wouldn't be hurt by not being told right away. At least he was the first St. James to know. "But you're the first to know he's my boyfriend. I don't know what the others think, but... that's a scoop."

Miles looked to Cam then, smiling as the boy took his hand, squeezing it gently, before glancing back at Levi and nodding. "Apparently we're not very good at this 'keeping it a secret' thing," Miles murmured, scratching at his head with his free hand. "But yeah, you're the first to know it's official. He asked me on the ferris wheel, where I couldn't escape."

He couldn’t help but admit how sweet Cam & Mikes looked together, & he could see how sincere Cam was being. Levi turned his shocked expression into one of happiness. “Wow, guys. This seems really genuine. Congratulations!” He went to go hug them, but realized he was still only in a towel. “Uh...maybe I should put some clothes on before any celebratory hugs.” He said with a laugh. However happy he was right now quickly changed at the revelation that he was not, in fact, the first to know, but rather the third. “So....wait. You told the guy who’s been thirsting after you first, then your ex-girlfriend, and I only found out by walking in on you; Were you ever going to tell me?” He was over this. He and Cam had shared everything with each other & their relationship was the one Levi valued above all. Now he was the last to know. “Y’know what? Forget it. I don’t think I want the answer to that question.” He walked over to his dresser, pulled out underwear, shorts, and a tank top, and headed for the door. “I can’t be in here right now.” And slammed the door without a second look back at his brother.

Despite his fear, it seemed that Levi was happy for them, Cameron smiling as his brother stepped forward to hug him. "Yeah, might be a good idea," he agreed with a laugh, relief seeping through him. Maybe this was going to be painless. But then he admitted the part about Clara and Zeke knowing, and Levi's body language changed entirely -- Cam's heart sinking a little. "They only found out by walking in on us," he protested quickly, dropping MIles' hand to go over to his brother. "Of course I was going to tell you. You were the person I wanted to tell most." He watched Levi as he got dressed, wanting to say more but not knowing how he could make his brother listen to him. Before he knew it, Levi was gone, slamming the door behind him. Biting his lip, he turned to look at Miles, shrugging a little. "I should let him cool off, right?" he asked, fighting his instinct to chase after Levi. "God, he's never going to forgive me."

Just as things seemed to be turning, and Miles was relaxing as Levi moved to hug them before pulling back, Cameron dropped the fact that Clara and Zeke both knew, albeit from walking in on them in very similar situations. He blinked as he saw Levi change, and Miles moved to stand. "Yeah, they only-" he started, but Levi was out the door before he could finish. He sighed as the door closed, and looked back at his boyfriend, slowly moving closer to take both his hands. "He will, it's just a shock," Miles murmured, "Give him a little time. I'm sure if you pull him aside, explain how it was all accidental that Clara and Zeke found out too, he'll understand."

As the door shut behind him, Levi didn't know why he did what he just did. Sure, he was pissed that his own flesh and blood didn't tell him some major news, but he was more upset at the fact that it felt like Cam couldn't trust him to keep this a secret. He'd been running over what Miles & Cam had said about how Clara & Zeke found out in a similar way and thought wow those two suck at locking doors. Maybe he was overreacting - he couldn't help it, though, he was Rachel Berry's son after all - but there was no denying that he was hurt. He thought about going back in the room, apologizing for the way he acted, but he couldn't face Cam again. Instead, he turned on his heels and headed out the main door of the house to cool down. He'd deal with whatever Cam had to say later on.

Cam sighed, trying not to spiral too quickly into a place of despair. Ruining his relationship with Levi was the last thing he wanted -- he loved his brother more than anything. He squeezed Miles' hands, shrugging a little. "I hope so," Cam murmured, before wrapping his arms around Miles and leaning into him. "He's also probably going to tell everyone. We might have been found out for good now." Cameron didn't mind the world knowing -- he was happy with Miles. But Levi forgiving him was more important. "We should tell everyone else. Hiding it is fun, but letting everyone know how cute you are... that's even more fun."

Miles slid his arms around Cameron then, pulling him into a hug and kissing his cheek. "Well, maybe it's okay if everyone knows," he murmured, smiling as he pulled back. "And he will forgive you. You just gotta talk to him, explain that he would have been the first you'd tell if we weren't so fucking awful at locking doors." He chuckled, one of his hands resting on Cameron's chest. "So yes, let's tell everyone. Why not? I want everyone to know how cute I am.”

#ftf.#ftf: levi.#ftf: miles.#event: 004.#rip to the st. bros :((((

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