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minastras · 1 year

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dear stranger, do you remember me too? // sunghoon

When you were sixteen, you betrayed Park Sunghoon. Or he betrayed you. Whichever it was, you knew two things for sure: 1) kids were cruel, and 2) you would spend the rest of your life trying to make up your mind. Well, until you saw him again. It was a strange feeling, meeting him in the flesh even though his ghost had been haunting you for three years.

at a glance: childhood friends to strangers to lovers, reformed bad boy! sunghoon, university au, pure angst (i received High Level Clearance from @end-hyphen to put him through the wringer sorry), ft. hyung line

words: 12.3k

warnings: swearing, mild mentions of blood, sexual harassment, and fights (nothing serious), alcohol and cigarette use

——————————

For as long as you could remember, Park Sunghoon had been the centre of your solar system, the axis around which your universe revolved. You’d known him since the day you were born. You lived on the same street, four houses apart, and as the only two kids in the area you naturally bonded instantly with each other. He was your best friend, your confidant, your partner in crime.

As soon as you both were no taller than his coffee table, you spent nearly every day together at the playground behind your street, running through the neighbourhood blowing bubbles and chasing butterflies.

“Do you think we could both fit on the same swing?” You could still hear your voice, light and flowery back then, asking.

“Let’s find out,” his equally childish voice rang back, before he yanked you into his lap and struggled to get enough leverage with his feet to push you both off the ground.

That ended with you tumbling out of the swing and onto the tarmac just by the playground, scraping your knee. You both must’ve been only five years old then, but you didn’t cry, instead stubbornly getting to your feet and ignoring the blood trickling down your calf until you were back in the privacy of your living room.

He had carried you home on his back, even though you could walk just fine, and sat you down on the sofa while he cleaned your broken skin with a tissue.

“You can cry if you want,” he had said simply, in that innocent manner only kids have.

You were with him all the way through kindergarten to middle school to high school. Neither of you had many friends; you were both quiet and shy and somewhat rough around the edges. But that didn’t matter, because you had each other.

As you grew from toddlers to precocious children to teenagers, you continued spending nearly every day together. When you weren’t glued to each other’s sides in school, he was spending the night at your house after class, or you were playing video games in his room on weekends.

You always looked forward to Fridays. Sunghoon finished school an hour after you did and he would wait for you in an empty classroom. Afterwards you would take the bus into town and waste away the rest of the afternoon at the movies or in the arcade. You’d buy fried chicken for dinner and eat in your room, and he would spend the night. In the summertime, you’d climb up to the roof and stargaze and eventually fall asleep beside him, only to be rudely awakened by middle-of-the-night summer showers.

You had never known anything else but you and Sunghoon against the world.

——————————

When you were sixteen, things began to change.

“Do you want to do something special tonight?” Sunghoon asked. You were hanging out in your bedroom, him lying on your bed and you sitting on a bean bag on the floor, listening to music and studying.

“Like what?”

He grinned excitedly and handed you his phone. “Jeongmin invited me to join him and his friends. He asked me to bring you, too.”

You read the brief text exchange and frowned. “Jeongmin? As in, iljin and leader of that gang of dickheads, Jeongmin?”

“He’s actually nicer than he seems, you know,” Sunghoon told you. “He said he wants us all to hang out.”

You gave him his phone back, incredulous. “Hoon, the four of them beat up Ahn Jinho so badly last month that he’s still in hospital. You can’t seriously be considering taking him up on his offer. He’s going to drag us out into a park and kill us.”

“I think he just wants to show us how to have fun. You know, live a little. Why else would he invite two nerd loners like us?” he asked.

“Because we’re weak, lonely, and easy to take advantage of?” you pointed out. When he didn’t respond, you sighed. “Do you really want to go?”

“I do.”

“Fine.”

He shook his head rapidly. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“And let you get killed all by yourself? No thanks. We die together.”

——————————

You knew it was a mistake the second the conversation ended, but, as you said, you weren’t very well going to let Sunghoon go alone. And he was adamant, longing for friends, and desperate for an adventure. He clung to your arm as you walked from your house to the abandoned car park, thanking you repeatedly the entire journey.

Regret set in almost instantly. For you, anyway. Sunghoon seemed to be having a blast.

Jeongmin was already there waiting for you, with a case of cheap alcohol in his hand and his three lackeys in tow. You sat in the car park watching as Sunghoon drank and smoked with them, pretending to enjoy himself even though you knew he despised the taste of both of those things.

Jeongmin respected your assertion that you wouldn’t smoke (a shocker), but continued pushing you to drink the entire night. You fidgeted under his leering gaze, only growing more anxious as the minutes ticked by and he kept trying to ply you with alcohol, kept sitting closer and closer to you, kept returning his hand to your thigh no matter how many times you shifted away. Sunghoon didn’t stop him.

At the end of the night, you dragged Sunghoon back to your house and managed to get him up to your room without waking up your dad. He was wasted and reeked of smoke, incredibly lucky that his parents would just assume he’d spent the night at yours like always. You dumped him on your bed, aired out his clothes, and mixed honey and lemon juice into a glass of warm water for him to try and stop his cough.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, already changed into some of his sleeping clothes he kept in your room. His words were slurred and his cheeks were red, but he was coherent enough. “God, my throat feels like shit.”

“Because you smoked half a pack in one sitting like you were cosplaying as a forty-five year old weathered truck driver. Drink your honey lemon water,” you ordered, opening your bedroom windows so the cigarette smoke wouldn’t linger. “And no, I did not.”

He pouted but complied. “They’re not that bad.”

You took the empty glass from his hands and pulled the blankets up over him, touching his forehead. His skin was warm and flushed from the alcohol. “We’ll agree to disagree,” you said, heading downstairs to wash the glass.

“Lie down with me,” he whined the second you came back, somehow having managed to tuck himself into your bed like a sushi roll.

You switched off the lights and climbed into bed beside him, close but not touching. “I really don’t think you should be mixing with them, Hoon. They’re bad news,” you said quietly.

He’d fallen asleep before you ever got the chance to finish your sentence.

——————————

Over the next few weeks, Sunghoon started going out on more of these ‘adventures’. You stopped tagging along, but he still relied on you to shelter him in your room so his parents wouldn’t find out where he was disappearing to. And you continued to keep your phone right by your pillow while you slept so you could go bring him home if and when he called you.

He kept smoking around Jeongmin and his friends, even though he hated it and it made his throat itchy. You had started doing your own grocery shopping so your dad wouldn’t notice how fast the lemons and honey ran out nowadays.

When you and him were together, he acted exactly the same. He was still sweet, thoughtful, and just a little bit snarky. He still stuck to you in school, still waited for you every Friday afternoon, and still followed you to whichever new restaurant you wanted to try out on the weekends. He still lit up with a smile when you came by to his figure skating practice to cheer him on, much to the chagrin of his coach.

But whenever he went out to get wasted with Jeongmin and his gang and you had to go pick him up, you caught glimpses of the person he was becoming. He was picking fights and losing his temper at the smallest things, aggressive and hot-headed and dripping in machismo. No longer charmingly sarcastic with a gentle side, now he was just mean.

As soon as you two were back in your room, however, that all melted away. He would cuddle up to you, apologise, and thank you for always bringing him home no matter how ungodly the hour. If he woke up before you, he would tidy your room as a way to return the favour and leave a snack on your bedside table.

The snack was always accompanied by a yellow post-it note which he took from your desk (you didn’t even use those, but you kept them around specifically for him) with a dumb doodle or lots of hearts or both.

You weren’t happy about this development, but you didn’t do anything to stop it. It was his life, not yours. And you weren’t really in the business of speaking up about things that bothered you anyway. You kept your head down and your mouth shut, and stayed out of Jeongmin’s way.

Until one fateful Tuesday, about two months after the first invitation.

Sunghoon rarely talked to you about his newfound friends; he knew you didn’t approve of them and he didn’t want to upset you. This particular piece of news, though, was just too exciting to keep from you. After all, you were his best friend. He wanted you to be a part of his new life.

“Guess what the guys and I are doing on Sunday,” he said. You nodded for him to continue, somewhat distracted by the cinnamon rolls you were baking together in his kitchen, not entirely sure when ‘the guys’ had become a thing. “Jeongmin’s cousin is in town, and he has a fancy new car. We’re gonna hotwire it, drive it down to the cliff, and set it on fire.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, your jaw dropping open. “What? Sunghoon, that’s too dangerous.”

“That’s why we’ll do it at the cliff. There’s nothing around there that could burn down,” he explained, like that made it okay.

If it weren’t for his completely serious tone and expression, you would have thought he was joking. You set down the mixing bowl you were holding. “No, you could get hurt,” you said, adding, “And what if you get caught? That’s grand larceny and arson.”

“The guy’s an asshole anyway,” he said nonchalantly, not listening to you.

“That doesn’t make it legal, Hoon. Or safe. I’m serious. You can’t do that.”

He folded his arms across his chest, scowling. “You’re just jealous,” he said.

“I don’t want you to go to jail,” you corrected.

“No, you’re jealous I finally have friends other than you. Like, cool, normal, friends,” he snapped, angrier than you’d ever seen him.

Never in your life had he raised his voice at you. You pretty much never fought, aside from short bouts of time when one of you was upset for one reason or another, but you always smoothed things over through calm, measured conversations. Not arguments like this.

You paused, stepping away from the counter, from him. “Is that what this is about? I’m not good enough for you?” you asked, your voice soft.

He had never once indicated he was unhappy with your friendship, with your relaxed hangouts in each other’s houses and comfortable outings to cinemas and restaurants and bookstores. But clearly he wanted something else: to be cool, normal, and have friends that weren’t shy recluses.

You trusted him. He was your whole world, and you’d always assumed you were his too.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, pulling back his words as you turned to leave. He followed you, pleading, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“I’m going home,” you stated firmly, rushing out of his house and slamming the front door shut behind you.

——————————

By Sunday evening, you cracked. You had been avoiding Sunghoon for the last two days, and both of your families had noticed. You couldn’t stop thinking about that night, if he would be caught, if he was going to be okay. There was no way you’d be able to talk to his parents without him finding out unless he was out at figure skating training, so you confided in your dad. And he called Sunghoon’s mom right then and there.

“You did the right thing, Y/N. I’m proud of you,” your dad said after he hung up, patting your head.

“It doesn’t feel like I did,” you mumbled, your insides twisting and twisting away.

“I know, honey.” Your dad rubbed your shoulders comfortingly, before offering, “Do you want to go out for ice cream? Take your mind off it? I can call off work.”

You clung to him for a few more seconds, then let go. “I just want to be alone for a while, if that’s okay,” you said, retreating to your bedroom while your dad left for his night shift at the plant.

You weren’t sure how long you lay in your bed staring at the ceiling in complete silence, numbed by guilt, before your bedroom door swung open and Sunghoon barged into your room. In your state, you hadn’t even heard him enter your house. You scrambled to your feet.

“Did you fucking snitch on me?”

He was in all black, with a graphic t-shirt over a long sleeved polo, ripped jeans, and boots. With his hair styled and jewellery on, he must’ve been ready to leave the house, because that was how he normally dressed to meet Jeongmin and his gang.

“Hoon-”

“I told you that in confidence,” he snapped, shutting your bedroom door. His eyes, narrowed in hatred, glowered at you. You walked over to him and reached for his hand, but he slapped you away, recoiling at your touch like you were a hot stove. “How could you do this to me?”

“I was worried about you,” you said, your tone begging, mollifying. You rarely saw him this angry, and never had that anger been directed at you.

“Bullshit. My parents just screamed at me for two hours. Jeongmin’s gonna be pissed at me,” he fumed. “You weren’t fucking worried about me. You didn’t want me to be doing things without you.”

You dug your nails into your palms, trying to stop yourself from crying. It seemed to work, for a while, anyway. “Is that how you see me? As a needy pest who won’t let you go?” you asked, each word a chore to get out, your eyes already stinging. Not from his words, but from the sheer contempt in his expression.

Had he really spent the last sixteen years so desperate to get rid of you, like you were a persistent barnacle on a ship that refused to leave? Did he hate you that much? How had you never known?

He took a step towards you. His eyes were cold, his jaw was clenched, and you couldn’t even recognise him. You stepped back cautiously.

“Oh, like you’re some perfect angel,” he spat through gritted teeth.

“I’m not. I just don’t want you to throw away your future. I-”

“You know what your problem is?” he shouted, cutting you off. He took yet another step forward, and you again stepped back. The backs of your knees hit your bed frame. “You’re a hypocrite. You hold everyone to such a high moral standard that no one is ever good enough for you. Not me, and not yourself. That’s why you fucking hate yourself so much.”

You couldn’t speak. Your heart was firmly lodged in your throat. For several agonising seconds, the only things you could hear were his furious breathing and your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

“I think you should go home,” you finally said after a long pause. Your voice was shaking as you held back tears. “We can talk about this when you’ve calmed down-”

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down!”

Sunghoon raised his hand to push back his fringe, but you didn’t know that. Because when his hand came up, you flinched.

He lowered his hand immediately, only then noticing that he’d backed you into a corner. Instead of shock or anger or hurt, there was nothing but pure, unadulterated fear in your eyes.

“Did you think I was going to hit you?” he whispered, stepping back.

You squeezed your eyes shut and turned away, walking to your open window and resting your hands on the windowsill. “Please leave,” you said simply, fighting to keep your voice stable as tears began to roll down your face, not looking at him.

He stood and waited for a minute, watching you. You could feel his gaze. But when you refused to turn back around, he sighed and left. You heard your bedroom door close, and then your front door a few seconds later, and then it was so, so quiet.

——————————

You and Sunghoon avoided each other like the plague after that fight, although that torture hadn’t lasted long. Within two weeks, he’d withdrawn from school and vanished. His parents told you he’d gone to a boarding school in a different town, but they didn’t say where or why.

You never saw him again.

Being in your hometown for those last two years of high school was difficult for you. Having to live just down the road from his family home, constantly surrounded by all of your old haunts, made it hard for you to get him out of your head.

After high school you’d gone to a small university to do your first year with a conditional offer from your dream school in your back pocket. You needed time to save up money, and you were hoping to secure a scholarship with your first year grades.

You’d been lucky enough to make a new friend, Heeseung. Like you, he was only in that university temporarily to work his way into a scholarship. Your relationship was initially one of convenience and comfort — neither of you were particularly keen on mixing with the other students you never planned to see again after your first year — but you quickly became genuine friends.

You kept each other motivated, and both managed to secure transfers before your second year started. In fact, you’d done so well that your then-university had begged you to stay, offering you scholarship after scholarship and full fee remissions. But you both turned them down. You had loftier ambitions.

Once you moved away to university, things got better. Of course, the vestiges remained. You still had Sunghoon’s Spotify playlists in your account, your shared arcade membership card in your wallet, and some of his socks mixed in with your own. Before you fought he’d borrowed your favourite pair of red shrimp socks, and now you were never going to get them back.

But you didn’t think about him nearly as often as you used to. He was no longer a ghost living in your head, but a will-o’-the-wisp that occasionally caught your eye when you saw something that reminded you of him.

And now you and Heeseung were standing in the foyer of your new dorm with nothing from your past but a small suitcase each, in the university you’d been chasing your entire lives, ready to start your second year.

“We made it,” Heeseung whispered to you, still not fully comprehending it all. You were really here.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my life,” you whispered back.

“Me too. If we weren’t roommates I’d be shitting bricks by now.”

The school had been gracious enough to allow you and Heeseung to live together in a small apartment within the music students’ dorm, since you were pretty sure at least one of you would have gone bonkers if you were separated. You would be sharing the floor with another similar apartment housing three students who would meet you in the foyer to help you move in.

Right on time, one of them (you presumed) came bounding down the stairs excitedly. He broke into a broad smile the second he saw your suitcases, his originally stern-looking features softening instantly as he did.

“Are you the transfers? Nice to meet you! I’m Jay. We spoke on the phone.”

You spoke up first when it became clear Heeseung was far too anxious to talk. “Hi! I’m Y/N, and this is Heeseung. Nice to meet you too.”

“Welcome aboard,” Jay said, easily picking up your suitcase before you could object. Heeseung fumbled for his own. “My roommates are just finishing getting your apartment ready. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Shouldn’t that be the school’s job?” you asked, following him up the stairs.

“This place can be a bit of a circus, believe it or not,” Jay remarked, making you and Heeseung exchange glances. When you reached the fifth floor, not a single hair on his head was out of place even though your bag was heavy as fuck.

“Thank you,” you said.

“No problem. That’s us over there,” he said, pointing to the first door on the level, “and this is you guys.”

The apartment was modestly-sized and simple, but clean and otherwise perfect. Jay introduced you to his first roommate Jake, who was sitting at the kitchen counter when you arrived.

“Thanks for setting all of this up for us. It must’ve been a lot of work,” Heeseung said, finally speaking after you elbowed him in the side (be normal, man). “You’ve been so helpful.”

“It’s nothing. Jay and I both transferred here last semester too, so we know how hard it can be,” Jake said kindly, waving away your gratitude. “Our other roommate did the same for us back then.”

“Speaking of which, Hoon! Come out here and meet the new students!” Jay called.

A third voice came floating from down the corridor. “Coming!”

When the aforementioned roommate emerged from the corridor, your heart stopped. Your blood turned to lead in your veins. Your ears began ringing, the sound so loud it washed away almost everything else.

You could barely hear Jake as he said, “Hoon, these are our new neighbours, Heeseung and Y/N. Guys, this is-”

“Sunghoon,” you finished. His name came out of your mouth, but it didn’t sound like your voice. Your hands were numb.

“Y/N,” Sunghoon said, at the exact same time.

Although he was taller now, with a broader frame, a sharper jaw, and a deeper voice, it was still him. He was frozen in shock, looking right at you, unblinking. He had on a white t-shirt that read ‘rise above’ that he’d had since the first year of high school — you bought it for him for his fifteenth birthday. It had been massively oversized on his thin body back then, but now he filled it out nicely.

Right there, as you stood in the kitchen of your new apartment, all the guilt and heartbreak and mourning that you thought you had left behind in the child that died three years ago came rushing back to you, squeezing the air from your lungs.

And in that moment you were reminded yet again of the lesson you had spent the last three years of your life learning day after day after day: movies lied.

The real heartbreak was never the big fight. It was every time after when the other person crossed your mind in idle thoughts or memories, every time you saw or heard something that reminded you of them, every time you pulled up their contact on your phone and read the distant timestamp of your final conversation.

It was every belonging of theirs they left behind in your childhood bedroom, and everything you owned that had been a gift from them. It was every food you ever ate together and every song you ever listened to together and every place you ever went to together.

It was every time they reached out from beyond the grave and touched some part of your life and you had to lose them all over again.

You looked at him, and he looked at you. His eyes hadn’t changed at all. You were sixteen once more: standing in his kitchen making cinnamon rolls, locking your bedroom door behind him after the last time you spoke because you were scared he would return, desperately running away from him in the school halls.

He glanced down at your hands, your fingers laced together to hide the fact that they were shaking. You had a habit of doing that when you were nervous. Around your left wrist was a silver bracelet, one that he’d gotten you on a whim six years ago. You still had it. And you still wore it. And it was you.

Jay smiled cheerily, oblivious. “Do you guys know each other?”

——————————

Your first week of your second year was amazing. You were finally at your dream university in your dream major, with a full-ride scholarship under your belt and your best friend right by your side. It was everything you and Heeseung had worked so hard for.

The building you lived in was a dorm just for music scholars, a small, close-knit group of under thirty students. Most of them, like Jay and Jake, also bled money.

But your experience was somewhat soured by one thing: Park Sunghoon. He was everywhere.

Of course, that was to be expected. It was a small cohort, the only new friends you’d made so far were his roommates, and you were literally neighbours.

After the day you’d moved in, neither of you had spoken a word to each other. You ran into him constantly, and you were always going to classes and grabbing lunch together, but you’d never talked to him directly. He was just always there.

On Thursday, as the five of you left a lecture together, Sunghoon politely excused himself. “I won’t join you guys for lunch today. I need to pick up something from the shops.”

So you found yourself sitting in the food court with Heeseung, Jay, and Jake. When the conversation naturally fizzled out, it was only quiet for a few seconds before Jay clapped his hands together and asked, “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s the deal with you and Sunghoon?”

You looked at Heeseung for guidance. On that first night, you’d already told him everything. He shrugged.

“Uh- well. We grew up together, and when we were sixteen we had a falling out,” you answered cautiously.

“Then you lost touch?” Jake frowned.

“You could say that,” you said, reaching for Heeseung’s hand under the table and adding, “I think Sunghoon should probably be the one to tell you the rest, though. When he’s ready.”

——————————

At Heeseung’s insistence (listen, you’re clearly still hurting over this, and it would be good for you to talk to him, at least), you bullied yourself into texting Sunghoon at the end of your first week. With trembling hands, you asked him if he would meet you in the botanical gardens on Sunday. He replied almost instantly: what time?

Waiting for him on a park bench, chronically early as you always were, you were bouncing your leg so much that the entire bench was shaking. The last time you’d spoken to him was over three years ago, when you’d pleaded with him to get out of your room.

You had drawn up an agreement with Heeseung that morning: if things went south, you would send him an S.O.S. message so he could come by and pretend to whisk you away to tend to an Urgent Apartment Matter. You even programmed your phone to text him automatically if you pressed your power button five times in a row. He called you ‘insufferably paranoid’, which you took as a compliment.

Sunghoon was a minute late, and, by the looks of it, just as anxious as you were.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

He sat down next to you, a polite distance away. It was almost like how you used to sit in your neighbourhood park late at night after you’d aged out of the playground, eating convenience store ramen together until a concerned stranger or annoyed police officer told you to go home.

You both looked around for a while before you couldn’t take it anymore and bit the bullet. “How have you been?” you asked, stilted.

“Good. I’ve been good.” He cleared his throat and rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans, nodding at nothing. “What about you?”

“Good.” You paused too, searching your brain for something to say.

“I went to military school,” he blurted out, knowing you were too polite to ask him directly. “Um- for the last two years of high school. That’s why I disappeared.”

Military school? So the rumours floating around the town had been right.

“Madam Choi kept asking me about you,” you told him after a while. Madam Choi was the sweet, grandmotherly owner of the convenience store on the corner of your street who always asked how you were doing and chastised you for eating too many snacks even though your unhealthy diets kept her shop afloat. It was the only topic you could think of that wasn’t too painful to bring up.

Sunghoon laughed at that, a sound you hadn’t heard for years. He loosened up, and you did too. Your awkwardness gradually began melting away as he told you about Jay and Jake, about his time at military school, and about all the cool spots in the city you should check out. You told him about Heeseung, your previous university, and how you didn’t know how to navigate your new university’s portal because it was designed to frustrate.

Conspicuously, neither of you brought up the past. Reminiscing was off the table, an arrangement implicitly reached between you two at some point during the conversation. Even when you finally worked up the courage to ask what you’d been wanting to ask for the last three years, you still couldn’t bring yourself anywhere close to acknowledging what happened.

“Are you still mad at me?” you asked.

Sunghoon didn’t hesitate for even a second, which made you smile. “No.”

As he continued talking, however, it became clear that he was considering every word he said before he said it. He was careful, deliberate, holding back.

“I’ve grown up since then,” he said slowly. “I haven’t been mad for a long time. Actually, I wanted to thank you for doing what you did. I could have been sitting in jail by now.” He clasped his hands together and turned to you. “Are you still mad at me?”

You were equally as assured and quick with your own response. “No. I was never mad at you.”

“You should’ve been,” he joked. “I caused you so much trouble, always waking you up in the middle of the night and crashing in your room.”

You laughed and shook your head. “I’m happy things worked out for you, Hoon. And that you got into university despite everything that happened,” you said.

“Thanks,” he smiled. Although the rest of him looked older and more mature, his smile remained the same.

“If I’d done those things I never would’ve gotten a second chance,” you mused, more to yourself than to him, but he heard it anyway.

Instantly, his mood soured.

“Okay, so did you rat on me to protect me and my future? Or because you were jealous? Because that sounds like jealousy,” he snapped.

Shit. You reached for your phone and pressed the home button five times. But he wasn’t wrong.

Yes, you had been worried about him as you’d said back then, but you were also jealous. Not of his new friends, but of his life. His parents were rich, and he had two of them. If he had gone out that night and been caught, there was a non-zero chance that he could have gotten off with a slap on the wrist.

His parents had the money to ship him off to a private military school for two whole years at the drop of a hat, and he’d been able to come straight to your dream university. If you had joined him and Jeongmin that night, you would’ve been locked up without question.

“You ruined my life,” Sunghoon hissed, his eyes now dark and his body tense. “Do you know that?”

“You ruined your own life when you were planning to commit arson and didn’t listen to me when I told you to stop,” you countered.

He set his jaw and turned away with a scoff. “I can’t believe you.”

In the distance, you saw Heeseung jogging over to you. He must’ve been hiding in another part of the park, waiting. You weren’t the only insufferably paranoid one, it seemed.

“This isn’t how I wanted today to go, Hoon,” you sighed.

“Don’t call me that,” he spat, standing up.

“Y/N!” Heeseung shouted as he reached the bench. His face fell the moment he saw the look in your eyes. “There is an Urgent Apartment Matter. We must tend to it right away,” he stuttered, grabbing your hand and yanking you to your feet before Sunghoon even had the time to blink.

The two of you ran.

——————————

You and Sunghoon had swiftly gone right back to ignoring each other, which was pretty impressive considering you were almost always together. Jay and Jake seemed annoyingly hell-bent on taking you and Heeseung under their wing — as fellow transfers themselves, they wanted to help you acclimatise — and Sunghoon didn’t have any other friends. So he was constantly with you in classes, at parties, or hanging out in your goddamn apartment.

He spent more time staring at you than he would have liked to admit. In between gaps in conversations, or when you were distracted by one of Jay’s dissertation-length speeches about some inane topic or stupid fact, he got the chance to really look at you for the first time in years. Every time he did he felt a strange ache in his chest. You were like an actor he already knew playing a character he’d never seen before.

“Dude, why would you even say that? You called them a hypocrite?” Jake chastised, when Sunghoon finally revealed the details behind your falling out in high school a few days after Sunday.

“I just can’t imagine you as that kind of guy,” Jay said, stunned. He was still trying to picture Park Sunghoon, the would-be arsonist.

Often, Sunghoon found himself staring not when Jay was rambling or Jake was telling you a joke, but specifically when you were with Heeseung. There was something about the way you two interacted that made his heart sting. You were comfortable with him, and he with you.

You knew he liked to sit on the inside of restaurant booths facing the door, and he knew your Subway order by heart. You kept track of the stock of his favourite drinks in your fridge, and he always had a spare charger in his bag for all the times you forgot to bring your own. You were so in tune with each other that you would tell when the other wanted to go home without needing to ask and built effortlessly on each other’s jokes. You even kind of talked the same.

“And then you said it again? Are you serious?” Jay groaned in frustration when he heard the park story. Everyone had noticed the considerable shift in mood between you and Sunghoon since Sunday, but no one had dared to mention it.

“They’re trying so hard with you, man. Why would you do that?” Jake sighed.

Sunghoon pulled hard at his hair, equally frustrated, and flopped face down on the sofa. “I don’t know! It just came out.”

There was a substantial part of him that kmew it was because he was scared he hadn’t changed. That he was still the kind of person who called their best friend a hypocrite and accused them of being jealous when they tried to protect him. That you could see that, and that Jay and Jake would realise it soon too.

The other day at the juice bar Heeseung bought you a warm honey lemon tea. When he ordered it, you and Sunghoon immediately looked at each other before turning away. Windows open to air out the stench of cigarette smoke. Your secret stash of lemons and honey. Yellow post-it notes on your bedside table. All the hours you spent taking care of him, even as he spiralled out of control.

You hadn’t even asked for it; Heeseung somehow knew you had a sore throat that day without you telling him. Apparently he could hear it in your voice, which was (according to him) slightly scratchy and hoarse. Sunghoon couldn’t hear a thing, though. You sounded the exact same to him.

It was clear that Heeseung was familiar with the person you were now, that he knew you, and he knew how to be your best friend. That was a skill that Sunghoon had lost years ago, and clearly he didn’t quite know you anymore.

At the park you hadn’t cried once, although he was sure the sixteen-year-old you would have. Perhaps you just cried less now. Perhaps you’d given up on him and no longer expected anything else from him but to be disappointed.

“You need to apologise to them,” Jake scolded.

“They won’t forgive me,” Sunghoon mumbled into the sofa fabric.

Jay threw a pillow at him. “No offence, Hoon, but from what you’ve told us I think you’re a pretty shit judge of character.”

——————————

You had the apartment to yourself that Thursday night because Heeseung had rented a studio to practise after-hours and wouldn’t be back till sunrise. Someone knocked on your door. When you didn’t answer it immediately, a painfully familiar voice rang out from the other side.

“It’s me.”

Dread was not an emotion you’d ever associated with Sunghoon, but it was all you felt when you opened the door for him. When you were kids he never waited for you to do so; he always just let himself in. You sat down at the kitchen counter together, side by side.

“Since when do you watch Queer Eye?” he asked, noticing your laptop screen.

“Heeseung introduced me to it,” you said, pushing a glass of water across the counter to him. His face darkened at the name, but you chose to ignore it. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Sunghoon bit his lip. “I wanted to say I’m sorry,” he started, wooden. While he’d seemed guarded and on edge on Sunday, now he seemed scared. “For what I said to you. And for- for everything.”

You sat rigidly on the bar stool, self-conscious, not knowing what to say.

“I had a lot of time to think over the last three years, and I realised I was insecure. I was so desperate to be seen as ‘cool’ and Jeongmin knew that. You were right; he was preying on me because he could tell how much I wanted to be a part of his world. You saw right through me because you knew- you know me better than anyone. So I lashed out at you.

“I tried so hard to put that part of my life behind me — I never told Jay or Jake about it, even — and when you came back I panicked. It was a reminder of all the fucked up things I did and the person I used to be. I didn’t want to have to deal with it, and I took it out on you again.

“I’m sorry. And thank you. For always being there for me to pick up the pieces. I never deserved that sort of kindness.”

He watched you nervously, waiting for a response. You reached for the rubber band around your wrist and snapped it. It didn’t hurt, but it helped to distract you. He glanced down at your hand, recognising another of your old habits.

“Stop doing that,” he chided, his eyes watering. At that moment, he sounded just like he used to when you were younger. You remembered him saying those exact words in that exact tone. Of all the things he had said, that was what made you want to cry.

“I missed you so much,” you finally admitted after a long pause, inhaling shakily. “I felt like I ruined our friendship. I never stopped wondering if I made the right decision, I- I thought I’d lost you forever.”

He wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight. His hugs were just comforting as they had been when you were growing up. He was much stronger than you remembered, although perhaps you should have expected that. He’d changed his cologne since.

“You have nothing to feel guilty about,” he told you, stroking your hair gently. When you separated his eyes were shining with tears. He laughed, sniffling, holding your face in his hands.

“Can we be friends again?” you whispered.

“I’d like that,” he said, letting you go and hesitating for a few seconds before he next spoke. “Do you know what motivated me to change when I was in military school?”

“What?” You hugged him one last time before unconsciously reaching for your rubber band. Catching this, he raised an eyebrow and glanced pointedly at your wrist. You stopped, feeling scolded.

“The last time we talked back in high school, you thought I was going to hit you,” he began carefully. He took a deep breath, suddenly unable to look you in the eye now. “Seeing how scared you were, the fear on your face, I- I never wanted to make anyone feel like that again. Especially not you. I’m sorry.”

He’d started crying. He hardly ever cried when you were kids. You wiped away his tears with your shirt sleeve.

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” he begged, clutching onto you with a vice grip. Between you and him he had always been the calm one, but now he was shaking and you could feel it.

You squeezed his hand. “I won’t.”

——————————

Something in you was repaired that day.

You were telling the truth when you said you had never stopped feeling guilty about what you did. Not being able to speak to Sunghoon after, not even knowing where he was or what he was doing, it had wrecked you.

For years you’d lived with the thought that the only person you’d ever trusted had always secretly resented you. Maybe everyone did — maybe you were a pest, a hypocrite, a loser. It made it hard for you to form new connections. Heeseung had chipped away at your defences for months before you felt safe enough to call him your friend.

But now you were sitting on the floor of Sunghoon’s living room, sharing a vodka Sprite with Heeseung while you watched the others play Mario Kart, and everything was fine.

You hadn’t spent too much time with Sunghoon alone, although the five of you were constantly together. Jake had even joked about blocking off the fifth floor from the other scholars and just leaving both of your front doors open to form one big apartment for the five of you. Functionally, it wouldn’t be that different from how you were already living.

“I’m hungry,” Heeseung piped up, pouting and nudging you. “Go buy me some chips?”

“Why can’t you go?” you asked.

“My head hurts,” he whined. If he was dehydrated, the smallest drop of alcohol could give him splitting headaches. “Don’t kick a man while he’s down.”

Before you could retort, Sunghoon handed him his Switch controller. “Hee, you play. I’ll go with them,” he offered.

“Thanks, man. Use my rewards card,” Heeseung said, handing you his wallet instead of just taking the rewards card out and passing that to you.

You used to joke that you could so easily max out all of his credit cards if you wanted to, but he swiftly pointed out that you also had a habit of giving him your entire wallet when he asked to borrow money or your transport card.

“I still can’t believe we've been in this city for just over a month and you already have six rewards cards,” you laughed, putting on your shoes.

As you and Sunghoon were walking out the door, Heeseung was still shouting, “Think of the points, dude! The points!”

The convenience store was just across the road from your dorm building, which was, as its name suggested, pretty convenient. Not as good for your heart health and nutrition, but whatever. It was drizzling slightly, but not enough for either of you to have bothered with an umbrella.

“Heeseung is so obsessed with collecting rewards points,” you joked, fiddling with his rewards card.

Sunghoon chuckled. “Is he always like that?”

You nodded. “Since I met him. You like him, though, right?”

“Yeah, I do. He’s fun,” he said. He wasn’t lying; he did actually like Heeseung. But he would be lying if he said your closeness to him didn’t bother him at all. Sunghoon didn’t want to think too much about the possible implications of his jealousy.

“I’m glad. I really like Jay and Jake, too,” you told him, pushing open the convenience store door. “I’ll go get Deungie’s chips, because he likes some weird obscure flavours.”

“I’ll get the normal stuff for everyone else,” Sunghoon said, asking, “the usual for you, yeah?”

You thought of the convenience store in your hometown, of Madam Choi, of your regular weekend sleepovers back in school. Rehearsed and practised, you two were in and out of the store in under two minutes. What did that say about either of you, that you were so skilled at buying snacks that you worked together like a well-oiled machine?

The drizzle was marginally heavier when you left. It was a short walk, but Sunghoon took off his white baseball cap and fixed it atop your head anyway.

“Thanks, Hoon,” you smiled. You never bothered fighting him when he did things like that for you; you hadn’t as a kid and you still didn’t now. He wouldn’t do it unless he wanted to, and he wasn’t the type to accept your refusals of help.

But it felt different years later, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, amused.

You quickly averted your gaze, not having noticed you’d been looking at him. “It’s just weird to have you back,” you said.

You’d had this conversation with him at least a dozen times over the last month. It still hadn’t quite sunk in yet that he was back in your life and you were back in his. That you hadn’t destroyed the life of your best friend by being a hypocrite.

Since then, you’d spent a lot of time thinking about the person you used to be: full of self-loathing and insecurity and fear that you would eventually ruin every relationship you had. Heeseung had been slightly hurt that you hadn’t told him about Sunghoon when it all happened. You admitted to him that you were scared he would think of you as a bad person.

Sunghoon smiled. “Is it a good weird or a bad weird?”

“It’s a good weird. I missed this,” you answered, holding up the bag of snacks in your hand. As was your usual routine, you carried the snacks and he carried the drinks, having immediately fallen into step.

He playfully bumped into you as you walked, though not nearly hard enough to knock you off balance. “I missed you,” he said, before reaching for his keys.

The conversation was the same, but the butterflies in your stomach were definitely a new development.

——————————

Since you reconnected, Sunghoon hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you.

“Dude, are you jealous of Heeseung?” Jay asked him one night, out of the blue, after you and Heeseung left their apartment to head back to your own. Well, it wasn’t entirely out of the blue; even he couldn’t deny that.

“Can’t I be jealous of my ex-best friend’s new best friend?” Sunghoon replied, already defensive.

“That’s not why you’re jealous, though, is it?” Jay pressed. “You’re posturing around him and you can’t stop looking at Y/N.”

“Shut up.” He was right, and deep down Sunghoon knew it.

He was never going to be your best friend again, and he wasn’t trying to be. Neither of you were the same people you had been three years ago, and you were different enough that if you met now, you probably wouldn’t have been close. You both had new friends, people who suited your current selves better.

He wanted to be something else.

“You need to tone down the staring, man. It’s getting a little too obvious,” Jake said. “Even Heeseung mentioned it to me the other day.”

Sunghoon swore under his breath. “He did?” Heeseung, of all people, noticing — had he mentioned it to you?

“For what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure they’re just friends,” Jay added, trying to be comforting.

Sunghoon sighed and finished his drink. It was a gin and tonic which he’d made so strong that it was basically straight gin with a drizzle of tonic water. He winced.

“I know, but they do everything together,” he mumbled, just barely self-aware enough to realise he was whining. “That used to be me.”

“They’re happy, you’re happy, and you guys are friends again. Isn't that what you wanted? Why focus on the past when you could be focusing on right now?” Jake asked.

“Because they trusted me for sixteen years and I basically told them I’d secretly hated them the whole time,” Sunghoon said, his voice rising. “I ruined them, and I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

Jay scowled and crossed his arms, kicking Sunghoon’s foot with his own. “You didn’t ruin anyone. They’re fine. You’re not the only thing that’s ever happened to them, and if you keep thinking like that you’ll never fully repair your relationship.”

Sunghoon stared at his empty glass. He needed another drink.

——————————

“It’s been two months since we moved here,” Heeseung told you randomly one day. You were at a ramen bar for dinner with him and Sunghoon to celebrate getting through the first half of the semester. Also, you were all out of food at home and neither of you were in the mood to cook.

“Has it?” You checked the date on your phone. Sure enough, he was right. You hadn’t even realised.

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Sunghoon said. You’d started looking at Sunghoon differently.

Firstly, he looked different. He towered over his former self, his shoulders were much wider than you recalled, and he’d lost some fat on his face, making his cheeks and jaw more angular. He wore his black hair longer than he used to and he didn’t have nearly as many dark colours in his wardrobe.

He’d always been good-looking, but you had never really recognised that before. Now, though, it was always on your mind. Now, when he smiled at you or fixed your hair after he put his cap on your head or leaned over you to plug in his laptop in lecture theatres, you got nervous.

His gestures had always made you feel warm and comfortable, but now they were also starting to make you feel shy. You’d never been particularly touchy with him even as kids — you shared beds with a wall of pillows in between you two — but now you couldn’t even bear the thought of holding onto his sleeve in a crowd so you wouldn’t get separated.

“Oi.” Heeseung kicked you hard under the table and pointed at your nearly empty bowl. “Earth to Y/N. Are you done?”

They were both staring at you. How long had you been zoning out?

“What? Yeah, I’m done. Did you say something?” you asked.

Heeseung laughed and pressed his index finger to the top of your head, pretending to push you down like a button, which he always did when he was making fun of you. He definitely knew what you’d been lost in thought about (do you know how much Sunghoon stares at you nowadays? I think he hates me).

“Heeseung said he’s meeting Jay and Jake at the studio,” Sunghoon filled you in, much more helpful. “So we can go home, or if you want we can walk around some more.” He sounded expectant, like he was hoping you’d agree to the latter. You did.

——————————

Once you saw Heeseung off at the bus stop, Sunghoon brought you to a run-down building four streets away from the ramen bar. In the hip, fashionable district of the city, amidst the trendy shops and cafés, the mould and peeling paint and water damage of the building made it stick out like a blister.

You looked at the building, and then at him, and then back at the building. “Is this an assassination attempt?” you asked.

“Trust me,” he said, pushing the rusty steel door open with his foot.

“That’s not an answer. And your refusal to touch the door with your hands doesn’t exactly inspire trust,” you laughed, but you followed him with no hesitation.

It felt almost like when you used to go exploring the outskirts of your hometown by yourselves, far too late at night for kids your age. But this time, you didn’t have any snacks with you, nor games to keep yourselves occupied.

Sunghoon made a face at you and ushered you inside. “Shut up. I’m the city native here.”

“You’ve only been here a year longer than me,” you pointed out, looking around. The building wasn’t so much a building as it was a stairwell. Stuffy, dark, and dingy, it made you feel suffocated. “I’m going to die here,” you declared, sighing in resignation.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh my god. It’s not even that bad.”

As if on cue, the door slammed shut behind you, the sound echoing ominously in the tight space. What little light that had been coming in from the street lamps outside disappeared, except for a sliver of amber forcing its way through a gap in the door frame. He cursed under his breath.

“Hoon,” you called, desperately trying to spot him in the darkness, the rising panic clear in your words. “I swear, if I die tonight I’ll never stop haunting you.”

His reply came immediately, calm and measured, reassuring. “I’m right here. Give me your hand.”

You turned around at the sound of his voice and reached out blindly in front of you, hitting his shoulder. He found your hand and took it in his, the feeling of his palm against yours somehow soothing and stressful at the same time.

“You’re still scared of the dark?” he asked, joking, trying to ease your fear.

He used to scold you all the time for always sleeping with your light on, but no matter how many articles he sent you about why sleeping in the dark was important for healthy melatonin production, you never listened. Whenever he slept over in your room, he used an eye mask.

“Shut up, please.” Your voice was quiet and unconvincing; actually, you wanted nothing more than for him to keep talking. You couldn’t see anything, and all you had to ground you was his voice and his hand in yours.

He squeezed your hand, softening his tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise it would be this dark. It’s worth it, I promise.”

He led you up three flights of stairs by the hand and walked face first into what you assumed to be a locked door. “Ow. Motherfucker.”

You cackled at that.

The room (if you could call it that, since it was barely bigger than a cupboard) was lit with a single filament light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Aside from a couple of cardboard boxes, some pillows, and a bean bag, it was empty.

“That’s your old bean bag. The one you had in your room,” you said, recognising the green fabric immediately. You tensed when he brushed past you to shut the door to the room (supply cupboard?), but you tried your best to ignore it.

“Yeah, I brought it with me. I get homesick sometimes, so it helps,” he told you, sitting down on the small pile of pillows. You took the bean bag.

“It smells worse than I remembered,” you said, patting it. He pushed you in retaliation, laughing at you when you lost your balance.

“I have snacks and drinks in this box, and comics and books in that one,” he explained. “I wanted to get a mini-fridge in here but there isn’t an outlet.”

This was exactly how you used to spend your weekends when you didn’t have to study: snacks, drinks, and reading. Except now he handed you a can of hard seltzer instead of his yoghurt drinks of yore.

“Is this legal? Does the building owner know you’re here?” you asked, somewhat sceptical. But you opened the can anyway and took a sip. It was warm, but not unpleasant.

“Of course. I’m a law abiding citizen.”

“You just jaywalked about ten minutes ago.”

“I’m generally a law abiding citizen.” He dug around in the box some more and produced a can of sangria (you despised sangria), gesturing to the room. “What do you think? Pretty cool, right?”

“Very,” you nodded, making yourself comfortable in the bean bag. You felt like you were in high school again, although you didn’t recall your spine hurting nearly as much then. Perhaps you were getting old. You needed proper back support now.

He kicked off his shoes. “Fuck off,” he laughed.

“I wasn’t being sarcastic!” you yelled, before you noticed- “My red shrimp socks!”

“Oh, right.” He glanced down at his feet and started casually taking the socks off. “Do you want them back?”

You gagged. “Not right now, dumbo!”

He used to be able to detect your sarcasm perfectly, always reading your tone with no margin of error, although it was probably unfair to expect him to still be able to after so many years.

“Come home with me,” Sunghoon said suddenly, still looking at his (your) socks. You looked at him, puzzled. “After the semester ends. We should go visit our families,” he added.

You thought for a minute and agreed. “I think my dad misses you.”

“My parents miss you too.” He leant back against the wall behind him, closed his eyes, and rested his head on your shoulder, declaring, “I’m tired.”

The room was so dark and small and quiet. His black hair tickled your neck, even though you could tell he was trying not to move around too much. You prayed he couldn’t hear how fast your heart rate had become. He’d always been a sleepy drinker, and you’d all been drinking pretty liberally during dinner earlier.

You tried to relax, as much as you could with his body pressed against yours, and closed your eyes too. So you didn’t see him reach for your hand until you felt his touch directly. He took your hand and pulled it into his lap, interlocking his fingers with yours and fiddling with your silver bracelet. You froze, your breathing shallow and your muscles tense.

“This is from that old charity shop behind the fruit store,” he mumbled, running the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. You could feel the vibrations of his throat against your shoulder as he spoke. “I bought it for you.”

“Hoon,” you said softly, your eyes now wide open. He hummed in response, still playing with your hand. “What are you doing?”

His reply was a non-answer. “I miss home.”

Tentatively, you lifted your hand to his head, stroking his hair in what you hoped would be a comforting gesture. He stayed quiet. His closeness was simultaneously the most nerve-wracking and most comforting thing. In all your life, you couldn’t ever recall sitting like this with him.

“Are you okay? Do you want to talk?” you asked, pulling your hand away, worried now.

He grabbed it and returned it to his hair, moving even closer to you. “That feels nice,” he sighed. His breath was warm against your neck, while the tip of his nose was cold. It made you shiver. “I’m fine. I just haven’t been home in a while.”

You felt terrible for never really having thought about what his two years in military school, being ripped away from his family at such short notice, must’ve been like. As far as you were aware he didn’t get to visit his family until he graduated, and you only knew that because you spent your own high school graduation period locked up in your house to avoid running into him.

Against your best efforts, the guilt came rushing back. You closed your eyes again and continued playing with Sunghoon’s hair, just how he liked it.

——————————

Two weeks later, you still didn’t know what to make of that night. You told Heeseung everything and asked him if you were going insane.

“Do you like him?” Heeseung asked as you two got ready to leave the house. You were going out to get drinks with the others.

“I don’t know,” you groaned, yanking the windows shut much harder than you had intended. He jumped at the sound, and you winced. “Sorry. I hate this, man.”

“Do you want my opinion?” he asked.

“It depends on what it is.”

He snorted. “I think you do like him and you don’t want to admit it. Why is that?”

You rushed to put on your shoes as he waited for you. “I just- what if this fucks up our friendship a second time? There’s too much history between us, right?”

“Well, your heart doesn’t seem to think so,” he said, opening the front door. The neighbouring front door opened too, at the exact same time, and out stepped Sunghoon. He broke into a wide smile the second he saw you.

Heeseung lowered his head and said quietly, “Clearly, he doesn’t think so, either.”

——————————

You were far too nervous to drink even after the forty minute journey to the bar. Heeseung’s words hadn’t left your head for even a second, and he could definitely tell from the way he kept grinning at you.

“Are you sure you don’t want any?” Heeseung asked for the third time, offering you his glass. You had the same taste in drinks, so you usually shared.

“I don’t feel like drinking tonight,” you said, again for the third time.

“Guess who else isn’t drinking tonight,” he teased, way too loud, nodding to Sunghoon and his glass of water. That didn’t even make sense.

“Shut up,” you hissed. Heeseung giggled, already tipsy, and leaned on you. Sunghoon caught your eye from across the table and smiled. If he’d heard what the other man said, he showed no indication of it. You smiled back.

Jake returned to the table, tapping Heeseung on the shoulder.

“I can’t do it anymore. It’s your turn,” Jake sighed, exasperated, collapsing into his seat. He’d been on wingman duty for Jay, and (apparently, because you’d never been unlucky enough to witness it yourself) Jay was a terrible flirt.

Heeseung picked up his glass, downed what was left in it in one gulp, and set it back down on the table with a loud thump. “Alright, here I go,” he declared. You watched him carefully as he walked over to the bar, but he didn’t seem too drunk yet. He’d be fine.

At the booth behind where Jay was, however, you saw someone else who made your blood run cold.

“Hoon, don’t turn around, but Jeongmin is here,” you began. Jeongmin was staring intensely at you. Sunghoon sat up straight in alarm. Maybe you looked familiar to him and he was trying to place you.

Jake, ever the quick thinker, said, “You guys should leave. I’ll stay and let Jay and Hee know what happened.” Sunghoon was still frozen.

“Thanks, Jake. Pass these to Heeseung for me.” You fished your keys (Heeseung hadn’t brought his own) out of your pocket to toss them to Jake, grabbed Sunghoon by the arm, and dragged him out of the bar.

“Aren’t you sober? Why don’t your legs work?” you grunted, trying to shake him to attention and pull him down the street at the same time. A passing car revving its engine snapped him out of it, whatever it was.

“Fuck, yeah. Sorry,” Sunghoon mumbled. Before you could even ask him if he was okay, what you’d been trying so hard to avoid happened.

“Park Sunghoon.”

You could pick out Jeongmin’s voice anywhere. It was low, rough, and sharp. He somehow looked identical to how he looked back in high school, if only slightly thinner and more tired.

“You. You called the cops on us that night,” Jeongmin hissed. jabbing an accusatory finger at Sunghoon.

“I didn’t,” Sunghoon stated calmly, but you could tell he was on edge. He subtly pushed you behind him.

“Yeah, right. On the one night we get busted the new kid just happens to not show up,” Jeongmin scoffed, taking a step towards you.

Sunghoon held up his hands. “Look, man, I don’t want to fight. I didn’t call the cops on you.”

Jeongmin squared his shoulders and punched him hard in the jaw without warning. The silver ring he was wearing drew a deep red gash across Sunghoon’s cheek.

As if on auto-pilot, like it was second nature to him, Sunghoon immediately returned the blow with a punch of his own before you even had the time to think. You gasped, Jeongmin’s nose cracked, and Sunghoon took advantage of the distraction to kick him hard in the knee, knocking him to the ground.

Then he grabbed your hand and ran.

——————————

The walk back to the dorm was silent. Sunghoon’s lips were pressed tightly together, his eyebrows were furrowed, and his fists were clenched like he was trying not to cry. You remembered the days when you, not him, were usually the one who needed comforting.

It reassured you to some degree, though, that he wouldn’t hide his sadness from you like he used to. You reached for his hand the second you were out of Jeongmin’s line of sight and threaded your fingers between his. His knuckles were bruised.

Wordlessly, he handed you his keys and you unlocked his front door.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” you asked.

“Under the kitchen sink,” he said flatly, sitting down on the sofa.

You pulled it out from the back corner of the kitchen cabinet with great difficulty, joined him on the sofa, and started cleaning the cut on his jaw. He winced when the alcohol swab made contact with his skin.

“Sorry. I’m almost done,” you promised, tossing the swab aside and covering the cut up. It took all of twenty seconds. “Do you want to talk?”

Sunghoon closed his eyes and sighed, dropping his head. “I shouldn’t have hit him. I thought I was past that behaviour. I don’t-”

He stopped talking. You put your hand over his and waited. His bottom lip started to quiver as he held back tears.

“I don’t want to be that person again,” he sobbed, and the sound broke your heart.

Through the school grapevine you heard about fights with kids of neighbouring schools, breaking and entering, the like. But even now, so many years later, you didn’t fully know what he did with Jeongmin and his gang. You never asked, and he never volunteered that information.

He was crying. “I let my parents down. Every time I see them I just remember how angry they were at me. I’m a terrible son. Nothing I do will ever be able to erase that I humiliated them, I failed them, I brought shame to the whole family, I-”

You pulled him into a hug, feeling how his body trembled as he fought to speak.

“You’re not a terrible son, Hoon,” you whispered, as he sobbed into your hair.

He shook his head and pushed you away. “I shouldn’t have hit him. I think I broke his nose,” he repeated, almost frantic in his insistence. It wasn’t a state you’d seen him in before.

“But he hit you first,” you noted.

Finally, at your childish response, he cracked a small smile. “Weren’t you always the one who said violence was never the answer?” he laughed. His eyes were still glistening with tears, but at least he’d calmed down.

“Usually it isn’t, but I don’t subscribe to universal codes of human conduct anymore,” you told him. “Do you?”

He paused for a bit, staring at you, unable to find the words to reply. You smiled, swiped the tears on his cheeks away with a gentle hand, and got up to put away the first aid kit. It was late, and you were both tired.

“I love you,” Sunghoon said over his shoulder, his voice still thick with emotion. He said that often nowadays, although it wasn’t something he did previously. Neither of you ever felt the need to declare that when you were younger; it was a given.

“I love you too, Hoon,” you replied, still busy trying to make room in the cluttered space under his kitchen sink for the kit.

All the traces of his crying vanished when he next spoke. “No, I’m in love with you.”

You dropped the package of sponges in your hands. Your mind went blank.

There was something about the phrase ‘in love’ that you had never really understood. It implied love was all consuming, like a physical swallowing whole of your being. You felt love for others, but you’d never felt it so much that you were in the state of love.

Until you heard it from him. And then you realised you were already there.

“Say something. Please,” he begged, panicked by your silence.

“Hoon-”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” he mumbled, cutting you off, leaning back against the sofa with a hand over his eyes.

Sunghoon was not an interrupter. In all the years you’d known him, the only time he’d ever interrupted you was during your big final fight in your bedroom, when you’d snitched on him.

You left the first aid kit on the floor and sat down next to him. He didn’t move. You tapped the back of his hand to get him to look at you. Reluctantly, he did, but only through the gaps between his fingers.

“I’m in love with you too,” you admitted.

He was speechless at hearing his words echoed back to him, frozen for a good ten seconds before his gaze flickered down to your lips.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice quiet.

You nodded, and he kissed you. He placed one hand on the back of your neck to pull you closer while his other hand, bruised knuckles and all, grabbed one of your own. He laced your fingers together tightly, like he never wanted to let you go.

Your free hand ghosted over the line of his jaw, past the bandage you’d just put on his face and down his neck to his chest, warm and solid. He shivered under your touch.

“I love you, Hoon,” you breathed when you separated.

He gave you one last quick kiss on the tip of your nose. “I’ll never get tired of hearing that,” he whispered giddily, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip.

For the first few weeks after you reconnected, both of you had tried to return to what you once were. But it quickly became clear that that was never going to happen. Even after you had paved over the road, underneath the new asphalt the old potholes were still there, and nothing you did would ever fully correct them.

You had to look forward. Sunghoon was never going to be your best friend again, not like before. You would never get back your old relationship, full of childlike innocence and void of conflict. But that was okay. You were here, and he was here, and that was enough.

“Then I’ll keep saying it. I love you, I love you, I love you,” you repeated, leaning into his side and laying your head on his shoulder.

“I love you too. So much,” he said, putting his arm around you and letting you tuck your head into the crook of his neck. “You have no idea.”

He was tired of running and hiding from who he used to be, and going on the defensive and lashing out every time he was confronted with his past. He was done torturing his sixteen-year-old self.

You and him had something new. It wasn’t better, it wasn’t more. It was just different. You had your whole lives in front of you — an endless stretch of even, untouched, fresh road — waiting for you, and it would be stupid to focus on what lay behind you. You still had so much left to explore together.

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thanks for reading <3

-minastras

#enhypen #sunghoon #park sunghoon #enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon angst #enhypen angst #sunghoon imagines #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios

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abyssaldyke · 9 months

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Bruh my 2 hr flight took SIX HOURS, four of which were spent literally sitting on the tarmac ama

#ya girl #i got to my parents' place literally 20 min ago. i was supposed to be here at 8 #we literally sat on the jet bridge for 2 hours in boston waiting for the lightning to stop and then #sat for another 2 within eyeshot of our arrival gate because the field was experiencing 300. lightning strikes. per minute.#literally nightmareish #also the turbulence was so bad the girl sitting next to me GRABBED my hand #and then was like oh my god im so sorry and i was like its okay! what is a hand for but comforting a stranger on a plane?#we did the wordle together. hope she gets to that wedding ok

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raubacam · 1 year

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Singapore kicked our ass.

It took me awhile to be ready for this post because Singapore truly did kick our ass. I'm glad we did it, we went and did all the things we wanted to do, and at one point I even cried from joy, but by the end of our 4 days there we were VERY ready to leave. The best way I can describe it is it was like being at Vegas for a week, but with no partying, just a LOT of walking, long hours trying to get things done, and little to no down time. I knew planning this trip that the first week was going to be the hardest - a lot of go, go go. It was most definitely that. In hindsight, I would've spent less time in Singapore and more time in the islands of Southern Thailand (where we are now). But hindsight is 20/20.

Okay, so Singapore....

Time to fly to the next country! We are so so excited to go to Singapore and see the crazy beautiful architecture. The airport there, Changi airport, is said to be one of the most beautiful in the world, with tons of activities and things to do, so that's our plan for the day! Hop on a quick 2.5 hr flight and spend the day checking out Changi. We leave our Bangkok hotel and taxi over to a different airport than we arrived in, called Don Mueang. This airport is much smaller, less busy, and simpler to navigate. We do the thing where we walk all the way tour gate, make sure it exists (it does) and then walk to grab some breakfast. The options are limited, but we are hungry and don't want rice, so unfortunately we have to go with Subway and McDonald's. I said, "zero percent chance we are getting McDonald's for breakfast," when we walked in... Then we had to eat McDonald's lol... Both taste different here, less greasy, even the ketchup is different, so it wasn't terrible, but I vow to try my absolute best to not eat that crap again while we are here.

We are flying Air Asia for the first time, and I paid extra for the good seats. I was worried I'd be so sick of being on an airplane after the travel to Bangkok from the US that I wanted to make the first flight (two days into our trip) as seamless as possible. Our boarding begins and we hop onto a bus to head over to the tarmac. We see lots of large planes and lots of small ones, today - we go small! Being on a tarmac is pretty cool, I think we've only ever done it once in our lives. We board and are ready to go! No naps, cuz excitement, just can't wait to be there!

Made it! We're in SINGAPORE!! Being in the international terminal, we gotta make it all the way over to the Jewel area aka the shopping/exploring area. Customs was interesting. Not nearly as bad as Japan, that we terrible, but SG had sent me an online version of an immigration card to fill out, which took me about 45 mins to complete, but it was so worth it! It is a very tech savvy country, most things are automated, lots of robots all around, so with the pre filled SG card, we were able to just scan our passport, look at a camera at different angles, and we were free! No lines! Fuck yea!! Hop on the train to Terminal 1/Jewel and we are ready to see the world's tallest indoor waterfall!!! Yes, INSIDE the airport!!!! I've seen it on instagram but I'm dying to see it for myself, its one of the reasons we came here! It's not hard to spot once we arrive. It's front and center right as you walk in.

Soooo cool.. and sooo beautiful!! We have a lot of exploring to do so we decide to store our bags in luggage storage (a godsend!! cuz those bitches are heavyyy). Walking down to the lower level we get a much better view of the waterfall, take some pics and keep walking! First, we walk through an area with tons of restaurants, smelling all the yummy smells. One of which, we couldn't pass up. It looked like weird little slabs of meat sitting in a display keeping it warm, but it smelled like HEAVEN. Better than the smell of bacon. Like if bacon and candy fucked - that was the smell. Scott is persistent, so we buy a slice.. MMMMMMMMMMMM. That shit is SO good. We nom that down in 2 seconds flat. No regrets there. Then I want some fruity tea, so we stop at a nice cafe and get a "mixed fruit tea" and a strawberry cocktail. The mixed fruit tea had things in there we had never even heard of. Both amazing and refreshing. Scott wants a snack before activities so we stop at Don Don Donki (yes you read that right) and get him some yakitori (octopus balls) and some wagya steak skewers. Both were great. Now time to do some activities!!

Scott's yakitori ->

Side note - I've never seen so. much. shopping... Ever... The amount of store in there is overwhelming. It's similar to ICONSIAM, except way less cool and more "mall" feeling. People from Singapore must LOVE shopping, because we felt like no matter where we went we couldn't escape it. You'll hear about more later in the post.

We head to the top floor of the airport (there's like 7 floors) and buy our tickets to do the things. First up, is a hedge maze - actually pretty big and kind of confusing haha. The coolest part was there was one hedge wall that had disappearing flowers. As you walked past, the flowers popped out and would disappear right after - pretty neat feature! Kind of scared me at first lol.

Next was the flower path and the walking rope net! The view up there is super cool, it goes all the way around the waterfall, which is in the center, so you get a full 360 view. Lots of floral arrangements and pretty things. Then we see the rope net! I'm excited! We go in, Scott has to change his shoes cuz you need closed toe shoes and we start the climb. This thing is actually soooo trippy. It's like million tightropes all woven together, and you have to walk across it and not die, or fall, cuz that shit hurts. It's all curved and tilted, making it difficult and fun to walk across. Walking up an incline is sort of easy but then walking down is so hard!! I had to hold onto the sides to get down! lol.. When you look down, which you had to, so you don't trip and die, you are literally looking down like 4-6 stories into the mall/shopping area. This shit is wild. Scott finishes first and I finally finish. Both of us feel weirdddd. Our equilibrium is totally off, we feel like we just got off a crazy ride and we feel kind of woozy. Super fun, crazy thing to do in an airport haha.

Next is the Mirror Maze! We walk in, pick up our foam sticks (so we don't walk into a mirror and hurt ourselves) and walk in. Again.. its soo trippy!! At first I thought the foam stick was stupid but I actually needed it! The mirrors were so clean you really couldn't tell what was real and what was a reflection. At one point I called, "Scott?!??" and he said, "Over here, baby!" and I kid you not, I turned around and there were like 14 of him and I had NO idea which one was him. They all looked exactly the same. I've never been tricked so hard in a mirror maze. There's one more little room at the end with the trippy lights, and then we're out free. Now we're really feeling woozy lol. What even just happened? Very cool experience for an airport. If you ever find your self in Changi, go experience the top floor, it's absolutely worth it.

We decide we are tired and ready to leave to head to the hotel. We go to the passenger pick up spot, call a Grab (their version of Uber) and wait. And wait.. and wait.. and wait. No grabs. It's a Saturday night at 7 and we are in the THICK of rush hour. I look around and see so many people doing the exact same thing as me, phones opened, searching for drivers, hoping to be the next lucky one to be picked. We wait almost 30 mins and give up. We've been up since 5 a.m., have been moving and traveling ALL day, and we wanna go. So we decide to go over to the taxi pick up instead. We go down the escalator and THE LINE....... Ughhhhh.. this is gonna take forever. We have no choice, it's this or keep sitting over in passenger pick up purgatory. We get in line, this time (having learned from traveling so much now) we have a luggage trolly, and it is incredible. If you're traveling and see a little luggage cart, just get it. Use it while you can. It's a lifesaver, and a back saver. We wait probably another 45 mins and then we finally get a taxi!!! Our hotel is only a 25 min ride, but Scott is so pooped he naps along the way. I am incapable of napping properly, so I admire the night time lights of Singapore as we drive along. Ok we made it! This hotel was the priciest of our whole trip, costing almost half, for 4 nights of accommodations, of our hotel budget for the whole 3 week trip. So I had high expectations. The taxi dropped us in a loop, so we grab our backpacks and walk into the doors. It's another shopping mall. With shit, EVERYWHERE. We are exhausted, getting a little testy, and just wanna lay down. We look and look and read all the signs looking for our hotel. We see one sign that says it's on the 10th floor.. okay.. so we head to the elevators, which are also far away and hard to find (just because we aren't used to the photos and symbols for things.. we're figuring it out!). Head up to 10 - walk out - definitely not a hotel, we're like at a club of some sort. We ask the lady at the desk where the hotel is and she just looks confused. She tells us to find 'information' downstairs and ask them. Okay so back down we go, except we didn't see an 'information' desk of any kind.. Soooo.... cool. I'm annoyed, I call the hotel, and in a nice way, as how the fuck do we get there. He's very nice and informs us we went in the wrong door. Of course we did. The door to our hotel is right next to the door we went in lol. Ok now we know, and we see it. Check in was smooth, they give us a coupon for free ice cream (dope) and we head up our room, having to take 2 different elevators. The room was underwhelming at first but the beds were sooooo comfy and it actually was a nice space, with an amazing view.

It's about 9 pm and we are ready for some dinner. I look at the hotel restaurant menu. The rooftop pool bar is open till 10 with last call for food at 9:30. Perfect. We rush up there, and the VIEW.... hollyyyyy... It's OUT OF THIS WORLD. It's an infinity pool with amazing views of the Singapore skyline, including Marina Bay Sands, one of the most iconic buildings there because it looks like a giant boat on top of three pillars. So cool.. We get there at 9:10 and then they inform us they closed their kitchen..... Awesome. We are dead ass tired, Scott can't even think, he's totally tapped out, and now we have to go all the way back down, over to that crazy mall thing again, and hope something is open. We reluctantly do so and are walking around, literally watching people close right in front of us. Apparently Singapore is not a late night place. We saw a Mexican food place right in front that was still serving so we settle on that, order to go and zombie walk up to our rooms. Scott eats like a couple of bites and passes out. I eat my quesadilla, which was actually super fantastic, and sleep time it is.

The next day was originally going to be an exciting day of doing touristy things, but Scott made me agree the night before to have an easier day. Which meant postponing some things. I was okay with it, I was tired too. So we schedule all those things for the following day. Instead, we make a plan to rest and eat. The most important thing on my list to eat in Singapore is their famous Chili Crab 🦀 so we make plans to have that for dinner. For breakfast, we decide to get some truffle ramen... we are both suckers for anythinggg truffle and shit yeah was it good. So much truffle, it was all over my teeth 😂. I didn't care.. worth it. We walk around the shopping mall (the one we were very confused in the night before) and it's insanity in here. It's called Orchard Gateway, and I remember reading about it being a great place to shop, but it's too much lol.. I don't even know how many levels there were, over 10.. but it also crossed over to the other shopping mall across the street, underground, yes another shopping mall. On and off the escalators, up and down and around.. we almost didn't know how to find our way back. We stopped and grabbed some Malaysian buns even though we weren't hungry because there was a massive line there and no where else, so we figured we had to.. Sooo yummy.. 10/10. We make it out to the street to get our bearings and happen to see a street of super cute & colorful houses. Let's go! It's an adorable, historic street, with flower trees and pretty decor all around, so we take a relaxing stroll down it and back. We find a plaque telling us we had stumbled on a place called Emerald Hill. It was rightt next to giant skyscrapers and malls but had such a quaintness to it, it was a nice change of pace for a minute.

Alrighty, back through the mall to go to the hotel pool. First, lets claim our free ice cream! 🍦 This ice cream place actually sells boozy ice cream and it's included! When in Rome, right?? And it's delicious. We change into bathing suits and head to the roof, grab a cocktail and get in the water. The weather the entire time we are in Singapore is rainy and crappy, which kind of sucks.. so the pool feels pretty chilly. It was a nice break from being hot, but it was still very humid and warm the whole time we were there. Luckily the breeze from the changing weather helped a ton with cooling off.

Pool is nice, I float for a bit, Scott naps (are you seeing a theme yet?) and keep the afternoon light with not much going on till dinner. It's time for chiliiiiii crabbbbb. 😻 We decide on a pretty popular place we had seen bouncing around social media called Jumbo seafood. It's a short walk, so we decide to save money and take the scenic route, then we get there and guess what! It's in ANOTHER massive shopping mall. This place is crazy.. how are there so many malls here?? We've never seen so much shopping available. If you like shopping, go to Singapore, you will NOT be disappointed.

Here we areeeeee at JUMBO! I've been waiting for this. I'm so excited. We sit, we grab a bottle of wine (half off for Chinese New Year) and browse the menu. We decide on some fried rice, scallops, the famous CHILI CRAB and some lobster. Our waitress was a funny old lady who totally conned us into getting way too much lobster. She said it was half off, also for CNY, so we were excited and said yes to it, seeing a price tag of like $21 or something like that. Then when she added it to her iPad and asked if that was okay, my eyes got HUGE because that was a per ounce or something price. The lobster alone totaled to something like $200! 😳 Ummmm... that's too much, we ask for a small portion, she is insistent.. she's gonna see us the lobster whether we want it our not. We give in and settle on a price slightly less than that 😂 I swear this lady could run the cartel. She wasn't taking no for an answer. But you know what?? That lobster arrived and DAMMNNN... It was beautiful.. and SOOOOOOO good.. soooo sooo good.. best lobster I've ever had in my life, by far.. I liked it more than the chili crab actually.

Let me show you how good it was by showing you a Before and After of Scott. This is before:

And this is after:

Couldn't breathe, couldn't move, and couldn't be happier. There was no way we were finishing all that so we picked whatever we coldn't fit in our stomachs, threw it in the rice and took it home. Lobster crab fried rice for leftover? Hell yeah. Nothing left to do now but digest and sleep.

Day 3 of Singapore! Today we had to Gardens by the Bay - one of the other main reasons why we came to Singapore in the first place. We buy a tourist pass we have used before and really liked, called the GoCity Pass, because it gives you major discounts on a lot of things by paying upfront. Gardens by the Bay is included, and we are excited! We decided to take the train system because its way cheaper than the expensive taxis and it's not a long trip, so we head down to figure out how to navigate. Singapore's train system is actually quite nice. The trains are air conditioned.. a much needed break from the humidity, the signs are clear, it's extremely clean (its very clean everywhere actually) and very large, so you never feel crowded. At first, we were grateful for the ease of the train. To pay, you don't even need to buy tickets, you can simply swipe any tap to pay card and it just charges it when you tap out. So smart and convenient, everywhere should operate like this. We commute to the gardens and head to the ticket counter. Most attractions are included but the OCBC skyway and Observation Deck aren't, so we purchase these additional tickets.

**One thing we def fucked up on was we left the house too early. We purchased those two extra tickets because we wanted to be on them during the light show of the Supertrees (a famous attraction of Singapore.) The light show is at 7:30 pm and we left the house at 10 am. 😂 That was a big mistake. Being out and about that long, on our feet the ENTIRE time, was difficult. We were just so excited to get going in the morning, and we are on an early schedule waking up around in 6 or 7, we couldn't help it.**

First attraction is the Cloud Forest. They have an Avatar themed exhibit going on right now so we the sounds are very cool, there is "bioluminescence" in different places, you get to create yourself as an Avatar and even fly your own banshee! Cute and touristy, but the flowers and waterfalls and architecture is the real star. We travel through 5+ stories of lush greenery taking escalator after escalator. It was so nice walking around just slowly, taking pics of flowers we've never seen and enjoying the exhibit. Second exhibit was the Floral Dome. It was slightly underwhelming compared to the Cloud Forest, but still nice to explore.

*Side note - there was large fans on the ceilings for circulation and I kid you not, the brand was called "Big Ass Fans." 😂 😂 *

Next was Floral Fantasy, so we follow along the map to go find it. We walk.. and we walk.. and we walk.. and then it rained so we sit for a moment, plus we have lotsss of time to kill lol, and then we walk some more, think we may have past it, are confused and then figure out nope.. its just more walking to get there. If you're ever confused or lost in Singapore, just keep walking. You'll find it.. It's just spread out as fuck so just keep walking lol (and wear comfortable shoes.) Floral Fantasy was cool, a much smaller building with brightly colored flowers all decorated and displayed in different ways. We sit for awhile in there, enjoying the soothing music and break for our little tired feetsies. We still have tons of time to kill, like 4 hours at least, till the light show, and nothing left to do here, so we decide to leave and cross another thing off our bucket list while we wait. We decide to head to the Raffles hotel and get a true, OG Singapore Sling! Royals and celebs alike have gone through here to experience one of the oldest bars and try one of the country's name sakes delicious cocktails. We take the train there and find the Long Bar. We head up the stairs and womp womp, there's a line. That's alright I guess.. time to kill right? We wind up meeting this adorable group of mother, father and son, who are from Newfoundland, Canada, so they are super nice. We tell a little about our stories and they share a little of theirs, as they are finishing a 2 month long trip around Asia. The older couple said they used to go have Singapore slings together when they were 19 years old and "maybe have too many." 😂 You can feel their love and they give us a tiny little pin of the Canadian flag, she gives them out to all the people she connects with while she travels the world. So cute. We immediately put it on our bag and are so grateful for this little moment. Next, its our turn for a spot in Raffles! The hostess asks if bar seating is okay an we say absolutely. She sit us RIGHT next to the famous green cocktail shaker and says it's the best seats in the house. Love it. We've seen it on TV and now we are right there next to it!!! We crunch peanut shells under our feet as we sit down, as the tradition is to pick peanuts right there and throw them right on the floor. Don't mind if we do...It's a stunning bar with all the old charm and extremely expensive, rare liquors. We of course, as you do at Raffles, order the famous Singapore Sling. We watch the bartender make like 20 of them at once and then he delivers ours... mmmmmmmm soooo good!!!

This is normally a $38 cocktail but it's included with our GoCity Pass, luckily lol cuz damn that's expensive. It might be one of the best cocktails I've ever had though, and that's saying something coming from an ex-bartender. We decided to try one more each, and are not disappointed. I get the Rosella Sour and Scott gets the Straits Cup. We both don't know which one we like more. Fantastic drinks. They better be for the price lol. A hundred tiny little peanuts later, (the smallest peanuts I've ever seen) we decide to leave there, grab lunch and then head back for the light show.

Another thing Singapore is famous for is their Hawker centers. Singapore is a relatively expensive country, but one way the locals have combat the high prices is by bringing cheap street food into places called hawkers, which is like a covered street food hall. I google the best ones around, and find one in Chinatown, so we decide to check it out. We take another train, up down escalators, changing lines and all that, and make it to Chinatown. At every train station there is multiple exits, and because we have no idea what we're doing, its always a gamble picking one. We head out and wind up in a place called "people's market," or something like that. There is a smell here... not a good smell.. like if dirty, sweaty ass and old trash combined, that would be it. I say "WTF is that?!?" Scott doesn't know for a moment, then realizes... its durian. The stinkiest fruit there is. I'm telling you that shit STANKS. And it's everywhere. Now I see why they don't let you bring it in airports or hotels, you can literally be fined for it. It's awful. I'm super turned off, we walk a bit longer to the hawker center but I'm not feeling the vibe. This isn't a tourist friendly area of Chinatown. I feel super out of place, and it stinks, not exactly where I wanna get lunch. We find the hawker center and walk around for a second but it looks like I'm going to get a disease if I eat here so I confirm with Scott, vibes not right, we gotta get going, and he agrees. We keep walking (and walking and walking) and find a more suitable place to eat, but it's HOTTT.. and there's no AC.. we also tried to avoid getting Singapore dollars out cuz we didn't wanna pay the ATM fees, so we had to find a place that accepted Visa. We're getting really hungry at this point, it's rainy, we are hot, I'm annoyed and we are both short.. we need to get off our aching feet, and we need to eat something. All the walking really takes it out of you. We find a place that looks good enough, we can't walk anymore, and we sit at a table under a fan for some humidity relief. Problem is.. it's SOOO loud. Between the table next to us, a bunch of drunk dudes, and the speaker BLASTING right above our heads, I'm about to get a headache in like a 60 seconds. We decide to move tables, and move over where it's more bearable. I think the bartender caught the vibe, and changed the music to something not so brain piercing. They actually started playing old American music videos like Bon Jovi and Michael Jackson, so the vibe changed to be pretty good. Scott gets too much fried shit, and feels like of sick after, but I share a part of my curry quesadilla with him and that helps his belly a little, and then we are out of time and need to head back to make it to the light show. (Now we know exactly how much walking we are gonna have to do so we know how to time it.)

We take another train, or two or three, taking what feels like our 40th escalator of the day. We have been turned around so many times taking these trains and navigating the day that I feel like I don't even know which direction is up anymore. We get back to the Gardens and head to the Observation deck. Of course it's still raining, so they have the outdoor parts, including the OCBC skyway (the coolest part) closed for inclement weather. I ask if they will reopen it if the rain calms down and they said yes, but no guarantees. I still have hope!! We paid an extra $50 for this so I really don't want it to go to waste, plus I've been dreaming about doing it!! We go to the top, indoor part of the Observatory and wait patiently, luckily getting to sit. We are so tired, and barely hanging on, but I know it'll be worth it. About 20 mins before the light show, the rain sort of subsides, and the girl walks around and unlocks the door!! YESS!! She says the skyway is unlocked too, but we have to hurry!!! So we run up to the top deck, take in the 360 views for a moment, ask. couple to take our pic and run down to get to the skyway. We run over, head up the elevator, and walk around it, now it's getting darker and they are turning on all the lights of the Supertree Grove, which is beautiful by itself, even without the light show. I'm soo happy. 😊 The skyway is sturdy on the sides and very thin and swings as you walk from one end to the other, freaky feeling in the wind!! We see the terrible dark cloud coming directly our way and just keep our fingers crossed it lasts another 10 minutes without dumping! We see the employees start to shuffle people off the thin part, over to the sturdy parts, and they are waving their lights, trying to get us all to go back down. The light show is literally 6 minutes away from starting, and they keep pushing, but we keep waiting, hoping to be the last ones left up there to see it, but the rain gets worse, and they call it, forcing everyone down to the ground level. Honestly, the skybridge was so cool, and I got tons of pics of the trees, so I'm not really that disappointed. We can still see the light show, just from the ground level rather than being up in the trees themselves as they light up. We pick a spot to stand, and the show begins!! It's called a 'tour through Asia,' and had many types of music, with the tree lights dancing in crazy patterns and lit up all kinds of beautiful ways. It was a once in a lifetime moment. I couldn't help but think that there are so many people in the world who will never be able to see this, and how spectacular it was. I felt so lucky, I got teary eyed and so in the moment. It really was magical. If you can, go see it, it will blow your mind.

Next we head up to the veryyyy top of Marina Bay Sands where they have their famous infinity swimming pool and multiple bars. Included with our GoCity Pass is a free drink at Ce La Vie, one of the bars. We walk over there and try to figure out where it is and how to get there. I am still like cry laughing from joy from the Supertrees, and I'm so excited to watch the second show (there's two every night, an hour apart) from the rooftop. We go up to the 57th floor of Tower 2, body feeling like its buzzing from serotonin, and find it was the wrong tower, we need to be in Tower 3.. okay.. we shoot down to floor one again and walk over to the other tower. The elevator is so fast you kind of feel sick going up and down that fast. Up the third tower we go. Up 57 floors in 15 seconds again. We see Ce La Vie, get really excited cuz its perfect timing and the second light show is about to start, only to be SUPER let down, because they "have a very strict dress code" and men must be wearing closed two shoes. Scott was wearing sandals, so we weren't allowed in. SO disappointing and such a let down after such a high. Would've been nice to know before hand so we didn't waste this time getting here. We reschedule for the following day, even though we weren't planning on coming to this area again, because if you cancel or no show they charge you $50. Are you fucking kidding me??? What kind of bullshit is this. I was so pissed. Whatever.. now we have to come back tomorrow to get our money's worth out of the GoCity pass. Maybe it'll be worth it. We head down, take another few trains and a million more escalators and walk a billion more steps, and we make it back to the hotel. What a fucking long ass day. I'm hungry but both of us are too tired to do anything or try and find any food, so we don't, and we just pass out. We really can't take too much more of Singapore, and the trains and the walking, but we have a couple things to do tomorrow to finish out the pass. Sleep and this comfy bed are very, very needed.

Day 4 of Singapore, the final day. All we have planned today are the rest of the things on the GoCity pass we haven't had time to get done, including an authentic tea drinking experience and the Night Safari. But first, breakfast.

So I mentioned how Singapore doesn't have much partying. Everything closes around 9 or 10 at the latest. No alcohol is allowed to be sold after 10:30 pm, unless you are in a club that has special permission, which aren't common. Well apparently they don't have an early morning crowd either, because nothing opens until 11. We looked and looked and looked for places to get some breakfast and there was no options. We both couldn't take another train, they were driving us nuts. And our FEET 🤕. The day before we had gotten the hotel buffet breakfast and it was super disappointing, and so expensive. It was $90 for crap that didn't taste good and hurt our stomachs, it was a huge fail. I was surprised with how nice the hotel was that that was their breakfast standard. We weren't gonna make that mistake again, so we had to find something elsewhere. In all the freakin shopping malls there was NOTHING open.. I couldn't believe it. Everywhere we tried to order from (cuz google said it was open) wasn't for one reason or another. This day isn't starting well. We finally find a cafe that's a short walk away and head there. The workers were sassy, and we weren't sure at first if they actually were serving breakfast or not because no one else in the cafe had anything but pastries. Luckily they were, so we ordered. It was expensive but at least it was good. A salad, two breakfast Sammies, a pastry and two coffees later, we were satisfied. We still haven't recovered from the past couple of days, our bodies were really sore, and our brains were really tired. Our reservations for tea were originally at 12 pm, but we needed a nap.. REALLY badly.. Scott calls and changes the reservation to 3 pm, thank god. We head back and I am actually super ready for a nap too, for once. Scott's snoring was excessively disruptive the night before, so I had little to no sleep, and to say I needed it was an understatement. I practically fell asleep before my head hit the pillow.

Alrighty, time for tea! We go to catch (another) train (and escalator and train and escalator) back to Chinatown. We are back in the same train stop as yesterday but this time we take a different exit. Man I wish we had taken this one yesterday... its SO much nicer, it looks like a place to find some great authentic food. This time we are just passing through - oh well, on to tea. We find the tea house, called "Tea Chapter." It is one of the oldest tea houses in Singapore. Queen Elizabeth II and Price Charles actually had tea there as well. Photo below for proof 😝 The lady gives us cute, short tour of the building, asks what room we would like, we pick a Japanese style tea room, and we sit down. She says she is going to run to get our tea set. Cute!

She comes back with a small tray of tea things and a pot, turns on the hot water, and shows us how to properly taste tea. First, you rinse all of the tea drinking vessels with hot water to make them warm. Next, you use the bamboo tweezers to grab the cups and pour out the hot water. Next you use the bamboo scoop to put the tea in the small pot. Fill with hot kettle water, wipe off the bubbles on the top, and close the lid. Wait 20 seconds, then pour from the small pot into the large, ceramic pot. to cool. Pour into your tea cup and drink it in three sips. Ladies, pinkies and ring fingers out! Men, pinkies and ring fingers curled in. and that's tea! Do this several times over and over, adding 5 seconds for steep time with every pot. The tea was their signature oolong, the same the queen was served! Very yummy. We decide to get one more kind and enjoy the experience a bit longer. A bunch of school children show up for their tea learning experience, some bowing their heads to us and they pass us, some giggling uncontrollably. You can tell they are excited, its pretty cute to watch. The tea is served with nuts and little tea cookies to nibble on. All in all, a very cute, good experience. 🙂

Time to head home again, we have a bit of time before the night safari, so we choose to not stay out and go back home. Catch another few trains, no big deal. We need to change before the night safari, because right after we are heading to Ce La Vie for a second attempt at claiming our free drinks, so closed toe shoes required for Scott! The Night Safari is the worlds first nocturnal zoo. So you get to see a lot of animals out and about that you normally wouldn't. There is a tram you can hop on and it gives you a 40 minute tour, up close and personal of the animals. So we hop on that! With making our Ce La Vie reservation, that's pretty much all we have time for here. But I'm okay with it because its mosquito hour and they LOVE me, so I'm not trying to walk around and get eaten alive. The unfortunate thing is the commute to the Night Safari was an hour including... you guessed it, TRAINS! and a bus as well. So an hour there, 40 min tram, hour commute back.. lol whatever. It was cool experience, but I was ready to leave Singapore. The busy-ness, the constant train taking and walking, it was all getting to be too much. I wasn't really enjoying myself anymore. I missed Thailand, and I just wanted to go back. Before I can, we have to make one more stop - fucking Ce La Vie. We train back and head right back up to Tower 3, 57th floor. We are right on time for our reservation but they take 15 mins to seat us, at 9:15 at night. It's so pretentious there we barely even wanna be there. We just want to get our moneys worth. We are seated at a bar table, totally fine, and order some Aperol Spritz's to start. They weren't nearly as good as mine. 😋 Then we decide to get some small food items including mashed potatoes, ravioli, and broccolini.

The food was actually great. Elevated, not even disappointing for the amount of money we were spending on it, flavors were good and unique. We were happy. We get our "free" glass of wine, down it all, and are ready for the check. The check takes awhile as they have to do the GoCity Pass discount, and the bartender doesn't have much going on, but he notices us looking at his techniques. He did a really cool trick I've actually never seen before, where he spun a soda water can on his palm, it suctioned to it somehow, and he could pour it as a topper in a drink open faced and upside down. Hard to describe, but a very cool trick, so we clapped and said neat! This peaked his interest in us. He asked if we were on holiday, we said we were on our honeymoon and he perked up even more, saying "ohh congratulations!!" Then to our surprise, he sent over two chilled lemony shots and another round of wine, on him. So nice!! We finally got something for free for our honeymoon!!! Shots were yummy, wine was tasty. It was a nice, poetic way to say "Ce La Vie" to Singapore. Back to get on one more set of trains, and we can finally be done with them. We are READY for island life. Ready for our days to slow down. Ready to get back to Thailand. Ready to leave Singapore, just ready. Tomorrow - we leave early in the morning! We wake up, sore as fuck. Pack, and decide to opt OUT of taking the train and take a taxi instead, well worth the money. Good bye Singapore, hellooooo Thai islands. 😎🌴

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asp1990 · 2 years

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Day 17: Saturday July 9th – Monday July 11th, 2022 [FINAL DAYS]

Breakfast: Coffee and toast / pizza pocket / cinnamon scroll Lunch: Margarita pizza and mimosas / chicken baguette Dinner: Cheesy chicken with potatoes and veg / lamb with potatoes and spicy veg

Steps: 12, 480

Andrew had booked an apartment close to the airport so wasn’t at our apartment for the last night. Amara had an early flight, so she left at 6am while Tim and I were still asleep. We’d settled up our Splitwise spending the night before and it was lovely to get $300 AUD back from Amara and $143 AUD back from Andrew for joining our accom. What a delight! I’d done most of my packing the night before, so had a long shower, 2 slices of toast and then it was 10am and time to checkout.

With luggage to drag behind us, there wasn’t much we could do, so we just walked to the nearest cafe and had a coffee. I called Dad while Tim played on his phone and then Jane joined us. While Jane had a coffee, Tim went off to try the last thing on his to do list - fermented shark. He ended up going back to the Dick Museum as we had seen it on the menu at the museum cafe but not many other places. When he came back he was chewing gum and said that fermented shark tasted like shit. He was glad to have tried it though.

We had 3 Airbus tickets booked for 12pm so waited at the bus stop at 11:50am. Hoards of people followed us, but they were getting on a day tour. At 12:15pm, our bus still hadn’t arrived and we were contemplating getting a taxi. The shuttle arrived at 12:25pm and we thought that was our ride to the airport, but instead it was a 3 minute drive to the bus depot where we got on a charter bus. The drive was 45 minutes and Tim slept most of the way. I deleted some of the seconds from my travel video and looked out the window.

When we arrived, the luggage check in was an absolute circus. We followed the TV list and then got sent back to whence we came. We lined up for 45 minutes in self-check in after printing luggage tags then cruised through security in 3 minutes. Jane then went to the business class lounge (lucky) while Tim and I sat at a restaurant and shared a pizza and mimosas.

We walked 20 minutes to the terminal and were still in line to get a bus to the plane at 4:07pm when our flight was meant to depart at 4:10pm. We waited another 15 minutes, then got on the bus and waited another 5 minutes for it to leave. We were lucky to have exit row seats on the flight and the seat next to me was empty. Two wins! I felt so drowsy on take off that I had a wee nap. I then spent the rest of the flight watching The Circle on my iPad.

We arrived at Heathrow at 8:45pm and were first off the flight. We had to walk through all of terminal 2 to go up an escalator then down another escalator so that we could get a 15 minute transfer bus to terminal 4. Hooley Dooley. There was a woman on our flight who was rushing to get her connecting flight to Israel and she ran to the security check where we arrived 5 mins later. We cruised through security and got to our gate to find out that our flight had been delayed by half an hour. We had nothing to do but sit down and wait.

We boarded at 10:30pm and when we scanned our boarding passes the machine flashed red. Our luggage wasn’t registered as being on the flight. The woman checked our luggage receipt and updated our details in hopes that they would be popped on board before take off. Once on the plane, we had a spare seat next to us again and a 1hr waiting time on the tarmac. Amara messaged us to say that she’d made it to Spain, but that Heathrow had lost her luggage. Zac messaged and said that he was stuck in London until the next flight to Melbourne on the 11th. What an absolute circus. I had cheesy chicken with potatoes and veggies for dinner and watched Turning Red. After that, I tried my best to sleep while we had such a luxurious amount of space.

Our transfer at Abu Dhabi was relatively painless - we got off the plane and onto the final one within 30 minutes. I checked on our bags and we were told that they were on the plane, which was a relief - I hoped it was true! We were seated in the back half of the plane where there was less leg room and way more children. One of them cracked it before we’d even taxi’d out which felt like an omen for the 12 hour flight. I surprisingly slept about 6-7 hours on the flight. I watched Moana & Encanto while eating. The meals were average, but the cinnamon scroll we got for breakfast before landing was delish.

We cruised through customs and duty free and had to wait about 30 mins for our luggage. It didn’t come out. The rest of our flight slowly cleared and we were left without our stuff. We went over to the service desk, reported our luggage missing (luckily we had taken photos of them) and were then told to wait 24 hours then call to follow up.

Then it was Uber to Tim’s, drove myself home and waited for Morgi to get home from Perth.

What a trip! Until next time X

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 3 years

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How The Mighty Fall (In Love) | JJ Maybank

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Requested: Yes/No

@sarahmaybank : best i got is enemies to reluctant allies to friends to lovers with jj, season 2🤷🏼‍♀️

A/N: Thanks, my love! It was a tough one, but I loved writing this!! Hope you enjoy reading! I tried making this as gender neutral as possible! Let me know if I slipped up somewhere because I do write from my own perspective aka someone who identifies as a woman with she/her pronouns...

Pairing: JJ Maybank x gender neutral! Shoupe!reader

Warnings: Physical fight, talk about death,

Words: 6,580

Being Shoupe’s kid always brought all the prejudices. Everyone always thought I was the good kid, the one who obeyed the rules and never broke any of them. I was the goody-two-shoes, the straight-A kid. No matter how much I tried to prove them wrong, kids my age never seemed to like me because of who my father was.

“Here’s your dinner, dad,” I said, handing my father the food I had prepared him. He had been working for the last twenty-four hours without much of a break during this manhunt of alleged murderer John B Routledge.

Dad and his colleagues were crowded around a microphone, presumably to communicate with John B and Sarah, who’ve fled from the cops on the Phantom, Luke Maybank’s boat.

“Ward Cameron, do you hear me?” John B’s voice sounded through the radio.

Ward lurched forward, gripping the device harder. “Yes. Yes, son, I’m right here. I’m right here. Please, bring her back, okay? We’ll work it all out when you get home.”

“You killed my father!” My breath hitched in my throat. “You framed me for a murder I didn’t comit. You took everything from me! You took everything from me. I’m still here. And I swear to God, Ward, I will come back one day and take what’s mine. So you listen to me, alright? I’m coming for you! I’m coming for you.”

Suddenly there was radio silence and the world around me stopped spinning for a moment. That was my childhood friend out there, in a storm on a boat and now there was nothing but silence.

My dad glanced over at me before leaning over and pressing the button to talk to his colleagues through the radio. But I couldn’t hear a thing he said. The loud beeping in my ears was deafening.

Ward Cameron killed John B’s dad.

And John B didn’t kill Sheriff Peterkin.

I knew that much. I knew it and I was going to figure out who killed Sheriff Peterkin. My second mom. The person who taught me everything. I was going to figure out who took her from me and make them pay for what they did while proving John B’s innocence. I owed him that much.

It’s been months since Sarah and John B died in the storm during the manhunt. Months of people whispering about how John B was a killer and how it was a good thing he was dead. “Justice served”, they said.

I didn’t believe it whatsoever. And it sickened me that people would just assume the boy had killed the woman who’s been nothing but sweet and kind to him. I knew she was helping him with the whole foster care thing. I knew because Sheriff Peterkin was like a mother to me. The days I spent at the station when my dad was working late, she talked to me and helped me out with homework if she herself didn’t have too much work to do.

I had spent months coming up with theories and crafting my own murder board with all the strings and pictures I could find. Something was missing. There was someone on the tarmac that day who was unaccounted for by the police. I was so close to figuring it out too, but then school started back up and dad wanted me to focus on that.

People around the Pogues were whispering. Every student at Kildare High knew John B’s friends helped him escape, and they scowled and whispered, saying they were glad that the murderer was dead. Sheriff Peterkin’s death was pretty devastating to the community, but it hurt me even more some of them said they were glad John B was dead.

“Oh shut up, Trevor. You don’t know shit,” I murmured to the boy sitting next to me before the bell rang and signalled the start of our first period. I scrambled up and hurried inside behind the three remaining Pogues. They didn’t acknowledge me and they never would. Though I knew I had to somehow ask them if they knew anything about what had happened on the tarmac that day.

And maybe today was the perfect moment for that.

In history class, while I was doodling away in my notebook, the chiming of phones snapped me out of my daydream and back to reality. I glanced around the room, much like Mr. Sunn did. My eyes landed on the blonde boy in front of me, who moved from his chair and snuck towards his friends. All three of them stuck their phones together, looking at something on their screens. It didn’t take seconds before JJ darted out of the classroom, quickly followed by Kiara and Pope.

Mr. Sunn dashed after them, yelling at them in the hallway to come back to his class, which I took as an opportunity to sneak out behind him and take a quick detour to the courtyard where JJ, Kiara and Pope were all hunched over their phones.

“It’s him,” JJ said, smiling like a toddler on Christmas day.

It warmed my heart seeing that boy so happy. He had had a pretty tough year last year, so seeing him smile like that made me happy too. Even though I wasn’t friends with any of them, I somehow felt a connection to them. Especially JJ. His mother left him, too, much like my own.

I watched the Pogues hug excitedly, my eyes watering at the sight. When they broke apart, I quickly wiped the tears that threatened to roll and dashed down the small flight of stairs.

“He’s alive, isn’t he?!” I asked, capturing the Pogues’ attention.

JJ frowned, stepping away from his friends. “And why do you care, Little Shoupe?” he sneered before brushing past me towards the picnic bench in the middle of the court.

“Because I know John B didn’t kill Peterkin and I know Ward Cameron killed Big John Routledge,” I confessed. Though JJ shook his head in disbelief, the two other Pogues seemed to be interested enough. “I’ve been trying to figure it out for the last few months. Something happened on that tarmac that Ward Cameron is trying to hide from the cops. There’s someone unaccounted for who saw everything… Someone who might’ve killed Sheriff Peterkin, but I can’t figure out who…”

The Pogues exchanged glances before Kiara spoke up. “Rafe. Rafe Cameron killed Sheriff Peterkin.”

I gasped in disbelief. “Of course,” I muttered and started to pace. “Of course. Ward had kicked him out before John B moved in there and then suddenly, he’s back at Tannyhill right after the incident. Ward is covering for Rafe. It all makes sense now.”

“Wanna help us prove his innocence?” Pope questioned, eyebrows raised.

JJ groaned. “Are you serious? This is Shoupe’s kid we’re talking about!”

“But unlike my dad, I wanna lock up the person who killed Sheriff Peterkin instead of an innocent sixteen-year-old boy,” I reasoned, which seemed enough for Kiara and Pope, but not for JJ.

For days, Kiara, Pope, JJ and I tried to figure out a way to clear John B’s name. Most of it became a blur to me. Every day went so fast and none of it seemed real. From spying on Gavin and trying to blackmail him into a confession to watching Ward kill the guy and trying to convince my dad of Ward’s guilt. But of course he didn’t believe us. Dad had been buddies with Ward since forever. He wasn’t going to believe his best bud was a murderer.

We were pretty much at a loss. None of us really knew what to do. Except JJ, who thought it would be a great idea to put a gun in Rafe’s mouth and wait until he started squawking.

“Before you go and do that, JJ,” I chimed in, “I’ll go and talk to my dad and–”

JJ chuckled bitterly. “Yeah, like that has actually helped us before.”

“It’s better than whatever stupid plan you come up with next,” I reasoned, almost losing my cool with the boy. Though, at first, I felt mostly connected to JJ. Now that I was starting to know him a bit better, he started getting on my nerves more often than not.

All the bickering and blaming one another came to a halt when Pope received a letter from someone who was impressed by his interview for the scholarship he’d run out of last summer and we bickered even less when Pope nearly got kidnapped, which then led us to running through the streets of Charleston, trying to shake the Limbrey guy off our back.

Trying to focus on my breathing while running with the Pogues nearly made me miss the most precious moment of all when the four of us bumped into John B and Sarah, who happened to be running from someone else in some sort of bike taxi.

The Pogues froze and stared at each other in disbelief. I knew none of them ever thought they were going to see their best friend again. I didn’t think I was going to see my oldest friend again, but here we were. All blinking and smiling and forgetting what we were running for.

“Get in! Get in!” John B ushered, finally remembering what we were here for.

While Kie and I jumped into the back with Sarah, JJ and Pope pushed the bike forward to gain some speed. The guy tried running after us, but we were quick to shake him off.

“So…” John B started when we arrived back at the Chateau, ready for a good party to celebrate their return to the Outer Banks. “How did this happen?” he asked, pointing at me.

Shrugging, I responded, “Just wanted to help prove your innocence…” I took a sip from the beer John B handed me. “That night, when you two were chased into the storm, I saw something shift in Ward’s face when you accused him of framing you for the murder of Peterkin. I conducted my own investigation and figured out there was someone unaccounted for on the tarmac that day when Peterkin –” I heaved in a deep breath, talking about her still wasn’t easy.

“Little Shoupe’s more on our team than Big Shoupe,” Kie chuckled and drank from her beer while hopping into the hot tub. “It’s pretty badass.”

As I felt a heat rise up my cheeks, I noticed JJ’s eye roll before he took a drag from the blunt he’d just lit. He wasn’t going to like me or me hanging out with them for a very long time, but I wasn’t sure if I cared about it. He was going to have to deal with me, whether he wanted to or not. This was the first time I ever had any friends, even if one of them hated me. Even if it was just to use me to prove John B’s innocence. It felt nice.

But that niceness was short-lived as the authorities soon figured out John B was back in the Outer Banks. We tried to run, we really did, but they had us surrounded pretty quickly and we had nowhere left to run. For a moment, everything seemed to go in slow motion. I saw JJ frantically drying his gun and John B trying to stop him. I noticed my dad’s colleagues inching closer towards us with guns drawn.

While JJ dropped his gun and covered it with leaves and dirt, John B took careful steps forward. Upon arrival, my dad called out to him, his gun pointing towards him. Cops were yelling, Sarah was crying, Kie trembling. All while we kept our hands up in the air and John B went down to his knees. Deputy Thomas, whom I spent many hours with, bored at the station while waiting for my dad, pushed the sixteen-year-old to the ground and started kicking him in the stomach.

My ears rang as everyone yelled at him to stop, to leave him alone, and before I could properly think about it, I sprinted forward and pushed the familiar deputy back. The forty-something year old man pushed me back, causing me to stumble against my own father’s chest as he too tried to calm the deputy down.

“This is for Peterkin,” Thomas mumbled to John B before giving him a right hook. The poor boy fell to the ground before the cops picked him back up and cuffed him.

And that was that.

John B Routledge was on his way to prison. An innocent boy, locked up.

No matter how much I tried to explain to my dad that they got the wrong guy, that Peterkin’s murderer was still at large, he wouldn’t believe me. He told me not to get involved and to stay away from those Pogues.

Of all people, my dad should know those words have a counterproductive effect on me.

It was raining when I got to the Chateau where the Pogues had gathered after John B’s hearing. I was soaked to the bone, but I didn’t care. I wanted to come up with a plan to get John B out of prison, but I had no idea. Though I knew there was someone who would come up with a plan.

“Wheezie?” JJ sneered at Sarah when I walked onto the porch. Only Pope and Kie had noticed me arriving. Neither of the blondies had, they were too focused on their bickering.

“I got us into this mess, I’m gonna do my best to get us out,” Sarah said before darting inside with Kiara’s phone in hand.

JJ shook his head. “Wheezie? Yeah, that will work.” He sat down for a moment, facing his friends. “She’s right about something. We gotta do something. Our boy is a PO-dub right now, okay? He’s held captive by the enemy right now, maybe even scheduled for execution. And we’re just gonna sit here?!”

“What’s the plan?!” Kiara countered, getting up from the armchair she was previously sitting in. “We start by kidnapping Shoupe?” The mention of my last name caused JJ’s eyes to flick my way. At least he had noticed I was there.

“Maybe, like that’s not the worst idea, actually.”

“Oh, it’s not?!” Kiara asked.

“No!” JJ’s eyes then focused on me. “Or we kidnap his kid?”

“That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” Pope chimed in.

“It’s pretty bad,” Sarah agreed from her spot inside. The girl had heard everything through the open window.

“I don’t love the idea either,” I hummed, chuckling.

JJ glared at me, his blue orbs shooting daggers at me. If looks could kill…

“You know what, please, just stay out of this,” he snapped, so I raised my hands in defense. JJ then turned back to Pope. “Okay, Pope, look, we’ve been doing everything your way, and how has that been working out?”

I could tell Pope wasn’t having any of it as he arose from his chair and towered over JJ. “Okay, so what’s your plan? Are you gonna storm a jail, guns a-blazing?”

JJ scoffed and stood, mere inches away from his friend. “Look, Pope, all I’m trying to get you to understand is they got our boy.” He looked at Kie, then at me before turning back to Pope. “Are we just gonna sit here and do nothing? No. We’re gonna go get his ass! We’re gonna do something about it!” I flinched a little as he raised his voice.

“JJ, we’re not storming a jail. It’s not happening,” Pope tried to reason.

“No, fine, man. Sit in your comfy chair. Do nothing.” His eyes landed on me and Kie again. “I’m gonna see what I can do. Make something happen, even if I have to do it by myself.” He placed his cap backwards on his head again before pushing past Pope and rushing out.

Pope turned to Kie and me when the screen door slammed shut. “Should we be worried?” he asked, eyes wild and concerned.

“Definitely,” Kiara and I said in unison.

We smiled at each other before she continued. “I’m gonna hit my parents, see if I can get some money for a lawyer.”

“John B has a public defender, he doesn’t really need that right now,” Pope objected with a simple shrug.

“Justice costs a lot of money, though,” I chimed in. “He’s gonna need all the help he can get.” Kiara hummed in assent. “Speaking of help… There’s someone else who needs all the help he can get to not do anything stupid.” I cocked my head towards the boy who was racing away on his motorbike. “I’ll keep an eye out for him.”

Nodding his head, Pope added, “And I’m gonna dig in hard into anything I can find about this key, because that tape Limbrey has, that’s exculpatory evidence. That can exonerate John B.”

“We gotta try,” Kiara nodded. A silence fell between the three of us when Pope took a step forward and tried placing his hand on Kiara’s hip. Her hand grabbed his, though, pushing it away. “We’ll talk about it later.”

I wasn’t entirely sure if she meant whatever was happening between those two or the plan we half conducted seconds ago. But judging from the longing look Pope gave the brunette girl when she pushed past him, it might’ve been the first thing.

“Hey,” I said, capturing his attention. “It’s pretty intense right now, she’ll turn around.” I hope I sounded convincing enough for the boy as I didn’t even bother giving him another glance before dashing out into the rain and going after JJ.

I knew where he was going. Or at least I thought I did.

As I waited in my car in the parking lot in front of Kildare County Prison, I kept an eye out for a certain tall blonde boy. I watched people go in and out of the building, mostly cops or visitors for the other inmates. Though my curiosity only piqued when Ward Cameron stepped into the car a few rows in front of me.

He was carrying a duffel bag as he entered the car I was pretty sure was Deputy Plumb’s. I frowned and narrowed my eyes to see better. Not long after, Deputy Plumb exited the building and made her way towards her car, getting into the driver’s seat. Thinking quickly, I reached for my phone and took as many photos as I could. There were going to be some blurry ones, but once I made sure I had pretty decent ones too, I turned back to the pair in real life and noticed how Ward left the car, empty handed. I couldn’t even count to ten before the deputy left her car too, also empty handed.

They must’ve left the duffel bag inside, and knowing Deputy Plumb, she left her car unlocked.

Once the coast was clear, I got out of my car and sneaked to Plumb’s car. As expected, her car was still unlocked and the duffel bag was stuffed underneath the passenger’s seat. Unzipping it, I didn’t know what I expected to be in there, yet I wasn’t surprised to find stacks of money inside. The urge to try and figure out what the money was for itched in the back of my throat. I needed to find out.

I quickly snapped a few pictures, stuffed the bag back and closed the car door before rushing back to mine. Just in time before JJ turned the corner on his motorbike and stopped in front of the building.

He had changed his clothes from the shorts and shirt to a pair of jeans and a white shirt. I had to admit that he looked like a snack and a half at that very moment. If he wasn’t the annoying piece of shit I came to know, I would know what to do.

Right now, however, I watched as he passed some cops and saluted them before flipping them off once they were turned away from him. I chuckled and shook my head as my eyes followed him inside. Though I was curious to hear his incredulous plan, my mind kept drifting off to Plumb and Ward. What could they have been talking about? Why did he need to pay Plumb so much money? Was it hush money because she knew what Rafe did, too?

The questions kept coming and they kept me busy until the Deputy shoved the blonde boy outside. I rolled my window down to hear what they were saying to one another.

“You’ll be back here one day,” Plumb said to him. “It’s in your blood.”

JJ put his cap back on and moved to his motorbike, but then he stopped. I could tell he was plotting something, thinking about whether or not he should say what he was thinking. But then he just mounted his bike and drove away.

It was hard to follow him, but eventually, I found him again at his cousin Ricky’s house. He was clad in shorts and T-shirt again, and I had to say I was a little disappointed by that.

I honked at the skater boy before he could walk into his cousin’s house. He startled before meeting my gaze. I noticed the disdain and caught his eyes rolling back before he approached me.

“What do you want, stalker? I’m on serious business here,” he said, annoyance dripping from his words.

“I know, that’s why I’m here. To help you unstupidify your stupid plan.”

JJ frowned. “How do you even know my plan is stupid?”

I deadpanned. “It’s you we’re talking about, Maybank. Your plan is probably a suicide mission. Now, get in and tell me about your stupid plan.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

I groaned. “Get the fuck in my car, JJ! We gotta get your best friend’s ass outta jail!”

The tone in my voice startled him enough to rush towards the passenger’s seat and get inside. As I drove off, JJ started explaining his plan. Though not the dumbest plan, it did have a few flaws.

“Yeah, we’re gonna change that up a bit,” I mumbled and parked in front of the building again.

His eyebrows furrowed at me. “And how are you gonna do that, huh? You’re gonna punch the Deputy in the face, or you gonna try and fight them like you did when they arrested him?”

“I’m gonna talk to them,” I responded. “Ask them if I can see my oldest, bestest friend for a moment.” I spoke melodramatically and placed my hand on the door to get out.

“You’re gonna talk to them…”

I shot JJ my best smile. “Don’t you dare underestimate my powers as a Shoupe.”

“I do actually underestimate the powers of a Shoupe. If they actually worked, he wouldn’t even be in there right now.” He pointed aggressively at the building. “Any other ideas?”

“Thinking about punching you in the face,” I replied before opening the door and getting out. JJ followed suit and I met him at the front of my car. “Meet me and John B by the side entrance, keep the car running. If we’re not out in twenty minutes, come find me.”

“Y/N?” Deputy Plumb’s voice sounded behind me. “What are you doing here so late?”

I turned around and grinned. “Plumb! Hey, girl! Ooh, I love what you’ve done to your hair tonight!” I approached her, appeasing her a little while her glare was focused on JJ.

“What were you doing with that Pogue?” she questioned as we walked towards the entrance.

Glancing back at JJ, who was now leaning against my car with his arms crossed. “Oh, him? He keeps following me. It’s kinda weird. I think he has a crush on me or something.” I said it loud enough for JJ to hear and I was close enough to see the expression on his face. He was displeased, to say the least but it pleased me very much.

“You oughta be careful with that crowd, y/n/n, they’re dangerous,” Plumb warned me as we entered the building.

Ignoring the anger bubbling inside me, I shrugged. “I can handle it – Hey, have you seen my dad? I wanted to ask him something…”

“Y/N, honey, what are you doing here?” Speak of the devil.

“Hi, daddy,” I said, smiling. “Can I go see him?” I asked, hooking my arm around his as I guided him towards the cells, away from the prying ears of his colleagues. “His friends wouldn’t let me go with them during visiting hours, but he’s my oldest friend, daddy. I wanna see him.”

Dad sighed. I knew he wouldn’t be able to say no to me. Ever since mom left five years ago, the two of us have been inseparable and he found it even harder to say ‘no’ to me for anything.

“Fine, but make it quick, yeah? Cell 442.” He handed me the key to the cells and shooed me towards the linoleum hallways. The harsh lighting hurt my eyes as I made my way through the labyrinth. I counted my way past other inmates before hitting 442. To my absolute confusion, the cell door had already been opened and I could hear grunting and struggling coming from John B’s cell.

My fight or flight instinct kicked in as I rushed inside, finding Big Bob, inmate 449, choking my oldest friend to death. I cursed under my breath before launching myself at the big, broad guy. I dug my nails into his eyes, which did cause him to let go of John B but then he threw me off his back. I landed onto the concrete floor with a loud thud that cracked something in my ribs before Big Bob hovered over me and picked me back up from the floor by my collar, lifting me from the floor. I thrashed around, kicking him in the shins a few times. He lashed out towards me, punching my right eye shut. Dismissing the sizzling pain I felt, I kicked him in the face, hard enough for him to stumble and let go of me. I fell back to the ground, but took this as an advantage to wrap myself around his ankle, taking him down too. The man hit his head against the bed frame. As I scrambled up, I noticed thick blood trickling from the back of his head.

“What the fuck?” JJ’s voice made me snap out of my zone. I turned my head to look at him and smiled. “Y/N!” he warned and before I could properly register it, Big Bob was lashing out again and punched me in the face again. I think I might’ve passed out for a moment and when I came to, I saw my dad, along with other cops marching in.

The buzzing in my ear kept me from hearing what was going on around me, but it did allow me to think this through. Images of Ward and Plumb in the parking lot flashed through my mind, faded out by Big Bob choking John B and then fighting me.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Dad asked worriedly. “I told you not to hang out with those Pogues anymore.”

“Plumb did this,” I whispered, ignoring his words. “Ward put her to it.”

Dad regarded me with worried eyes while behind him, JJ was being escorted out by his colleagues. “You must’ve hit your head pretty hard,” he mumbled. “Imma get you home.”

“Dad, you know this was a setup, right?”

“You’re seeing things, sweetheart,” he shook his head and held me by the shoulders as he led me towards the exit.

I shook myself loose and reached for my phone. “No, dad, look!” I showed him the pictures I took earlier that day in the parking lot. “Ward bribed Plumb to do this. He wanted John B killed.”

He was looking at the photos, and I knew that he knew this was true. In the back of his mind, he knew I was right. He knew I had been right this entire time.

“Go home, honey,” he stated, and so I made my way out the door, knowing dad would do the right thing.

“You okay?” JJ asked when I reached my car where he was waiting for me.

I grumbled. “I’m fine,” and moved to the driver’s seat until the blonde boy stopped me.

“I’m driving,” he stated and with a grunt, I walked around to the other side and got into the passenger’s seat. “What happened in there?” he asked, breaking the silence after a good five seconds.

“Ward paid Plumb good money to kill John B and make it look like a suicide,” I explained, my voice barely above a whisper. I was so tired, I couldn’t strain my voice too much. “Dad allowed me to go and see John B, but when I got to his cell, Big Bob was in there, choking him. I couldn’t– I–”

“You fought a dangerous criminal to save our boy,” JJ finished my sentence. “You might be more of a Pogue than I pegged you for, Shoupe Junior.”

I managed a small smile as the two of us lapsed into a comfortable silence while JJ drove us to the Cut. He stopped the car at the Chateau and helped me out. Ignoring the other’s questions and worried glances, he led me to the guest bedroom. There, he sat me down on the bed and rushed out, only to return with a small white box. He emptied its contents next to me on the bed before getting to work on disinfecting all the wounds that were scattered around my face.

“Why are you doing this?” JJ then asked, his voice soft and breath fanning my face as he leaned in close to clean out the cuts.

I shrugged. “John B and I used to be friends when we were kids. But as we got older, we kind of grew apart. Me being a Kook and him being a Pogue… We had different interests, different friends. But he’s still my friend and I care about him... a lot.”

“I’m not gonna lie, I never understood why you guys were friends in the first place,” JJ admitted with an amused chuckle. “No offense, y/n, but I would never be friends with a cop’s kid.”

“Nobody does,” I mumbled. “John B was pretty much my one and only friend. Nobody really liked me. Everyone always thought I was gonna snitch their rebellious plans to my dad, so they never invited me to anything. I tell my dad a lot, but I would never snitch on my friends – if I ever had some.”

“You got a pretty good bond with your dad, don’t you?” JJ asked, cleaning out the cut above my brow.

I hummed, ignoring the sting in my forehead. “Yeah. Ever since mom left, we’re all we have. He has to work a lot, so we don’t see each other often, but when we do, it’s always good.”

“I wish I knew what that was like,” JJ whispered before going back in with a fresh cotton pad. I grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“You’re not gonna end up like your dad, JJ,” I told him, remembering what Plumb said to him earlier. Something crossed his eyes, but I couldn’t quite place it until a smile broke out on his face.

“Don’t arrest me then,” he joked and I tilted my head in confusion. “You wanna be a cop too, don’t you? With your little investigation board and everything. You’d be a good cop.”

A smile etched its way to my lips as I loosened my grip on JJ’s wrist. “Thanks. And I won’t – arrest you, I mean. ‘s long as you don’t get yourself wrapped up in another one of your stupid plans.”

The silence wrapped around us like a comforting blanket as JJ finished cleaning out my wounds and taking care of the bruises forming on my face. While he put everything back in the box, I got up from the bed, stumbling a bit as my legs were unable to hold me up. JJ’s hand quickly grabbed my elbow to steady me.

“You can stay here tonight, I’ll sleep on the pull out.”

I shook my head. “No, I need to go home. My dad’s gonna be worried.” I attempted taking a step, but it came out in a limp instead, a pang shooting up my leg.

“Text him, tell him you’re staying at a friend’s.” JJ helped me down on the bed again. He undid the laces on my shoes and carefully slipped them off my feet before peeling the duvet back and letting me get settled underneath it. Before he stepped out of the room, he turned and said, “And I don’t mean that as an excuse.”

I had to bite my lip to keep myself from smiling as I got settled properly. After quickly typing a message to my dad, I placed my phone next to me and snuggled into the pillow. It smelled of JJ, who had slept here nights before. It smelled of the ocean and weed. A mixture I wouldn’t necessarily love, but right now, it smelled like home.

The following day, I slipped out of the Chateau and made my way back to the police station where I found my dad, hunkered over the evidence I had shown him.

“Hey dad,” I whispered, shaking him awake from his half-asleep state.

He smiled. “Oh, hi honey. You okay?”

“Yeah, I feel better. My leg still hurts a bit, but it’s all good.” I pressed a kiss to his head before leaning in to look at whatever he’d been thinking about for an entire night. “Found anything good?”

“So good, we were able to drop the charges against your friend,” he told me proudly. A bubble of excitement burst inside me. I shrieked and wrapped my arms around him. “You can go and pick him up with the Twinkie, if you want.” He handed me the keys to the infamous Volkswagen bus John B was famous for prior to all of this.

“Does that mean you’re gonna lock Rafe and Ward up for good?” I asked as my fingers wrapped around the cold metal of the keys.

“We’re gonna try.”

I gave him an excited smile, kissed him on the head one more time and as I exited the station, called out to him, “You’re the best, dad!”. The Twinkie, though heavily battered, was still okay enough to drive and it gave me a sense of freedom driving it to prison to pick up the innocent boy.

Just as Deputy Thomas let John B out, I put the van in park and got out. John B looked at his long lost baby with that twinkle in his eyes he used to have when we were kids.

“Ready to go, boss?” I asked him, tossing the keys his way.

Very smoothly, John B plucked the keys from the air, thanked Deputy Thomas and then got into the driver’s seat whilst I hopped in next to him. I could tell he needed a moment with the Twinkie, so I kept my mouth shut and let him do whatever he needed to at his own pace.

As John B drove us through the Cut, people called after us, cheering the free boy on. I couldn’t help the constant smile that stuck to my face. I was filled to the brim with happiness, almost overflowing.

“Hey, y/n,” he started as we were only a few minutes away from the Chateau. “Thank you. For sticking your neck out for me. I know it’s partially thanks to you that I'm free.”

I shrugged, “It was my pleasure, JB. Couldn’t let you go down for something you didn’t do. I couldn’t do that to my oldest friend.” He reached over and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight. He didn’t need to say more. From that one squeeze alone, I could tell he was grateful for me being there.

As John B drove up to the Chateau, he honked to get his friends’ attention. The three Pogues emerged from the shed, wide, unbelieving eyes. Exclamations of disbelief and relief sounded through the air as they approached John B, the two of us getting out.

“Guess who’s out of the clink, boy?!” John B exclaimed excitedly.

While the four Pogues embraced each other, I stood back and watched, the smile not wavering from my face. The happiness overflowed in me, glad I could help bring this group of friends, this found family back together. Glad I could witness it all.

“How’d you do it?” JJ asked, “Did you bust out?”

John B’s eyes flicked over to me. “They dropped the charges and I’m pretty sure it’s mostly thanks to this one over here.” He pointed to me, beckoning me to join him by his side. The boy snaked an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into him.

“That’s phenomenal!” Kie exclaimed excitedly, nudging me in the shoulder.

I groaned from the pain that shot through my arm as she hit the bruise on my arm straight on. She apologized straight away, and we both giggled as she hugged me sideways, carefully so as to not hurt me anymore.

“I think this calls for a party!” Pope suggested, throwing his hands up in the air.

John B glanced around, while the others – myself included – exclaimed our agreement excitedly. “Where’s Sarah?” he asked.

“She went to talk to Wheezie yesterday. We haven’t seen or heard from her since,” Kiara explained with a grimace pulling at her full lips. “I’m sorry, JB. I’m sure she’ll come back soon.”

“Let’s celebrate your freedom first, boy!” JJ exclaimed, throwing his arms around John B and guiding him towards the Chateau where they gathered all the beers and other forms of alcohol from the fridge.

That night was one filled with celebration and laughter and so much love I hadn’t felt in a long, long time. For the first time in forever, I actually felt like I belonged with people, like I had friends that didn’t just hang out with me for convenience. I was here because they wanted me to be here.

“So,” JJ said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders when I was making my way inside for more beer. “You are good for something after all, huh, Little Shoupe?” he giggled, and I could smell the liquor on his breath.

I let out a giggle too and shook my head. “You’re a dick, Maybank.”

He swiftly pinned me against the fridge, causing my breath to hitch in my throat at the proximity of the beautiful blonde boy inches away from me. I didn’t know I wanted to be pinned to a fridge by JJ Maybank until now. And now I didn’t think I ever wanted to do something else.

“Hell yeah, I’m a dick. I’m a-ddic-ted to you,” he cleverly shot back before leaning down and kissing me. Hungrily. Feverishly. Lustfully. My fingers wrapped in his luscious locks as our lips and tongues moved gracefully together.

This wasn’t how you normally fell in love. It wasn’t the way John Green described it in his novels nor was it a very Pride and Prejudice moment. This was how the mighty fell.

How the mighty fell in love.

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Outer Banks Taglist: @kaitieskidmore1 @chefjakedebrusk @badbussylol @sapnapsbandana @jungkookmiflacosipor @loulouloueh @adriee16 @Red2721 @sundownsdusk @shirleyrose @kookypogue @hhishho @avalon-doesit @watermelonsponge @pogueslandia @supernaturallydc

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#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #obx #outer banks

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ninyard · 3 years

Note

more stefan/andrew au? the last one was fucking amazing

(following on from pt 2 kinda following canon a lil bit but imagining their relationship panning out earlier than it did in the series? Fab)

Part 1 / part 2

“Andrew?” Neil was woken up by Seth’s pissed-off, tired moan. “Get the fuck out of here, you fuckin’ freak.” Neil heard the rustling of covers and Andrew’s footsteps coming into the room. “Yo, hey, are you deaf?!” It’d been a couple days since the incident in Columbia, and Andrew and Neil hadn’t really spoken since then. Coach had tried to get them to make up when Neil came back to his apartment, but his attempts futile. They’d only had a short conversation before Andrew got bored and left. All Neil got from Andrew’s lot since then was hostility and cold shoulders. Now, in the middle of the night, Andrew was breaking into the room of the three people he actively seemed to hate the most. Neil pretended to sleep, until he felt weight on the rungs of the ladder on his bed, and hands on the back of his T-shirt. Andrew practically pulled him off the bed, immediately waking him up from any bit of sleep he had left in him.

“Car. Ten minutes.” Andrew didn’t lower his voice for Neil’s half-asleep roommates. “I don’t like waiting.”

“I don’t care.” Neil retorted back in a hushed voice. “Leave me alone and let me sleep.” Andrew got real close to Neil’s face. The dim light of the moon outside the window showed Andrew unsmiling face. He was presumably sober, and Andrew sober was a much scarier sight than him being medicated and violent.

“Ten minutes.” He repeated again, matching Neil’s volume, hazel eyes burning a hole through Neil’s natural blue. Andrew put a finger to his lips and switched to German. “This is the only chance you’ll get.”

Neil had almost forgotten he’d spoken to Andrew in German in Coach’s apartment. He was startled at the sudden language change, and obliged when Andrew finally left the room. He got dressed underneath his covers as best he could, and decided against putting in his contacts, before jumping down off the top bunk.

“Bring that monster around here one more time and you’re moving out.” Seth groaned, but fully meant what he said. He turned around to face the wall and through the muffle of a pillow, Neil heard him say, “Now fuck off.” Matt, sleeping like a rock, was snoring on the other side of the room, totally unphased and undisturbed by Andrew’s swift entrance and exit.

Andrew was alone at his car when Neil pulled the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands in a desperate attempt to stay warm, the door of the dorm building shutting behind him. It was freezing outside, and Neil hadn’t realised it was literally the middle of the night until he saw a clock in the hallway reading an early 3:54am. The wind blew leaves across the parking lot with a whistle and a rustle, the dry fall leaves swirling around like tiny twisters on the tarmac. The campus was silent, on the night of a weekday, so Neil didn’t expect anyone to be out. Yet here Andrew was, leaning on the bonnet of his car with a cigarette between his lips, smoke quickly disappearing in the biting wind.

“You never answered my question on our little night out.” He spoke through the smoke, as Neil approached closer. “We’re going for a drive.”

“Do you ever sleep?” Neil’s voice was groggy from his own interrupted sleep. Andrew didn’t answer, instead flicking away his cigarette and sitting into the drivers seat. Neil walked around to the passenger side and sat in. When he tried to warm his hands on the hot air Andrew had blowing through the air-con, Andrew turned the heat off. Neil was sure if Andrew was medicated he would’ve laughed, but he instead opted for watching the road as they drove in silence. Neil sat back and tried his best not to fall asleep. His head bumped about on the headrest as they drove, and every time his eyes started to close, his sleep cycle begging him to come back to rest, Andrew would snap his fingers in his face or lay a punch down on his thigh. After a short drive, they pulled up into the empty lot of some National Park Neil didn’t know the name of. He was too tired to pay attention to the signs, but figured Andrew wouldn’t bring him to a park to kill him or let him go. Andrew was a man of truth when he wanted to be; He wanted to know why he was on the run and Neil didn’t have the energy to argue.

“Why are we here?” Neil asked at the same time Andrew said “What brought a runaway to Oakland?”They both paused for a moment, but Neil knew Andrew wasn’t going to answer his question until Neil answered his.

“It was the first place she wanted to stop.” Neil spoke through a yawn. “The others before there made her too paranoid. It was the first time she felt like she could close her eyes and actually sleep without feeling like she was…” He thought about his words for a moment. The last conversation they’d had, he told him he was on the run, but Andrew already knew that. Neil thought he’d got through to him by giving him half-honesty, telling him his parents were dead. He never brought up Riko, or his family, instead choosing the option of trying to appeal to Andrew’s inner child, who remembered Stefan. It was a stupid choice, and Neil knew that the second he chose it. “She could sleep without feeling like she had a target on her back.”

“Did you kill her?” Andrew said it so casually it felt like murder was something so normal, like eating lunch or going for a walk. Like asking if he killed his mother was just like asking if he liked the taste of garlic, or if he was having a good day.

“No,” Neil answered. He’d been thinking about what he would tell Andrew about his life since he seen him in Arizona. Who was he before Oakland? Where did they go? Who was he running from? “Riko’s family did.”

And suddenly Andrew was interested. His face was a mixture of disbelief and boredom. Neil told him his manufactured version of the story; that his parents were killed by the Moriyama family, and that they’d been on the run since the execution of his Father. He kept out the part about the Butcher of Baltimore, or the fact that he was actually still alive, but Andrew’s mind was at work as Neil told the story. If he didn’t look awake before, he did now. Neil spoke for an hour, maybe less, maybe more, flowing from story to anecdote to answering questions that Andrew slipped in whenever he wanted. Neil answered it all with mostly-truths, redacting the stuff Andrew simply didn’t need to know. Neil was a runaway, his family were in some bad business, but Neil was the only one left.

“I really didn’t think you could get any more stupid, yet I am constantly surprised.” Andrew tutted as he shook a cigarette out of the packet, into his hand. He rolled down the window on his side and smoked out of it, seemingly unbothered by the wind that just blew the smoke back into his face. “You knew who I was, but you knew Kevin too? How forgetful do you think people are?”

“I don’t know,” Neil told him honestly. “I just- We were so young. I met Kevin years before I met you. I just didn’t think I was important to anyone.” Andrew laughed a laugh that wasn’t really a laugh at all. It was the sound of dismissal, as though he didn’t believe a word that spilled from Neil’s tired lips. “I didn’t think I’d ever be particularly memorable or mean anything to anyone. That was the most important thing to my mom.”

“What, being unimportant?” Andrew didn’t look at Neil as he spoke.

“Being forgettable.” Neil sighed, thinking about his mother’s words that had been drilled into his head. If you’re too interesting, you’re asking to be killed. Be boring. Be normal. Be forgettable. “You fucked that up for me.”

“See, you keep blaming me,” Andrew shook his head as he took a drag from the cigarette that had been half-smoked by the wind. “I didn’t fuck up your life, Abagnale, you did.” Neil didn’t get the reference, but he didn’t ask either.

“I don’t mean it’s your fault. You didn’t do anything,” Neil tried correcting himself. “I couldn’t help it when I was around you. And all I could do every second of my days after Oakland was blame you because I couldn’t deal with the fact that I let you in. Everything I learned, everything I’d done, you came along and turned the place upside down because I just had to know you. I had to.”

“Why?” Andrew looked at him with that same uninterested look he usually had, when a medically-induced smile wasn’t spread across his cheeks. “What made me any different to the hundreds of other kids I’m sure you met on your travels, hmm?”

“You were real.” Andrew scoffed. Neil frowned at that and shrugged his shoulders. “We’ve been through this. Don’t waste my time getting to know me if you just want me to run. You want me to get lost in the park, is it? Is that why you brought me here?”

“Nothing better than some honesty with a view.” Andrew tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “How do you expect me to trust you when you’ve spent your whole life a liar? Be mad if you want, but I’m much less gullible now, you see. Once a liar, always a liar.” Neil sent Andrew a look as he hovered his hand over Andrew’s. When he just stared at it, Neil brought Andrew’s hand up to his collarbone where was a small, raised, pink scar sitting just above it.

“The motels phone.” Neil spoke quietly, as if Mary would hear, as if she was waiting to jump out from behind the car to take him and beat him again for letting his guard down, for being unforgettable. “It was the first thing she could grab when we got into our room. I never told her your name, and she beat me harder for it. I never wanted to let her anger ruin your name.” Andrew dropped his hand from Neil’s grip.

“Pretty unintelligent to take hits for someone you thought you’d never see again.”

Then Neil said, “I knew I’d never forget you.” Andrew tensed up at the almost-promise, and the memories came flooding back for Neil like a tsunami sweeping over every other thought he had. “I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.” Neil almost reached out to touch Andrew before he remembered the boundary Andrew had set that night in Columbia. Neil didn’t have a right to touch him anymore, and he knew Andrew noticed as Neil’s hand lifted and then hesitantly fell. “Tell me something I don’t know about this Andrew. I’ve told you my life, tell me yours.” He gestured to Andrew, sat across from him with an almost-frown on his face and a thinking mind hard at work.

“This Andrew doesn’t give a shit about what answers you think you deserve.” He looked Neil up and down. “I don’t owe you anything.”

“Why doesn’t Nicky know you’re gay?” Neil asked, instead of waiting for him to come up with something himself, it was much easier to get honesty from Andrew by prompting him. Neil watched as his jaw tensed for a second, thinking about the answer.

“Nicky is too involved in being the gay cousin to un-assume.” Andrew barely lifted his shoulders in the form of a shrug. “He hasn’t asked.”

“Why don’t you tell him?”

“I don’t ‘come out’,” He brushed off the thought with the flick of his wrist and a roll of his eyes. “I don’t fuck women in my spare time. Who cares?”

“Yeah, sure, but-” Neil had started to speak when Andrew cut across.

“At least I’m out to myself,” He nodded towards him. “You, on the other hand? Was it just Stefan who was into it or is the unnamed you just in denial?”

“I’m not, like…” Neil hated the sexuality question. It was confusing and messy and Andrew and Andrew and Andrew. “There was no one after you. It’s only been you.”

“By choice or by mothers hands?”

“Neither. Both?” He wasn’t sure how to answer. “The foxes are the first people I’ve let get somewhat close since then. That’s the truth. I haven’t wanted to. I’m just not interested in anyone.” The except for you part was silent, but he knew Andrew had somewhat heard it when he sat back, one hand on the steering wheel, the other arm resting on the door, as he took a deep breath that he tried to hide. Neil wasn’t even sure he was still into Andrew like that, because they were so young, after all. Andrew was still experimenting, and they never spoke about those kinds of feelings. They were friends who kissed each other because they wanted to know what it felt like. They kissed each other because maybe they thought they liked it. Maybe they’d have to do it again just to be sure. But that was so long ago, and so much had changed. Neil had had a crush on that Andrew, but this one? He wasn’t so sure. This one was harsh and mean, angry and unmoving. This one had been hard-boiled by life and wasn’t going to crack any time soon. He didn’t know if he felt things anymore. He didn’t know if Andrew was capable of a crush, or a kiss, or a simple, electric touch of fingers to skin.

Without a word, Andrew had switched on the ignition and idled the engine for a moment before pulling out and starting on the drive back to campus. Neil didn’t say anything else, he only rested his head on the window and watched as the morning sun slowly lit up the night sky, the dark navy blue taking over the black sky so slowly it was hardly noticeable.

He had pulled into his usual parking spot not long later, still not looking at Neil or speaking at all. He stayed still in the drivers seat after switching the engine off. Neil took that as his cue to leave. Matching Andrew’s silent treatment, he got up and shut the door without a word. Andrew had rolled down his window again, another cigarette already stuck between his lips. He watched as Neil walked around the car before he tapped the outside of his door twice to catch his attention. Neil spoke before he could.

“Give me a chance.” The wind blew his hair off his face, reminding him how cold it was, and why he should’ve worn a jacket. “Let me stay. I don’t have anything else.”

“Don’t be fooled into thinking I trust you.” He hung his hand out the window finally looking Neil in the eyes again. “It’s a matter of time before your egg timer runs out. Make use of it while you can.”

“I’ll bury Stefan forever, if you ask.” Neil offered in payment for the sudden change of heart in letting him stay, in cleaning his hands of the idea that Neil was after Kevin, or that he was a threat. “Say the word and we start fresh from today.”

“I don’t care,” Andrew took a long drag, one that felt like it was centuries long, like the sun would be up by the time he finished. He blew it out and raised his hands. “Kill what wasn’t real. Prove to me what was.”

Neil wasn’t sure what that invitation meant, but he didn’t ask Andrew to keep speaking. When they broke eye contact, he knew then Andrew wanted him to leave. Neil didn’t look back, heart racing, practically ready to burst out of his chest by the time he reached his dorm room. He opened the door as quietly as he could, careful not to disturb his peacefully sleeping roommates, and he crawled back into bed to try get some sleep before the practice scheduled for the morning. Instead of counting sheep, battling restlessness like a fight for his life, he thought of Stefan. He thought of the heart of Nathaniel that had gotten wrapped up in his blond hair and tiny frame. Neil fell asleep thinking about who he used to be, and what parts of that were real. What parts could he keep? His mind spent its last morsels of energy on dissecting Neil Josten, to make him feel a little more real.

The next time they saw each other outside of practice was when Kevin started coming to find him late at night to go to the court and practice together. Neil realised quickly he was going to become a night owl as a Fox, but it still took him a while to adjust to the late nights and early starts. But him and Andrew kept their distance; they didn’t speak if they didn’t have to, and their conversations were kept to a line or two each. They played their first match of the season, and Andrew had sent out shots for Neil like they were capable of working together. Then there was Kathy Ferdinand’s show, at which Andrew had hands all over him, holding him back from killing Riko on live TV. He had made a deal to protect Kevin, and then he was being psychically held back from doing so. Neil did what he couldn’t, and stood up to Riko, a conscious effort to gain his trust, to prove he was on the side of the foxes. Then there was that touch, that simple, light, barely-there touch, and Neil knew he’d won. He’d earned Andrew’s trust, at least for a moment, but that was all that mattered.

When Andrew ever-so-kindly reminded Neil later that Riko would find out about him, the original “Neil”, as easily as he’d strolled onto that stage to sit across from Kevin, there was no choice but to run. He couldn’t imagine any other option. His entire body went into fight or flight, and he struggled to sit still as Andrew held his collar and told him to stay.

“Why?” Neil asked, throat dry, hands shaking, after Andrew offered him protection for the year if he promised to stay. It was funny to imagine, as if there was anything he could do against the actual, guns-blazing, internationally dominating mafia. “Why would you help me?” Andrew laughed, and just about caressed Neil’s jaw in the most non-affectionate way possible. Neil felt his touch leave blood on his skin, but he didn’t flinch. Andrew was manic, and didn’t care. He looked as if he didn’t even feel the pain of a glass-shattering punch, and was actively enjoying the chaos that the morning had brought with it.

Andrew didn’t give him any sort of an answer until later that night, when he stepped into Neil’s space and told him to remember the feeling; Neil couldn’t run anymore. He had given his word to Andrew that he would stay, and as much as he had started to hate the Present-Day-Andrew-Minyard, he trusted him as a man of his word. Neil had killed the parts of Stefan that were untrue; all that was left was the real emotion he felt when he looked at Andrew. He was an asshole, but he was Andrew, and Neil trusted this five foot blond boy with his life. Perhaps it was crazy, perhaps he was officially, undeniable, finally signing his name on his death wish, ticking down the hours until his past caught up. Whereas running was his old line of defence, his current one was Andrew. Andrew was an unlit fire suddenly gaining embers, and Neil knew it was dangerous to let that fire grow. Especially when Andrew leaned over in Eden’s, crackers on his tongue, a drink in his hands, and whispered in German;

“Mommy’s not here to hurt you anymore.” Neil snapped his gaze towards Andrew, who was coming up on his high, speaking to Neil but watching the crowd on the dancefloor. His breath at Neil’s ear sent shivers up his spine, goosebumps on his arms. “My hands are open to have your back. Give it to me this time.”

#idk if this is bad #I can’t be subjective about my own content anymore #straight up I’ll delete it if someone tells me it’s bad lmao #andreil #Andrew minyard #Neil josten #andreil au #tfc #aftg #the foxhole court #all for the game #aftg fic #tfc fic #as per usual send an ask if u want more/have a specific Andrewstefan prompt

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gloomybabygirl · 3 years

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{in my head pt.2} Poe Dameron x smuggler!reader (soulmate au)

series masterlist

last part * next part

a/n: hi everyone! I can’t thank you enough for all the love on the first part of the series!! I was actually super nervous to post it and had my friends beta read it an unhealthy amount of times, so the feedback I’ve gotten has been wonderful :) p.s. the series tag list is open, send an ask or message if you want to be tagged for the rest!

warnings: alcohol consumption, soulmate trope, poe not clearing his throat, cliffhanger, I haven’t proofread this yet

timeline: I never established this so here we go! this is set between force awakens and last Jedi! so we’re still on D’Qar ladies, gents, and nb friends. however Miss Rey has not yet traveled to see Uncle Luke

word count: 4k oops

songs used: mr. loverman - Ricky Montgomery & the chain - Fleetwood Mac (kinda? I just listened there's no singing in this part lol)

summary: you and Poe spend some time bonding, you go on your first mission

You loved being apart of the Resistance. Waking up on D’Qar every morning was a blessing in your eyes. You had a purpose here. You’d never stayed on one planet for so long. Being on the run was your norm for the majority of your life. It was too dangerous for you to stay on one planet for too long (or stay in one region for that matter). The humid Jungle was the closest thing you’d had to a permanent home since you were a child.

That is, D’Qar was the closet thing to a physical home you’d had in years. There was one person that had no trouble making you feel at home. You could be stuck in carbonite on a bounty hunters ship and hearing your soulmate’s voice wold make you feel safe. His sweet song felt like coming home to the warm embrace of a lover.

But you hadn’t heard it in weeks. And it was starting to worry you. There had always been that nagging voice in the back of your mind telling you that he’d found someone else. But now that voice was trying to convince you of something much worse. You don’t know what you’d do if you’d spent all this time waiting for your person only to find out that something awful had happened to him.

You’d rather find out he already belonged to someone else.

You did your best to push the dark thoughts away, locking them in a box in the back of your mind. You couldn’t let yourself linger on the idea of him being dead or it would drive you insane.

There were three people that did a magnificent job of keeping your mind off of all the negative thoughts. On days when it felt like the weight of the war was resting solely on your shoulders, your friends were the ones who could help you bear it. They were always there for a joke or a long talk, if that's what you needed. Of course you were there for them as well. It was the first time you’d allowed yourself to have people in your life that could rely on you.

Days like today were your favorite. The weather was finally starting to cool down on the swampy planet, making the outside air somewhat tolerable. Everyone you loved was on base, safe and accounted for after a successful mission. Every time one of them left the base you felt as though you were holding your breath until they came back. But now, in Poe's small quarters with Rey and Finn, you felt the air return to your grateful lungs. Poe had devised a plan to hit up Maz’s on the way back from the mission and snagged a few bottles of jet juice, which you and the rest of the gang were all happily draining in his quarters. The alcohol was just beginning to burn in your stomach and your head was the slightest bit fuzzy. You took your time soaking in the scene of your found family spread out on the cold permacrete of Poe’s room.

Finn’s boisterous laugh rang out as his best friend finished telling every one about his adventure and a half to get the jet juice. Finn was especially fond of the tangy, red alcohol and was on drink number four down the hatch.

“Only you, Dameron,” Rey laughed to herself, gently taking the half full bottle out of Finn’s hands. His face of protest caused another round of laughter to erupt around the small room. He looked like a child that was denied a sweet by their parent.

Finn fell back against the permacrete, his head making an awful hollow sound as it hit the ground. He didn't seem to feel it and decided the floor was his new best friend for the night. Rey got up from her position against the wall and began to pick up the empty bottles scattered around the room.

“Looks like the jet juice served it’s purpose,” you commented, nudging Poe in the side with your elbow. Finn was now curling into the fetal position, trying to use a rug as a blanket.

You had your legs resting over Poe’s strong thighs. He patted the side of your leg where his hand had been resting, carefully moving your legs off of him. “I better help him back to his room. Someone has to make sure he doesn’t end up running naked through the tarmac trying to fly an X-Wing,” Poe said.

“I’d should head back to my quarters too,” you stood up to put your boots on, but Poe stopped you.

“Actually, do you think you could wait here till I get back? I have something I want to give you,” Poe winked at you, helping Rey tug their friend to his feet.

You couldn't help the way your heart sped up at his words. And you definitely didn't miss the eyebrow raise Rey shot you from the door.

“Yeah, I’ll just hang with BB-8 till you get back.”

A low voice bellowed out from the door, “OOOOH HE GOT YOU A PRESENT! How romantic,” Finn was apparently trying to wake up the entire base with the way his voice was booming off the walls. You were sure he hadn't meant for that to come out so loud. Or to come out at all.

Everyone went silent. You and Poe pointedly looked away from each other. His cheeks flamed red. You pretended to be preoccupied with the frayed laces on your Resistance issued boots.

Rey looked between the two of you and then broke the awkward silence with: “Aaanyway, let’s get you to bed Peanut!” She sounded too cheerful, trying to reduce the awkward energy that hung in the room. Being force sensitive you could only imagine how she was perceiving the situation. She and Poe hauled their inebriated friend out into the hall, desperately trying to shush him as he was now singing. You hoped his poor soulmate wasn't trying to sleep.

Finn clapped Poe on the back hard when they finally got into the drunk man’s room. Rey had helped Poe get Finn to his quarters but had dipped when Finn requested to be helped into his pajamas. They were close, but not ‘undressing one another’ close. Poe was itching to get back to his room and see you again, but he helped his buddy none the less.

Finn was finally laying in bed when Poe turned to leave.

“Are you okay?”

Poe hesitated, then turned on his heel. “Yeah?” he furrowed his brow at the unexpected question, “Why?”

“You haven’t been singing.” Finn was suddenly serious.

Poe’s face softened when he realized what Finn was so concerned about.

And he was right, Poe hadn’t been singing. It wasn't hard to miss, everyone on base noticed. The man who used to use every spare moment to sing to his soulmate had gone quiet. People actually missed hearing his voice all the time. Echoing through the halls of the base or out on the tarmac mixing with the whine of X-Wings taking off and landing. Finn wasn’t the only person worried about Black Leader. Leia had even mentioned something to her surrogate son a few days back. She enjoyed his singing more than anyone. She said it was a sparkle of hope during a dark time.

But the truth was, Poe didn't feel like singing. Guilt was the main thing keeping him from inflicting his voice on people whenever he could. How could he sing to his soulmate when he was fighting off feelings for someone else? He was doing everything in his power to stop you from being at the forefront of his mind all the time, but it was hard when your smile was his favorite thing to occupy his mind with.

“I miss my lover, man.”

He did. He missed his soulmate, whoever they were. He missed randomly hearing their soft voice humming through his mind. He missed the way he felt when he would sing to them. It was the closest thing he had to actually being with them, talking to them. He missed that he used to long for them. Lately that unconditional, blind love was being clouded by someone else. You.

“Tell me more stories about your Dad.” You were sitting cross-legged on the floor across from where BB-8 was nestled in his charging station. He had been beeping and booping at you for the last half and hour as you waited for his father to return.

The droid animatedly jumped into another anecdote about a recent mission he had gone on with his favorite person. He rattled around in his charging station, whirling his head around and beeping rapidly at you.

“He did what?!” you asked the little orange droid as the blast doors flew open, revealing the man in question. You turned to face Poe, mouth still agape at the droids admission to you.

“Who did what?” Poe asked confused, walking into the room. The droid then decided he was done charging and rolled over to Poe for scritches. Poe kneeled down and gave his favorite little guy some love, looking at you for an answer. He laughed at the way you had your arms crossed and were giving him the same look Leia gave him when she found out he’d gotten into a dog fight.

BB-8 beeped adamantly at him.

“Maker, Beebs, you told her about that?” He glanced nervously at you, only to find you were now trying to suppress a laugh. He was soothed by that damned smile that was burned into his mind.

“Unfortunately for you, I can understand BB’s binary perfectly. Now I know why you have to work on your ship so often,” you teased. “You’re not exactly tender with her.” You were trying to keep up your facade of being angry with him for being reckless. You were failing, your smirk giving you away.

Why did the fact that you understood BB-8 give him heart palpitations? His droid was absolutely going to get him into trouble with you one day. Apparently he can’t be expected to keep secrets.

Poe ignored your jab and walked over to sit behind you.

“Close your eyes,” he demanded softly.

“No, I don’t trust you. What kind of weird creature are you about to put on me?” you asked, twisting your torso to see him.

He cocked his head at you, “Would you just have a little faith in me? I have something special for you.” He laughed. You narrowed your eyes at him but closed you eyes and turned around anyway, your smile growing bigger every second.

“Besides, if I was going to put a creature on you, I’d do it on front of more people,” he taunted.

You laughed humorlessly at him, “Always the attention whore.” You heard him playfully shush you.

Poe took a deep breath, silently grateful that you couldn't see the way his hands were trembling. He reached up and removed the silver chain from around his neck for the first time in years. He then carefully slipped it over your head and watched from over your shoulder as his mothers ring came to rest at your sternum.

Deep breath. “Open.”

You immediately turned toward him, a look of shock on your face.

“Poe what is this?” you asked, alarmed by the ring resting delicately on your collar bone.

Poe's warm eyes held so much softness in them, you thought you would bust into tears right then. You turned to face him fully, confused as to why he just put this piece of jewelry around your neck.

“A good luck charm,” he whispered, admiring the way it looked on you.

“Is this the chain you wear every day?”

He nodded, still giving you that look that made you feel like the only person in the universe.

“Then what's this ring?” The bottom of the silver chain was always dipped below his collar, if the ring had always been there, you’d never seen it.

“It was my mother’s wedding ring. I wear it every day, take it on every mission, even sleep with it on. One day I’ll give it to my soulmate when I ask them to marry me, but for now it serves as a good luck charm for me,” He explained with a sad edge to his voice.

You had become close with Poe Dameron in the last few months. While a large portion of that time was spent with Finn and Rey, you also had spent a few late nights just the two of you. He had a knack for making you laugh and you would often stay in his quarters long after the others had retired. Deeper conversations were far and few between, the two of you preferring to spend your time together in a fit of hysterics. It was strange to see this man so serious. There was no twinkle of mischief in his eyes tonight.

You suddenly felt suffocated by him. His face was a mere few inches away from yours and you could feel his cool breath fanning across your face. His large hands rested on your knees, giving you a light squeeze and snapping you out of your haze.

“Poe are you sure you want to give this to me? I can't imagine how important it must be to you.” You reached up and stroked the smooth metal.

“It’s the most important thing in the word to me. But I want you to have it for your first mission. Since I’m not going with you to help you when you accidentally shoot yourself in the foot, I want you to have a piece of me there with you. And what better to give you than my good luck charm?”

You felt your tears spill over, streaking hot and wet down your face at the sincerity in his voice. You couldn't believe he wanted you to have this piece of him with you. He was becoming one of the most important people in your life, and him sharing something so special with you meant the world.

You were going down a slippery slope. If you weren't careful, you could fall in love with this man so easily.

“Poe, thank you. I don't know what to say,” you reached forward, pulling him into a tight hug. You nuzzled into his neck, letting the scent of leather and engine oil envelop you. He reached one arm securely around your waist and brought the other up to gently cup the back of your head. He took a deep breath in without meaning to, overwhelming his senses with you. He didn't want to pull away and had to hide his disappointment when you did. You kept your hands on his shoulders, squeezing slightly.

“I promise I’ll bring it back safely so you can give it to your soulmate one day.”

The next few days were a whirl wind of meetings, briefings, more meetings, caf breaks, and did you mention meetings? You spent more time in the command room with your team than you did anywhere else. You forgot life existed outside the confines of the dirt walls.

But you were ecstatic that Leia trusted you with such an important mission so soon after joining the Resistance. Plus you couldn’t be more grateful for the people that were joining you for this mission.

Finn was excellent for morale and a very smart man when he needed to be, unless of course he had jet juice in his system. Miss. Force-User Rey was always a good person to have on a mission. You brought a sense of craftiness to the crew, thanks to your smuggler skills. And Chewbacca was the only one (besides Poe) that Leia trusted to pilot the Falcon. Plus, he had a soft spot for smugglers, making you a new favorite of his.

The one person you wished you could add to this team was Poe. His pilot skills would have been a great help to Chewie, he was talented with a blaster, and he was easy on the eyes. But he had a more important solo mission with BB-8 that Leia needed him on. He didn't make himself completely scarce though. He often came in and out of the Command Center, having his own mission to plan with Admiral Akbar. He made a point of bringing you caf every time too, he knew exactly how you liked it.

You were terrified for your first mission as it was, but not having Poe there made everything ten times more dangerous in your eyes.

The ring he had let you borrow was becoming a source of comfort. Whenever you got anxious about the mission you found yourself fiddling with it. The smooth metal was slightly worn in one spot on the band and you ran your fingers over it repeatedly to calm yourself. Something you caught yourself doing unconsciously on a number of occasions.

The plan was simple. The Resistance had gotten word of an ex First Order official on the planet Ryloth, less than a parsec away from Tatooine. You and the rest of the crew were to go there and see what information the old Commander could offer you. Simple. But that didn’t stop you from needing to cover all your bases. Every single thing that could have possibly gone wrong had an escape plan to coincide. You were as prepared as you could be.

Your favorite part of the plan was your mode of transportation. As an ex-smuggler, you’d admired the Millennium Falcon and it's pilot for years. You’d heard every story surrounding Han Solo and his old piece of junk. Seeing it in person, let alone flying on it was something you’d never thought would be possible. But here you were, boarding the infamous ship.

Finn and Rey brushed passed you, Rey laughing at the look of awe on your face as you were frozen in the doorway, the ramp hitting you on the ass as it closed.

You took your time walking around the hull of the Falcon. Taking a moment just to think about the adventures she’d been on, the places she’d seen. You laughed fondly to yourself as you remembered your favorite story. You reached out and placed a hand tentatively on the wall of the old ship. “So this is the ship that made the Kessel Run in fourteen parsecs?” you called out to your friends.

“Twelve,” Finn and Rey chorused from the cockpit, mixed with the indignant cry of your favorite Wookie.

“Okay, twelve! Sorry, sorry,” you laughed and joined your friends in the cockpit.

Poe was exhilarated every time he was in the air. There was nothing in the world that gave him the same feeling. This man was more comfortable in a cockpit than he was on his own two feet. If it were up to him, he’d never come down.

But there was someone pulling him back to solid ground, like a magnet. Someone he couldn’t stop thinking about no matter how badly he wanted to exile them from his mind. He couldn't ignore your gravitational pull. He hadn't seen you in several days, you having returned from your mission two days prior. His mission was a success and he couldn't wait to tell you all about it. Leaving out the dangerous details that BB-8 was sure to fill you in on later.

He was nervous to hear about how your mission went. It was a simple enough task, but he couldn't help but worry about you. He hoped his good luck charm was as comforting to you as it had been to him these last few years. He felt naked without it, this having been the first mission he hadn't taken it on. He found himself reaching up to stroke his finger across the band of the ring he had worn in from playing with it when he got nervous, but then remembering he'd given it to you. The idea that you were wearing a piece of him around the base made his heart leap in his chest.

He was practically giddy when he leaped down from his X-Wing, already rushing to find you.

Cool it Dameron, you have a soulmate waiting for you.

Plus, he had to see the General before anything. Was he so clouded by his need to see you that he forgot he was fighting a war?

A twinge of guilt hit him hard in the stomach, forcing him to take a deep breath and remind himself of the person looking for him somewhere in the universe. He let his feet take him down the familiar dirt path to the Command Center. The soft, damp earth caused his flight boots to sink slightly with each step.

He flooded his mind with images of what his future could be like with the person the galaxy had chosen for him. A small home on Yavin IV. Children he could teach how to fly the same way his mother taught him. A safe, quiet life with no threat of the First Order. No threats at all. He stored these images in the back of his mind for when he needed a glimmer of hope during the war. But lately he was using these daydreams as distractions from you.

He stepped into he large room where Leia was addressing General Akbar and a few other pilots that had also just returned from a mission.

When she caught sight of Poe her forehead created in confusion and she abruptly dismissed the debrief she was in the middle of with a wave of her hand. As they shuffled out of the room, several of them shot Poe sympathetic looks.

What the hell was going on?

“Commander Dameron, what are you doing here?” The General asked, walking over to him.

He hesitated, unsure as to why she was asking a question with an obvious answer, “I just landed from my mission, General. I’m here to debrief.”

Leia dropped the General persona and gently caressed the pilots face, running her thumb over the stubble she resented.

She had always been like a second mother to Poe, and he like a second son to her. Their relationship was something special and unique. Something she thanked the Force every day for. However, her unexpected shift from serious Resistance leader to caring mother made Poe nervous.

“I thought Finn or Rey would have been waiting on the tarmac to tell you.”

Now he was starting to panic. What was he missing? What happened?

“Come with me,” Leia softly implored, grabbing his calloused hand and yanking him out of the room. She tried to flood him with calm though the force connection she made with him, but his anxiety was too overbearing.

She continued explaining as she pulled him through the base, “The mission went south. There was no ex Order Commander on Ryloth. It was a set up. When they landed, there was a fleet of ‘Troopers waiting for them, ready to capture them and bring them back to the Finalizer for my son to interrogate.” She tried to keep her voice even for Poe's sake.

Poe was really panicking now, starting to pick up his speed. He squeezed Leia’s hand, begging her to continue.

“They got out relatively unscathed. Chewie stayed on the Falcon so they were able to get away quickly. But Poe,” she stopped in her tracks, jerking Poe back to a halt. She looked him in the eyes, worried for what his reaction to her news would be.

“Poe, the new recruit was badly hurt. They were shot in the side with a blaster and lost a lot of blood. They’ve been in the medbey unconscious for two days, but they’ll be okay,” she finished.

Poe wordlessly turned and broke out into a run towards the medbay. Leia watched him go, knowing he needed to see you more than anything in that moment. She had felt a connection between you and Poe. She knew he wanted to wait for his soulmate, but she also knew that finding them was not likely. Part of her wished he would give in and let himself fall in love with you. Soulmate or not, she wanted him to be happy.

#poe x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fic #poe dameron one shot #poe dameron x reader #star wars imagine #in my head

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wingingitonwheels · 2 years

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Moving on…Adios Peru and South America

Thursday April 6th

I’ve consulted with myself whilst sitting on the beach, watching the terrifying storm, so typical of Florida, disappear to the east, just as I arrived for my one chance to have my afternoon of sunbathing. It’s almost stopped raining, a far cry from the torrents of biblical proportions that led me to spend $14 on a Mai Tai to justify my shelter in a nearby bar. The consultation has delivered that although Peru was potentially the highlight of South America for any of my readers, I’m so far behind that if I don’t summarise by highlight, I may never catch up and all emotion from anything I’ve done will be lost, and it will just be a tale of “I did this then I did that”. I have noticed that I like to write with emotion, and emotion can only be recalled within a short timeframe of the emotional event: at best, there are probably 5 days before the emotion fades and the story becomes processionally dull “I went there and I did that”. I want to recall colour, the detail, and the feeling, good or bad! So with that, I’ll quickly recall the last week in Peru so I can bring you back to the present. Here we go.

Friday 25 March: Chivay climb.

I smashed it. I don’t know where my energy came from but I don’t think I’ll ever climb like that again. I didn’t feel the altitude, and celebrated back at the hotel with 3 Pisco sours accompanying dinner and cards. I’d noticed at lunch my tummy was sore but put it down to a crap diet for 2 months and carried on.

Saturday 25 March: Chivay - Cusco

We’d researched the route towards Cusco, and the plan was to jump on the bike just outside Chivay. However, what lay ahead was 160km of unpaved and uneven road. This was fine, as I had a stomach bug, and instead spent a total of 9 hours in the car being thrown around like a pair of knickers on a fast spin cycle. I suffered, but how Mark got through it, I don’t know. We eventually reached Cusco, nerves frayed and tummy crying out for relief and TLC at 7pm. Still wondering how the car survived that journey.

Sunday 27 March: Cusco - Abancay

We planned the morning to look round Cusco, as everyone said “You HAVE to visit Cusco, and why aren’t you going to Machu Pichu?” Well, we did as we were told and went to Cusco, where we were constantly hassled by street sellers, probably one a minute. My tummy was still bad, so any ideas of riding were in doubt. We didn’t go to Machu Pichu as we had limited time and it would have taken a full day, but to be honest, we had seen so much of Peru’s culture and history away from the tourist trail, we didn’t feel the need.

Getting away at lunch, and as the sun broke through, despite my sick tum, I got a four hour climb in, almost to the top, when the weather broke and I could go no further. The day will be remembered by chasing dogs and Mark following and coming between me and them: Mark: defender of Michelle and enemy of Peruvian street dogs!

Monday 28 March - Abanacy - Andahualyas

It looked like another day in the car. My tummy was not giving up the ghost and the weather was bad. We’d hit our third road block of protestors fighting against the cost of petrol and diesel. But they let us through, writing with water soluble paint on the car: free the jobs. I don’t know what that means, and I can understand their frustration, but driving these mountains was hard enough without road blocks. Mark bottomed out the car in almost every village as they all had speed bumps disguised as tarmac which would rip the axle off a performance car. Every one made me wince, not knowing anything about mechanics and expecting the bottom of the car to simply fall off or to leak fluid and explode.

Yet again, just as the descent hit its lowest point before it climbed, we past the block and I mounted my bike for yet another climb. I hadn’t had a pure descent on this trip other than to La Curva, and the profile for the month looked disproportionately like I was simply spending all my time going up hill. Which I was. My tummy still being bad made me feel quite weak, and 4 hours in, I jumped off my bike, missing the descent in the rain, once again.

Tuesday 29 March: Andahualyas - Ayacucho

The bug had taken a pretty firm grip on me and riding was out of the question. It was another day of being churned up in the car, 51 miles as the crow flies between the two points, but 150 miles by road. We arrived in Ayacucho and I went to bed, listening to the racket of 1000s of Tuktuks racing past the single glazed windows to our room. Mark got out and brought back some rice for me, telling me what a beautiful town it was, something I’d appreciate a little more the next morning. But for me, the day was written off as I curled up into a ball in a darkened room…

Wednesday 30 March - Ayacucho - Chinca Alta

This was meant to be “The Day of the Big Descent”. We began our exit from Andahualyas with the now customary road block and bun fight for tarmac and space. Mark had stepped up a gear and had taken on some Peruvian qualities, taking no prisoners for the cheeky chancers trying to steal his line. My tummy was no better, and I felt drained, but was resolute in my plan to ride from our highest elevation of 4,500m to sea level, a ride that would take in 150km of downhill.

Just as we stopped and prepared, a threatening group of black clouds saw us, and decided to ruin the day by hailing and throwing fog at us, in an already inhospitable environment where snow still hugged the sides of the road. Regardless of how I felt and what the bike gods threw at me, I had to have a go. With every last piece of clothing I had, I mounted my trusty steed with one working front brake, and went for it. Very slowly, as apparently today was the day I felt the altitude. It took only 30 minutes of level ground for me to realise that this was futile. The road surface was unreliable, I couldn’t see and my hands had already frozen. Without much fuss, I got off and said to Mark “That’s it. Game over. My Andes ends on a high, and into a headwind…thank you South America!”

It’s fair to say this was quite a damp squib end to 6600km of epicness, and not really how I had visualised the end of a continent, but that’s adventure!

We finished the day in the car, in a city I’d rather forget. The staff at the hotel didn’t seem to understand they were in the hospitality industry, and couldn’t look us in the eye. We felt unsafe in the streets and Mark was short-changed in a shop, guarded by two youths drinking alcohol. It was the first time we’d been anywhere where western, non-traditional dress was all that could be seen. No beautiful Peruvian women, and within 5 minutes of walking, we watched police chase and catch a guy who had nicked a motorbike.

Thursday 31 March - Tuesday 5 April

We were only supposed to be in Lima for 24 hours. As a thank you to Mark, I’d booked a fabulous and great value truly five star hotel, and as far as you can with a dicky tummy, we went to town: a massage, spa, dinner and a room overlooking Lima - as it turned out that’s as close as we wanted to get, the following days would reveal.

The next day, we ran the gauntlet once again and were presented with the worst driving en masse either of us is likely to ever experience. I challenge anyone to find a city worse than Lima for motorists. It was so bad, I looked up some figures. 2.8% of all deaths in Peru are from road traffic accidents. You have more than a 1:50 chance of dying in a crash on the road. It’s astounding! Mark somehow kept us both safe, but a few days later, in what should have been the most reputable taxi firm in the country, we got first hand exposure to Grand Theft Auto, as our driver seemed to lean permanently on his horn, and speed up rather than slow down towards stationary traffic. Never mind the very pregnant woman crossing at a supposed Zebra crossing - she got the horn, the driver seeming also to forget where his brake pedal was. If you ever go to Lima, don’t drive and don’t get a taxi. You’ve been warned.

The farce that followed our arrival at the airport couldn’t be written, but here I am writing about it. I’ll try and summarise in a paragraph.

Whilst waiting for our first flight at the airport Holiday Inn, I received a cancellation email from Spirit. No reason, just cancelled. Immediately jumping on to find a replacement flight, I watched tickets rise from $400 to $4000 in a matter of minutes. Consulting with Mark, we opted to do the sensible thing and book with a reputable airline, American Airlines, at 6:50 two days later, and stay at the Holiday Inn. We checked in 3 hours before and dutifully made our way to the boarding gate, when the flight was first delayed, and then 7 emails came through in close succession, eventually pushing the flight out to Monday. Shambolic and angry scenes ensued as Karens appeared from all directions and people started fronting up to other people. Eventually, we were all told the airline would put us up for the night and sent us on our merry way. 2 hours later, another cancellation via a letter put under our hotel door whilst we were in the room. The flight was cancelled again and no time rescheduled. On Monday, we received confirmation we would fly Tuesday at 7. We eventually flew at 8, Mark having to change his onward flight to the UK 4 times. I’ve taken out all the emotion from these 5 days, but I think it’s fair to say, it wasn’t part of the journey I will relish in years to come. 3 COVID tests all came back clear but ironically, having spent so much time at the airport surrounded by lots of people, I picked up a stinking cold which I still have today.

Reflecting on Peru

I’m so glad I saw Peru in the order that I did, as it didn’t get any better in Lima. I will remember Peru for its regional dress, the women whose hats changed from bowlers to sequinned trilbies to wide brimmed Panama hats, the street dogs who chased me in every village and up every mountain, the ever changing vistas, from arid deserts to lush green valleys. Although it seemed poor by British standards, the people were openly happy and friendly, and it felt like nothing had changed since time began in the way they lived. I want to believe that people from Lima and Chinca Alta have never crossed into the mountains and that they never will. Their cars wouldn’t last five seconds (the expensive ones anyway). I will be happy to forget the chicken and rice with potatoes which accounted for about 90% of our meals, and for me, not only in Peru, but Bolivia and Argentina too!

I hope for Peru they start to feel motivated to sort out their rubbish dumping, it made me feel so sad. It’s easy for me to think they can simply resolve this issue but what do I know as a tourist with rose coloured spectacles? I wish I was in a position to influence change but that would be naive.

Mark says stoically that he loved his 3 week adventure. I find this difficult to believe, given the Herculean effort he completed driving so far and also putting up with me, both well and unwell. It was a good test for us too - stuck together mostly just us for such long and arduous stages, and what was in it for him? He said he would never have come to Peru if it wasn’t for me. He was meant to be my protection from all the rumoured criminals waiting to pounce on me as I rode through the remote country but actually, he was just great company. It completely changed the trip I’d planned, but if he’d not been there, even without being unwell, it would have taken longer than the 12 days I’d planned, and being at altitude and in the rainy season, so cold, wouldn’t have been half the fun on my own. We can now talk about our crazy trip in Peru, which has made the feelings I had in Bolivia melt away, and helped me prepare for the time to come, North America, starting tomorrow.

After South America, surely the USA has to be a piece of cake…right?

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vegetacide · 3 years

Text

TaG: Bloodlines (Part 9 Bit 2 )

Veg • notables: Second part... long chunk...

Any errors in this are strictly my own

Ty to @gumnut-logic and @scribbles97 for the brainstorming help and the encouragement.

Chapter 1 | Previous Chapter | Next

Rating and General warning: Mature content head. If you are not a fan of medical issues of a female nature in relation to pregnancy please proceed with caution.

Characters: Virgil/Kayo and various others

E N J O Y

8-8-8

Part 9 - Dipisahkan (Bit 2)

They managed to delay the move for a few more weeks. Using the very active storm season that had just kicked off in the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean as a good excuse to push things out a bit.

Virgil knew that the stall tactic was starting to wear thin and their Doctor was getting anxious as Kayo hit the six month mark with no further improvement made.

Dragging a grease smeared hand through his hair as a bolt refused to budge, Virgil swore and leaned against the side of the pod. He was making work for himself for the sake of making work. Avoiding the packing that Kayo had slowly started to do over the last week.

They had no more excuse, they had to move. He hated the fact that he would be of no help if an emergency came up but he hated it even more that he was going to be leaving Kayo in less than weeks time. That is if they got the packing done.

Procrastination was certainly something Virgil didn’t usually have in his wheelhouse and it irked him that he’d been doing just that for the last twelve hours or so.

Grabbing a rag, he wiped his hands and tossed it on his work bench. He wasn’t getting anywhere with this pod anyway. He knew when he’d pulled the maintenance hatch off that the thing was only fit for recycling. A trip off a cliff side and into a raging river had done in its circuitry when its reinforced haul had been breached as it had been smashed about. The silt in the hydraulics along was enough to force a complete rebuild.

Luckily at the time no one had been inside the pod. Brains and him had over engineered them with pilot safety in mind but even with all that had one of them been aboard at the time the ledge had given out.. Well lets just say they would be down a brother permanently.

As it was after the interchangeable craft had tumbled, Alan had gotten caught up in a lead line that was being used to stabilize a raft while Scott played a tantalizing game of ‘pluck a rafter from the rapids’. If it hadn’t been for Virgil’s quick thinking as he’d dived and cut the line, Alan would have a lot been worse off. Sprained ankles were a pain to deal with but it was better off than dead.

He was mending though and driving them all nuts as he fought a serious case of boredom, The complete opposite to his wife’s quiet brooding that was for sure despite the fact that they have pretty much all grown up together. Thankfully his little brother's antsy trait hadn’t spread or they would all be in serious trouble.

Packing up his tools, he took one last look at his work space..kicked himself for procrastinating yet again and marched his butt upstairs to help his wife pack.

Packing went surprisingly quickly once the pair of them really got into it. Kayo having spent so much time traveling around was very adept and efficient at the task and before they knew it they were stowing the last few bags away on the family jet and saying their goodbyes.

The boys were all there to see them off, Alan hobbling along on a set of crutches. Grandma gave both of them a big hug as a send off and made them promise to check in with her daily even though she was going to be paying them a visit soon enough. She traveled to the mainland on a regular so popping in was an easy enough side jaunt for her.

Jeff was last in line to see them off and he kissed Kayo in the cheek whispering something in her ear that made her eyes well up with tears and gave his son a good clap on the back.

“Keep in contact and let us know when you make it to the house.” His father intoned after a hearty handshake.

“Will do.”

It wasn’t like they were going to be that far away as the ‘bird flies but the family had only just fully reformed as a single unit and none of them wanted to be parted for long.

After fist bumping Alan, nodding to John and one arm hugging Scott, he and Kayo got on board. Gordon brought up the rear with a whistle and a spring to his step. He’d volunteered to give them a hand knowing full well that Lady Penelope was going to be waiting for them on the tarmac in Auckland.

The trip after that was kind of a blur. He’d done the crossing so many times in Two that he could do the trip in his sleep though this time it was at a more sedate pace.

When they arrived, security was already on the ground waiting for them along with Penny who greeted them with a polite smile and a wink Gordon’s way as he basically skipped down the gangway.

Ushered into a waiting Fab 1 with the appropriate escort in tow, Penny hit the control to tint the windows and off them went.

“Oh this is lovely,” Penelope pronounced as the car slowed and passed through a large set of gates some time later. On the other side were two rows of pohutukawa trees, their trunks thick with age and their canopies full and resplendent even in the off season. Dappled light peaked though its lush leaves and danced merrily across a red gravel lined laneway that curved up to a beautiful colonial style house.

The grounds surrounding the two story home were impeccably tended and flush with every imaginable shade of green. Gardens sat nestled below fine picture windows framed by dark teal shutters and off set by curly-que wrought iron trellises.

The home itself was large enough to fit the whole family but not so big that it was ostentatious. Its white siding was quant and its front door though sheltered by columns and a tiled roof overhang was welcoming and warm.

It blended in perfectly with the neighbouring houses and the quietness of this section of Parnell made it the ideal location to lay low.

Very few people knew that the Tracy’s even owned property here as it was far removed from their company’s various global headquarters and this particular location was under title of one of their many subsidiaries.

Fab 1 coasted up the driveway with ease; the red gravel crunching under the tire as the custom car came to a stop just outside the front door. Their dark colour escort vehicles pulling up behind, security disembarking even before the SUVs had finished moving.

Swarming over their temporary lodgings and ground like ants even though there was an all seeing eye keeping watch from above and more security within its wall than most banks.

The whole search and secure took only a few moments and when completed there was a tap tap on the car window. The darkened glass rolled down an inch and a hushed but professional voice of one of the personnel rattled off a quick all clear. “Baxter and Jenkins are already inside, Sir. Grounds secure.”

Penny turned to them as the black clad guard pulled back from the car and went to assume a position by the front door. “Are you sure that this location will be adequate for your purposes? You are more than welcome to take up residence at my chateau in Perth.”

“Thank you Lady Penelope but we will be fine here for the duration. There’s more security here now than at Fort Knox. Plus,,” He pointed upwards. “The all seeing eye is keeping tabs on the place. Really with EoS buzzing about the circuitry and cameras we will be okay. On top of that, the plane is sitting on standby if we need to bolt and we’re got priority departure status if the need arises. We can have wheels up and be airborne in a manner of minutes.”

Penny seemed appeased by his reassurances despite his own doubts about everything..He didn’t like being out here anymore then the rest of them but what choice did they have. They would just have to make the most of it and really even though the house wasn’t used often no expense had been spared getting it ready for them to occupy.

Knowing their escort was getting twitchy with them just sitting there, Virgil took the initiative and opened the car door.

Stepping out it was only than that he noticed that Fab 1 was sporting a different colour from when he’d gotten in. The curious look on his face must have drawn Parker’s attention for the driver simply said. “Pink, though nice h’is a whee bit noticeable.”

“Ah yes “ Penny smiled tightly, her hand in Gordon’s as he helped her out. “Counter surveillance tactic. It is such a dreadful colour though. We must program the camo cells with something more...fashionable than slate grey.”

“Yellow’s a nice colour.” Gordon contributed with a grin trying to ease some of the tension and Penny’s lady-like tinkle of laughter followed.

“It is but decidedly attention grabbing, darling.” She leaned slightly into the aquanaut, aristocratic propriety be damned and pecked him on the cheek. It was obvious she’d picked up on Gordon's subtle plan to pop the stress balloon that surrounded them and had decided that she would help in her own way.

Kayo had stayed decidedly quiet even for her throughout the whole exchange and when Virgil went to give her a hand out of the car her hand was cold in his. “Alright?”

She nodded mutely, eyes scanning and ever assessing her surroundings and her free hand cupped protectively over her middle through the swell of it was lost under the folds of her open cardigan.

“Kayo,” The guards acknowledged her as they passed through the front doors, standing a little taller at their posts.

Once inside and the door firmly closed behind them, they were greeted by a later afternoon sunlit foyer and a curved stairway lined with painting. Some of which were copies of Virgil’s personal work. A touch of home that someone had added during one of their previous stays at the house.

Off to one side through a large archway was a cozy sitting room. Plush cushioned seating was placed about to create comfortable conversation areas all bracketed by dark wood side tables with an assortment of tasteful lamps. One wall was taken up by the large expanse of built in shelving with an artful arrangement of leather bound books and eclectic knick-knacks and pottery. Centered across from the entry was a grand mantle and open faced fireplace, a fire crackling happily away in the hearth and chasing the coolness from the air away with a wonderful scent of Applewood.

On the other side of the foyer a set of glass paned double doors sat open to reveal a long, glossy dining table with accompanying chairs and a beautiful carved sideboard. The walls were bisected by hand crafted wood paneling in a contrasting white while the upper portion was a deep maroon. A heavy framed gilded mirror floated above the side board making the space appear even larger than it was and candles of various sizes flickered and reflected back at them invitingly.

It had been ages since Virgil had set foot in this house. The last time being after they’d lost their father. Usually the house was used as a tucked away spot to house Tracy Industry guests and their family when there was a need but it had only been used a half dozen times in the last eight or so years. With the sudden disappearance of their business priorities has shifted somewhat and the boys were never in town long enough to demand out of towners to do the same.

Most stuff these days was handled though holo with the odd exception here and there. Even those were only brief in person exchanges that took place within the confines of the company walls in whatever country that was deemed an appropriate location. Quick, concise trips that got them back to the island and their families main function of first responders.

Settling a bag at the base of the stairs, Virgil relaxed only slightly at being sheltered out of sight. The building though charming held an array of emotions that he didn’t really feel inclined to revisit but out of all the properties they own this was one that was off the radar of the local media. Mainly because they spent an exorbitant amount of credits keeping it that way.

Looking at his wife as she peered into the living room, he contemplated tucking her away in bed. She looked a little haggard from the short journey here and he wanted to make that transition as easy on her as possible.

Just as he was about to suggest this through a door tucked behind the stairs opened and two plain clothed TI staffers came out. Even dressed as they were in casual and comfortable clothing their straight back posture and alert eyes gave them away from what they were.

“Baxter, Jenkins.” Kayo said by way of greeting as they approached her even though she was off duty. Her voice was steady contrary to her weary state, shoulders tight and high.

“Ma'am.” They greeting in kind, coming to stand in front of them at parade rest. You could take the employee out of the Marines but obviously not the Marines out of the employee. “Everything is in order as arranged. No whispers on any social media. Your arrival has gone unnoticed.”

She gave a curt nod and the pair disappeared out the front door to give Parker a hand with the bags.

“Well, this has been a delightful trip.” Lady Penny spoke up. “I would love a cup of tea, anyone else?”

“Right ah’way, M’lady.” Parker said with a huff as he set down the bags he'd brought in. “I’ll bring it to the parlour.”

“Wonderful, Parker. Thank you.”

The distraction was a welcome relief from all the hubbub of the relocation and Virgil took the opportunity to check on Kayo, away from the prying eyes of the others.

“Hey, you sure you’re alright?” He took her cold hand in his again and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

She sighed, the action deflating and slumping her shoulders, “Just tired.”

Inspected her face and satisfied that she wasn’t holding anything back, he nodded in agreement. It had been a long day after all and emotions were running high despite all the planning.

“Why don’t you go up,” He suggested, canting his head towards the stairs at her back. “I’ll bring you up a warm drink and something to eat once everything from the car is brought in.”

Rising up on her toes she brushed a kiss over his cheek, no fight in her quiet response as she turned and tiredly went up the stairs.

Resting a hand on the banisters, he kept a watchful eye on her as she slowly ascended, worry creasing his brow.

“Everything okay, Bro?” Gordon piped up from behind him.

Forcing a smile.. “Ya, everything's fine. Just been a long day.”

8-8-8

TBC

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#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #TaG Bloodlines #vegetacide #Virgil Tracy #Kayo Kyrano #virgil/kayo #Virgil X Kayo #Tracy Family

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queencatherynerhys · 4 years

Text

Taken - Part 12

A/N: I know it’s been forever since I’ve updated this series, but I still constantly go back to it. I must have worked on this chapter, and revised it 15 times. I just wasn’t satisfied on how it kept turning out. It’s been 2 years since I started this series, but hopefully, one day I will finish it.

Summary: Liam deals with Catheryne’s disappearance, and we also take a quick look on Catheryne’s journey out of Cordonia.

Tag List: @devineinterventions2 @madaraism @theroyalweisme @drakewalkerwhipped @laniquelove-blog @drakesfiance @hhiggs @hellospunkiebrewster @alicars @mrswalkerreynolds @mfackenthal @simplyaiden-blog @hopefulmoonobject @blackcatkita @cocomaxley @boneandfur @lizeboredom @crayziimaginations @umccall71 @zarina-x-zig @ranishajay @heatherfilliez @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @mom2000aggie

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. They solely belong to Pixelberry. Also, credits for the image used for the book cover.

*CATCH UP HERE*

Liam dismisses Drake after a long, tense conversation about Catheryne and her sudden disappearance. He is determined to find her, so he summons for Bastien to come to his office right away.

He waits for his head of security outside in his balcony with a glass of scotch in hand. One question keeps eating away in his mind. How do you find someone who doesn’t want to be found? Is finding her even what fate wants him to do? Screw fate. I love her. I will never stop looking until I find her. He has to hold onto the tiny hope of finding and being with her again if he is to remain sane.

After a few minutes of waiting, Bastien finally arrives in his office.

“Your Majesty, you summoned for me?” Bastien greets him formally.

“Yes, thank you for coming, Bastien,” he replies as he moves to sit down at his desk.

“I won’t beat around the bush. Catheryne has left and disappeared. I need you to arrange a small task force to search for her. Use any resources you need to do that. Start your search at the airport and any other forms of travel. If she’s left the country, travel manifests and workers must have recognized her. I want to know where she’s headed. I want an update on every information you uncover,” he relays his tasks to his trusted head of security and friend. Bastien didn’t seem too fazed about learning that Catheryne disappeared so suddenly.

“I will get that done right away, sir. And as asked, I do have information for you. Duchess Catheryne’s horse, Nightingale, has just returned to the palace a while ago. She’s a smart horse. She must have found her way back on her own. We’re guessing Her Grace didn’t take her too far before finding another mode of transportation,” Bastien informs his king.

“Thank you for the update, Bastien. You may go,” Liam nods toward the door as a sign of the end of their brief meeting. When the door closes, he finally lets himself grieve. His shoulders slump forward with the burden he carries. Tears of loss, exhaustion, and pain fall and he has no strength left to hold them back.

His runs his fingers through his hair as he wonders why this is happening to him. Have I done something wrong that fate or destiny sees that I suffer? Was it such a big request that I marry not just for country but for love, too? All he wanted was to be a good king for his people and rule them with Catheryne by his side, but he guess that was even too much to ask or wish.’

Half of the day passes, and Liam tries to muster enough focus to get work done. Policies need to be reviewed and signed, but he just didn’t have the energy to do it. His heart and mind ached for Catheryne’s presence. Just to see her smile, hear her voice and laughter ring down the hall, and feel her touch would heal the deep hole she left in his heart.

Liam is startled by the sound of the opening door. When he looks up, Bastien is once again standing in front of him. Bastien begins to bow, but Liam interrupts him.

“No need for formalities, Bastien. Just give me the report. Have you found anything useful on where Catheryne is heading?” Liam asked.

“After a thorough search of all modes of transportations, we found no clues of where Her Grace might be heading. We’ve warned agencies to not disclose the reason of why were searching for her. But after looking at every manifest from all forms of travel out of the country, we found no trace of her.

Her name wasn’t in any of them nor did anyone recognize her. We are speculating that with her…background…that she must have known to use an alias and a disguise to avoid being found,” Bastien finishes his report, and Liam loses even more of the tiny hope he is clinging onto. I should have known that she wouldn’t make it easy for me to find her. He lets out a deep sigh.

“Thank you, Bastien. If there’s anything we’ve learned anything about Catheryne by now is that she doesn’t do anything in half style, but I’m not giving up hope. I want you to use any resources to find her. Search through security feeds from the airport and other areas. Look for anyone that might resemble her. If that doesn’t turn up anything, branch out to other countries. I’m not losing hope,” Liam commands.

He is not losing hope. It seems the beginning of his new mantra. He will scour the face of the earth if he has to. He needs her. He can’t live without her.

~Catheryne’s POV~

Catheryne races away from the place she calls home. It takes all of her willpower to not look and turn back around. She knows that she needs to leave, but she can’t bear the thought of what Liam will go through when he wakes up.

She tries to pull her mind away before it drowns with any more guilt. She concentrates on the sounds and feel of Nightingale’s powerful stride. Before she knew it, they’ve arrived on the location where they part ways. She decided not to take her too far away.

She tugs at her horse’s reins to slow her down. When they come to a stop, she dismounts the black horse and pulls her towards the blanket of the trees to avoid being seen. She gently strokes her loyal mare’s forehead.

“Thanks, girl. For everything. But I’m afraid this is the end of our journey together. I trust that a smart horse like you can find her way back home. I know Drake will take extra good care of you,” she whispers to her equine friend. Nightingale responds with a resounding neigh and touches forehead with her as if begging Catheryne to don’t go in her own language.

“I’m sorry, Nightingale. I have to go, but I want you to watch over my friends, ok. Take care of them, and make them happy,” her voice cracks as she backs away from her. The horse tries to get closer to her, but Catheryne replied with the shake of her head.

“No, girl. You have to go, ok? Go,” she points towards where they came from. Nightingale obeyed, but before galloping away, looks back at Catheryne with sad eyes.

“Goodbye, Nightingale,” Catheryne bids her farewell and pats her rump to send her back home. She watches as the black racehorse sprints back toward the palace.

Catheryne takes a deep breath and continued her journey. I will not cry here. She rummages in her backpack for the items she needs for her disguise. She pulls out a wig, a pair of glasses, and a US passport. One important thing her parents taught her was to always have a bug out bag packed with different named passports and types of currencies. It made her escape easier to execute.

She has been planning her leave within the last 2 months. She coordinated a taxi cab to pick her up near the boardwalk where she and her gang of friends had their first late night excursion to get cronuts.

As she walks down the quiet, eerie streets, she relives the memory of the social season and the exhausting tour of Liam and Madeline’s engagement. It was the first time in her life she tasted what it felt like to not be her parent’s daughter. All her life she spent running away from her demons, until she met Liam. He brought happiness and reprieve that she was longing for.

Sure, they had problems along the way with the conspiracy against her, but she thought she would finally be free, then she was kidnapped and manipulated by those bastards. Now, she’s…she doesn’t even know who she is.

She doesn’t know how to fit in the world, her world. She couldn’t stand the looks anymore. She knew running away looks weak and, even, cowardly, but she didn’t know how to heal emotionally in the confines of the palace and courtly politics.

Before she can get deeper in her insecurities, she sees the red light of the taxi she ordered. She climbs in the back and asks the driver to take her to the airport. It was a quick fifteen minute drive. She exchanged no words upon arrival, only handing the payment for fare and gratuity to the equally silent driver.

The airport was busy with tourist, even in the middle of the night. Ever since the arrival and rise of the American duchess in Cordonia, travelers have been flooding the tiny, fairytale-like country. She hopes that they will love this beautiful land as much as she does.

Her journey through security and to the gate was smoother than she previously anticipated. She sits down by the large picturesque window and watches as dusk makes way for dawn. She waits for half and hour before the attendant calls for boarding to begin. It wasn’t long before till her plane is taxiing on the tarmac.

She looks out her window to the wonderful place below. She sees the grand palace, and the tears she’s been holding back finally rolls down her face. In the glistening golden building, her king lies peacefully asleep dreaming of good things before waking up and finding her gone. I’m so sorry, my love. I hope one day you’ll forgive me for leaving.

She closes her eyes as she takes a deep breath. She doesn’t know what the future lies ahead for her and Liam, but before anything can happen she must first find herself again and who knows how long that will take or if she ever will?

#play choices #choices the royal romance #choices trr #trr liam #king liam #liam rhys #liam x mc #taken #romance #hurt #angst #dark

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need-a-new-hobby · 4 years

Text

Haunted

Spencer had his leg propped up on the coffee table, crutches just within reaching distance, while he read Fahrenheit 451 when he heard the door unlock. Instinctively, he reached for his gun but paused as he saw a large paper bag walk in with Piper behind it. “You said you were bringing dinner.”

“Takeout isn’t dinner,” Piper scoffed, plopping the keys into a bowl and placing her groceries carefully onto the kitchen countertop. Spencer moved his leg off the table slowly, limping over to the stools next to the countertop, frowning at the green vegetables. “You look like you’ve never seen a vegetable before.”

“I saw Lisbon, didn’t I?” Piper laughed as she set the water to boil on the stove. She moved to tie her hair up, grinning as she took the elastic Spencer offered.

“You know, you always have those bands, you never wear them.” Piper’s smile faded as he blushed. She leaned over the countertop, brushing his lips before turning back to the water. He watched her clean the stalks of spaghetti before sliding it in carefully.

“You know, Rossi makes his own noodles.” Piper smiled.

“I’m gonna tell him you called his handmade carbonara ‘noodles’. Besides, Rossi’s actually Italian.”

“Right. And what are you?”

“I am…trying my best,” she grinned at him before pulling out the cherry tomatoes and sliding them over to Spencer.

“No, I’m— I’m not good at this,” Spencer stammered, pushing the tomatoes back.

“Spencer, you just have to halve them.” She pouted.

“But what if they fly and hit you like last time? No, no thanks.” He leaned away from the countertop.

“Spence, it’s not that hard. Look,” she said, grabbing a chopping board and a knife. “All you have to do is hold the tomato between two fingers, slip the knife between and slice. That’s it.” Piper gently placed his fingers on each side of the small tomato, watching his hands carefully as he sliced through. “See, easy.”

She let Spencer have fun with the tomatoes as she put together a quick marinade for the chicken and started frying. Soon, the smell of food permeated the apartment as Spencer chopped tomatoes and grated cheese, then spotted the onion. Piper still had his back to him as she cooked the spaghetti, coating it with a rich sauce. Spencer grabbed the onion and started peeling. He cut the onion slowly through the middle and kept the cut sides on the board like he’d seen her do a million times. He sliced through the onion, gaining confidence with each slice. His eyebrows furrowed as his teeth dug slightly into his lower lip in concentration. He looked up as Piper yelped, blowing on her finger. Wincing, she ran it under the water, looking back as Spencer mirrored her wince, slicing his finger by accident.

Abandoning her finger, she grabbed his hand and sucked on the wound before ordering him to keep the pressure on it while she searched for the first aid kit. She grabbed a purple band-aid and ran back as she peeled the plastic away, wrapping it tightly around his finger. “You idiot,” Piper muttered as she checked his finger was okay. “Who told you to chop that onion?” Spencer gently grabbed her burnt hand and she winced, eyes flicking up to his. He started dabbing burn ointment on it gently and suddenly, the pain melted away as she watched him blow gently on her hand until she remembered the food. “My pasta!” Piper whipped around, running to the stove to turn the gas off, sighing in relief while Spencer laughed from behind her. She rubbed the ointment into her finger and pulled on a glove before she scooped the vegetables Spencer had so delicately prepared. She tossed it all together before adding a dash of salt, pepper and olive oil. She grabbed two plates from the inner cabinet and served both of them after setting the table and helping Spencer to his seat.

“You know, the word spaghetti is the plural of spaghetto, which comes from the Italian word spago, meaning twine or thin string,” Spencer nodded as he grabbed his fork.

“Italy makes 3 tonnes of this stuff every year,” Piper said as she sat down. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Not really. The average American consumes nearly 9 kg of pasta annually.”

“Huh.” Piper thought as she chewed her mouthful. “Wonder what would happen if we cooked it all at once.” Spencer choked at the thought and Piper laughed as she passed him a glass of water.

“Rossi would drown you with it.” They spent most nights like this. Just eating together and laughing. Sometimes they’d fall silent with the food just being that good. Eventually, it came to an end. Like it always did. She’d clear up the table, then the kitchen while he’d protest to try and help. And then she left, pressing a small kiss to his forehead. That was the worst part. Listening to the apartment quieten. Feeling the apartment become a little colder.

In the morning, Rossi helped Spencer into his car, placing the crutches in the back. Spencer found a warm cup of coffee sitting on his desk with a little sticky note left on the top. He recognised the little doodle of a coffee and the neatly scrawled pun below, ‘Don’t feel depresso, have an espresso.’ He looked over to Piper’s empty desk. Smiling, he lifted the little note, sticking it on his monitor before scrawling his own. He rolled his chair over to her desk, sticking the pun on her monitor. ‘I love you a whole latte.’

Slowly, he grabbed one of his crutches and moved over to Garcia’s lair. She yelped happily and helped him into a seat before returning to her own. “Thanks.”

“Does it hurt?” Penelope asked as she resumed her seat.

“It really only hurts when I think about it, which is pretty much all the time.” Spencer smiled at his cheerful friend before noticing the cookie box. Except Penelope slapped his hands away.

“Get away, you. These are for Hotch.”

“I get shot in the leg and I don't get any cookies,” he pouted until Penelope handed him a lollipop. “You know he's gonna hate the attention.”

“It's cookies, not cake.”

“He's probably gonna pretend like nothing happened, anyway.”

“Well, it doesn't mean we have to.”

“I think maybe we should.”

“I don't roll that way,” Penelope shook her head.

“I've been thinking about it. The entire time I've known Hotch, I don't think I've ever seen him blink.”

“I know. It's weird.”

“Classic alpha male behaviour.”

“Do you think he stared down Foyet?”

“Maybe. If it would save his life.”

“Do you think he stared the whole time, like with each stab?”

“I have no idea.”

“Is he ok?”

“I wouldn't be, but... I'm a blinker,” Spencer said as JJ entered the lair.

“Spence, there you are. Grab your go-bag. We’re going to Louisville.”

“Just after 8:00 this morning, 40-year-old Darrin Call assaulted customers at a pharmacy,” JJ briefed them on the jet as Piper and Derek flipped through the file. “Eyewitnesses saw him walking east on main street minutes after the attack. He hasn’t been seen since then.”

“Do we have footage from the scene?” Piper asked JJ.

“They’ll have it ready for us at the precinct. The governor’s called in all sources for a manhunt. We have 3 confirmed dead, 2 are in critical condition. Our point person in Louisville is Lieutenant Kevin Mitchell.”

“Any other attacks?”

“Um, no, not yet. Call's proven hard to track.”

“He's never had a driver's license, so he's most likely still on foot.”

“Or public transportation,” JJ offered.

“He's not gonna take the bus. His face is everywhere,” Morgan explained.

“Has anyone found a stressor?” Hotch asked.

“He just lost his job. He's worked at a factory since 1990. Made appliances since forever and not a single promotion.” Piper smiled at the sight of Garcia.

“That's a long time to be bitter,” Emily pointed out.

“Or he doesn't care,” Spencer added.

“Not if he's got a family to feed,” Piper contributed.

“Actually, he's of the hermit variety. As far as I can tell, he's got no one. No wife, no kids, no parents.”

“Nothing to live for.” Hotch put the question to the team. “Sprees usually end in suicide. If he's got nothing to live for, why hasn't he ended it?”

“Because he isn't finished yet. We know he has displaced anger. He took it out on the first victim,” Rossi answered.

“Well, the stock boy represents someone. We need to know who.”

“Is he military?”

“Negative.”

“Well, he's lashing out for a reason,” Morgan surmised. “This guy's got anger, endless targets, and a gun, and he's just getting started.”

“Prentiss and Rossi take Call’s address. Morgan and I will see the crime scene. Reid and Bishop go through the security footage. Frame by frame, you understand?” Piper nodded, leaning back in her chair as she watched the plane hit the tarmac.

At the precinct, Piper took Spencer’s 4th cup of coffee, handing it to JJ who was helping with the geographic profile. “All right. We've got checkpoints at the state line on both I-64 and I-65 and within a 20-mile radius of downtown.”

“It's been just under 3 hours with an average walking speed of 2.5 miles per hour, which rounds up to an approximate 8-mile radius,” Spencer calculated. “Did you get anything from the footage?”

“Yeah,” Piper answered, taking a seat next to Spencer. “So, he doesn’t attack anyone until the stock boy touches his arm which made me think that that was the trigger.”

“Like a sensory trigger?”

“Exactly. Especially considering the fact that the stock boy was carrying a knife. Do we know why he was at the pharmacy?”

“What do you—” Spencer asked, looking back at JJ. “Did he not go in to kill?”

“He was unarmed when he entered. The weapon he used was the stock boy’s knife, then the police officer’s gun. He probably went to get…” Piper trailed off in thought before calling Garcia on the answering machine. “Garcia, I need full medical charts on Darrin Call, specifically a list of prescriptions.”

“Hold on, are we saying that this was defensive? We just put his face everywhere,” the lieutenant spoke rapidly, panicking. “People are going to try and stop him themselves.”

“Relax, sir.” JJ’s voice was soothing. “How soon can we have a press conference?”

“We have uh… camera crews ready outside.” JJ nodded, leaving to dial Hotch.

“Hey, Pen, you got those prescriptions for me?” Piper repeated.

“He used to be on thiothixene.”

“He had an antipsychotic prescription?” Piper all but shrieked as she dialled Hotch. “Nothing. Just comes up as busy. Garcia, I need a doctor.”

“Yeah, just give me a… state-appointed psychiatrist Charles Cipolla.”

“Alright, send me an address.” Piper pressed a quick kiss to Spencer’s cheek before he said he’d tell Hotch as soon as he could. Piper weaved through traffic on her way to the office. She pulled off her helmet, racing up the steps, opening the office doors to find 2 bodies mangled on the floor. Her shoulders sagged as she dialled Reid. “I wasn’t fast enough. They’re dead. Let Hotch know and I need forensics here.” Piper sighed as she sagged to the floor in the corridor, letting CSI do their job when they arrived just before Hotch and Morgan along with Mitchell, Prentiss and Rossi.

“Hey, Reid told us what happened. You okay?” Piper nodded, getting up.

“Yeah. I was too late. Couldn’t have been more than 5 minutes.” Hotch entered the small office, repulsed by the figures lain on the floor.

“Yeah, you were,” Hotch shot at her before leaving downstairs. Piper watched helplessly as Emily followed him.

“The pharmacist said he wasn’t on his medication,” Derek updated. “Why would he do that?”

“A lot of trauma patients do it to recover memories,” Piper explained, pulling her eyes away from the stairwell to Derek as Rossi moved to the file drawer, scanning the names.

“Why?”

“Lots of reasons, the main one being you can’t heal from your trauma if you don’t know what happened. In which case, the formative event was probably in Call’s childhood. Other than that, it could be recurring dreams or just plain curiosity.”

“Call’s file is missing.”

“That’s fine. There’s a digital database for all state departments,” Piper solved, moving to the computer.

“What are you doing?”

“All state psychiatrists have a department login. But they don’t disappear when they retire for consultation reasons.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning my login still works.” Piper beamed at Derek. “And if I still have departmental access, then…” she trailed off, gazing expectantly at the printer, pulling out a copy of the file. “I can pull the file. Alright, I’m gonna go back to the precinct, see what I can make of this. Have fun, boys.” She waved before taking the steps two at a time. Back at the precinct, Garcia connected a call between Reid, herself and Hotch.

“Here's the deal. I went back to the beginning for the call, except there is no beginning. Darrin call didn't exist like from 1969 to 1975. There's no birth certificate, no social security, no identity, nothing until he was 6 years old.”

“Guys, if he was abandoned in the 70s, it’s likely his case revolved around something seriously twisted,” Piper thought aloud.

Morgan’s voice flooded the machine. “Garcia, where do the records start?”

“May 1, 1975, a 6-year-old Darrin Call was found roaming in the middle of nowhere and was picked up and was in state care for the first few months.”

“Pen, I’m gonna need state transcripts.”

“That’s the thing my doves. Because he didn't talk, Not for over a year. And once he started talking, he only knew his life as Darrin Call. Little Darrin was never even claimed. But never fear for I’ve got more.”

“This one of your jackpot surprises, Garcia?”

“Oh, for you, sugar, always. So, listen up. Call left Louisville 3 times. Always came back to the same 10-Block radius.”

“Victims are often drawn to the scene of their first trauma,” Piper filled in.

“Part of him wanted to escape, the other part probably struggled to find answers,” Spencer continued.

“In 1985, he was hospitalised and again in '95 for a few months, both at the state facility in Fayette County. That’s all I got for now.”

“Bishop, what about the file? You get anything?” Hotch’s voice was direct, straightforward but colder than usual.

“More like what didn’t we get. His moral complex is severely damaged probably as a result of neglect. Nightmares and chronic insomnia, scars that he doesn’t know when or how he received. His dreams are about falling and running, all pointing to abandonment issues. He’s suffered from blackouts, probably resulting from early trauma. He’s lethargic, explains why he stayed in the same job for so long. Hotch, this guy is gonna be hard to—” The line disconnected. “Hotch?” Piper raised an eyebrow at Spencer who just shrugged. He turned to Lieutenant Mitchell, asking him about unsolved missing children's cases from the 1970s.

“Now, there was a case in Hollow Creek. Kids were dead, though. Found them in pieces.”

“When was this?”

“'75. Nobody talks about it because they never found the guy. You think Call walked away from there?”

“It's possible. Can you get us the files?” The lieutenant came back with two boxes just as the rest of the team filed in.

“Is there a suspect list?” Rossi took a seat while Piper leaned over Spencer’s shoulder reading the police reports.

“It's in here somewhere,” Reid murmured. “He was known as the Hollow Creek killer. 3 bodies were found, some never identified.”

“There's a survivor,” Piper added.

“Call?” Rossi looked up.

“No, a 12-year-old boy named Tommy Phillips,” Spencer explained. “Parents said he'd been missing for 2 weeks, came back a different kid. The family left Louisville after Tommy told police where to find the bodies. He also said the suspect was a white man in his 30s and drove a red pickup truck.”

“The victims had cuts. The stock boy's blade is what set him off in the pharmacy,” Piper pointed out.

“If this is what Call's been running from, it's no wonder he's blocked it out,” JJ sighed as Hotch looked back to the 1975 on the board. Sterner Orphanage.

“Since he's clean now, there's no medication to block his memories and he wants answers,” Emily surmised from her seat.

“Where would he go?”

“To what he knows,” Hotch murmured. “He's beginning to remember. 1975, Sterner Orphanage. It's where he became Darrin Call.” Piper and Emily took a bike while the boys took a single SUV to the orphanage.

“You used to be a state psychiatrist?” Emily murmured into Piper’s ear

“After my PhD,” Piper spoke into the wind. “Worked in the state department for a few years.”

“What changed?” They skidded to a stop outside the orphanage.

“I thought I could do more good making sure people didn’t wind up there in the first place,” Piper said as she took off the helmet and they walked over to Hotch coming back from the ambulance. Piper noticed Derek and Rossi up front talking to witnesses.

“He took a kid this time. Called him Tommy,” Hotch explained.

“As in Tommy Phillips? You think that’s what set him off?” Emily questioned him.

“She thought it was his reflection.”

“Whoever hurt him years ago might have been the same age he is now,” Piper pointed out. “He might have seen the similarity.” They turned to see Lieutenant Mitchell walk up from his vehicle.

“A minivan was stolen one block from here. Call's never driven in his life. You think he's still not running from us?”

“Which way?” Rossi asked.

“Eastbound. I got roadblocks set up everywhere. He's not getting out of this county,” the lieutenant scoffed and Piper motioned Emily to the bike.

“You’re wasting your time,” Hotch murmured.

“He's outnumbered. You think he's gonna just disappear?” The lieutenant’s voice became defensive and Rossi made eye contact with Prentiss and Bishop.

“I think he took the boy for a reason.”

“I don't care why he took him.”

“You should. Call's memory is no longer suppressed,” Hotch explained. “He's reinventing his past, and unless we understand how, we're not gonna find either of them.”

“Well, I'm not gonna just sit around and speculate.”

“Then don't.” Hotch levelled his gaze at the lieutenant who turned to Rossi

“You don't think we should chase him either?”

“We need to get ahead of Call,” Rossi explained, his tone neutral and soothing. Mitchell licked his lips, considering his options, then moved to the vehicle.

“There’s a kid missing, Hotch.” Emily’s voice was laced with warning.

“They don't need the extra manpower.”

“Since when?” Rossi asked softly.

“If we'd studied Foyet's initial crimes, we would have known that a survivor didn't make sense.”

“Hotch, what does he have to do with this?”

“All we had to do was stop and look at Foyet's history, and we didn't, and we lost two couples and a bus full of people. And I'm not making that mistake again.” Hotch led the agents down to the precinct, Derek following behind them.

The precinct was a mess. There were files everywhere as the examined a case more than 30 years old. Hotch divided the group into objectives. While Rossi narrowed down suspect lists, Emily examined victimology. Piper broke down the M.O. with Derek as Spencer gauged the geographic profile of the second unsub. After a solid 20 minutes of working, Hotch brought them together to discuss the details. “There were only 4 suspects in the hollow creek case and they're all dead,” Rossi said grimly.

“The kids were taken in 1973, '74, and '75,” Emily continued.

“All on the way home from school,” Piper interjected.

“Different school districts too,” Spencer added.

“He waited for them to be alone,” Derek pointed out. “That takes patience. He must have had time off in the afternoons.”

“I can’t find a secondary location,” Spencer sighed. “Could be anywhere.”

“He’d need seclusion to do what he did,” Derek added, clapping Reid on the shoulder as Piper answered the phone.

“You’re on speaker, Garcia.”

“I found Tommy. He goes by James Thomas Anderson now.”

“Is he local?”

“One county over. Address and bio are coming...now. Au revoir!” With Hotch and Prentiss leaving for the address, Piper could breathe freely as she sank into a seat next to Spencer while Morgan and JJ left to grab lunch

“That bad, huh?” Spencer noticed and Piper scoffed.

“Look, Spence, you know I love him and I’m here for him. But if he doesn’t talk about what happened to him out there, it’s gonna keep eating at him.” Spencer nodded, discreetly placing a hand on her thigh. “I can’t even imagine what he went through and yeah, therapy sucks but it works.”

“I think he’s afraid that if he talks about it, he won’t be able to focus.” Piper smiled sadly but then noticed Spencer’s far-off look.

“What’s up?”

“How did Tommy and Darrin escape?” Piper was stumped. They started rummaging through the transcripts of the police interview with Tommy. “We know Call was found wandering around a neighbourhood…”

“Reid, the file. It said he had recurring dreams about falling and running. That it was suggestive of abandonment, but who would he have been abandoned by?”

“Tommy. Tommy must have escaped with Darrin. Tommy would’ve been about 12, double Call’s age in 1975.”

“And the reflection,” Piper murmured. “The woman at the orphanage said he was triggered by his reflection.” Suddenly the answering machine rang, and Piper picked up. “Hotch, it’s Call’s father. He’s the Hollow Creek killer.”

“We know. Call wasn't a victim,” Hotch said. “The question is how did the father explain his son just disappeared?”

“Could have said he ran away,” Spencer supplied.

“The mother would have reported him missing,” Hotch refuted.

“Maybe he said the boy died.” Prentiss’s voice came through the monitor.

“No, she'd want a funeral,” Spencer refuted while Piper was deep in thought.

“What if there wasn't one?” Her voice was quiet, and Spencer rubbed circles on her hand under the table.

“Call Garcia,” Hotch directed. “Ask her to check death records from 1969 to 1975 for the mother.” The line disconnected.

“You need a minute?” Piper tried to even her breathing by focusing on Spencer’s circling thumb, sweeping a strand of hair away from her face.

“No. Let’s do this,” she said before stabbing Garcia’s number into the machine and relaying Hotch’s instructions. “What have you got?”

“6 years is a long time, Pipes. I need more parameters.”

“She lived within that 8-mile radius,” Spencer started. “She was married. Most likely in her 20s. He was probably her only kid. The husband drove a red truck.”

“Okay. This could be one. Here we go, Doris Jarvis. Died in childbirth. Had a beautiful baby boy. Was married to Bill Jarvis. He owned a machine shop just outside the city.”

“That could be the secondary location,” Piper noted quietly.

“It closed in 1980. He hasn't done anything since. I guess he laid low. He had a red pickup until 1976 when he bought a black one. I know that because that's what he was driving when he was arrested for DUIs. He was locked up from '77 to '80, And I'm sending his picture now.”

“Thanks, Garcia.” A photo pulled up on Piper’s screen. “Well, that could certainly be Darrin Call's father. Where's Jarvis now?”

“In the same house. 1457 Hitchens Avenue.”

“Alright. Let Hotch know,” Piper said as she got up, squeezing Spencer’s shoulder as she went to grab her vest and mic.

“Be safe, my angels.”

“Always.” Piper fastened the vest outside as she met Derek and Dave. She updated them on the address and started driving. She skidded to a halt just past Hotch’s SUV. She pulled the keys out of the ignition, slipping them into a pocket before she pulled off her helmet. Unhooking her leg from the bike, she approached Emily and the lieutenant as she tied her hair up. “What’s the situation?”

“The kid's in there,” Emily started.

“We've got this,” the lieutenant interjected. “Tactical teams are covering the exits.”

“Call needs a distraction.” Emily reasoned.

“He's focused on the old man.”

“For now. But we're gonna have to figure out the safest way to get that kid out.”

“I've got a team in the back and one on the way. We're going to infiltrate.”

“You do that and someone else dies.”

“Either call or a child murderer... Flip a coin.”

“It doesn't have to end like that,” Piper dissuaded. “We get a confession out of Jarvis and he goes away, and Call gets his answers. No one else has to die.” But just as Piper thought he’d been convinced, Hotch marched past the without a suit jacket or bulletproof vest. “Hotch?” But he kept walking straight towards the house. “Hotch!”

He ignored the yells from Piper and Derek, headed straight inside. He opened the door and walked in; hands palm up as he faced Call. “My name's Aaron.” He ignored the hammering inside his chest as Call raised his gun towards him.

“This is between us and him. You leave us alone.” Darrin’s arm quaked and his father lay seated in his armchair.

“I know what he did to those boys. I know about hollow creek and the cage. And Tommy.”

“You know about Tommy?”

“Let him go. Tommy doesn't need to see this.”

“He should die.” Darrin moved his gun to aim at his father.

“He should. But if you kill him, you have nothing, and I thought you wanted some answers. Go ahead, Darrin, ask him.”

“Why did you do that to those kids?” Darrin whimpered.

“What kids?” The father’s voice snarled, reminiscent of a wolf at prey.

“No! The ones that we buried. Why?”

“You're confused.”

“Jarvis, why didn't you move?”

“This is my home.”

“You sure it's not the view? Darrin, come here.” Darrin moved towards the door, following Hotch’s gaze to the kids in the back of the school next to them. “Come take a look at this. He sits on the porch every day and watches those kids. He can't help himself.” Darrin grunted, moving back to his father as he released his grip on the young boy. Hotch discreetly pushed him out of the doorway while keeping an eye on Darrin Call.

“We...we drove around in that truck.” Darrin panted.

“You made your own son sit in front so the other boys would feel safe?”

“You...you kept them in cages. And burnt their clothes.”

“And when you finished, you'd bury them, and you made him help.”

“And—” Darrin made to continue until Hotch pulled Bill up by the shoulders.

“Get up. Pretend you're a man. You like little boys, don't you? But they can't be too small, 'cause that would be wrong. What was it about them? They make you feel strong, make you feel like a man?”

“You shut up.”

“Is that a yes?” Bill Jarvis stared right back at Hotch’s levelled gaze. Hotch stepped back, addressing Darrin.

“Darrin. Please... Please. We're surrounded here. The police are gonna storm in here any minute. They will not shoot you if you are unarmed. You need to put the gun down now.”

“Don't...don't... Tell me what to do!” Piper and Prentiss heard 3 gunshots ring out and they sprinted out and into the house, only to see Bill Jarvis slumped in his armchair.

“What happened?” Prentiss looked to Hotch.

“I couldn't stop him.” As abruptly as he said the words, he pushed past the team to go outside. Piper stared at the dead body for a moment before following Hotch. The rest of the day blurred past from packing up the precinct to the jet ride to their dispersal from the airport. Derek and Rossi decided that they needed a drink while Emily dropped Hotch and Spencer off.

Meanwhile, JJ and Piper needed a boost, so they showed up to the smell of takeout and the sound of a bassline pumping in Garcia’s apartment. As they entered, they couldn’t help smiling as Penelope danced over to them with two glasses of wine. The three ladies danced to the beat, Penelope and Piper taking turns spinning JJ. But the atmosphere quickly changed with the Penelope crying over how adorable Will was with Henry whilst JJ and Piper built a pillow fort. It is ill-advised, as Piper would tell the boys later, to build a pillow fort whilst drunk. But that didn’t stop them.

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