#wait i did this at sixteen too when chapter two came out oh god | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bookishofalder · 3 years

Text

Night Changes [Seven]

Summary: An unexpected attack cuts the final tethers of restraint for Poe and the reader.

Warnings: Language, violence, blood, mentions of attempted assault, choking, injury description (note RED cuts to skip past uncomfortable parts if preferred), Smut—PiV, fingering, squirting, oral. W— +14K.

A/N: If there was ever a chapter I would beg for feedback/thoughts, this is it. Please tell me you like it. Oh god, soothe my worried mind.

It was tempting, the urge to roll your eyes as the man before you moved to stand too close. You smirked, waiting to see if he was serious in his attempt to corner you or if he would scamper off the moment you pulled your knife from your thigh holster where it was hidden beneath your dress.

There was a darkness in his gaze that made your hand twitch at your side, and here you had thought Canto Bight would be relatively uneventful. But it appeared you caught his eye and your disguise as just another casino patron worked because he had followed you unexpectedly into the foyer off of the main ballroom, where you had gone to wait for Poe and Temmin to return.

The three of you were here for intel promised by a very wealthy ally, so dressing the part was important for blending in with the privileged crowds. You were sure the man before you thought you weak enough to bully, a rich girl he could take advantage of.

You were annoyed, wishing you’d gone with Poe instead of Temmin, that you hadn’t offered to keep watch for any signs of your enemies because you felt you were the least suspicious of the three of you. BB8 stayed with you, but when you’d seen the man following you over your shoulder you told the droid to hide and it had zipped behind a potted plant in the corner of the foyer, beeping coyly.

You had first assumed he was a guard, perhaps about to tell you that you were in the wrong place if you were looking for a fresher, but when he stepped around you and blocked your path you quickly realized he was something else entirely. His suit, you could tell now from close up, was immensely expensive and he reeked of cologne.

There were two hallways over his shoulder, one which Poe and Temmin had gone down to meet with the contact, and the other which branched off to various parts of the greater building. Both were quiet, and so you knew not to expect any sudden interruptions that might save you the trouble of having to incapacitate the man.

But, you could easily handle one lone wolf who bit off more than he could chew.

Which was why it came as a very great surprise to you when you felt another presence behind you, but before you could do more than stiffen you felt pressure against your spine; a second man had snuck in and was pressing a knife to you. Now you understood that the first man wasn’t blocking your path; he was distracting you.

So less of a lone wolf, more of a predator with a partner. Bile rose in your throat and you glared at the man in front of you. He smirked now, taking another step toward you so that both men were almost pressed up against you, sandwiching you between them. “You’re a pretty little number.” He hissed, one hand shooting out to grab your throat.

You wanted to fight, but the knife at your back was a heavy warning of what could happen and you knew you needed to play your cards right. No pun intended. You’d been cornered before, of course, but always by First Order officers. Rich men who wanted what they couldn’t have were not on your list of experiences before this, and you wondered how best to deal with them.

“Fuck you,” You seethed, and the hand at your neck tightened fractionally. More of a threat than anything else.

His words though were a clear threat. “No, we’ll fuck you, doll.”

The way they got you onto the floor, the ease and swiftness of it, told you they’d done this together before. It sickened you, made fury rise inside of you and you wanted nothing more than to pull the knife from your holster and drive it into the hand at your throat. You made a noise, a growl, and the man with the knife finally spoke up.

“She’s a wild one, probably best to knock her out.”

You were going to kill them. Whatever happened, their blood would be soaking into this plush carpet before the end of the night. The first man moved so that he was straddling your chest, his weight on his hunches, and grinned down at you.

“Don’t worry, we’ll have our fun and be on our way. We aren’t going to hurt you so long as you don’t struggle.” He immediately contradicted himself when the hand at your throat tightened, pressing at the sides in a way that cut off airflow without completely crushing your throat. They wanted you to pass out.

You went limp, conserving your energy as you scowled up at the man. The reality of your situation was now enough to cause panic to bubble up; Poe and Temmin hadn’t been gone long. The contact would invite them for a drink, chat with them briefly before passing along the intel. They would find you here, after.

No, that couldn’t happen. It would kill Poe, and he wouldn’t be able to leave until he found the men. You whimpered, black spots started to dance in your vision and you saw, from the corner of your eye, a blur of orange and white zoom down the hallway your squadmates had ventured not long ago.

The second man was already getting excited, his free hand brushing over your face, touching your lips. Even without any air coming in, you tried to bite him. He jerked his finger back, cursing, and the man holding your throat threw his head back to laugh loudly, the pressure releasing in his distraction. You think he started to tease the other man, but everything was confusing now and instincts overtook your body, pulling in air-too much air, too quickly.

Scream.

Yes, you needed to scream. One good, long one that someone would hear, or at least loud enough to scare them off of you in case someone did come looking for the source. You kept pulling in air and it was painful your vision blurring, and you think you were about to pass out. Faces appeared in your mind. Two very distinct, very familiar faces; Charlie and Poe. Your protectors, your family, your love.

Just like that, you had what you needed to find the strength to scream.

It came out in one long, very loud wail, the sound of it echoing off of the walls and back to you before you passed out.

“POOOOOEEEEEE!”

The Martell family moved off, having given their words of sorrow and sympathy, and Charlie tightened the arm he had secured around his mother’s shoulders. She was the strong, silent type like him; whereas you always took after dad. He was keeping close to mom today, providing her with the support she needed and knowing that you were being well taken care of by the one person who could provide the tender love you required.

Charlie glanced around the room as mom took a sip of water, seeking you in the crowd. His eyes landed on Dad's green armchair in the corner, where you were curled up in Poe’s lap, face pressed into his neck as you shook with sobs. He could see his best friend whispering to you, his hand rubbing up at down your back, no doubt repeating words of comfort. He must have felt Charlie’s gaze, his eyes flicking up suddenly before he smiled sadly.

In many ways, it was a beautiful thing to behold the love which you and Poe had for one another. Even as young as you all were, no one could doubt or question that you were both made for one another-except, of course, for yourselves.

Charlie could almost be jealous if he hadn’t spent years around you and seen how natural it seemed to come to you both. He couldn’t be angry that his best friend loved you so deeply, that he knew what to do to comfort you, to care for you, knew when it was needed without Charlie even needing to ask. Hell, even dad had noticed, mentioned it to Charlie during that last visit...

Dad was smiling at Charlie, who sat in the chair next to his bed in the medical facility. It was a nice private room, the kind that the staff made a little homier because it was where the terminal patients came to live out their last days. Mom had taken you and Poe with her to get tea in the nearby lounge, leaving Charlie alone with dad one last time. He sighed, admitting to dad now that they were alone that it didn’t feel fair to lose his father at sixteen. And you were barely fourteen!

Dad chuckled sadly, “I want to stay more than you know, son. I have to tell you, Charlie, that I’m already more than proud of who you are and I know you’ll continue to be a remarkable person. I told your sister the same, but she’s still young, she’ll need more reminders,” Dad paused to take a breath and Charlie waited patiently, taking hold of one of his hands. “I know you’ll always take care of her, put her before anything else. Even the fight, it comes second to her. Though I expect you’ll have help. Wish I could have been around to see those two get married one day.”

Charlie grinned, “You noticed them too?” His father nodded, eyes bright despite the sickness. “How could anyone not, I suppose. Except them.” Charlie added, rolling his eyes fondly.

Dad laughed again, “They’ll realize it when they’re ready. You’re all too young for love anyway,” He joked, giving Charlie a mock stern look. “Just make sure that whatever they do, you focus on your own happiness too, son.”

He squeezed Charlie’s hand weakly, he smiled at his father, “I promise I’ll take care of her, dad. And mom, she’ll need me more.” Dad nodded, his eyes a little wet but so filled with love that Charlie could only stare at him for a few minutes before continuing. “You want me to beat him up when they do finally kiss, though?”

Another weak laugh, followed by a wink, and then Charlie spent a few more minutes talking with his dad for the last time, before eventually mom, you and Poe filtered back in.

He felt a lot of love and joy despite the fucking misery of it, until Dad's eyes slipped shut the final time and you all kissed him before stepping out to leave mom alone with the nurse. You were wrapped around Charlie, who had carried you out of the room, and he passed you over to Poe, asking his friend to take you home while he took care of mom. Poe pressed his forehead to Charlie’s before doing just that, his own eyes leaking tears.

Now, Charlie wondered if Poe had stopped touching you since that day. Perhaps he simply switched between carrying you and keeping his arm around your shoulders, anchoring you down in safety and love, letting you grieve while keeping you from falling too far into the darkness.

Poe met his eyes across the room, wordlessly asking ‘do you need me?’ And Charlie smiled back, shaking his head. Because Poe was already doing exactly what he needed him to, cooing softly in your ear as you trembled and cried quietly, protecting you while Charlie held up his mother and in turn, she held him up, thanking him for being strong, for loving so hard.

Charlie thought he could love as much as he wanted, it would still never compare to the love between Poe and you. It made him smile.

Poe was walking with Temmin at his side, the contact leading them through the extravagant hallways to the room where their source would pass over the intel promised to the Resistance. Intel that could help track down a man that had something the General needed. He was an ally to the Resistance, not a neutral or ‘for profit’ type but a true ally who pushed through funds for them as much as intel. Coming in person to the casino he owned, dressed to the nines in finery that felt foreign, sitting over a glass of champagne-it was the least they could do.

And Poe had to admit, the moment you’d stepped out of the fresher on the small ship Black squad had taken to come to Canto Bight, he’d become gleeful over the necessity to dress up. Because you were gorgeous, dazzlingly so in a golden, glittering dress, your legs bare, hair styled loose, a touch of make-up on your face. He thought you were so beautiful, and he wanted to tell you but didn’t trust himself to say it right, so he’d grinned before turning away and letting out a low whistle. Calling ‘looking good, sweetheart’ over his shoulder.

They were approaching a large, ornate door that the man leading them gestured toward, indicating their contact was on the other side. Poe thanked him for his help, but before he could move the final steps to the door a familiar sound suddenly entered the hall; BB8 was zooming towards him, beeping frantically.

Exchanging a curious look with Temmin, Poe dropped down to one knee as the droid rolled to a stop before him. Despite Poe’s fluency in binary, he was only catching words due to the panicked, too-fast rate at which the droid communicated. He gathered ‘attack’ and ‘knife’ and wondered if BB8 was telling him you had stabbed someone.

It wouldn’t have been the first time on a mission you’d done so.

“Buddy, slow down, I can’t understand you,” Poe hushed the droid, “Say it again, slower.”

The droid repeated itself, slowly.

Poe was moving before he finished. “Captain, go in without me. BB8, stay with him.” He ordered over his shoulder. He heard Temmin’s worried affirmative reply. And then he was running, faster than he had in his entire existence, blood roaring in his ears. Poe ran because the message was clear.

You were being attacked.

And he didn’t like how BB8 had phrased it, saying you ‘couldn’t breathe'. He didn’t know if he was about to find you with Storm Troopers or undercover First Order fighters, but regardless being unable to breathe didn’t sound like their usual treatment of suspected Rebels. It only drove him to run faster through the twisting hallway, forgetting his expensive clothing or even the importance of remaining undercover, his focus solely on you now.

You had offered to stay behind. Because it was the best option, and Canto Bight was an easy enough place to blend in. So who had made you?

Poe half expected to round the final corner up ahead and find you waiting for him with your enemy incapacitated, or otherwise in a standoff he would have to join in on the fight with.

He never expected anything like what was about to happen.

Before he reached the end of the hall, an ear-splitting shriek filled the air and Poe’s veins turned to ice, his breath catching.

“POOOOOEEEEEE!”

You had never made a sound like that before in your life, and blind, all-consuming rage overtook every facet of Poe’s being-whoever, whatever, made you scream like that was about to fucking die. He came tearing around the corner and his eyes fell on the most gut-wrenching, heart-stopping sight-you, laying still on the floor as a man straddled your chest, one hand wrapped around your throat. A second man stood next to you; both men had their backs to Poe and appeared to be watching you...

Were you dying? Dead?

They didn’t hear Poe coming, neither of them even turned around when he pulled the knife from the inner pocket of his jacket and leapt at the standing man. He slit his throat without thought, already looking toward the man still straddling you, who had released his hold on your neck to peer around curiously. He looked just in time to see his friend collapse to the floor, had enough time to jump back in fear, mouth opening in horror.

It didn’t matter, though. His futile attempt to block Poe only served to aid his aim, so that the knife he slashed out could be thrust down and into the soft flesh between his collarbone and throat. Poe snarled, slamming him back into the wall to ensure he didn’t fall onto you, before yanking the knife out and finishing him off with a firm swipe of the blade over his throat, cutting through the tendons and blinking when a spray of blood landed on him.

Stashing the knife back into his pocket and glancing up at the closed door, Poe stumbled forward and dropped to his knees next to you, adrenaline coursing through his body and keeping his hand steady as he sought out your pulse point. He could already see bruising bleeding over the soft skin of your throat, darkening it, and he felt his rage ebb away into a panic so severe that he almost missed the steady beat of your heart.

“Oh fuck,” He gasped out, a modicum of relief seeping through the panic. He scooped you up quickly, spinning around and making his way toward the hallway opposite the one he’d just come from. He groaned when he realized he wasn’t sure where to go, which door led to an exit-you had the entire place memorized. But you were breathing steadily in his arms, still passed out, and Poe needed to follow his gut on this because you’re life depended on him getting you to the safety of the ship.

He couldn’t cut through the casino, so he opted to simply try each door in the hall ahead until one of them lead to a room with a window he could climb out of. Kare was waiting on the ship, he could send her in as backup once he was out. It was the second door that he shouldered through that lead to him gasp in relief-it led onto a patio, on the ground floor. He glanced around, confirming no one was in sight before tearing off at a run, holding you tight in his arms. Everything was happening in such a blur.

He tapped on his comm, “Kare! Please tell me we have bacta shots on the ship.”

Her voice crackled through in alarm, “What’s happened? We only have spray-“

“Shit!” He growled, “I’m coming back with the Major-she was attacked, get out the medkit and prepare to head to the casino and wait outside for Temmin, he needs to have a backup-“

“You got it, Commander!” She replied swiftly before the line went dead and he knew she’d have switched over to Temmin’s channel to give him the update.

When Poe boarded the ship a few minutes later, Kare was waiting at the top of the ramp and gasped at the sight of you in his arm, passed out. She paused, eyes on Poe “Whose blood is that, Commander?”

“It’s not hers,” Poe replied, setting you down on the only bed the tiny ship had and picking up the medical kit Kare had left out for him, “I killed two men. Make sure Temmin and BB8 get back here with the intel, I’ll have the ship ready to depart.” She confirmed she heard him before running down the ramp and out of sight.

Poe set to work quickly, first tugging a rolled blanket from the end of the bed and covering you with it, then seeking out your pulse to confirm it was still beating steadily. He then uncapped the bacta spray and gently tilted your head back; exposing your heavily bruised throat, and carefully opening your mouth.

“Oh my sweet girl,” He sobbed out, first spraying into your open mouth so that the spray would drip down into your throat and reduce the swelling, then again to the outside skin. It would help, he comforted himself, “My sweet, sweet girl, I’m here. I’ve got you, please, please be okay.” He pleaded, his voice a strained whisper as he stroked your hair gently off of your face, waiting for the spray to do its work. He thinks he kept talking, while his eyes watched your face, every second torture until he saw movement behind your eyelids.

“Mmm,” You moaned out a strangled sound, your face tightening as you registered the pain. Your eyes suddenly snapped open and he saw panic flash there, a fear he’d never seen on your face before that shattered his heart right in his chest.

“Baby,” He whispered, bringing his face over yours so you could see him clearly, “It’s me, I’ve got you, sweet girl. We’re on the ship, we’re safe.” He promised you, dropping his hand to hold yours under the blanket. You gazed at him for a second, then dropped your eyes to search over him and he glanced down, realizing he was...still covered in blood.

“Ah-okay?” You wheezed, your voice was scratchy, but your brows pinched together in an expression that cleared up your meaning.

“I’m fine,” He assured you, leaning down at pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Don’t try to speak until we get you looked at, okay? Does anything else hurt?”

He drew back to watch your face, but you shook your head slightly to indicate you were okay. He cupped your cheeks then, needing to touch you, to feel you alive and warm under his now trembling fingers. You noticed his shaky hands, one of your own coming out from beneath the blanket to reach up and stroke his jaw.

A shuddering, retched sob tore out of him as you did this familiar comforting gesture, attempting to ease his pain when you were the one that had been harmed. Tears no longer threatened, but spilled from his eyes as he leaned over you, his face inches from yours, “My sweet girl, y-you scared me, there, thought I-I-“ He broke off, unable to even say the words. You kept caressing his jaw, the motion soothing to you as well, he gathered from the expression on your face. “I killed them. Both.” He admitted. You responded by merely widening your eyes slightly, then shutting them in understanding.

He watched you for a few moments, then let his own eyes shut as he lowered his head and pressed his forehead to yours, trying to reign in his emotions so that he could get the ship ready to go home. He pulled back when you attempted to speak again, your voice a little clearer thanks to the spray.

“L-love you.”

Poe ran his thumbs under your eyes to wipe away the tears that spilled, “I love you,” He replied, turning his head and pressing his lips to your hand, “So, so much, my lovely girl.”

When Tahla had first walked onto the ship after Temmin and Kare had successfully landed back on base at D’Qar, his expression was so fraught with concern you’d squeaked a little from your spot on the bed, wanting to tell him you were fine despite your voice box rejecting the attempt. Poe had disappeared into the cockpit with Temmin and Kare when they finally boarded the ship on Canto Bight, BB8 in tow, and you think he must have overstated your injury when he’d called into base.

“Well, that sounded extraordinarily wretched, let me take a look,” Tahla joked, his features relaxing, and he sat at your side on the bed. Poe was behind you now, his body acting as your pillow, a comforting position he’d taken up the moment the ship landed and the rest of Black team had departed to get the intel to the General. “This is going to be uncomfortable, but try not to make noise, okay?” His eyes were on Poe when he spoke at first, dropping to you when he posed the question. You nodded your understanding and decided to lose yourself in thought as he gently started feeling along your throat.

When you first came to, the only thing you had been aware of was the pain in your throat. You’d felt movement at your side and panicked, thinking you were still under attack, only when you opened your eyes you instead met the most heart-wrenching sight of your life; Poe covered in blood, looking down at you pale and panicked, his eyes wide with fear. Seeing him like that hurt worse than the pain in your throat, though that was certainly in a strong second place.

When he admitted he killed the men, you regretted only that you hadn’t been able to fight them off yourself, or at least been able to help him take them down. You didn’t want all of that to sit on his shoulders. You comforted yourself at the moment by telling him you loved him, testing the words on your tongue, despite knowing he would take them at their usual meaning and not how you truly meant them now.

But you could wait a little longer to tell him properly.

“Alright, Major. The good news is that you’re going to be okay and the spray will combat any long-term damage to your vocal cords,” Tahla was looking into your mouth now, a light shining in his hand as he inspected your throat. “Bad news is that I can’t administer a Bacta shot this far into the injury, so you’ll have to allow it to heal on its own over the next couple of days.”

“F-fuck.” You stammered, and Poe’s hands, which were clasping your shoulders, tightened fractionally in response. A silent, loving, admonishment. Tahla laughed, stowing away his light before giving you a final once over.

His eyes moved up, meeting Poe’s instead, “That’s not your blood, right?”

“No,” Poe replied, his voice quiet, “No. I killed them. BB8 found me, told me (y/n) was being attacked. They were...I didn’t hesitate.”

Fuck, he sounded so dark and haunted, you wanted to take away his worry, take away whatever memories he had now from the attack. You were tired though, your eyes beginning to droop now that you were home and safe and in the clear of any permanent damage. Tahla gave Poe a nod that suggested his approval over Poe’s handling of the men who attacked you, his eyes darkening for a moment, and then your eyes closed completely.

Poe’s hands immediately moved, adjusting you in his arms. How he was able to tell you were ready to sleep you’d never know. He was lifting you before you could even consider offering to just walk since your legs worked just fine. But you let yourself curl into his hold instead, your face pressing into his neck. He began to walk and you let the gentle motions soothe you further, lulling you towards sleep.

Tahla spoke from somewhere behind your head, where he walked next to Poe, “I’m going to give her a few days off, pull her from the field for a week minimum-I’ll check on her in five days, see if her voice is good enough for the field.”

“Listen, man, thank you for coming. I know it’s overstepping to demand a specific Healer-“

“Don’t worry about it,” Tahla interrupted, “I’m glad you did ask for me. Scared the hell out of me though, Poe.”

Poe sighed, “Sorry about that.” He didn’t elaborate even though you wanted him to explain why he’d caused Tahla to panic, what he’d said to have your friend run into the ship like he thought your head was about to fall off.

You also wanted to thank Tahla for coming, but you were too sleepy. Instead, you let the way Poe carried you to ease you closer and closer to the blissful release of sleep, not realizing until you heard a door whoosh open that the Healer was gone. Poe lowered you onto something soft and you peeked out beneath your eyelashes to find you were in his room.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you,” He murmured, pulling his blanket from where it was folded at the base of his bed to cover you, his hands still shaky. You reached for him then, grabbing hold of his hand, and Poe stilled, gazing down at you. “What is it, sweetheart?”

You cleared your throat carefully and kept your voice as low as possible when you spoke. “Sta-y with me.” You saw the words hit him, his tension releasing so quickly that you think he nearly collapsed as he joined you on the bed, laying cautiously next to you. The only part of him that touched you was where your hand had grabbed him; now, you tugged him closer and shuffled, burrowing into his side and tucking your head into his neck.

You didn’t care that he was bloody or you were both still dressed in the fancy clothing-you just wanted him close. Needed him, not only for yourself but also for him, so that he knew you weren’t upset with him in any way, so that he couldn’t lick his wounds alone and convince himself that he messed up.

You needed him to know that you still trusted him. Always would.

He shifted so that he could circle his arms around you, holding you tight against him and breathing steadily, hard enough that you knew he was fighting off tears again. Your poor, kind-hearted Poe. He took things so hard, loved so fiercely. You didn’t understand how you deserved him when you were young or now. You just felt so fucking safe now, he was all-encompassing safety and love and you wondered again how you could have thought badly of him, to ever have run away.

“Sweet girl,” He started murmuring again, whispers as he stroked one hand over your hair soothingly. You weren’t sure if he knew you were still awake, it had been so long. You remained still, hoping he would never stop speaking so sweetly to you, letting his words lull you. “My brave, beautiful girl. So strong. I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again. I love you, maker I love you...”

You wanted to say it back, but you fell asleep to the soothing rumble of his chest as he caressed you in the night, rocking away your nightmares and keeping you every bit as safe as he promised.

Poe woke early, light only just filtering in his thin window because he was too warm. At first, he was confused as to why he felt so restricted, so heavy until he looked down.

Stars.

You were tangled around him as he lay on his back, your arm hugged around his waist, head resting just below his sternum, legs entwined with his own. And he was still wearing his suit, the fabric not as breathable as his flight suit, and tighter too. As he gazed down at you, still peacefully asleep, further warmth pooled in his chest and belly.

‘Stay with me.’

Maker, three words and you knocked him clean over and he was ready right then to tell you he would never leave your side again if you asked him not to. But he’d managed to reign himself in slightly before curling around you protectively, unable to keep himself from touching you in gentle, soothing motions. He’d fallen asleep faster than he’d thought he would.

Now, he realized that if you woke up you would find him still covered in the blood of the men he’d killed. He needed to get himself into his fresher and clean up. With slow movements, he was able to extract himself from your grip and climb from the bed. He covered you in the blanket so the temperature change wouldn’t go as noticed and wake you up. He watched you for a minute as you slept, then quietly grabbed a pen and piece of paper, jotting a note down in case you woke up.

‘In the shower. Don’t leave, please.’

He set it next to you on his bed, then grabbed some clean clothing and stepped into his fresher, the door closing behind him silently. He bypassed his mirror, not interested in seeing how he looked, and went straight into the shower, turning on the water and flinching at the brief burst of cold before the temperature evened out. He scrubbed himself clean and avoided looking at the floor, at the swirling blood and grime disappearing into the drain. He had enough images in his head. It wasn’t that he hadn’t killed before, because he most certainly had-both from his x-wing and in ground combat. But he had never taken a life so viciously, so intimately. And it wasn’t how quickly he’d done it that scared him, it was how okay with it all he was.

They were hurting you, at the time he’d thought they’d killed you, he had no choice. No option but to end them.

He considered working in the field with you now, what that would look like. Would he start throwing himself in front of you and breaking protocol as he had in the woods of Takodana? Like he’d gotten angry at you for doing all that time ago when you’d first come back to D’Qar and had taken out that Stormtrooper with his gun levelled at Poe’s head? Was the fight...

Maker.

Was it worth losing you for?

The answer came fast; no, no it wasn’t. And that scared him because he’d always been ready to die for the cause, for the Resistance, to abolish the tyranny of the First Order. You and Charlie and he had all grown up with that single mindset, to get old enough to join and then fight until the war ended or you died.

And now all he could think was that he would rather lose the war a thousand times over than lose you.

When he stepped out of his shower and dried off, Poe was reeling. He was going through the motions-pulling on his socks, his shorts, his favourite tee. But internally he was reminding himself of everything he’d accomplished as a Resistance fighter. Of everything you had. Even after losing Charlie, you both kept fighting without question, for him, for yourselves, for the cause.

But...wasn’t the saying in your family that family came first, then the fight, and then everything else? When had he lost sight of that and forgotten that with great love came the equally great threat of losing it? But he couldn’t just leave, would never even consider it, no and he knew you wouldn’t, not for him or anything. There was nothing in the entire galaxy that would make you stop fighting. Which left Poe with the greatest question of all-what the hell was he going to do?

He didn’t have an answer, not even a vague idea, so he tabled the internal battle he was waging and stepped out of his fresher to check on you. His heart stuttered in his chest when he found you splayed across his bed, head hidden under his pillow, one leg kicked out from under the covers. You had always looked so peaceful when you slept, and memories surface of the countless times growing up, waking in your bed and watching you sleep. He’d usually wake up before you, sometimes he’d sneak out to hang out with Charlie, other times he’d enjoy the quiet and calm of your room.

The last thing he wanted to do right now was to wake you up, and so Poe made his way to his dresser to search through options for you to wear. Even the idea of you going alone into your room to shower and change made his heart drop, his need to keep you safe and close was so great. He picked out one of his shirts, a pair of athletic shorts you could tighten the waist of, and after much debate with himself, a pair of his briefs. He’d let you decide if you were going to wear them-he just wanted you to have the option.

He went into his fresher and set the clothing on the vanity, starting a little when he emerged and found you watching him with bleary eyes. He smiled tentatively, suddenly nervous under your gaze, but after a small pause your face lit up, eyes brightening and smile wide, melting his heart in his chest.

“Good morning,” Poe sat down on the bed next to you, brushing a hand over your face to wipe away stray hairs, “Try not to speak too much, sweetheart.” He gently reminded you, his eyes dropping to your darkened throat.

You made a face, scrunching your nose, and Poe chuckled softly. He watched you yawn before pushing yourself up, moving to sit next to him and raising your hand to tentatively touch your throat. You winced before flicking your gaze up to meet his, offering a small smile, “Hi,” It was raspy and quiet, dry enough that he realized you needed some water. He leaned over and grabbed a glass bottle from his mini-fridge, handing it over to your waiting hand.

He watched you gulp the water down in small bursts, happy to see swallowing didn’t appear to cause you too much discomfort. “How do you feel?”

“M’fine,”

“You up for a shower?” Poe asked, and your eyes widened slightly in response and he started sputtering immediately, heat flushing his cheeks, “I mean-you can shower, I uh, that is, I put some clothes in there for you-and I will wait here. I showered already.”

Stars, he felt about fifteen all of the sudden, embarrassment flooding him over his unintentionally suggestive phrasing. He scrubbed a hand over the stubble on his jaw, glancing at you to find you holding in your laughter, amusement evident in your expression.

Poe rolled his eyes, recovering himself, “Very funny,” But he laughed, cheered by the smile on your face as you climbed out of his bed and made your way into his fresher. Your dress was crumpled and flat from sleeping in it, and your hair a tousled mess.

Even still, you were truly beautiful.

You looked over your shoulder at Poe before closing the door to the fresher, and he patted the bed, “I’ll be right here if you need anything.” He assured you, and a wave of relief flashed over your face as you shut the door.

Poe got out of bed, taking the time you were showering to tidy his room, including making the bed. He thought about everything that had happened and realized he wasn’t even remotely aware of whether the intel had proven as useful as the ally had claimed, having passed it off to Temmin and Kare to get into Leia’s hands. The fact that his droid hadn’t returned however told Poe that BB8 must be helping to decipher the intel, and Poe reasoned he could find out once he’d taken care of you.

When he heard the water shut off in the fresher, he started to fret over how to best do just that. He supposed it would be ideal for you to remain in the quiet space of his room, where you could avoid speaking too often or loudly. He wanted to keep you close...but then the doubt crept in and he began to question whether you would even want to stay with him, or if he was already being too overbearing. Maybe you were right now looking at the clothing he left out for you and shaking your head.

The fresher door opened a few minutes later, as Poe was tying on his boots, eager to get food from the dining hall and bring it back to the room for you both. “Anything you want from-uh...” He froze, eyes landing on you dressed in his clothing, his shirt much too large and-and you’d decided to only put on the briefs, the tighter fabric only just peeking out below the hem of his shirt.

Poe hadn’t thought of a chest band, not until this very moment when he could see your full breasts outlined against the light grey fabric. He swallowed, dropping his eyes to the floor as heat crawled up his neck.

If you noticed his reaction, you didn’t comment. You crawled back onto his bed, pulling a throw blanket over your legs before settling into the cushions happily, “Pancakes. Definitely pancakes, please.” You whispered, voice slightly improved now that you had some water.

It was entirely without thought that Poe leaned across his bed and placed a gentle kiss to your temple, before jumping up and promising to return with all the pancakes he could carry.

Poe sat with his drink held firm in his hand, his eyes flicking around the crowd before he sighed and settled back into his seat. The usual table, though this was the first time he’d been back to the Cantina since the funeral. Tommy and Rico had asked him a few times, of course, but he’d refused, never feeling quite ready to return.

Today though...he’d come because it was your birthday.

He’d have a drink for you. Even though he had no idea where in the fucking galaxy you’d gone.

And it wasn’t for lack of trying, but no matter who he went to, no one could or would give him your new assignment. You’d been clever and covered your tracks enough that you made sure anyone who would have helped Poe couldn’t see your assignment.

He’d never been more miserable in his life, never more angry with himself. He’d said awful shit to you and then disappeared for a few days to collect his head, thinking of how he’d apologize.

He’d wanted to tell you he loved you.

Instead, he broke your heart.

And you up and left before he could even begin to start making amends.

He was on his last possible source at this point, a person he hadn’t even wanted to go to. But Vanya had been kind to Poe, said she could try and see if anyone she was close with had the access needed. He told her he’d be here tonight, having a drink in your honour, if she wanted to stop by and let him know how she’d got along.

He just needed to find you, and then he would say everything he should have before, apologize to you and promise to make it up to you for the rest of his fucking life. He missed you so much it hurt, it hurt more than losing Charlie. You had disappeared in a way that almost made it feel like you had died as well.

He was starting to feel dead inside.

He glanced up, seeking Vanya out, and met the eyes of a woman at a nearby table, who shot him a friendly smile. He gave her what was probably more of a grimace in return, dropping his eyes to his drink. He wasn’t sure he was ready for...anything like that.

After a moment, he looked back up and saw Vanya walk in. She spotted him and waved, beginning to make her way over. As she grew closer, Poe could see the hard set to her jaw and felt his heart sink into his stomach-he could already tell she’d been unsuccessful.

When she sat down across from him, she heaved a great sigh, her eyes casting downward to look at her hands. “I’m sorry,” She looked up at him after a moment when he made no reply, “She’s smart, didn’t leave a lot to chance.”

Poe waved his hand, “It’s not your fault in the least, Vanya. I appreciate you trying.”

“I’m sure she’ll come back, once she’s grieved enough, had a chance to think things through.”

He wanted to laugh, but instead only grunted, “You didn’t get a chance to know her, but she’s more stubborn than...” He broke off and rubbed a hand over his face. Vanya’s face had fallen as the unspoken name sat between them, and he felt a surge of sadness for her-she had really loved Charlie. “I said...well, I don’t blame her for leaving. It’s already been a couple of months, she’s not coming back. I just wish one person in this fucking place could tell me more than ‘she’s alive.’.”

Vanya leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table as she bobbed her head in agreement, eyes kind, “Poe I saw you-both of you-that night when we first met here. I saw the way you looked at each other-“

Poe tried not to glare, frowning into his drink, “Yeah? And what do you think you know now?”

Vanya ignored his tone, unbothered, “I saw how in love you both were. That kind of love...it doesn’t go away. Not forever. She’ll come back.” And with that, Vanya dipped her head and let loose a wave of fresh tears as thoughts of how Charlie was never coming back sat in the air.

He reached across the table automatically and took her hand, squeezing. “I’m sorry, Vanya. Look, thank you for everything. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me, alright?”

She smiled then, her eyes misty, but remarkably already recovering from her emotional moment, just the kind of tough lady Charlie loved. With a farewell hug, Vanya departed and left Poe alone at the table again. He sat for a minute, his drink nearly finished, and thought of all the times he sat here and took for granted what he had. Silently, he wished you a happy birthday wherever you were in the universe and hoped you weren’t even half as lonely and miserable as he was.

When he finally looked up again, the pretty woman at the table not far from his caught his eye again, and this time he smiled more broadly at her, tilting his head in question. She gestured at the seat next to her and after only a brief pause, Poe decided it was time to give himself a break from the monotony of grief and pain and loneliness and just escape for a few hours.

He joined the woman, Smiling in a way that didn’t feel real at all.

“This is nice, me getting to talk and talk with absolutely no interruptions-“

Tahla flinched when you kicked him under the table, and you stifled a giggle. Stars, it wasn’t as painful as when you’d woken up last night, but your throat still hurt. It was stinging, scratchy sort of pain when you made too much noise, but you found you’d been able to hold a low conversation with your friend over the past hour with minimal issues. It was just the laughing that did you in.

Poe had reluctantly dropped you off to the dining hall for an early dinner after you’d spent a good ten minutes convincing him you could handle going to dinner. He’d then been called away by BB8 to see the General, and you’d watched him actually contemplate what to do. It had almost been funny, but it also made butterflies erupt in your stomach-not for the first time that day. You shooed him away with the promise that you’d seek out Tahla or Temmin so that you wouldn’t be alone.

He’d been so attentive since you woke up, setting out clothing, then by bringing you breakfast and lunch and confining you to lounge on his bed all day. Despite your injury, it had kind of been one of the best days you’d had in years. It had felt a lot like old times, curled up in bed with Poe. The silence was comfortable as you read and he typed up his mission report, though the emotions running through you were entirely new.

It was a lot, emotionally, the last twenty-four hours. As traumatizing as your attack was, you felt like you were being best-taken care of by Poe and felt a little overwhelmed at how good he made you feel. He sensed everything you needed, right down to catching you when you’d be stuck on a page for a little too long, your thoughts turning inward, and he’d press a soft kiss to your hair, run his hand over your jaw, whisper sweet words of comfort.

You wanted to comfort him, too, for having to do what he did. For having to suffer through the worry of how injured you were and if you would recover. You didn’t know how to make him feel better, exactly, but you sensed that the more he took care of you the better he felt in turn, so you allowed him to fret more than was necessary.

And every time he touched you? Well, that was the thing, now that you’d encountered darkness where, for just a few moments you thought you were going to die, you realized you needed to tell him how you felt, finally. You weren’t sure how to bring it up, though, and ended up going back and forth in your head all day trying to decide.

“Lost in your head again, kid.” Tahla’s hand came to rest over yours from across the table; you glanced up from staring into your soup to meet his gaze. He looked extraordinarily understanding considering this wasn’t the first time it had happened during this dinner.

“Sorry. I guess I-I’ve never been attacked like that before. I’ve had, you know, guys pinch my ass or whatever and had no problem kicking the shit out of them if Charlie or Poe didn’t get to them first, but this was...” You trailed off and ran a hand over your face, then sipped your water to help soothe your throat as you spoke. “This wasn’t enemy forces, this wasn’t some guy in a cantina too many drinks in with a shit moral compass. This was-“

“Attempted assault,” Tahla said bluntly, squeezing your hand again. You gulped, then nodded, unsure of what to say. “I’m sorry that you went through that, (y/n), I really am. I wish I could say something more insightful.”

You sighed heavily, waving off his concern, “The worst part is that I passed out before I could...and Poe didn’t say what he did, but I saw Temmin’s face when he was getting off the ship last night. I don’t care how he killed them, I just hate that I couldn’t help, that I couldn’t take away some of the responsibility from him.” You had another couple spoonfuls of your dinner, eyes on Tahla as he thought over your words.

“You know,” He began slowly, tapping his free hand on the table, “Poe basically said the same thing to me when he got me on comms last night. That he wished he’d prevented you from being hurt at all, that he failed in protecting you. He was so worked up, so upset, I thought you were close to death. He really loves you.”

Setting down your spoon with a clang, you sat up straighter before, quietly, replying. “Of course he does, and I love him. We’re a team, one of the best. We get the job done, always have. That’s why I’m freaking out, Tahla,” You flinched as your voice raised too high and your throat burned. You switched to a whisper, “He dropped everything mid-mission to save me, then brought me to the ship. He still...He sent in Kare, but it wasn’t exactly protocol.”

Tahla suddenly grinned at you in a bright, knowing sort of way that made you want to kick him again. Your scowl gave you away, “Don’t kick me, I’m just...I can’t believe you don’t see it. Don’t you realize-aren’t you in love with him?”

You blinked across the table; were you that obvious? If Tahla was calling you out, did that mean others, Poe, had figured you out? “Kriff, Tahla, why are you always so fucking blunt.”

“That’s not an answer.”

You glanced around wearily to ensure you wouldn’t be overheard, “I am, but I just got him back so I’m trying to time it-”

“Maker, I bet he tells himself the same thing and that’s why you’ve both been so fucking blind. You realize he cut down your attackers with his knife?” You stared at Tahla in surprise, “Then he carried you back to your ship and freaked the fuck out until he got you here, not to mention how he told the Healer on call to go to hell and only send me to look at you?”

“I-I, but-“ You gaped. You’d known some of the pieces, of course, but hadn’t realized the extent of Poe's panic.

Tahla laughed, not unkindly, “You want to know what we all used to say back home growing up?” He didn’t wait for your reply, seeming to understand from the expression on your face that words didn’t exist for you right now, “We said, ‘never mess with Poe’s girl’. Remember when Gus broke up with you, said some rude shit to you? Well, he ended up with a black eye for it. Poe’s always loved you. And since I’ve been here these past few weeks, it’s like you two are already a couple.”

You still didn’t know how to reply, so you were incredibly grateful when his pager went off and he glanced down before releasing your hand. With an apologetic smile, he began to stand, and you joined him-no longer hungry-and met him around the table. He pulled you in for a hug, his face schooled to a more neutral look when you pulled back slightly to peer up at him.

“Thanks for everything, Tahla. I’ll be sad when you leave next week.” You admitted softly, and his smile grew.

Leaning down, Tahla pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek and then turned his head slightly to whisper in your ear. “I’ll come back for the wedding, of course.”

And with that, he pulled back, winked at you, and then walked off toward the far doors of the dining hall. You had half a mind to follow him and kick him just for the hell of it, the cheeky bastard, but instead, you pushed your seat in and turned to head back to your room, hoping Poe would be done with the General and would give you an update.

When you walked into the hallway and spotted Poe coming along, a weirdly decisive sensation seemed to settle in your stomach, solidifying the moment his eyes found yours from several feet away. His face broke into a relieved, wide grin and that was it, that was the final cord snapped.

It was almost funny.

You saw a modicum of confusion knit his brows together when you suddenly marched towards him, jaw set because you were trying to reign in the intense emotions now bubbling up inside of you. “Sweetheart?” He said, frowning further when you grabbed his arm and started toward the direction of your rooms. You didn’t speak, afraid of opening your mouth and just word-vomiting every thought you’d ever had, and so you pulled him along silently.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him assessing you, trying to figure out what set you off, repeatedly opening and closing his mouth as he considered. When you got to the first empty hallway, you couldn’t contain yourself any longer. You halted, releasing his arm and spinning to face him straight on. Poe opened his mouth, but before he could ask you a question, it just...came out.

“I love you,” You sighed it, lower than you’d have liked to say it because of your damaged vocal cords, but he heard you. You knew because he stiffened like a board and his open mouth slackened almost comically. “I-I’m in love with you, Poe Dameron, and I always have been and I can’t hold it in any longer.”

You bit your lip to prevent yourself from babbling, holding his wide-eyed gaze steadily. Finally saying it aloud was about a million times better than it had felt to simply admit it to yourself. You felt like you could float away just for getting the truth out, though a level of anxiety began to grow the longer he stood silent before you. But you knew his eyes, every expression they’d ever held, and you could see that he was processing your words, that they grew brighter and brighter until movement caught your eye and you glanced down to see his fingers twitch, and then he was moving.

Poe reached up and caught your face gently in his hands, closing the distance between you both so that your bodies were pressed together. He gazed at you in wonder for a moment. “Oh my sweet girl,” He crooned softly, and you were melting into his touch, your heart was surely about to burst now, and then- “I have loved you in every eternity that has ever been, and will ever be. You are everything, sweetheart, everything to me. I should have...should have told you so many times before this.”

And then Poe Dameron slotted his lips over yours and kissed you deeply like he’d been waiting his whole life to do it. It was like coming home. You were rooted to the ground now, his kiss anchoring you, his gentle caress over your cheeks sending fire into your veins that conflicted with the euphoria in your mind.

Because Poe, your Poe, was kissing you. Handsome, tall, broad and strong Poe. Your best friend, your soulmate, was kissing you and you didn’t think you could ever stop now. Your lips parted for him the same moment he did for you, and then you were tasting him and Stars, did he ever taste good. Like home-warm, a smouldering fire on a rainy evening. You knew he liked what he found in kissing you when he groaned lightly, his hands settling at the back of your neck and pressing you closer against him, deepening the kiss as your tongues danced, and you whimpered in response.

With a gasp, Poe pulled back and you saw more than love and adoration on his face, now you saw desire too. Real, heated desire.

And fuck, that pollen had absolutely nothing going for it, you saw that now. Seeing just a sliver of what desire truly looked like on his face, you knew it had all been a huge illusion brought on by the poison, during that mission. You were burning under his gaze now, every cell of your body alight and happy to surrender, responding to him before he’d barely moved. His hands were still on you and you realized yours were in fists at your sides so you reached up and did something you’d always wanted to do-sinking them into his curls.

“Fuck,” He rumbled the moment you gave a slight tug, his eyes fluttering closed briefly, a twitch appearing in his jaw. When he looked at you again you swear you burst into flames. “We need to...talk. In my room.” Before you could reply, he stooped and clasped his hands to the back of your thighs, lifting, and you realized he wanted to carry you.

And you were going to fucking let him. You pressed yourself against Poe and allowed him to guide your legs to wrap around his waist, whimpering again when his hands gripped your hips tightly. You leaned forward, wanting to kiss him. You could see how determined he was to focus, to get to the privacy of his room. You nipped along his jaw as he hurried along, grateful the halls were quiet but truly you wouldn’t have cared if he bowled people over at this point. His hands flexed as you kissed him, pressed you even closer against him when you lightly sucked on a spot on his neck that tasted as delicious as it looked.

“Stars, Poe,” You whispered, playing with his hair still. “I love you so much.”

“Let m-me show you, how fucking much I love you, sweet girl.” He panted in response, stepping through the doorway to his room and laying you onto his bed. The door shut and locked at his command, sealing you into the privacy of his quarters. He pulled back to gaze down at you, eyes wide, then reached up with one hand to very lightly trace along your neck. “And no one is ever going to touch you again.”

He said it with such strength and conviction you could only nod, even though it was a tall promise to make given the lives you lived. Because you believed him; that he meant he would do anything in his power to keep you safe. When he lowered himself down over you and started to kiss you again, you relaxed entirely for probably the first time in your life.

Burning never felt so good.

Poe was kissing you. You were kissing Poe. It was, it had to be, a dream. But if it was a dream how could it feel so intense and real and right? How could kissing you possibly be as perfect as this? He felt like he was whole again-like his heart tripled in size the moment you told him you were in love with him and then every moment with his lips pressed to yours only continued to make it grow.

Yesterday he’d almost lost you, or at least thought he had, and now you were tangling your fingers in his hair and moaning underneath him as you kissed, your body trembling. He’d never been as hard as quickly in his fucking life, could feel himself pulsing where he was pressed against your leg. He wanted to be embarrassed but the look on your face when he’d dropped you onto the bed told him you were thinking the same thing as he was now, just as overwhelmed and needy to get as close as possible, skin to skin. To finally tear down every single barrier-mental and physical-between you and come together, be together.

Which was probably why it seemed to take no time to rip one another’s clothes off until Poe was only in his briefs and you were left in the briefs he’d given you that morning to wear.

“Oh sweetheart,” He murmured, his eyes running over your every dip and curve and swell, the smoothness of your skin calling to him. He was laving his tongue over your nipple the first time you cried out, the sound strangled and broken enough that he pulled back and looked at you closely. “You can’t be loud, sweet girl. I want you to, trust me, but you have to be a good girl. We don’t want to hurt your voice any more than it already is, okay?”

“O-okay, I’ll try.”

Poe hummed, “Tell me the moment you want to stop. We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable-”

You slid one hand out of his hair and dropped it between your bodies as he was speaking, coming to grip his length over his underwear. Poe broke off with a hiss, automatically thrusting into your hold. “I’ve b-been waiting my whole life for you, Poe Dameron.” You sighed, releasing his erection and tracing your hand along the planes of his stomach and chest. “Never stop. I’m yours and I never want to stop.”

A possessive feeling, one that had always lingered in the background when Poe was with you, increased tenfold at your words, further driven by what had happened yesterday. He growled before capturing your mouth in another, more fierce kiss, his tongue exploring you as he ground his hips down a little.

When he finally pulled back, you were gasping and even more flushed, your chest heaving as you looked at him. “You’re mine,” He repeated, bracing one arm on the bed and trailing the other down to tease over your centre, dipping below the band of his briefs. “I’m yours, too, sweet girl.” And he locked eyes with you as he pushed two fingers inside of you, gasping out at the blissed-out, contained moan you allowed yourself and the feel of how tight and wet you were.

Your hips bucked when he pressed in deep and curled his fingers, playing with you until he found a spot within that made you just about shoot off of the bed. With a wicked grin, he started to tease that spot and watched your face as you came undone bit by bit for him.

It was the most vivid, raw experience of his entire life. Every single moment soaked into his mind and became a permanent, detailed memory-your little whines and pleas, the roll of your hips, the heat of your slick and how he could smell you, just the right amount of sweetness. It was all so much more than the sex you’d had during the pollen exposure. Every other sense had been cut down and pushed back during that, but now they were all operating on full levels and it felt so right. It enabled Poe to work you through to your orgasm with ease all the while just about ready to cum in his underwear as he did.

“Shit, you are fucking beautiful, sweet girl,” He moaned, adjusting the arm he was bracing himself with so that he could clamp that hand over your mouth. He sensed you were close, could feel your tight walls clenching, and wanted to protect you from harming yourself if you forgot you couldn’t scream. “Cum for me-I’ve imagined it so many times, need to see you cum for real, for me. I’ll keep you safe, go ahead, let go.”

He felt your lips part behind his hand, then your entire body went rigid and you came hard, back arching until a significant amount of wetness soaked his hand, and the bed, and you started to whine and shake from the intensity of it all. Poe growled as you came, glancing down in wonder to see more wetness pool and realizing you were squirting, and he hadn’t known you could do that.

“Fuck, baby, is that for me? You perfect little thing, you are the hottest fucking woman. Holy shit!”

You slumped into the mattress with a huge breath, the warm air hitting his hand and he moved it so that you could catch your breath. With care he slowly removed his fingers from you, looking from your blissed-out expression to your soaked underwear, to your essence all over his hand. He quickly removed your panties, then shuffled down the bed, even more turned on now.

“I just, fuck I need to taste you real quick, sweet girl.” And he dove into your folds before you could respond, taking care to avoid your sensitive nub, and licked you like it was his last meal. You tasted fucking delicious and he didn’t want to stop, pushing your legs apart he cleaned up every drop you’d leaked while you whimpered for him.

“Sh-shit,” You cried, voice low, writhing against his hold on your hips. “Poe, please. Please!”

Poe pulled back, licking his lips, and grinned up at you. “You okay, sweet girl?” You nodded and he rose, eager to get you over the edge again so that he could lick up everything you gave him. “Please what? What do you need?” He crawled back up your body, chuckling when he felt your hands pushing desperately at his briefs.

You cleared your throat, “You. Always needed you, Poe.” You whispered, your voice so filled with emotion you nearly knocked him over. He took over pushing his briefs off and then reached under you with both arms, securing your body before lifting you, changing positions so that you were sitting in his lap. His length pressed against your thigh as you settled.

Poe stroked some stray hair out of your face and kissed you softly, holding you against him and savouring the moment. He’d never been so filled with emotion and pleasure before, every woman he’d been with over the years simply could not compare to the power and love between you and Poe, and it was terrifying. Sensing his apprehension, you drew back from the kiss and stroked along his jaw soothingly and Poe took a moment to simply drink you in.

“I never knew anything could be like this,” He admitted, now running his hands all over your body, pausing to squeeze his favourite curves. You smiled at him, pupils blown wide with lust, your expression telling him you agreed. “I’ve wasted so many years, (y/n). I’m so sorry.”

“No,” You shook your head, dropping one hand to seek out his length and holding it gently in your hand, lining him up. “No, we aren’t apologizing for our mistakes anymore. It’s you and me now, Poe, you, and, m-me.” You lowered yourself, your scratchy voice breaking off into a sigh of content as you slowly sunk onto his length.

Poe had pictured being with you like this many times in his life, certainly more than he’d like the admit. But even combined, none of those fantasies could come close to how it felt to bring your bodies together, the fucking ecstasy, the sight of his cock splitting you open as you slowly took him inch by inch. Your hands tangled in his hair again as a low, continuous whine fell from your lips. Your face was slightly scrunched as you tried to relax and accommodate him, and Poe was enraptured, watching everything with his hands at your hips.

You were devastating. And you were his.

Poe hurled headfirst into oblivion as you settled fully on his lap, a groan escaping as your tight heat clenched around him, and it was all he could do to speak, to just tell you how perfect you were. “Baby, oh fuck, I love you,” He leaned back slightly, dropping one arm to brace on the bed and then gripping your hip with the other. Poe set a slow and deliberate pace with his feet pressing into the baseboard of his bed. He rolled up, then back, his cock dragging halfway out before sinking back into you as you gripped his shoulders and whimpered above him.

It was sensual, soft, each movement like a slow dance, your hips rolling down to meet his in perfect harmony with his thrusts. You were biting your lip, eyes locked on Poe’s, and he could feel you flutter around him every time he groaned; so he let himself make noise, let you hear how good you made him feel, grunting and cursing with every blissful motion.

Even though the pleasure kept mounting Poe didn't want to rush this, so he moved at the same pace for a long time. Occasionally stopping completely when he was fully inside of you and relishing the sensation until you whimpered and he would move again with a grunt. It was divine, perfection...you. It was all you.

“Poe,” You whimpered as you moved one hand from his shoulder to push into his curls, urging him toward you as you leaned down and pressed your lips to his. He kissed you slowly as well, licking into your mouth, over your lips, drinking up your moans, until eventually it wasn’t enough for you and you made a noise in your throat, a little frustrated sound that made him smirk. Made him even fucking harder.

Without warning he sat forward, brought both hands to your hips and slammed you down onto his cock, using his strength to lift and drop you. “Sweet girl,” Poe grunted as your head tilted back in a silent cry, “That’s it, cum for me, let me feel you, baby, please.” He was desperate to feel you cum on his cock, pulling out and then slamming you back down, meeting you halfway as you struggled to hold in your noises, and Poe let loose another round of groans that seemed to propel you straight over the edge.

Your body curved forward as you came, one of your hands shooting to cover your own mouth as you sobbed in pleasure. He kept moving, watching your face rapturously until a strong clench around his cock drew his gaze downward. He had a moment to recognize what was about to happen before roaring in delight as you squirted for him again, the hot wetness coating his lap. The room filled with the wet slapping sounds of your body meeting his and Poe had to actively work not to cum, setting his jaw and gripping your hips with almost bruising strength.

“Ahh,” You whimpered, your legs going limp. Before you could fully collapse into Poe, he flipped you onto your back and started to fuck you into his mattress while peppering you with soothing kisses, “Oh Poe, more!”

He was right there, nearing the edge and yet savouring every deep thrust into your tight cunt. His movements were getting sloppy now, and he wasn’t even trying to hold back his noises because you felt so fucking good and this was so perfect and he loved you so much.

“Oh baby, baby-” He slammed into you one last time, dropping most of his weight down onto you and filling you deeply as he began to cum, his hips stuttering. You were moaning for him, weakened legs hooking behind his ass to draw him closer as he filled you, “I love you, I love you, I love you-“ He couldn’t stop saying it now, his head dropping to your shoulder-careful to avoid your injured throat-he just kept repeating himself between grunts.

As he started to come down from the high, he realized you were speaking, your voice a whisper in his ear, hands stroking his hair. “I love you too, Poe, my Poe,” He was gasping now, everything that had transpired catching up to him in the clarity of post-orgasmic bliss and your words brought his emotions back to the forefront.

He made to move back, only you stopped him, keeping him close. He looked at you, “You okay, my sweet girl?” Stars, you looked fucked out in the best ways and he swore he could cum again just at the sight of you as drunk on him as he was on you.

You nodded, giving him a soft little smile, “Just stay inside me a little longer.”

Fuck, you were going to kill him, you were so hot.

As much as he liked the idea, he didn’t want to stay on top of you and crush you, so he considered carefully before rolling you both, settling himself into the bed as you lay atop him, whimpering at the movement before resting your head on his chest. He’d started to soften inside of you, but remaining in your warmth kept him semi-hard, not something he’d ever done before and yet he decided at that moment he wanted to do it all the time.

“That was...you are perfect, you know that? Dreamt of you my whole life and that was better than I ever could have imagined.” Poe beamed at you when you looked up at him, your eyes bright. He had never been so radiantly happy in his entire life.

You reached up and ran your hand along his jaw, “Says the man who made me squirt. Twice.” You gigged, and he gazed at you for a moment before responding.

“You’ve done that before, yeah?”

When you shook your head, Poe felt a mixture of both surprise and pride swell within him, and you read that in his expression. “Yes flyboy, that was all you.” Another throaty giggle, which then morphed into a full cough as you hit the limit on your poor vocal cords.

Poe was up in an instant, carefully slipping from you and hurrying to his fridge to get you water. He passed it to you and then went into his fresher to get a warm washcloth. You were gulping the water gratefully when he returned, your eyes raking over his body with a level of possessiveness that made his cock twitch. You wanted him to yourself as much as he wanted you to himself, that much was now abundantly clear.

“Alright, sweet girl, let me take care of you,” He whispered, running the washcloth gently through your folds and tidying you up. You cooed softly, relaxing into the bed. When he was satisfied, he lifted you into his arms and carried you into the fresher to set you on his toilet. “You pee, I’m going to change the sheets.” And he wiggled his brows at you, earning him another big smile that settled right down into his oversized heart.

A short while later Poe Dameron was laying in his bed with you held in his arms. This was not the first time in his life that he drifted off to sleep with you, but it was the first time you were both nude and satisfied and so wholly consumed with your love for one another.

It was the first time he would wake in the middle of the night, hard and aching, only to find you already awake and needy for him, moaning when he rocked his hips into you and fucked you slow.

It was the first time since Charlie’s funeral that Poe would sleep entirely at peace, wrapped around his soulmate.

If you thought making love with Poe Dameron was perfect beyond expectations, it almost made it unfair how fucking good he was at eating you out.

You’d both woken late the morning after coming together and felt ready for more-you wanted him inside of you again. Only he insisted he hadn’t gotten anywhere near his fill of tasting you last night. Now he was happily lapping between your folds with his skilled, hot tongue and absolutely wrecking you, one hand clamped over your mouth to keep you quiet because he knew how fucking good he was.

You saw it the first time he’d made you squirt and then watched it solidify when you admitted you’d never done so before. It was hot, seeing the mixture of passion and cockiness, skill and care. You fell more and more in love with him throughout the night, when you came together and fit so perfectly, and now you were about ready to beg him for his cock before he killed you with his mouth.

When you came again for him, you were spent and though you did get wetter, you didn’t squirt. He didn’t mind, eagerly drinking up what you did give him before moving to kiss your thighs, then eased your legs together and began to massage the aching muscles. “Such a good girl,” He praised, his muscular figure drawing your eyes. You hadn’t realized how talkative, how much noise he would make, and it was the hottest shit. His groans were downright sinful, were what sent you rocketing into your orgasms the night before. “I should keep you here all day, wet and ready for me.”

“Fuck,” You replied, the words shooting straight to your core even after all of the orgasms you’d had. You sat up, struggling slightly and Poe reached out and gripped your arms, lifting you in another show of his strength that made you kind of dizzy with lust. “You’re insatiable. But we’re having lunch with Tahla, remember?”

Realization flashed over his face and he glanced over at his wrist comm next to the bed, relaxing when he saw there was still time before lunch. “Shit, I forgot. He’s leaving soon though, right? So I don’t want to bail.”

“Next week,” Poe moved to sit next to you, both of your backs against the wall now. He pulled the blanket from where it had been kicked to the end of his bed to cover you both. “He said something...that sort of made me realize how stupid I was being, right before I saw you yesterday.”

Poe turned his head to face you, his arms circling your waist and tugging you close to his side, “Oh? What did our wise, filter-free friend say?”

You giggled, then cleared your achy throat, “I had said I was going to miss him when he left and he told me he’d come back for our wedding.” You thought Poe would laugh with you, or at least scoff, but instead, he’d gone quiet and his expression turned inward in a way you couldn’t read. You hesitated a moment before tilting your head into his line of sight, though his mind was clearly a million miles away, “Poe?”

He looked at you then, for what felt like the first time in your life because of how intense his expression was, filled with love and something you couldn’t get a read on.

“I’m sorry,” He began, shaking his head a little, “I just...you are the love of my life. I meant everything I said last night.”

Warmth filled you as he spoke; you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to him saying such perfect things to you. Saying he loved you. “I know, Poe, I meant everything too.” You assured him, brushing your hair over his forehead to push back some stray curls.

Poe nodded, his expression still intense, eyes bright, “We’ve lost a lot of time, sweet girl. But I don’t want to waste another minute. I-” He paused, and you were growing increasingly confused. When he suddenly pulled away standing up to cross his room, your curiosity spiked, confusion at an all-time high.

Until that is, you saw what he was doing.

He was pulling something out of the inner breast pocket of his flight suit, lifting a chain and then turning to you back at the bed. He glanced between his hand and you once, stealing himself before dropping down to one knee next to the bed.

“Maybe he won’t have to come back for our wedding,” Poe opened his palm to reveal exactly what you knew he kept in his flight suit, “Maybe he’s here just in time. Marry me, (y/n). I love you and I never want to spend another minute without you. You are my soulmate, so please marry me, sweet girl.”

Your eyes fell from the passionate look on Poe’s face to his mother’s wedding band that lay in his outstretched hand.

34 ABY - Aftermath of the Battle of Takodana - D’Qar

Climbing from his ship with his adrenaline running high thanks to the success on Takodana, Poe turned and gasped when saw his droid, the orange and white blur zooming over to him. “BB8 my buddy!” He cried, dropping to his knees, “It’s so good to see you!” He looked the droid over, happy to see it looked to be in good shape.

BB8 beeped, excitedly explaining what had happened to it, “What? Saved you? Where is he?” He asked, the droid responding quickly and Poe glanced up, eyes landing on the defected ex-Storm Trooper who had saved Poe. Holy shit!

Finn spotted Poe at the same time and began running forward, “Poe?” He called, and Poe rose to his feet and started towards him, still reeling in surprise that Finn was here, that he was okay.

Poe felt himself grin, “Oh no!”

“Poe Dameron, you’re alive?”

Rushing up to Finn, Poe gasped out, “Buddy!” He pulled his new friend in for a hug, “So are you!” And he looked well enough, thankfully, too. Poe had worried he’d been captured back by the First Order after he couldn’t find him on Jakku.

“What happened to you?

“What happened to me? I got thrown from the crash. Woke up at night-no you, no ship, nothing,” Poe released Finn, pointing to him and then to his droid, “Listen, BB8 says that you saved him.”

“No, no, it wasn’t just me-“

Poe stepped closer to Finn, needing the man to understand, “You completed my mission Finn, I-that’s my jacket.” His gaze dropped to the jacket-his jacket- that Finn was wearing.

Finn glanced down, “Oh,” And he started to take it off and suddenly, Poe realized he didn’t need the jacket back, that Finn needed it more.

“No, keep it,” He punched Finn’s arm affectionately, “It suits you.”

Finn stopped and straightened, his eyes roving over Poe once again, “I still can’t believe your alive, Poe.”

Poe laughed, grasping his friends' shoulders, “You’ve got no idea what I have to live for, Finn. Dying ain’t an option.”

Tags

@mermaidxatxheart @foxilayde @eleinemk @paintballkid711 @mylifeisactuallyamess @20th-centu-fairy-girl @deitysnips @cannedsoupsucks @ubri812 @poedameronloverx @hoeforthefictional @astrological-bitch @itsnottilly@itsdameron @alex-sulli @generousrunawaydonut @wildmoonflower @onlyferorder66 @deanandbobbymcgee @afootnoteinyourhappiness

#reader insert #fanfic #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #fluff #angst #night changes series #multichapter #friends to lovers #star wars #poe x you #poe x reader #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron smut #poe dameron series #smut #oscar isaac

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rowanaelinn · 3 years

Text

Fire on Fire - Chapter Eight

Chapter seven // Chapter nine

Warnings: suicidal thoughts.

It’s kinda rushed but it kinda fits with today’s prompt for rowaelin month! next chapter is going to be way longer :)

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Rowan took a piece of towel and used it to remove the foam from his client's leg, revealing a tattoo he had been working on for four long hours.

It was a large bouquet of flowers, each one a different color to represent a member of the client's family, with writing in the Old Language with their names.

“Here it is,” He told her, holding a mirror above her leg so she could see all the details. Her smile grew as she took in her tattoo. It was one of his favorite parts of his job, the emotion on their face. He loved to be able to bring such feelings to the people he worked on.

“I love it.” She said and Rowan only nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips. He put away his equipment, throwing away the little pots of ink that he hadn't quite finished while his client left, thanking him, before going to sign the last papers at the counter. When he finished, Rowan joined her and gave the invoice to Remelle, their assistant.

He left to clean up his workroom before entering the break room, heading straight to the fridge to take out his food. He had spent an hour yesterday cooking pasta, chicken and cutting up his favorite vegetables to make a salad. Cooking had always helped him to keep his mind busy and these last days it was more than necessary.

A few minutes after Rowan settled down at the round table in the middle of the room, fork in hand and his dominant hand busy holding an Apple Pencil while he multi-tasked eating and drawing for his appointments, Gavriel entered the room.

Rowan tried not to stare at him, exactly as he had done all week. But today it was more complicated as Gavriel sat down next to him, getting his full attention. He tried with all his might to concentrate on the drawing in front of him, but the temptation was too strong. "How's..." He cleared his throat, the words hard to come out. "How's Aelin?"

He avoided any eye contact, his eyes fixed on the tablet even if his drawing hadn’t progressed in the last ten minutes. He hated the feeling of worry in his chest. Rationally, he knew she was physically okay or Gavriel and Aedion would be by her side now. But she had been good at hiding her emotions, so good that her family didn’t see anything worrying. Apparently, he was the only one who saw anything, and it did nothing to help his worry about how she was right now.

After long seconds without a response, Rowan dared to look up at Gavriel. His head was turned toward Rowan, fork a few inches from his opened mouth. His entire face was frozen. Rowan just raised his eyebrows, waiting for anything to come out of his mouth. His boss shook his head, seeming to come back to reality. “Yeah. She is, why?” He could see the confusion on Gavriel’s face but Rowan wouldn’t answer that question so he just shrugged.

Rowan managed to stay quiet a few more minutes, even if he could feel the awkwardness in their air, but another question was burning his throat. “Have you ever met Arobynn Hamel?”

This time he looked up to see Gavriel look at him as if he was an alien, but thank the Gods, he didn’t comment on his interest. “Once or twice, but very briefly. Generally, that was just when he was picking Aelin up.” Rowan nodded, still trying to understand what Aelin had meant by The furthest they are from Arobynn, the safest they are. She hadn’t said anything else, leaving him more confused than anything.

“How did she met him?” He tried to appear casual as he asked that, taking another fork of food in his mouth. The food tasted sour as Gavriel kept watching him suspiciously. He couldn’t ask these questions to Aedion, knowing his friend he would be too defensive of his cousin, especially if Rowan was the one asking the questions. Gavriel knew about Aelin and Rowan’s disdain for each other but he knew less than Aedion, he hadn’t seen the two of them yell at each other or hadn’t witnessed them doing absolutely everything to ruin the other’s day.

He didn’t dare to ask Lysandra either, he was sure the woman would stab him with her hells if he even dared to pronounce Aelin’s name.

So Gavriel was the safest choice.

He seemed to think about who to tell him before opening his mouth. “At a party, when she was sixteen or fifteen, I think.” He took a bite of his food. “Arobynn’s an old friend of her father, both went together to college and were best of friends there, but they lost contact and met again at a gala. They talked about Aelin and found out she wanted to work in the same industry as Arobynn. He’s been her mentor ever since.”

Fifteen? Maybe Rowan’s mind was just fucked up to think it was weird, maybe he was just influenced by what Aelin said the other night. He might not have found it weird if she hadn’t said anything. He was just thinking too hard, trying too hard to find an explanation for what’s happening to her.

“You think he’s good to her?” Gavriel was a wise man, he was trying so hard to be part of his son’s life and it included taking care of Aedion’s cousin. Surely, he didn’t notice the little things Rowan did, but maybe he noticed something else. Rowan’s boss only shrugged.

“He found her a place at her university, made her TA, and gives her a job every summer. So, yeah. I guess so.” And he was paying for her education, a fact Aelin hid from her family. Why would she? It was what didn’t make sense, what was weird with all that. “I’m even sure he’s the first person she went to see when she left her parents in Terassen.”

What?

“What do you mean, ‘left’?” He asked, his brows furrowed. It wasn’t the only thing that didn’t make sense, he knew for a fact Aelin came to the house first. He hadn’t talked to her that day, he and the boys were sent to their room as if they were teenagers the moment a crying Aelin knocked at the door. He had lingered longer than necessary in the staircase, long enough to see her in a dress, shoes in hands, and cheeks filled with black makeup that had run down her cheeks.

Next thing he knew, Aedion spent a week at his father, trying to get Aelin better. Rowan had thought about this night for too long, Rowan always thought Aelin had partied too hard (because from her outfit, it was quite clear she had partied) and it was the straw that broke the camel's back for her parents. Even without wanting to, it had been impossible not to know about Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.

Pictures and videos of her in more than indecent dresses for her age were on page one of every magazine, when pictures of her sniffing coke had leaked it had even been made to National News. She had been sixteen at the time, and it had only been one of many times she had been caught doing what she shouldn’t have.

Before Gavriel could answer, the door opened to let Aelin appear in the doorway. She was holding flowers in her left hand, a smile on her face as she saw her uncle. Unfortunately, her face froze when she saw Rowan. Rowan’s entire body stilled, eyes roaming all over her body. She seemed okay, not skinnier than the last time he saw her, not hurt.

“Oh,” she said, opening and closing her mouth multiple times. She swallowed before clearing her throat. Only a blind person wouldn’t see her anxiety. “I didn’t think you ate there.”

He usually didn’t, having enough time to go back home. It was more comfortable to eat there, but he had been burying himself under work since he woke up in her empty bed. “You thought wrong.”

She was uncomfortable, and he both wanted to make her feel that way for hours and wanted to comfort her at the same time.

Sensing both of their unease, Gavriel stood up and went to leave the room. “I brought you those, your favorites,” Aelin said, giving her uncle the flowers. “I went to your favorite flower shop.”

Gavriel smiled and kissed Aelin’s cheek, earning a smile out of her. “Thanks.” He looked back at Rowan, he knew it was a warning glare but he didn’t care. He needed to speak with her. Gavriel left, pretending to have something else to do but it was all an excuse to let them speak.

“So, you’re alive.”

Aelin snorted. “I don’t know if you look relieved or sad.”

He fought his lips from rising. “Anything to say?”

Aelin looked at him, her bottom lip between her lips and her hands fidgeting. “Your shirt is ugly.”

It was his turn to snort. Of course, she wouldn’t go straight to the point. He arched a brow, waiting for a real answer. Even though he was the one sitting, he held more power than her now.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t want you to say anything,” he said as he closed his tablet, letting his fork down on the plate to have his hands free. “I just want you to act like the adult you are, and it doesn’t include running away in the middle of the night after telling someone you want to die.” His voice was hard, it made Aelin flinch.

“I never said I wanted to die.”

“You said you didn’t have the strength to live, Aelin.”

“Yeah, never said I wanted to die.”

“But do you?” He had to ask, because if she did… He would do what was necessary, he couldn’t let her die. She was already killing herself slowly, between the sex and the alcohol… She told everyone she was sober from drugs but she had been lying for so long to everyone he had a hard time believing it.

Rowan got his answer when she avoided his gaze, focusing on the floor. His heart broke, he needed to help her and he doubted sending her to a psychiatric hospital would help.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, voice heavy with emotions. With his head, he made her sign to sit next to him, and to his surprise, he complied. She turned her chair to face him, their knees brushing. He could see the dark circles around her eyes from that close, her lips dryer than usual and dotted with small wounds that he knew were due to her teeth.

“I’m coming back home.” He told him, finally looking at him. “I was around, I finished school yesterday and had to sign some things at Arobynn’s office. So I bought Gavriel’s favorite flowers to thank him, I didn’t know you would be here.”

“You hoped I wouldn’t.” He stated and she only nodded. She looked broken as if she knew she could let her guard down after what happened between them Monday. He was happy she knew he would be here for her.

“I was ready to call the cops when I woke up alone, Aelin,” Rowan confessed. He needed her to understand people suffered from her actions. “I was going to until I heard Aedion complain to Lysandra about you leaving him for his father.” He exhaled a loud breath, trying to forget everything he felt that morning. “Aelin, I thought you were dead somewhere.”

Her hand gripped his, he couldn’t hide the surprise from his face. She kept her hand in his, her small fingers enveloping his. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from it, they had never touched like that. “I’m sorry,” her weak voice said. “I panicked. I didn’t think…” He looked back at her, letting her time formulate her thoughts. It was hard enough, she didn’t need to be pressed. “I didn’t think you’d care, to be honest. Nobody ever did, you said it yourself. Aedion was annoyed I was at Gavriel’s, not that I was gone. It’s always been this way, I’ve always been… free.”

It wasn’t freedom, it was negligence. But she didn’t need to hear this now, so he kept his mouth shut, just nodding in understanding. He linked their fingers together, delighted to see the surprise on Aelin’s face, at least they were even now. He squeezed her hand, accepting her apology. Two weeks ago he would have thought Aelin did it on purpose to have attention, but he began to realize he was wrong about her.

“It’s your birthday tomorrow.” He said, changing the subject. He had to get back to work soon, and he didn’t have the time to unpack everything he wanted right now. Aelin still looked at their hands, feeling too hard to describe on her face. She nodded.

“Lysandra and Dorian spent the week throwing a huge party for you,” It wasn’t exactly a surprise, Aelin knew there would be a party but probably thought it would just be her and her close friends. Lysandra and Dorian had another idea in mind. “If it’s too much, we can ditch. We’ll find an excuse.”

Finally, her eyes looked back at his face. She had a small smile on her face, Rowan’s heartbeat eased at that. “No.” She shook her head. “A party is what I need right now.”

Rowan wanted to disagree on that, but she was an adult. She knew what was best for her. “Then let’s party.”

Her eyes widened. “You usually don’t come to my birthday.” She was right, he had avoided these parties full of teenagers as much as he could, but he wanted to stay with her.

“I thought were an English major,” he teased her, pulling at her arm slightly making her smile. “What part of ‘you don’t have to be alone anymore’ don’t you understand?”

At that, she smiled so brightly Rowan could have sworn it lighted up the entire room.

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#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass fanfiction #fire on fire #aelin galathynius

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pedrosbrat · 3 years

Text

Sorrow You Are My Light {Pero Tovar x Max Phillips x F!Reader}

CHAPTER I : Insomnia

AU - Vampire Hunters

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: Angst, Nightmares, Language, alcohol, yearning, violence (fight) , mention of murder, sword, blood …

Summary: You and Pero were united by fate in your youth due to a tragic event. You will seek revenge from the creature that caused your common suffering all your life without success... Until you cross paths with Max Philips, forcing you to form an alliance with an enemy to destroy a common foe...

Little Comment : Hi everyone, it’s my first series, I hope you will like it (if you see any mistakes let me know and I will correct it) - 1 chapter will be published every week, every Saturday⚔️ Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

1440- Transylvania

You have been travelling on horseback for a little more than two days now, with a weather changing from very hot to very rainy, and usually it doesn't bother you, at least not really, because Pero has the decency to take breaks, it has always been like that. But for the first time in decades of travelling together, he has refused to take any breaks, because he says you are close to the goal.

You can understand it, and you feel it too, but you would still like to be able to rest, not feeling your legs or even feeling your buttocks... You don't even know if you don't feel them anymore because of the total absence of sensation from sitting on your horse for this long, or if the pain you felt yesterday has taken over and has become a friend, and the only company you feel at this moment.

Because despite his presence, Pero is far too absorbed in the mission. This is nothing new, in fact, he has always been like this, only usually he has the good sense to admit that sleep is important for a good fight, as well as a somewhat adequate physical form...

"If we are attacked by a vampire now Pero I won't be able to fight". You say as you catch up to him slightly at a gallop. "Stop complaining," he says, slightly grumpier than his natural temperament, which is bound to be an effect of lack of sleep. "I'm not complaining, I'm just right! You know very well that the lack of rest will eventually kill us, if it is not the horses that die long before us! You say, slightly annoyed by his behaviour.

He stopped short, and turned to face you, grimacing, probably aching and exhausted, unconsciously proving your point: "If he runs away, he'll kill more people! You seem to forget what this thing is capable of!" "Forget?!" you say, widening your eyes, increasingly annoyed.

Vampires: demonic beings that have occupied the lands of your country since your childhood. At first, in your youth, their presence was only a myth, which some people described as mad swore they had seen, but as time went on, the world realised that it was all real. These decaying beings, who have no chance of finding the light again, their gaze completely absorbed in the darkness, surrounded by veins resembling the shade of smoke enveloping the sky and covering all traces of the sun. They are the shadows that will hide the light of all normal life since your youth... Since that night sixteen years ago...

You know that Pero can be stubborn, but he is not so deeply stubborn that he tries to pretend to anyone who doesn't know him, although he hides it quite well, he is a gentle man and a good man... Except when he really decides otherwise, as he has done for the last forty-eight hours. So you don't try to argue or have a simple debate with him on the subject, because you know very well what he's talking about and you don't want to talk about it... You've already had enough nightmares since you were a child, so you don't need that.

You gallop alone towards the big city, from where you are not so far now, determined to make a big turn, to let your horse rest, and to rest at the same time in a real bed, and not stones under a sheet for a pillow or an old tavern of the village where you were hunting.

It doesn't matter if he follows you or not, you're far too tired and suffering to care at the moment, and being a very good tracker, you know you'll be able to find him if only a few hours separate you from each other, and at least you'll be able to fight effectively if something happens.

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

The city is not as jovial as it usually is. You don't know why, of course, but there's a sort of silent restlessness that mingles with an almost empty square, leaving a black shadow over all those little houses, like a feeling deep inside you that you can see floating over the city.

"Anything interesting in the sky Paloma?"

You turn, coming out of the thoughts that had completely absorbed you, to find that Pero is at your side, handing you a piece of cheese, which he must have bought at the entrance of the city, and that you grab without hesitation the rumbling belly for any substitute of food... His way of apologizing and telling you that you are right, even if he will never admit it out loud...

Pero will never admit it, but he doesn't like to see you turning your back on him. He likes your presence, even if he doesn't express it, he likes to see you smiling, annoying him, lecturing him. He likes the way you've been waddling around on your horse for the last few days, and he knows it's only because of the pain he's putting you through, and that he shouldn't like to see that, he feels a little bad about it at times.... But you are so beautiful... And that ass, God only knows how many times he's dreamed of it bouncing off him...

"Nothing special, just a bad feeling" you say, taking a bite of the end of your feeble dish, "...I don't really believe in feelings you know, but for once I have to give it to you..." he says, kicking the sides of his horse to start galloping "No we should let the king know we're back, maybe he'll explain what's going on.

You nod and follow him, speeding up in your turn, not missing the crosses on the front of each house, as well as some silver objects in front of the windows, which normally would have been looted by the small thieves of the city, but even they don't seem to want to touch them... You start to understand what is going on but don't go forward, hoping that the bad luck hasn't come to your place of living once again, where you and Tovar have decided to stay for more than two years now.

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

The throne room which is usually decorated with berries on every table, and bright silk draperies falling from the chandeliers to the ceiling, adorning the sides of the windows are not present, leaving the room in a dullness and sadness that the king and queen usually do not like. But they don't seem to mind, in fact in this room where all the lords are gorging themselves and filling up, they think it is much more agitated than the atmosphere outside. An almost incomprehensible hubbub envelops the room, leaving the king before you, not uttering a word, eyes fixed on you, nodding towards a guard at the back of the room, leading to the inner corridors of the castle, a neutral look on his face, leaving his wife and lords to shout complaints and fears into every ear.

He stands up curtly as the others in the room don't take the decency to stop talking as they usually would, leaving the king to walk out the back door, with you on his heels.

"Where were you?!" He says before you can even close the door to the large hallway, "On the trail of one of them my king" Pero says, bowing his head slightly. "And?" Said the king as he placed his index finger and thumb on his nose, as if trying to relieve a headache. "We had a trail... But we got away from it because of me" you say as you look the king in the eye, not flinching, assuming that a disaster may be looming over the city because of you.

The king doesn't answer and starts pacing in front of you before continuing silently, in a calm and gentle manner that must have always been endowed with "It's nothing... I think you might have guessed it when you returned to the city, but one of them is attacking an area near here..." "And no one was AVAILABLE to stop it?... Dios mío..." says pero a little annoyed that everyone is waiting on you two. "Oh, there were many volunteers... But none came back."

You turn your gaze to Tovar understanding without him actually saying it, what the king is asking you. He nods and you do the same before turning to the king, "Where? Where did you send them?" you say, already beginning to think you're going to regret it, "The Singing Mountain... There was... If you had seen what happened there...".

He couldn't finish his sentence and squinted hard, as if to chase away painful memories buried behind his eyelids. "We've seen it all our lives," Pero said before bowing and walking out to cross the throne room. You do the same, "It will be dark soon, we can't leave now, it would be too dangerous. But at dawn we'll get started. You don't share any contact with him, out of royal respect, and simply turn on your heels to join Pero, already far away, probably thinking of a plan for tomorrow.

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

Your little house is on the outskirts of the village, a little out of the way, not that you don't like the presence of other people, but you are simply used to living like this: just the two of you.

You had already tried to live in separate houses in the village when you arrived two years ago, but every night was cut short by panicked screams and the search for comforting warmth next to you, visions and nightmares that you hadn't had in years, memories that were buried in the depths of your mind, every moment and every night that you spent in Pero's arms.

And you know that it was the same for him, even if he never mentioned it. He didn't have to. The simple fact that he would leave his house at one end of town in the middle of the night to join you under the sheets without saying anything and just let you snuggle up to him as you have done since you were children. So, you drifted away from the villagers, refusing to attach yourself to anyone else, only needing each other, sleeping together to hunt and seek comfort from the demons that plague you both when night falls. And sometimes even sharing each other's presence you feel that you are missing something... It's weird, and you don't know what it is. You don't talk about it... But you both feel it as well...

After setting up silver dust, under foliage all around your home and bringing back some stew that an old lady gave you in the village, thanking you for protecting them, and drinking a large pint of beer that Pero had left out in the house, you both finish your well-deserved meal in silence, savouring every mouthful of stew with a deliciousness like you've never tasted before... Or maybe you're just so hungry that everything would seem like a delicacy right now.

The same goes for the bed, having obviously finished before Pero who always takes a second bite and calls you "paloma", which according to what he told you simply means that you don't eat much for someone who is always crying out for food, like a little bird. You quickly head for your room so that you can have a nice bath without being disturbed by his lack of patience who you know would be there asking you every thirty seconds if you were almost finished, wanting to take a bath as well. So you were able to enjoy it fully until the water cooled, letting your muscles relax from the tumultuous journey and the stress dissolve for a short moment you cherished.

"I heard people talking about this mountain when we first arrived..." says Pero from the bathroom, waking you from your near sleep, now lying on the bed "Mmmh..." you reply far too tired to utter a word. Eyes still closed, you sit up slightly, knowing that he won't stop there. "The villagers always said that the devil lived in his heart... I didn't really pay attention to it, since there was never a murder... At least until now.”

You open your eyes hearing his voice much closer than it was a few seconds ago, and the reason being that he is standing by the bed, with only a sheet around his hips, placing his weapons beside him as he always does before going to bed. And for your part you try to look away as you always do before going to bed. At least when you sleep in a bed with him. At first it was quite simple and automatic not to look at him when you were younger and when he is only "dressed" like that... But lately it has become quite difficult... It has become quite difficult to avoid the vision of his broad shoulders and that torso getting thinner and thinner towards his waist, that aqualine nose that you imagine between your legs, before placing kisses on it as on his perfect lips and this goddamn perfect little line on it... And that scar on his beautiful obsidian black puppy-dog eyes, even if you're almost sure he doesn't like it, that scar on his face...That scar gives him a crazy charm... And everytime it become impossible to avoid to look at the droplets falling from his deep chocolate curls, sliding down that nape of his neck that you wish you could mark with your lips, to end up around his pure silver cross, shining on his golden and bronze skin...

It's become so hard to ignore this man who's practically become a god under your hungry eyes, as hard as it is to ignore the coming arousal that you feel between your legs as you watch him walk around in his armor or the mere sight of the veins and muscles in his neck give you unholy thoughts...

You turn around and help yourself to your sheets, crossing your legs to try and forget what you'd like him to do to you in that room and bed right now, thinking about how you probably wouldn't have the energy for it, and you fall asleep quicker than you thought you would, already with your mind bent on what you might find on that mountain tomorrow...

Pero watches your body rise and fall slightly with every breath you take and exhale, as he has been doing every night for the past few years... Since he was old enough to understand that you were no longer just a friend to him, that he was no longer indifferent to your curves, that he would watch you come out of the bathroom out of the corner of his eye and bend over the bed to admire your buttocks that he always imagined grabbing tightly in his hands... But he never did and was content to watch you fall asleep with your back to him, now that he can no longer see you come out with a simple sheet around you, your hair wet and your skin steaming from the good bath he would have liked to share with you... He is only content to fall asleep following your breaths, wanting deep down, much more of his Paloma...

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

You have galloped and walked all day to get to this cursed place, making you arrive around mid-day, when the sun begins its descent towards the west.

The forest is not dancing as usual, and the birds, being the reason why this mountain is called the singing mountain by their chirping, have seemingly disappeared singing no more from this cursed place under a river now red with blood. A putrid, foul smell that you can't miss is present on the scene. No bodies. Lots of blood.

"I've never seen this..."

You don't respond to his remark, but you know exactly what he is talking about. A river turned red with blood, accompanied by the smell of death, yet showing no sign of a body near the water or even in the forest you've just passed through.

Vampires kill, and abandon the corpse, having no interest in keeping the body, or if they really want a use for it, they transform the person, but in this case if, the smell of decomposing corpse and the river of blood should not be present at the scene.

"I don't like this Pero...".

He doesn't answer and just grunts before pulling out his sword and pushing you back slightly. You do the same and pull out your sword, never having doubted his ability to sense the presence of another being, other than the two of you. "It's not dark enough for it to be one," you say, watching carefully around you. "The king would never send his men out in the middle of the night," he says, passing you some silver powder. "How..."

You don't finish your sentence and freeze. Your hands tighten on the hilt of your sword, and you look into the shadows of the forest at the glowing yellow eye sockets. A man you can't make out is watching you without moving. Pero notices this too and pushes you behind him, instinctively as he does every time, even though he knows you can defend yourself, he never misses an opportunity to throw himself between you and the danger... And you will do the same for him when the opportunity arises.

"Come here!" he shouted with a smile, taunting this bloodsucking bastard, who for his part did not move a muscle. He's watching both you, and you're getting more and more worried, not understanding why he's not attacking you, as they all do. This is not a usual behaviour from them... What is going on here...

Your question evaporates as he evaporates, not approaching you, or attacking you. You tug lightly on Pero's arm, asking him to return to the horse. He didn't insist and followed you, sword in hand, running and climbing on the horses as fast as he could.

"What was that?!" you shouted at him at a gallop not far from him, who stopped dead in his tracks a few paces away from you "Pero what..." "I don't know!" he says, a growing frustration in his eyes that you know only too well, a look he gets when he is about to do something impulsive. "Pero you're not going back!" "He didn't attack us..." "That doesn't mean he won't next time! What's wrong with you?!" You say completely dumbfounded by your best friend, willing to risk his life to prove a point.

FUCK PERO!

You follow him in spite of yourself, knowing that you couldn't forgive yourself for leaving him to die alone in those woods, whether it was his choice or not.

A million thoughts go through your head as Pero is hit by something. You jump off your horse and swing your sword at a man in your path, a man who did not flinch at the shock of a galloping horse. You throw a sword at him which he quickly avoids and disappears again, but you know this kind of technique well, you have fought them all your life. You grab a dagger in your other hand and stand back-to-back with pero who has just straightened up.

"I told you we should have left," you say, more than a little frustrated by events that could have been avoided. "This is not the time." He says as he begins to fight the creature in front of you, moving far too quickly for you to anticipate any movement.

He's faster. Smarter than anything you've encountered before, and despite Pero's ability to inflict some cuts with his pure silver sword, the vampire doesn't give in. But it doesn't kill us for all that... A sentence that goes through your head thinking that it could kill you both in a few seconds if it really wanted to... No, this thing is looking for something...

You don't take any more chances and grab your powder and throw it at the thing, which is screaming in pain, looking at you with reddened eyes, sharp fangs and black veins around its eyes like you've never seen before... "PERO THE HORSES!". He thinks for half a second about killing this thing here and now, but sees the powder starting to dissipate and prefers not to risk both of you getting killed here and now... Not to risk YOUR death here and now which would ultimately be his fault...

You gallop off without looking back, not understanding what you just saw.

⊱•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ •⊰

"PERO WHAT DID YOU DO THERE?!" you say as you slam the door of the house and drop your weapons on the floor "You could have gotten us both killed! You saw what that thing did!" "It didn't kill us... Why?" he says as he sits down on one of the chairs calmly, too calm for what just happened "Is that really the only thing that bothers you about what just happened Pero?!" you say as you bang on the table.

He straightens up curtly and approaches you with a dark look in his eyes, "Aren't you even asking yourself that question? Don't you want to know why he left us alive? Why didn't he kill us or just jump down our throats and kill us like they all do? ¡Miénteme! LIE TO ME?! TRY LYING TO ME!" He says, banging on the table in turn.

You don't respond, knowing he's right, but you can't help it, impulsive behaviour like that could have killed you both. "I shouldn't have gone back there I know that Paloma... But I don't understand..." he says more calmly trying to apologize in his own way. You take him in your arms, understanding that he acted in incomprehension and panic "I also wonder Pero but don't ever do that again... He was smarter... Faster... And seems to control himself in front of living people... We never had to deal with that" you say holding him tighter, also needing a little comfort, adrenaline gradually coming down.

"She's right!"

You flinch and Pero pulls his sword straight out pushing you behind him, hearing a voice coming from your kitchen. Your eyes widen as you realise that the vampire you fought a few hours ago is the man in the room...

"Your powder has no effect on me, cuties... Should you have tried the wooden stakes?" he says, leaning slowly against one of the walls in front of you. "The wooden stakes are too big, a risk. You have to get too close and we're not stupid enough for that," Pero says dryly.

Those features... A protruding jaw, puppy dog eyes that dominate a fierce rage and that aquiline nose... You turn to Pero and move from him to this man, noticing that your friend, has similar features with this creature in front of you even if his hair is longer than pero, but he doesn't seem to really care or even notice it, it's actually the least of his concerns "Why are we still alive? "He says, putting his weapon on the table behind him, understanding that this creature does not intend to kill you, that if it really wanted to, it would not have bothered to let you go and then follow you and interrupt you... Or would have simply killed you in this forest.

He took a step closer but changed his mind when he saw that Pero was keeping a hand on one of his weapons. "Because I'm not the one you're looking for" says the vampire. Pero looked at you wide-eyed and started to laugh, a dark laugh, far from being amused by the situation. "Do you hear that? Now they're coming to our house to haggle," he said, jostling you slightly, still not making you smile.

You know that side of Pero. That unstable side that loses control of itself and doesn't know how to deal with the information and emotions it receives, which are far too numerous to process quickly enough for events that are far too unfamiliar to its eyes. And you don't blame him because you yourself don't know how to deal with it all. "I'm not happy about talking to you..." you say, trying not to play on each other's nerves. "...But you haven't killed us yet, so I'll give you a minute to explain what you want from us."

He stares at you for a few seconds, examining you from head to toe, not missing the look of disgust and hatred on your face. "You're looking for my creator... And I need you to kill him" he said, staring into your eyes, a teasing smile on his face, very sure of himself, yet very serious about the words he just said "Vampires are normally very attached to their creator, I think you're setting us up" you said, crossing your arms "She can't understand that if I wanted you dead you'd have been dead long ago!

He disappeared for a few seconds and found himself next to you, making you jump up and grab tovar's sword behind you to point it at him. He stared at the blade and ran his finger over it, causing smoke to billow from his skin, like at the end of a fire. "I'm not one of the little vampires you usually fight, which makes me... superior to what you're used to..." Tovar rolled his eyes and stepped in front of you, again, instinctively offering his body as a barrier to protect you, letting the man finish, always having a thought of skewering him at any moment "... I'm not dependent on him... At least not completely. But I don't serve him like all those vermin you hunt every day, who don't know how to control themselves or even think for themselves."

He loosens his last words with a more than visible disgust, arranging his clothes and slowly walking around the table without taking his eyes off you. "I don't depend on him. I'm not attached to him in any way... At least not emotionally... Physically it's something else: I can't kill him, not with my own hands." he says, staring deeply into the wood of the table, as if he could see his own reflection there.

"And you need us for that?!" Pero laughed a dark laugh like you've never heard, now less and less amused by the situation, knowing that he could launch himself at the thing in front of you at any moment. You grab him by the arm before he does something stupid and pull him away from the vampire "We should do it Pero." He widened his eyes and reached up to your face, grabbing your cheeks, as if to check that you hadn't been bewitched. You clapped his hands and told him you were fine before continuing, "If he leads us to his master..." "HE'S NOT MY MASTER!" he shouts from across the room letting you know that he can hear anything you say.

You look at Pero and let him know you'll explain the rest later by miming dust between your fingers, as you've done since you were little, before continuing "When he leads us to his MASTER, we can at least find out where he is and kill him! That's what we've wanted for weeks, Pero."

He's not thrilled. He realizes the danger you're going to face and knows that you've already faced a lot of such danger in your life... But he's not excited. He doesn't know if he can trust the information this thing has just given him, and if he should trust it at all. He doesn't want to have to trust it, and he can see in your eyes that you don't want to either... But he also understands that you have no choice after the king's request. So he lets his gaze shift from yours to the vampire's. "Okay. We leave tomorrow morning," he says, stepping around you and approaching the vampire, a more stern look on his face than he usually wears "... But if you were foolish enough to betray us, know this..." "... That you'll kill me?" he cuts Tovar off with a laugh and moves closer to him "And I'll let you do beautiful."

You chuckle and cross your arms and squint your eyes, amused "We already don't trust you..." "I know that sweetheart" "...BUT that's no reason to lie to us" you say, raising your voice, slightly annoyed by his condescending air.

He tries to get around Tovar, who won't let him pass, and shakes his head to let him know he's definitely not going to approach you. "Believe me..." he said as he put his gaze into yours, a serious, not amused gaze "... If I tell you I'd let you do it it's simply that I'd rather it be you than him."

He nodded to you, then to Tovar, and walked towards the front door.

"Oh, and I'd rather be Max Phillips than 'that thing'," he said as he closed the door behind him, leaving you and Tovar in a state of anxiety and nervousness the likes of which you hadn't had in a long time, leaving you both that night alive to the slightest background noise, the slightest shadow passing through the thin draperies of your windows...

•

Chapter 2

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lettheladylead · 3 years

Text

Not Your Aunt

Chapter 1: Donald

[ao3 link]

She was nobody’s aunt.

Well, maybe she was once, but she’d lost touch with her family decades earlier and they were long dead by the time she arrived at this new, unfounded dilemma.

When she’d first come across her rival-with-benefits carrying around two little kids, her initial reaction was a twinge of angry jealousy. Maybe they weren’t exclusive but come on! Kids? A family? Seriously? Then it hit her that these kids were at least eleven or twelve (or eight or sixteen, who knew how kids aged) and she’d last visited Scrooge just a few years prior. So the jealousy dissipated and was replaced with pure confusion.

“They’re Hortense’s kids,” he’d said succinctly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. They didn’t look that much like Hortense, though Goldie had only met the woman once.

“So what is this, then? Babysitting?”

Scrooge laughed in a way that pissed her off the tiniest bit. “No, no. Hortense and her husband just decided to take a wee trip for themselves is all.”

“...so you’re babysitting,” she’d said with a hand on her hip. Why couldn’t he just answer her questions with a yes or a no? She didn’t need all the extra details. Him blabbing on with unnecessary detail was the whole reason she knew more about his family than she did her own.

“Ack, call it what you will!”

The 1990s was an odd decade for her. Just a few years earlier, Scrooge had personally invited her to his home for the very first time and she thought something was going to come of that. Of course, nothing did. Then he started bringing children with him on his adventures, the adventures she used to tag along on - out of all his attempts over the years, it was the most effective way to keep her from following him. She didn’t want to hang out with kids, lower their excursions to a PG-rating and split treasure four ways instead of two.

Unfortunately, old habits die hard, and she did find herself spending time with the twins every now and again. They didn’t seem to understand her any better than their uncle did, and she didn’t understand them at all. They were loud and rambunctious and very different from one another and very different from Scrooge. Della was overly enthusiastic and kept trying to jump headfirst into danger. Donald clearly didn’t want to be out and about - Goldie had the distinct feeling he just wanted to sit in his room and play guitar. She liked that he had an appreciation for music.

He also seemed to appreciate having another adult around on dangerous adventures, what with the way he’d grab her arm or try to hide behind her when things got tough. Goldie found it very, very annoying, but it’d be even more annoying to shove him away and deal with that aftermath. So on a particular adventure in the Middle East - one where she’d legitimately accidentally come across Scrooge and his family while she was hunting the same treasure - she let him grab while Scrooge and Della forged ahead and ignored the boy’s discomfort.

She watched Scrooge talking so animatedly with the young girl and felt her own discomfort creeping in. She'd only just started to accept the fact that he was turning into a family man. But there were some obvious concerns with that realization. Particularly the fact that family men didn’t want to spend time with women like her. Family men wanted a wife.

“Miss Goldie?”

She looked down at the boy who’d finally let go of her arm, but was awkwardly trying to walk at the exact same speed as her while trying to look casual about it. “Hm?”

“Are you gonna come back to the manor with us this time?”

She blinked, surprised by the question. “Um...probably not.”

“Why not?”

“...why would I?”

Donald frowned. “Uncle Scrooge always gets sad when you leave. Didn’t he ask you to come over?”

“Oh, please. Scrooge would never purposefully invite me into his home.” She didn’t count the Christmas party. She let her expectations get ahead of her that night when he was just inviting everyone he knew and didn’t want to exclude her. It didn’t count.

“Why? ‘Cause you’ll steal stuff?”

“Seems like a good enough reason to me.” She shrugged and stared at the back of Scrooge’s head. “He’s pretty protective of all his priceless junk, you know.”

The kid stayed silent for a few moments and Goldie thought she was in the clear from this odd little conversation, but then he was back with more. “It’s just kinda weird.”

“...hm?” she mumbled while taking a drink from the canteen she’d stolen from Scrooge two decades earlier.

“I mean, like...you’re basically our aunt, right?”

What a waste of water. Goldie’s nice, clean water that she’d collected for herself before this adventure started, and now it’d been dramatically spit all over the ground, almost hitting Scrooge and his niece. But in her defense, there was no way in the world she could’ve seen that question coming. None. Nada. Zip.

Donald looked exceptionally concerned as she coughed and sputtered and slammed her fist against her chest a few times. Scrooge and Della even turned to see what was going on.

Goldie just shook her head at them and Scrooge immediately turned back around while Della gave the older woman a suspicious glare before joining him.

As soon as her voice came back to her, she pointed an aggressive finger in Donald’s face. “I am absolutely not your aunt, not even close, not even a little bit. Never,” she said quietly but angrily, not wanting Scrooge to hear this embarrassing conversation. “I am just some lady you know that likes to piss off your uncle, got it?”

Donald made a face that said the-lady-doth-protest-too-much but shrugged and went back to being silent. They still had another mile to walk through this forest before they reached the supposed location of the Temple of Nanna, which Della was particularly excited about because why wouldn’t she be? She wasn’t afraid of all the snakes they’d seen and she didn’t wonder if there were any apex predators waiting to eat them and she wasn’t paranoid about falling off a ledge and respawning back at the beginning again. Er, well. Yeah.

He shook his head and looked up at Goldie. She didn’t seem afraid of any of that stuff, either. Why did TV shows always make girls seem so frail and scared when every girl he knew was tougher and braver than him? It seemed kind of unfair. But maybe their family was just weird.

Goldie caught him staring at her and glared as if she was about to yell at him about mentally referring to her as family. He turned his attention forward to stare at the back of Della’s head instead. Then he turned to look at Uncle Scrooge, who was talking about the god of the ziggurat they were going to and how he impacted the people who used to live there.

He peeked up at Goldie again and noticed her staring at Scrooge and looking...weirdly sad. Like she was bored and didn’t expect to be. He considered saying something to her when he heard a hissing sound to his left and immediately screeched and jumped up, wrapping his arms around Goldie’s neck.

“AUNT GOLDIE HELP MEEEEEE!”

On reflex, Goldie did hold onto the kid and kick the tiny little baby snake away from them, but she looked very pissed off.

Scrooge and Della stared at them and Scrooge was blushing quite a bit while Donald’s words processed in his head. “...Aunt?”

“What did I just say?!” Goldie angry-whispered at the boy in her arms.

Donald’s eyes watered and he frowned. “I-I’m sorry, I just got really scared, and-”

As he spoke, Goldie accidentally looked up and made eye contact with Scrooge, who looked somewhere between excited and flattered and confused and maybe even a bit disturbed. His look made her heart do a backflip and she felt her brain deflate as she tried to think of what to say or do next. Aunt, wife, family...it was a bit too much for her. She tugged Donald’s arms off of her and roughly threw him at Scrooge, who caught him with relative ease.

“I’m done with this,” Goldie muttered in annoyance. She could see Scrooge was about to comment and ask what she meant by that, but then she quickly zipped past him in the direction of the temple, tired of going slow so the kids could keep up. She wasn’t in the mood for family-friendly adventures and she was barely in the mood for Scrooge-friendly adventures anymore.

Scrooge scoffed as she ran on ahead. “Goldie you no-good, greedy-!!!” he shouted, shaking a fist as he put Donald back down. “Ack, I’m sorry, kids. I thought she and I were in a good place right now, but it seems I misjudged.”

“She always does this, Uncle Scrooge!” Della crossed her arms over her chest. “I just don’t get why you let her come along!”

He chuckled awkwardly and scratched the back of his head. “Ah...it’s hard to explain. We have a lot of history.” Scrooge glanced at Donald, who looked uncomfortably sad. It wasn’t hard to figure out that he blamed himself for Goldie leaving them. He put a hand on the boy’s head and hoped it was at least a little comforting. “She always finds a reason to leave me behind, but I’m glad I’ve got you two with me this time!”

Della rolled her eyes and Donald just shrugged. Scrooge had a feeling they needed a distraction, since they were bound to run into Goldie again when they reached the temple. “Let me just grab the map and we’ll continue on our way……………..”

Scrooge patted at his pocket that he knew the map was in. Then he patted at his other pockets. Then he took off his hat and reached into it, checking the many pockets in there. Empty. Which could only mean one thing...

“GOLDIE!!!!” he shouted suddenly, scaring the twins and making animals scatter away from them.

Goldie, sweaty and out-of-breath and just a few feet from the temple entrance, smirked at the sound of Scrooge’s scream. She pulled out the map and looked up to make sure she was using the right entrance to avoid booby traps. She almost laughed at the thought of Scrooge having to navigate his way through spikes and arrows.

Then she thought about Donald’s stupid little face and the way he looked at her when he called her aunt and she felt an angry betraying twinge in her heart. She sighed in frustration before grabbing a knife out of her pocket and carving a checkmark into the entranceway that she knew was safe. It wasn’t the kid’s fault that Scrooge was dragging him on dangerous adventures. She’d be nice. Just this once.

#ducktales #goldie o'gilt #donald duck #scroldie #scrooge mcduck #della duck #fic #fics #this is not the fic i was talking about yesterday i ended up starting something else cuz i hate myself i guess #not your aunt

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mysoftboybensolo · 3 years

Text

The Alienist and the Soprano

Chapter 9: The Abduction

A/N: This was inspired by Laszlo’s love of opera and my thought on what if he fell for an opera singer. Multi chapter. Canon divergence, there is no Mary Palmer here (I loved Mary and Laszlo, so I don’t feel like I could have her here and have him be with another woman). A mix of show and book canons. No Y/N, OC named Evelina Lind.

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32029150

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Fem OC!

Summary: The last thing Laszlo Kreizler ever expected while investigating the death of children was to fall in love, and with an opera singer no less!

Warnings: Age gap, kidnapping, violence and death.

Evelina's body ached all over and her vision was blurry. What happened? As her body came to, her mind was dragging behind. She was crying over Laszlo, Sara had left, leaving her and Tessie alone. A bell rang, no not the church bell, it was softer, higher pitched. Doorbell. A scream. Yes, it was coming back to her.

Tessie remained by Evelina’s side, trying to help calm and comfort her, when the doorbell rang. “I’ll be right back.” Tessie went down the stairs and answered the door.

“Pardon me, Miss, I was wondering if you be interested in an encyclopedia.”

“No thank you,” Tessie tried to close the door, but the man gently interrupted her.

“Well, is your master or mistress at home?”

“No, she is not, but she would not be interested either.”

“What about the other lady? She might be interested.”

Tessie felt her blood run cold. “How do you know about the other lady?”

The man stares at her, his smile grows and becomes sinister, which made Tessie try to shove the door in his face, but he shoved himself in, knocking her down to the ground.

Evelina heard a loud thud, pulling her from her misery and out from the room. As she went down the stairs, she saw a man on top of Tessie, struggling. “Tessie!” The man gave a punch to the maid’s face, knocking her out, then turned. No, it couldn’t be.

“Evelina,” Winston spoke her name with longing.

Fear gripped her heart and she ran back up the stairs, hoping to barricade herself in the room but Winston was fast and before she could block the entrance, he barged in. “Get out,” her voice hoarse, her eyes wild with fear.

“Not without you, sweetie. Come.” He stepped forward, and Evelina reached over to the nightstand and threw a vase at him, and while it did hit him, it did nothing to deter him. “You seem to have forgotten your manners, sweetie.” He lunged before she knew it, grabbed her and dragged her away. She tried to hold onto the doorframe, but he was much stronger than she and all she did was leave marks on the wood. Once he had her away from the room, he punched her so hard, she was left unconscious, making it easier for him to carry her away. He didn’t care if the door to the house was open, he had what he wanted and with her in his carriage, he raced off to the opera.

Winston was nothing if not through, for he planned this ever since he spotted her on the stoop with that man. Dr. Laszlo Kreizler. Son of Leopold and Jozefa Kreizler, only child and heir to the publishing fortune, an alienist specializing in children, age forty, no children of his own, never married. Avid lover of opera, and intensely interested in one Evelina Lind. What Winston couldn’t understand was why she was interested in him; sure, he was wealthy, but he never took her to be a whore, willing to do anything for money. And if it wasn’t for the money, it couldn’t be his looks, for he was also sixteen years older than her, a cripple and with a profession that was looked down by society. It had to have been a moment of madness, he convinces himself, now that I am here, she’ll never look at him twice again.

The past few days were spent exploring the opera, checking the entries and exits that he can slip in unseen, and the best place to hide. The prop room was filled with many things and one can easily hide if one so wished. Through a door in the alley, he carried Evelina, who was still unconscious and carried her down to the prop room, and once set her down on a sofa, he worked to tie her hands and feet, making certain she didn’t move while they waited. He looked down at her and sighed. Nine years of not seeing her had been torment to him, and he thought she grew even more beautiful.

He knew that his feelings were more than brotherly when their mother died and she was beginning to blossom into a young woman, in fact, it was at their mother’s funeral did he notice the changes in her. The problem was that the boys noticed the change as well. She was slipping away from him and he hated that, he hated her for wanting to get away, for allowing the boys to flirt and growing up. His love was violent and obsessive, made him say and do hateful things, but it hurt to see her turn away from him. How could she not see his suffering, see that his cruelty came from his desire for her, how all he wanted to do was protect her from the men who wanted to take her away from him?

That boy tried to, the one who kissed her hand, who made her smile, a smile that she never shared with him. So, he hunted that boy down and beat him, not caring what his actions did, for he was blinded by his anger, jealousy, and fear, that only when he grew tired had he realize what he did. The boy was dead, barely recognizable, but he didn’t care. Let this be a warning to anyone else who dares to take my sweetie away from me. And when he did at last confess his feelings, instead of throwing her arms around him and pled her undying love and passion, she reacted with disgust and horror. Why? Why such horror? He had to try and make her see his feelings and tried to kiss and caress her as lovers would, but she fought, screamed and then Papa came in and ruined everything.

Papa had separated the pair and since that day, Winston vowed he’d never forgive his father, vowed he’d find a way back to her. Nine years of waiting and the time at last came, he was let go because his father’s funds ended, and he went back home. She must be waiting for me, burning as I burn. But he found that the house was occupied by another family, and she had fled. It took him a while to figure out where, but he managed to find out and boarded the first boat to America.

No longer oceans apart, so close as they were that last day, and everything will be well again.

He watched as she slowly came to, a soft moan escaping, no doubt from the aches in her body, and watched as everything came back to her. When she saw him, she screamed, tried to get away, but found herself bound and Winston clasping his hand over her mouth. “Shhh! Now, now, none of that, sweetie.”

Evelina was gasping heavily even beneath the hand, tears forming in her eyes. When he removed his hand, she gulped then softly pleaded, “Please, Winston. Please let me go.”

“Oh, I can’t, not yet. We are expecting company, and I said you’d be here.”

“Company?” she asked.

“A party of three, you, me and Dr. Kreizler.”

Horror came across her face, and once again she began to beg, even more desperately, “Winston, please, you do not have to! There is no reason for him being here. He means nothing!”

“I saw you! I saw you two on the stoop, holding hands and so close. You looked at him the way I always wanted to be looked at. And then to see you in the park with him, so happy. He even held you in his arms as you danced, so close and intimate. You even allowed him to call you by your Christian name. Oh, Evelina!” he moaned, “How could you! How could you forget me? How could you forsake me? Me, who waited and suffered for you all these years, kept the memory of you painted in my mind for nine years, waiting to find you. You left me, and you choose him!”

She cried, because all she could remember was that day in the den, fearful that no one would come for her, hearing the same mad ramblings of her brother. Oh, please God, she silently prayed, help me escape, let me see Laszlo once more and be safe again.

A sound came echoing into the room, making Evelina and Winston look towards the sound, and desperate, she opened her mouth to try and scream, but Winston was quick and stuffed a handkerchief in her mouth as he went to inspect the sound. She struggled and tried to escape, falling off the sofa and to the ground, but it did no good. Winston had returned, and she could see that he was holding a baton, blood on the tip.

“It was, sadly, not our honored guest. But this fellow won’t be bothering us anymore.”

Laszlo hurried to the opera, hoping that he was not too late. He would not have Sara come along, fearful that if Winston even sees her, something dreadful will happen, but instead had given her instructions and went on his own. He bypassed the singers and dancers, who looked at him curiously. Ernest tried to approach him, but he instead demanded where the prop room was.

“I can show you, if you like.”

“No, just tell me. Please Ernest, don’t ask questions. It’s a matter of life or death!”

Ernest complied and watched as his friend hurried off, then he went to his office to make a call.

Laszlo followed the path, his heart beating furiously. If something has happened or will happen to her, it will be because of him and he will never forgive himself. He froze when he came across a figure lying on the ground, but then carefully moved towards it and found it was a man, blood coming from his head, dead. This was what Laszlo was going to face, a madman who was unafraid to use violence if necessary.

“Winston!” Laszlo called out, letting him know he was approaching.

Winston smiled and Evelina struggled. “Ah, here he has come. I knew he would,” he jeered at Evelina. “Come, Dr. Kreizler, we have been expecting you!”

Laszlo turned the corner and carefully walked through the maze of props until he found them. His eyes immediately found Evelina, who was sitting against the sofa on the floor, bound and gagged, tears streaming down her face. It broke him to see her like this. Then he looked over to the man who started all this. Yes, it was exactly as Evelina described him, even with the mad and frightening look in his blue eyes. He knew he had to tread lightly if anyone was hoping to get out alive.

“Dr. Laszlo Kreizler, what a pleasure to finally meet you! I have heard a great deal about you.” The words sent a shiver up Laszlo’s spine, not so much of what Winston said, but how it was said, as if this was a normal social event in which these two men have met. “It’s wonderful to see the man, face to face.”

“And you, Winston,” Laszlo said carefully, his eyes darting to Evelina. “A rather unusual place to meet.”

“Yes, well, I wanted privacy, and I am certain that we are?” He asked, looking at Laszlo with mad eyes, hoping he hadn’t been foolish to bring anyone else here.

“As you said, this is a party of three. It would have been rude of me to invite anyone else.”

Winston smiled. “Good. Very good. You see, this is such a personal gathering, and we need not have spectators. It has come to my attention that you and my sister, my sweet foolish sister,” he says as he hosts her up on the sofa, removing the gag, “Have been seeing quite a lot of each other. Funny, but to the outside eye, it would almost look like you were courting. But it couldn’t be, could it? You are so much older than her, lame and frowned upon. What could a young and beautiful woman like her want to do with you? When she could have someone like me?”

“Winston, please,” Evelina sobbed out, her lip trembling.

He hushed her, his hand brushing along her hair and cheek. “Hush now, the adults are talking. I can only assume it was done in a moment of madness, I mean, look,” he takes hold of her bound hands, roughly pulling her up, her back to him, making her look at Laszlo. “Do you see? Him and me. There is no comparison, there can be no doubt of who she’d rather be with.”

“Winston,” Laszlo started, a small step forward, “You are right. Compared to me, who wouldn’t want to be with you. You are young, handsome, and strong, I couldn’t offer what she would want. So, I think the best thing is for you to let her go and let it be decided by us men,” he said, playing to Winston’s perceptions and ego.

“Oh, I would, but she ran from me once. I can’t bear to let her go again. I waited nine years for her. And like some pathetic dog, I had to be satisfied with so little; a glimpse of her leaving the opera, the scent of her knickers,” he pressed his nose to her hair, inhaling the scent, “So sweet, flowery. Can you feel it, sweetie? Can you feel how much I love you, want you?”

Evelina wanted to gag at the feeling of Winston pressing is body against hers, making her feel a hint of his arousal, and she sobbed harder. “Winston, please, let us go!”

He chuckled darkly, “Not yet. We can’t leave just yet, I need you to see,” he moved down and untied her feet, his hand running up her leg, over her hip and across her breasts as he got up and began to untie her hands, “I need you to see why I am better for you. Why it should be me, instead of him.” Letting her go, she took a deep breathe, as if she was being strangled, and watched in horror as he approached the doctor. “What do you say, Kreizler, show her who is deserving of her love?”

Without warning, Winston struck Laszlo with the baton, making Laszlo fall to the ground. No, he was not dead, Winston wasn’t going to give him the mercy of a swift death, but to suffer, to let him know who was stronger, braver, better for Evelina. “Come on. Come on! Fight back you cripple!” But Winston didn’t allow Laszlo a chance to get up and fight back, for any chance he did, Winston would kick him, beat him, making him fall back to the ground, his body in pain everywhere.

Evelina watched in horror as Winston attacked Laszlo, blood on the baton, the same wicked smile on his face that she had grown to fear. “No! No, please Winston! Take me, I’ll go with you. Just please, don’t hurt him!”

Winston stopped, looking up at her, a look came over him, as he stepped over his victim and looked at her. “Why? Tell me why.” Gripping the back of her neck, forcing her closer to him, he jeered, “Tell me why I should spare him.”

“Because…” She hesitated. Would her words set him free, or damn him to a cruel death?

“Say it. I want to hear you say the words.”

“Because I love him. Because if you kill him, you kill me too.”

Laszlo weakly looked up at her, stunned by the words she just said. Was Sara telling the truth? Did truly hear what she said? Or was this just a cruel trick that his mind was playing on him?

Winston too was surprised, but it was not at all the happy kind. “Love? You could love him? An old cripple who can’t even fight back, who can’t protect you.” Winston dropped the baton to completely take hold of her, his grip tight like a vice. “Why not me? Why can you give your love to everyone else in this God forsaken world, but not me?”

If he intends to kill her here and now, she would at last let her truth be known. “How could I give love to someone whose sole purpose in life is to make everyone else miserable? Who has haunted me like a shadow that destroys all that is good and honest? Love you? I could never love anything so ugly and cruel.”

His face twisted in anger and a hand shot to her throat, squeezing just enough. “Ugly and cruel? You haven’t seen what ugly and cruel can be. And I’ll take your love, make you love me.” He slammed her down on the ground, his body pressed on top of her. “Even if I must break you to do it.”

Evelina struggled, even scratching his face at one point, creating a terrible sense of déjà vu, but just when she thought she was going to lose, she heard a loud thunk which caused her brother to cry out in pain and release her from his grip. Evelina’s eyes managed to focus properly and she saw Laszlo, bloody, beaten but standing with the baton in hand and ready to strike again. Winston’s daze left him unable to attack back, to which Laszlo used to his advantage.

Kicking him off of her, Laszlo stood over him the baton in hand and a dangerous look in his eye. “Leave her alone.” The words were slow, deliberate, like a man who was pushed to his limit and was on the verge of snapping.

Winston, who laid on his back, staring up at Laszlo, began to laugh. “Go ahead, cripple. Beat me. I know you want to. Be a man, prove to her that you deserve her.” He laughed, knowing he wouldn’t do it.

Laszlo stared down this man and he realized something. “As much as I would love to, I won’t end your suffering. I’ll let you live with this knowledge; you are pathetic. You’ve lived your entire life desperately needing people, but hating them for your supposed weakness. You are incapable of real love, and it leaves you empty. And I think you know that it does. I’ll let you live, knowing that you’ll never achieve what you’ve been chasing your whole life.”

Laszlo held the baton tightly, hobbling over to Evelina, leaning over to check on her, and with his back to Winston, he didn’t see the young man pull out a knife and come charging at him with the intention of killing him. But a loud bang prevented that from happening, making Evelina cry out in shock and for them both to look in Winston’s direction.

Police officers came rushing in, surrounding the area, with Roosevelt leading the way. Laszlo tried to help Evelina up, but his own bruised and broken body prevented him from doing so, making Evelina and another officer help him. “It’s about time you came,” Laszlo quipped, looking at Roosevelt, who looked relieved that they managed to make it on time.

“Yes, between Sara coming to the office and the manager phoning us about your strange behavior, we had to come. I am sorry though,” he says with sincerity, “That I hadn’t helped sooner.”

A weak moan came from Winston, making Evelina step closer and looked down at her brother’s dying body. The blood was pouring out quickly from him, and she knew he would not make it. “Evelina, sweetie…” He reached out his hand for her, hoping for one last comfort, confirmation of what he wanted to hear.

She stared at him coolly, shook her head and merely muttered, “Go to hell, Winston.”

He looked so broken, hurt, but she would not find it within herself to feel sorry for him, not all the fear and hurt he instilled in her through the years. He died looking at her, seeing her face cold and hateful, knowing he was unloved. His last breath made her breathe once again. Now, she can live without fear.

Her attention quickly shifted to Laszlo, who was relying upon an officer to hold him up, and she took his arm around her shoulders and helped him walk up to the surface. Memebers of the opera house watched in concern and worry as they seen Evelina walking out with a beaten Laszlo and officer along with them.

"Evelina, are you alright?"

"What happened?"

"Is there anything we can do?"

Ernest watched as they walked out, sighing a huge sigh of relief to see that they both were alright, that his call was not in vain.

The officer helped them to his carriage, and like a devoted lover, Evelina remained by Laszlo. Her brave and wonderful Laszlo who has saved her twice, who had been there for her and now, she could be there for him. Laszlo went back and forth out of consciousness, his eyes focused on Evelina, making sure she was alright. He tried to speak, but he felt so tired, so weak. Even if he died here in this carriage, even if he wouldn't make it long enough to apologize for his careless words, nothing mattered more than knowing that she was safe. Evelina was free.

Tagging: @monsieurbruhl, @cazzyimagines, @violetmuses, @flutterskies, @sokoviandelights, @rumblelibrary, @fictionlandslanddreams, and @barnesxnobles.

#the alienist #laszlo kreizler #daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #fanfiction

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hockeylvr59 · 4 years

Text

Honest Love || Cale Makar

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: And we’re off...What better way to celebrate this man’s birthday than with the first chapter of the sequel??? We’re backtracking a little bit to cover the gap I purposely created so this picks up right after part 24 of Secret Love. We’re going to see a little more of Cale’s POV here in the sequel (***** will be your signal of a switch in viewpoints) and I hope you enjoy that additional insight into this relationship that I am head over heels in love with. Quick shoutout to @nazdaddy for the necklace jewelry concept...it didn’t get used before but I didn’t forget about it. I think that’s all I’ve got...let me know what you think.

Gif Credit: @samgirard

Warnings: cursing

Word Count: 3,385

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was shortly after noon when you pulled into the parking lot of the Avs practice facility. You were tired but beyond relieved to have finally reached Denver after a combined sixteen hours in the car over the past two days. Climbing out of the car you stretched, grateful that you had less than half an hour driving left in you after your little detour.

Walking down the hallways of the practice rink, you smiled at the sound of skates on ice as they slowly grew louder. Having been given directions, it wasn’t long before you found yourself standing at the end of the hallway right beside the benches. For a few minutes, you watched the players perform an offensive drill, quickly spotting your boyfriend moving across the ice.

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before he spotted you as well and after finishing the drill, he skated over, reaching into the bench area. Finding what he was looking for, he continued along, greeting you with a quick kiss as he dropped the item into your open hand.

“Talk later.” He promised, stealing one more quick kiss before skating away to the sound of his teammates’ chirps.

“Hey, Makar...if you wanted a kiss all you had to do was ask.” EJ ribbed, shoving Cale gently.

“Yeah...pay attention.” Nate teased. “I know we’re not as pretty as your girl but…”

“Don’t tell me you dragged her down here just to help you settle in,” Gabe stated, leaning on his stick as he shook his head at the former rookie.

“Fuck off.” Cale groaned peeking over at you. “I had to get her an apartment key okay. You know...so she can actually move in.” Even from across the rink you could see that his cheeks were flushed and his dimples were on full display as he spoke. His words caused whoops to spill from his teammates’ lips and after watching Cale jostle with them for a few minutes, you shook your head before finally heading back out to the car.

By the time you pulled into the underground lot of Cale’s…your building, you were ready to go upstairs and just crawl into bed for a nap. Gathering up your purse, overnight bag, and one of the smaller boxes, you locked the car and headed upstairs, letting yourself inside the apartment you now shared with your boyfriend.

As you turned to head into the main living area, your eyes immediately landed on the ‘welcome home’ banner hanging above the island. Beneath it, a beautiful bouquet of roses was placed next to a bottle of your favorite wine and a small box. Setting your things down, you pulled the small card out of the bouquet, your eyes taking in Cale’s scratchy writing.

Welcome home beautiful.

I love you and am so grateful you agreed to move in with me.

Cale

Again...Cale was just too much and you hadn’t even opened the small box yet. Gingerly picking it up, you cracked the lid open and your eyes went wide. Inside was a teardrop-shaped pendant with a practically flawless opal surrounded by tiny diamonds. This was way way too much but you knew Cale would refuse to take it back. He’d insist that you were doing so much for him that you deserved to be spoiled a little. And it didn’t pass your notice that he’d picked an opal...his birthstone.

Popping the bottle of wine in the fridge, you gathered up the necklace along with your overnight bag and the box and made your way through to the bedroom. There you found post-its attached to all of the drawers Cale had emptied for you, including one of the two bedside tables. Even though he’d only been in town for a day and a half longer, he’d already gone to great lengths to ensure that you were able to transition into the space as easily as possible.

Unpacking the few items you’d already brought up, you settled onto the couch for a few minutes just needing to take a breath. This was big...and it would take some time before this place felt like your own. Dozing off, you jolted awake at the sound of the apartment door hitting the doorstop.

“Hey sweetheart, I dragged Josty with me to come help unload boxes and Calvy tagged along...where are your car keys?” When Cale finally appeared in front of you he clearly noticed your groggy state and immediately the volume of his voice dropped. “Sorry...I woke you didn’t I?”

“Guess I dozed off.” You admitted, blinking a few times and yawning as you pushed yourself to your feet. “Keys are on the island.” You declared, pointing in their general direction.

“Hi.” Cale grinned, kissing you again before pulling away to snatch the keys. “Don’t worry about lifting a finger, we’ve got the rest.” He insisted.

A few minutes later, the three men were dropping boxes off in the living room while you stood looking out the window, taking in your new surroundings.

“Thanks, guys,” You declared, looking back over your shoulder.

“No worries.” Tyson insisted. “I live in the building anyway so it’s not really out of my way at all.”

“And I wanted to meet the woman Cale can’t shut up about.” Matt declared, offering his hand out to shake. “Courtney and I would love to have you and Cale over for dinner sometime next week, I know she’s looking forward to meeting you as well.”

“That would be great.” You agreed. You knew how close Cale had become with the Calvert’s during those first two playoff series and as much as they were looking forward to meeting you, you were looking forward to meeting them.

“Well, we’ll let you get settled in, Cale explained that you’ve spent most of the last two days in the car, so I’m sure you just want to get unpacked and spend some time with him. We’ll see you at the team cookout tomorrow.” Matt declared and your eyes went wide at the end of his statement. As you looked over at Cale, Matt tugged Tyson out of the apartment, an unintelligible mumble falling from the younger man’s mouth as they went.

“Yeah...uh...didn’t get the chance to mention that yet.” Cale declared rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. “Mel and Gabe are having everyone over tomorrow. Mandatory start of the season thing.”

“We’re diving straight into things aren’t we?” You whispered to yourself, taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry.” Cale murmured. “You don’t have to go if you aren’t feeling up to it, I know everyone would understand.”

“Cale it’s fine.” You insisted. “Just caught me a little off guard. It’ll be nice to meet everyone right away.” Cale eyed you skeptically before moving closer, his hands settling onto your hips.

“If you're sure.” He breathed. “Now can we say a proper hello? I missed you, hopefully the drive wasn’t too bad.”

“It was okay.” You shrugged. “Long.” Trailing your hands up to the back of his neck, you pulled him into a kiss that lingered, your body relaxing immediately under his touch. “How about we let these boxes sit for now and you come take a nap with me?” You suggested, a soft shriek spilling forth as Cale scooped you up and carried you into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

“A nap it is.” He agreed, laying you down before toeing off his shoes and sliding under the covers beside you. The moment his warm hand slid along your bare hip, you felt your eyes fall shut, sleep taking over quickly. The bed may be different, but sleeping beside Cale...that was home.

________

Having spent most of the previous night in bed with Cale, you didn’t have the opportunity to touch the boxes until the following morning. Unpacking led to stressing over what to wear to this cookout and before you knew it Cale was tossing a t-shirt and shorts at you insisting that anything you wore would be perfect.

The driveway at the Landeskog residence was empty when Cale pulled in 45 minutes later and you looked over at him.

“How early are we?” You questioned, knowing smirk on your lips.

“Fifteen...maybe twenty minutes.” Cale replied, sheepishly. Flicking his shoulder, you climbed out of the car.

“My punctual boyfriend.” You declared, following after Cale as he headed up the front path, knocking on the door. It only took a minute for Gabe to answer and when he did he immediately seemed relieved by your early arrival.

“Great timing...I need help with…” You had barely stepped foot in the house before Gabe was pulling Cale away, his voice falling off. Assuming, probably correctly, that you weren’t getting your boyfriend back any time soon, you continued through the house finding Mel in the kitchen.

“So Cale doesn’t know how to not be early, and Gabe already stole him so is there anything I can help with?” You questioned, your hands tucked into your pockets as you waited to draw Mel’s attention.

“Oh my god!” Mel declared, immediately stopping what she was doing. “First...I am so happy you’re here. When Gabe said Cale had asked you to move to Denver I was over the moon.” Rinsing and drying her hands, Mel immediately came to wrap you in a quick hug. “Second...would you mind watching Linnea...she’s starting to get a little restless I think.”

You’d somehow completely missed the playpen in the corner with Linnea in it, the infant attempting to pull herself to her feet as she whined for attention.

“Of course.” You agreed. “Not a problem at all.” Seeing Zoey laying on the floor with a ball beside her, you moved closer to the playpen. “Hey Linnea...why don’t we go outside and throw a ball for Zoey.” Your tone softened as you talked to the baby girl, but not to the extent that it would be considered ‘baby talk’.

With Linnea smiling her mostly toothless grin up at you, you lifted her out of the playpen and onto your hip.

“C’mon Zoey. Let’s go outside.” You declared, smiling back at Mel as she mouthed a grateful ‘thank you’. After sliding through the backdoor, you headed down the porch steps and into the grass, settling yourself down on the ground, Linnea between your thighs. As you helped Linnea throw the ball for Zoey, it was easy to lose yourself in the sound of Zoey’s playful prance and Linnea’s sweet giggle.

*****

Cale grunted softly as he adjusted the cooler in his arms to open the back gate of his captain’s yard. Of course Gabe didn’t do this the easy way...no he had to fill the coolers with ice and drinks before moving them into the backyard. There was definitely a lapse in common sense there.

As the gate swung open, Cale froze in place, his eyes taking in the sight across the yard. He was jolted forward when Gabe bumped into him from behind but not even that could pull his eyes away.

“Dude...what the hell?” Gabe mumbled. “Oh…”

Cale could feel the heat flooding his cheeks as his heart started racing like he’d just skated a dozen laps. Just when he thought Y/N couldn’t possibly become more attractive to him she went and proved him wrong. Because there she was, dressed in the clothes he had picked with the necklace and bracelet he’d given her resting against her skin. Her hands were wrapped around his captain’s daughter’s hips as Linnea giggled loudly, bouncing up and down on her chubby little legs. The way she held the baby, the way she spoke softly to Linnea, the way Linnea reacted to her presence...it made Cale’s throat go dry and stole the breath from his lungs.

It had been four months since they’d talked about kids, four months since he’d really thought about having kids. Cale knew that it was absolutely something he wanted someday and that she was the only person he wanted to have kids with. But now...now ‘someday’ seemed too far away. Now...for the first time he didn’t have to imagine what Y/N would be like as a mom and a part of him was screaming loudly that that was what he wanted...no needed. Now he knew without question that as soon as he put a ring on her finger he was going to also try and put a baby in her belly. His baby. Their baby.

“If you’re going to stand there staring at her...maybe at least move so you aren’t blocking the gate.” Gabe’s chuckle snapped Cale from his daze and his cheeks flushed further as he moved just a step forward, his eyes landing back on his girlfriend as she cradled Linnea against her shoulder, her hand rubbing up and down the baby’s back.

“Should we tell Joe to prep the ELCs for those mini Makars you’re gonna have her popping out soon?” Gabe teased, knowing look on his face. Suddenly, the weight of the cooler and the way his muscles were straining registered again and Cale moved to set it down near the porch steps. When he didn’t react to Gabe’s statement, the captain’s face turned serious. “Wait seriously...you’re actually thinking about it.” Gabe murmured softly.

“Thinking about what?” EJ’s booming voice asked as he and Nate came in through the back gate.

“Calesy here is thinking about knocking his girlfriend up.” Gabe replied, looking over his shoulder to where Y/N had disappeared with Linnea just a moment before. Sounds of disbelief fell from his teammates’ mouths and Cale rubbed at the back of his neck shrugging.

“It’s not like we haven’t talked about it before.” He admitted.

“You’re what...four months in and you’ve talked about kids?” Nate prompted.

“We talked about them the day we got together. It’s not like we were strangers guys.” Cale defended, shoving his hands in his pockets. “So yeah I’m thinking about it. She’s spent most of her life waiting for me...I don’t want to make her wait too long. Maybe we’ll start trying come end of the season.”

“Well look at you growing up.” Gabe declared. “She’s the one isn’t she? You’re way more confident than when we last saw you.”

“She’s absolutely the one.” Cale agreed. “Now what else did you need help with?” No one fought him as Cale changed the subject and headed back toward the garage, making a mental note to get better at masking his expressions when it came to his feelings for Y/N.

*****

You’d laid Linnea down for a nap after she’d fallen asleep on you outside and then had been promptly pulled into a house tour by Mel since you hadn’t seen it before. By the time you made your way back outside with a glass of wine in hand, you found Cale sitting at the table on the patio, a beer in hand as he listened to the guys share stories of their summers.

Sliding your palm down along his chest, you leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Linnea wants you to know you have good taste in jewelry.” You whispered softly, smiling as his head tilted up to look at you, his eyebrows raised. “She liked the way the sun reflected off of my necklace. She fiddled with it until she zonked out.” Cale’s hum of approval and recognition was soft as he scooted back, seamlessly pulling you down onto his lap.

There you stayed, Cale’s chin on your shoulder as more and more of Cale’s teammates and their families arrived. As soon as the Calverts arrived, Cale was immediately summoned by Kasey to play and you watched as your boyfriend chased after the four-year-old. This was the first time you had seen him with kids in quite awhile and it only reaffirmed how great of a dad he would be when he decided he was ready to take that step.

Having finished your glass of wine, you moved to take it inside so that it didn’t get broken. As you reached the kitchen, you saw Mel and one of the other women fawning over something on a cell phone.

“Oh, Y/N, perfect timing.” Mel declared. “There’s something I think you should see.”

You took the phone from her, pressing play on a video. Mel must have snuck outside earlier without you noticing because you watched as Zoey trotted over with a ball before racing off again as Linnea tossed it for her. Hearing yourself praise Linnea for her strong throw was slightly odd but as the camera followed Zoey as she chased the ball your eyes fell to the background. Cale was standing there with a cooler in his hands and even with the focus slightly blurred you could see that his cheeks were flushed and the expression on his face was one that was unfamiliar to you.

Handing the phone back, your mind raced, trying to figure out what Cale had been thinking. There were bits and pieces of emotions you recognized: love, awe, joy; but all together it added up to something unreadable.

“Should we uh...be expecting any more big changes in Cale’s off-ice life soon?” The other woman questioned, an almost knowing look on her face. Your brain finally placed her as Matt’s wife Courtney but it wasn’t quite fast enough to pick up on what she could possibly be referring to.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” You deflected.

“You mean it doesn’t look like he wants to get you pregnant as soon as possible?” Mel chimed in. “Because that’s all I see. Cale saw you with my baby and he gets that look on his face...he wants to make you a mom, no doubt in my mind.” Swallowing hard, you moved to finally set your glass in the sink.

“He’s not ready for kids yet. We’ve talked about it.” You explained. “We’re just focused on us right now. We’ve only been together for a few months.” Thankfully, one of the guys walked into the kitchen allowing you to slip back outside. You’d planned on grabbing a water but after that conversation you definitely needed something a little bit stronger. Flopping down on the steps with a wine cooler in hand, you watched as Cale played spike ball with Tyson, Nate, and Burky. Immediately your conversation back in May came to mind and you thought about how Cale had said he didn’t think he’d be so scared about having a baby if the situation was right. That didn’t mean he wanted kids in the short-term or that he was even ready to start thinking about it. But then again...you hadn’t been able to place the look on his face which was abnormal so maybe there was a grain of truth to Mel and Courtney’s presumptions.

“You look puzzled...everything okay?” Cale’s smooth voice pulled you out of the rabbit hole you’d found yourself in and you looked up at him amazed at how one look settled all of the uneasiness inside you. Cale would let you know whether he wanted kids when he was ready, there was no need to dwell or worry about it now. Kissing him gently, you nodded, letting him pull you up onto your feet.

“Everything is good.” You assured him. “Just needed a minute.” With Cale’s hand rubbing against your lower back you let him convince you to go get your asses kicked by Sam Girard and his girlfriend at cornhole. It was fun, especially when you made Sam throw backward because he was just too good otherwise.

By the time you finished your best of three series, the food was ready and you made up a plate, settling in beside Cale on the steps as you ate. After dinner the two of you bowed out because your eyes had started to droop from fatigue. Though the guys chirped him, Cale kept his focus on you until you had slipped into the passenger seat of the car.

Adjusting to life in Denver was going to take some time for sure. But you were confident it would be worth it because Cale was definitely worth it.

Welcome Home Gifts:

Cookout Outfit:

#cale makar #cale makar imagine #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #cavalanche #039

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missscarletta7 · 3 years

Text

The Broken Crown- Chapter 1

Hello! So this is my first Peaky Blinders Fanfiction. I own nothing, except for the few OCs I created.

This story is also on Wattpad and FF.net under the same title if you want to read it there as well--- however be warned it is not as edited as this post and I changed the name of one of the characters because I thought it was a better fit... lol!

Summary: All Margaret Shelby ever wanted, was the opportunity to write her own story. Only now is she beginning to realize that her brother may have already written it for her...

Enjoy!

OoOoOo

"He's a ghost, he's a god, He's a man, He's a guru,

You're one microscopic cog, In his catastrophic plan

Designed and directed by his red right hand"

~Red Right Hand~

1919

She had that dream again, the one where she had to decide which door she would open. Both doors were identical in every way. Yet, she just stands in the empty room lit as if by candles; frozen in place; The weight of the decision ultimately waking her out of-

No, that wouldn't do, a dark-haired girl thought as she scratched out the words she had just written down. In a small bedroom on the second floor of number Seventeen Watery Lane, sixteen-year-old Margaret Shelby sat on her bed, or rather the bed she shared with her older sister. Dressed in the long white nightgown that had once belonged to her mother and with a pen in hand, she scribbled down more words in her brown leather-bound journal resting on her lap. The journal was gifted to her by her Aunt Polly on her most previous birthday. Upon receiving it she couldn't wait to fill its pages. She liked writing, ever since she learned how to form her words into a cohesive sentence on paper. It had been an outlet, a distraction from the "shit-hole" that was Small Heath, Birmingham.

As a child, she had the fondest memories of taking the drawings her eldest brother Arthur would sketch and would accompany his rendering with an original story. She took pride in how much he would always be so impressed and relished when he called her “his little genius". As the years passed, she believed if she could write and publish a story that was good enough, then maybe one day she could provide for her family. Give them a way out of their current situation. Not that she knew much of how dire their situation really was. To their credit, her family tried their best to shield her, as well as her youngest brother Finn, from feeling the effects of living a life in the slums. She was lucky in that way, most of the girls her age had dropped out of school and had a child of their own already.

Her thoughts of prose were soon interrupted by familiar sounds causing the pit of her stomach to sink. Even after three months of him being back, she doubted she would ever get used to it. Opposite from her bed, through the thin wall with floral green wallpaper which had been peeling off for years, muffled cries could be heard. Maggie knew exactly who it was, her brother, Tommy.

She placed her journal onto the thin cotton sheets and traveled into the hallway. Before she knew it, she was standing outside the door of her older sibling. Taking a deep breath, she decided against knocking and slowly opened the door.

"Tommy?" she whispered into his candlelit room. She could see he was awake. Lying flat on his back in bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Go back to bed, Mags," the second oldest Shelby ordered, but the girl hesitated.

"I thought I heard yelling," she sounded apologetic, before taking a whiff of the air. "Do you smell that?"

"I said back to your bloody bed," his harsh tone surprised her.

This time she did listen, gently she closed her brother's door and made her way back to the empty bedroom she once was in.

OoOoOo

The next day, Margaret exited the small school she attended that was located right on the edge of Small Heath with her best friend Cara Ryan by her side. The girls had played together for as long as their memories had served them. Cara was a stylish and talkative girl who stood at a height of five feet and six inches. Dazzling green eyes sparkled and her straight honey blonde hair fell upon her shoulders. Her family did better than most, the Ryan's own a dress shop that is very popular amongst the younger women, Ada, in fact, is a frequent customer of the establishment. Though the word 'customer' was a loose term, the Ryan's like most shop owners in the area were obliged to give anyone with relations to the Peaky Blinders whatever they wanted. Mrs. Ryan's and the two oldest sisters operated it, and in her spare time, Cara could often be found working in the backroom, sewing buttons and beads to fabrics. The family had a deal, in a year's time Cara would come to work for the shop full time, but until then Cara could continue her education.

"Can't believe Henrietta's having a baby," Maggie said aloud, as shorter and younger students ran past them excitedly.

"I can," Cara replied smugly. "That girl would open her legs up for any sod that gave her a second glance."

"I feel bad for her." She admitted thinking of the fifteen-year-old whose life was now forever changed.

Cara shook her head, "Don't it's her own bloody fault."

After rounding the corner, they both saw Ross Murray. A thin nineteen-year-old with dark hair standing at five feet and eleven inches, resting his back against the dull red brick wall, smoking a cigarette. Cara stopped them in their tracks and waved at the young man. "All right, Ross?!"

Maggie smiled at her friend, she liked Ross, he'd always looked out for her and Cara like they were his own sisters. They had all been in school together up until the moment Ross was kicked out for beating up another boy named Jonah Smith. In all likelihood Jonah may have had it coming. He never had the ability to let go. For example, just last year Maggie would have to constantly have to turn down his advances for over a month. Due to the reputation of her family, attention from boys was a rare occurrence. Which she didn't mind, she never really felt romantic feelings for anyone. However, Jonah took advantage of her brothers absence. One day he even cornered her when she went back to the classroom to grab the jumper she left behind. Thankfully Jonah eventually stopped, and never bothered her again.

Getting kicked out of school didn't seem to bother Ross though. Once he turned eighteen, he enlisted to help with the war effort. He completed basic training within the required three months, and according to the letters he would send her and Cara, he was held in high esteem with all of his commanding officers. Just as he was about to be shipped to France, an armistice was declared. He'd managed to find a job working at the BSA factory rather quickly, but when he came back into town Maggie could tell he had changed. He now had this mentality that made him seem as though he was ready for a battle, yet had no one to fight.

"Cara, Margaret," he acknowledged, stubbing out his cigarette on the bricks he had rested his back upon "Where are you two heading, aye?"

"Just going home," Maggie told him, readjusting the bag on her shoulder.

He came closer to them, "I'll walk with you. Birmingham hasn't been the safest place now that all these blokes with fucked up brains are back."

"Look at that Mags," Cara said happily, and he allowed her to take his arm. "The only gentleman in Small Heath"

Maggie smiled knowingly at the sight. Since Cara was ten years old, she had been smitten with the dark-haired boy. Cara would frequently turn down other offers in hopes that Ross would one day ask her to be his girl. They both hoped that it would happen soon, because in Cara's words "She wasn't getting any younger".

"Don't know what you two keep going to school for," He expressed to them, as they began to walk in the direction the girls needed to travel. "What more is there to learn?"

His comment made Maggie shrug, "It's something to do."

"Yeah, most girls our age who aren't in school are either whores or mothers." She agreed. "Or both."

They continued chatting about their school day as they walked closer into town. The canal that ran nearby as well as the different establishments were coming into view. "Mags, is that your brother?" Ross asked, pointing to a couple of boys.

Maggie turned her head to where her friend was pointing. He was right, her younger brother Finn, was running around in front of the pharmacy with Isaiah Jesus. He must have skipped school again. "Oi!" Maggie called out angrily, and Finn froze in place "What have you been up to all day, hm?"

"Please don't tell Tommy," the ten-year-old begged.

Maggie was about to tell him off, but she was caught off guard by the arrival of a person exiting Compton's, "Ada?"

"Oh, hello." The dark-haired beauty clutched the paper parcel tighter in her hands, clearly caught off guard by the sudden appearance of her younger siblings. "Heading home then?"

Maggie nodded and Ada continued, "I'll join you." The older sister then turned to her brother "Right Finn?" The boy scowled, but nodded all the same.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Maggie told her friends, still trying to process what her sister was up to.

Cara didn't seem to mind her best friends' announcement to depart. Turning to the hazel-eyed boy she asked, "Fancy accompanying me to the confectionery?"

He looked over to the Shelby family first, "Will you three be alright by yourself?"

Ada looked amused at his worry, "We'll be fine. I doubt anyone would mess with us." He accepted her answer with a nod and led Cara to the candy shop.

As the water rushed in the cut, Ada and Maggie walked down the sidewalk arm in arm. Finn wasn't too far in front of them. He was running and jumping around like a madman. That boy always had so much energy, Maggie found herself thinking. No wonder he skipped school, the poor thing probably could not sit still.

"That Murray boy has aged well hasn't he," Ada commented, finally breaking the silence, "Have you two?"

"Ada!" The younger sister cried out in surprise.

"Just asking." She shrugged, "Jesus you're a prude"

"Everyone's a prude compared to you" she retorted, "What were you doing at the pharmacy?"

Ada didn't reply though, instead opting to purse her lips. They were almost home now; Maggie could even see Pol heading to the house, traveling towards them. She was about to wave at her aunt until she was distracted by Finn, who ran around in front of his sisters. Her heart clenched when she noticed a black metal object in his hand.

"Finn, where did you get that gun?" she questioned, yet the youngest Shelby only giggled in response.

"Oi! Quit messing around," Ada scolded, moving forward in an attempt to take the weapon away. "You shouldn't b-"

BANG! The sisters screamed and Aunt Polly, who had witnessed the whole event transpire, rushed over from down the street. Both the girls tried to catch their breath and a shocked Finn looked like he was trying to mentally process what had just happened.

"The hell were you thinking?!" Polly scolded, snatching the gun from his hand. "Where did you get this?!

"He nearly fucking killed me!" Ada screeched pointing to her brother.

"I-I found it on the sideboard of the shop." Finn spit out as they watched his face concave and he soon began weeping in fear. "I-I thought it was empty. I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

His tears pulled on Maggie's heartstrings, but Polly wasn't having it. She pushed the sobbing boy towards Maggie ordering, "Take him home, and no more playing with guns. Next time you leave them be."

The young boy nodded and allowed his sister to lead him back home."I didn't know Mags, I swear" he cried out again.

"I know you. You can apologize to Ada once she's feeling more forgiving" she expressed, her arms wrapped around his small shoulders.

OoOoOo

Childhood had molded her into the person she had become. Now she understood that...

Maggie internally groaned and scratched out what she had just written. No, that was definitely not good enough. She was pulled out of her thoughts when she heard a chuckle. Her eyes were taken off the page by Ada, who was getting ready for her date with some mystery man.

"What's so funny?" the younger sister grumbled.

"You," Ada smiled as she brushed her hair in front of the small vanity mirror, "And how seriously you take yourself."

Quickly she closed her journal, wanting to change the subject "So, what was the family meeting about?" Maggie asked, not genuinely curious.

"New copper’s coming to town," Ada replied unbothered, more interested in fastening her shoe buckle.

"When I went downstairs, I caught Finn trying to listen through the door. Told him off for eavesdropping," the younger sister snickered .

"Can you believe that little tosser?" Ada said, putting on her paste earring. "I don't know what's gotten into him lately. He could have killed me today!"

"It was an accident, Ada." She reasoned, opening her journal once more, "Pol already told him and John off, what more can you do?"

"I can still bitch," the older sister huffed, before looking at the book in her sisters' hands. "Are you ever gonna tell me what you're writing about?" Ada asked pointedly, now completely dressed in a white fur coat that rested over her dress.

"Are you ever gonna tell me who you've been going out to see the last few months?" Maggie shot back jokingly.

Ada responded by pantomiming the locking of her lips, which only made the younger sister smile. "Cover for me?"

"As always," The girl assured Ada before she quietly opened and closed the bedroom door.

It was about an hour later when Maggie began to hear the familiar muffled cries. Feeling hopeless as she stared at the green papered wall.

OoOoOo

The following day was mostly uneventful for Margaret. She'd gone to school and heard all about Cara's "date" with Ross. According to Cara, he was a complete "gentleman", much to the blonde's disappointment, though she still clung onto hope.

Now she stood in the kitchen with her Aunt and sister making dinner, continuously kneading some dough until her skinny arms began to burn. Hopefully, this batch of bread would last long enough for her to enjoy. Last time she made bread her siblings had eaten it all, not saving any for her. Upon hearing the door slam, she and her aunt stopped to glance over to the door.

"Holy Shit!" The girl exclaimed, witnessing her eldest brother who was bloody and beaten, being assisted by John into a wooden chair.

"Finn, go find Tommy and tell him what happened," Polly commanded. Like a shot, Finn was running out of the room, but not before Pol hurriedly added, "And tell him we need a shit ton of more alcohol!"

Polly then immediately began to gather gauze and rods of wood to make a splint, "Margaret, start heating up water, then cut this cloth up in stripes." Nodding at the directive, the girl began to do just that.

"The fuck happened?" Ada interrogated, arms crossing in front of her chest.

"Was told some of the men found him like this outside the cinema," John explained.

"Do you know who?" Maggie heard her sister continue as she put the kettle over the flame, but Arthur remained silent.

"I'd like to know as well," An aggravated Polly chimed in.

This time Arthur did speak. “That Belfast copper,” the mustached man spit out, "I'll discuss it more once Tom gets here."

They all fell into silence, the only noise coming from Maggie who pulled out a chair to sit next to her brother, and quietly began cutting the cloth Polly left for her on the table. "Do you think this is enough?" Maggie asked her aunt after she finished.

"Should be plenty, love," Pol told her, taking one of the strips to start mending his hand.

"John, wipe the blood out of his eye," Ada told the third eldest sibling who was just watching the ladies scrabble around as they tended to Arthur.

"Since when did you give orders?" John asked incredulously.

"I'm a trained nurse." The sister stated.

Though seeing as John wasn't budging Maggie rose from her seat and began to wipe the blood herself.

"Don't make me laugh. It hurts my face," Arthur joked as Polly bandaged him up. "You're a nurse like Mags here is a writer."

His comment caused more annoyance than Maggie cared to admit. With her index finger, she pressed onto a forming bruise on his cheek with great pressure, instigating a string of curses to come out of the eldest man's mouth.

"Oops," Maggie said insincerely. This caused Arthur to look to his aunt, wondering if any reprimanding would be given to the girl, but Polly just gave her brother a 'like you weren't asking for it' look.

"I bloody am!" The older Shelby girl whined to John.

"You went to one first aid class in the church hall and got thrown out for giggling," John corrected her.

"Not before I learnt how to stop somebody from choking," she shot back.

"I'm not bloody choking, am I?" Arthur spoke gruffly.

"You will be when I wrap this cloth around your neck." She told him as she poured hot water from the kettle into the bowl.

"Let me see him." Tommy's voice was heard as he entered the kitchen. "Well, have this" Tommy passed the bottle of rum and Arthur took a swig. Grabbing a rag, he immediately got to work tending to his brother's face.

"He said Mr. Churchill sent him to Birmingham. 'National interest', he said. Something about a robbery." Arthur explained. "He said he wants us to help him"

"We don't help coppers," John said immediately, disgusted at the thought.

"He knew all about our war records. He said we're patriots like him. He wants us to be his eyes and ears. I said -" He paused a moment before continuing, "I said we'd have a family meeting and take a vote".

Everyone remained silent, and frankly, that was enough of an answer to the eldest. "Why not? We have no truck with Fenians or communist," Arthur said exasperated, before heatedly asking Tommy. "What's wrong with you?"

Tommy continued to stare back at him, before asking his aunt, "What the fuck is wrong with him lately?"

"If I knew I'd buy the cure from Compton's Chemist," Polly answered, staring at Tom who stared right back.

OoOoOo

Being alone at night was something Maggie had gotten used to now. The cries next door, however, that was something entirely different. Sighing to herself, she decided to give it another go. Once again, she rose from her bed, and ventured into the hallway. This time though she brought her journal with her. Not long she stood in front of her brother's door, allowing herself to open it.

Again, in the candlelit room, she saw him lying in his bed staring at the ceiling, though she couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not. "Still awake?" she asked.

"Can't seem to fall asleep," Tommy mumbled calmly. She took his stillness as permission to enter.

"Do you remember when I was a little girl and you used to read me books to make me fall asleep?" she asked, moving closer to the bed, "I used to love those voices you'd do for all the different characters from the picture books."

He nodded and he couldn't help the ghost of a smile while thinking of the memory. Unlike his other siblings, Maggie was the only one who would beg him to read to her. It was something they bonded over.

"If you want," she continued, motioning her hand to hold the journal up. "I can read you my story." Tommy was silent as he looked at the journal for a moment, before Maggie added, "I just thought maybe I could try to help you sleep like you did for me."

"Only if you do voices" he stressed jokingly, then shifted his body to make room for her on the small mattress.

"Remember," she squished next to him leaning her back against his bed frame. "This is a work in progress."

"I won't judge you too harshly" he replied, watching her open the journal that lay on her lap.

"Long ago when she was young, she believed that what she saw in her dreams could be a vision of what was to come. It was only now she understood that it was just an amalgamation of-"

"A what?" He interrupted.

"An amalgamation" she repeated. "Do you not know what an amalgamation means?"

"No, I do. Didn't think you did."

"Shut up. You're supposed to allow my words to lull you to sleep."

"Sorry, please continue"

"It was only now she understood that it was just an amalgamation of all her childhood aspirations, fears, and perhaps a little too much whiskey. With this knowledge she found herself yearning for-"

By this point, Tommy had closed his eyes and was half-listening to the words his sister read from her journal. It wasn't half bad what she wrote. He reckoned by the time she was his age she'd actually make something of herself all with those stories in her head. Perhaps make a career out of it, possibly even get out of Small Heath. It was to be the start of a new decade, a new time, who knows what would happen? When he finally made it back from France, her face was the first face that caught his attention on the station platform. It shocked him. No more was the little girl he would read stories to, but in her place stood a smiling young woman. She had changed so much during the time he was gone.

Come to think of it, they'd all changed. Arthur was head of the family, in charge of the business, and had done a decent job of it. But that was before France, he was different now. He quickly noticed the change in his brother and how he couldn't think straight anymore. Arthur's personality became more explosive, as well as violent. John, well he had become more reckless, especially after a few drinks got into him, and since Martha's passing the drinking had only increased.

As for him, well he was the one who had changed the most. He used to be carefree, joke and laugh, but now he was more solemn and even more protective of his family. Constantly worrying about how Arthur couldn't handle the business anymore, how John couldn't be alone anymore, and him? Well, he couldn't stand to see his family scrape and scrounge in the slums of Small Heath in order to survive any longer. No, not anymore. New copper sniffing about or not. No matter what Polly said, Tommy saw an opportunity with these guns. He wasn't about to turn it down. He just had to play it smart. As Maggie continued her reading, Tommy could feel himself slowly begin to drift out of consciousness and into a dreamless sleep.

#peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby #shelbysister #alfie solomons #oc #peakyblinders #arthur shelby #john shelby #polly shelby #adashelby #gangster #1920

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bechloeislegit · 3 years

Text

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl - Chapter 2

"Yes, I do," the guy said. "You're Beca Mitchell. I've seen your picture in magazines and on TMZ. And I hear your songs on the radio all the time."

"This is Jesse Swanson," Jessica said by way of introduction. "And that guy over there is Bumper Allen." Bumper gave a small wave and Jessica leaned toward Stacie and whispered conspiratorially, "He's married to Fat Amy. You'll meet her later, I'm sure."

"I'm not married," Jesse said with a boyish grin as he reached out to shake their hands. "In case you were wondering."

"I wasn't," Beca said, ignoring Jesse's outstretched hand.

"Be nice, Beca," Stacie whispered as she reached out to shake Jesse's hand. "I'm Stacie Conrad, Beca's manager."

"It's a pleasure meeting you both," Jesse said.

"Hey, Bummppperrrr!" a voice called out, causing everyone to look in the direction of the woman who yelled.

"Get over here, you sexy beast," Bumper said, ogling the woman.

The woman stopped next to Bumper. She looked first at Beca and then moved her gaze over to Stacie.

"I know the short stack is Beca Mitchell, but who's the tall stack next to her?"

Beca scoffed and Stacie laughed.

"I'm Stacie Conrad," Stacie said. "Beca's manager."

"Ladies, this is my wife, Fat Amy," Bumper said, pulling Amy into his side. "The best woman in all of Colorado."

"He calls his wife Fat Amy?" Stacie whispered to Beca.

Jessica heard her and leaned in to whisper, "She calls herself that so skinny bitches don't say it behind her back."

Beca and Stacie looked at each other and chuckled. Suddenly, Chloe squealed and ran over to a blonde woman coming toward them.

"Wow!" Stacie exclaimed under her breath. "Who is that?"

Jessica and Beca both turned to look. "That's Aubrey, our cook."

Chloe grabbed Aubrey and pulled her into a hug.

"Oh, my God, Brey!" Chloe said, her voice carrying in her excitement. "Beca Mitchell is actually here!"

Beca couldn't help the smile that came to her face.

"I can see that," Aubrey said.

"I mean, it's really her! I can't believe she's standing right there."

Aubrey just smiled at Chloe as they walked over to the small group.

"Hello, everyone," Aubrey said.

"Well, hello," Stacie said, looking Aubrey up and down.

"Down, girl," Beca murmured so only Stacie could hear her.

"Beca Mitchell, Stacie Conrad," Jessica said. "This is Aubrey Posen, the cook who is responsible for the spread we have tonight. And all the food you'll be enjoying during your stay with us."

Chloe grinned as she leaned in and told Aubrey, "I'm giving THE Beca Mitchell riding lessons tomorrow."

"Chloe," Aubrey said. "What did I tell you about fangirling?"

"That's okay," Beca said, smiling. "I'm always happy to meet a fan."

Chloe smiled and looked at Beca.

"See?" Chloe said. "Beca doesn't mind if I'm a little enthusiastic when it comes to seeing her in person."

"Enthusiastic?" Beca snorted. "Now you remind me of someone I used to know."

"I do?" Chloe asked. "It's funny because you always reminded me of someone I used to know, too. I read you were from Seattle; do you have family in Atlanta?"

"I did," Beca said. "May I ask who I remind you of?"

"My best friend from when I was a kid," Chloe said.

"That's funny because you remind me of my best friend from when I was a kid."

"I do?" Chloe said.

"Yes, you do," Beca said, smiling. "May I ask if your friend's name is Rebeca Cooke?"

"How do you know. . ." Chloe started to say and stopped to stare at Beca.

Beca stood there as Chloe studied her face, and looked her up and down. Beca smiled, and Chloe's gaze traveled back up to stare into Beca's eyes.

"Are you? No-oo, you can't be. I mean, I know it's been about sixteen years, but I always thought I'd recognize her if I ever saw her again."

No one said anything; they just watched to see what Chloe or Beca was going to do next.

Chloe seemed to be at a loss for words as she continued to examine Beca's face. "Your eyes look . . .are you Rebeca Cooke?"

"Yes, I am," Beca said, smiling and nodding her head.

"But, your last name is Mitchell," Chloe said, frowning. "I never read anything that said you were, but are you married?"

"No," Beca said, laughing. "I legally changed my name when I turned thirteen. But, I swear, I was born Rebeca Cooke and I'm still the same girl who was your best friend when we were nine. If you don't believe me, I can show you pictures of me with you."

"Oh, my God!" Chloe squealed and pulled Beca into a hug. "I can't believe this. I always wondered what happened to you."

Beca pulled back from the hug only to have Chloe smack her on the arm.

"Ow!" Beca yelped and rubbed her arm.

"What the hell, Rebeca," Chloe exclaimed. "I'm sorry, I mean, Beca. You promised I'd see you again in three months, not sixteen years later. What the hell?"

"Calm down," Beca said, still rubbing her arm. "I can explain everything, I promise."

"I don't know if I believe you," Chloe said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You broke the last promise you made to me."

"It wasn't my fault," Beca said. "I really wanted to come back to Atlanta, but my grandma died, and. . ."

"Your grandmother died?" Chloe said as tears came to her eyes.

"Please don't cry," Beca said, as she pulled Chloe into a hug and rubbed a hand over her back.

"Chloe's a very emotional person," Aubrey said.

"I know," Beca said, pulling back from Chloe. "I always hated it when she cried."

"That's true," Chloe said, wiping her eyes. "She did. And she was always the first to try and comfort me."

"You remember that?" Beca asked.

"Hey, Aubrey," Jesse called out.

Aubrey looked up to see Jesse waving her over to the grill.

"Would you all excuse me?" Aubrey said. "Duty calls."

"Looks like it's almost time to eat," Jessica said. "I'm going to go pull Chicago away from his office. If I wait for him to come out, we'll never see him."

Jessica left Stacie, Beca, and Chloe standing together.

"Beca, do you want to sit together at dinner so we can talk and you can tell me why I haven't seen or heard from you until now?" Chloe asked.

"I'd love to," Beca said. "I do want to tell you everything. And I want to hear everything you've been doing for the past sixteen years as well."

~~ Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl ~~

"Chloe, can you come and help me?" Aubrey called out.

"Excuse me," Chloe said. "I'll be right back."

Chloe walked over to Aubrey; Beca watched as they started arranging things on a table.

"I'm surprised you didn't tell Chloe that you knew her earlier," Stacie said she and Beca were alone.

"I was going to, but I didn't want to scare her off," Beca said. "That's the real reason I asked to speak with her in my cabin. But, when she was standing in front of me one-on-one, I chickened out and asked about riding lessons instead."

"I thought you weren't going to get on one of those beasts," Stacie said.

"I wasn't," Beca said. "And I may not, but Chloe made it sound so appealing I couldn't help myself."

"Oh, my God!" Stacie exclaimed. "It just hit me, she is the girl you were talking about when you told me about when you knew you were gay." Beca slowly nodded her head and Stacie added, "I can see it. If I wasn't already into girls, too, she could easily change my mind."

"I know it's weird," Beca said. "But I swear I was sort of in love with her before I even understood what being gay or in love really meant. And seeing her now makes me feel all sorts of things I probably shouldn't be feeling."

"You should tell her," Stacie said.

"I don't know," Beca said. "She may not appreciate knowing she's the reason I realized I was gay."

"I think Chloe's a little bit gay herself and will take it well," Stacie said, grabbing Beca's arm and leading her towards the food tables. "Looks like dinner's ready. I'm starving; let's go fix a plate."

~~ Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl ~~

Stacie and Beca took their plates over to a table already occupied by Jessica, Chicago, and Tom.

"Mind if we sit with you guys?" Beca asked. "Or is it frowned upon for guests to sit with the staff?"

"No rules against it," Jessica said. "We actually encourage everyone to mingle. Please have a seat."

"Thank you," Stacie said and sat next to Tom; Beca took the seat on Stacie's left.

After a moment, they were joined by Chloe, Aubrey, and Jesse. Jesse pushed past Chloe, and much to Chloe's chagrin sat on the end next to Beca.

"Do you mind if we switch?" Beca asked Jesse. "It's just that I'm left-handed and don't want to keep bumping arms while we eat."

"Sure, no problem," Jesse said, standing to allow Beca to move to the end.

"Thanks," Beca said.

Chloe sat down at the table so she was across from Beca. She frowned slightly when Jesse started talking to Beca and was monopolizing her attention. She had really hoped she'd be able to talk to Beca and catch up while they ate.

"So, Chloe," Stacie said, looking at her. "Can you tell me any stories about Beca from when you two were younger?"

This caused Beca to look wide-eyed at Stacie and then at Chloe, shaking her head.

"No," Beca said, using her eyes to implore Chloe to keep quiet. "No stories from when Beca was younger."

"Why not?" Chloe questioned. "I have a few I think Stacie would love to hear."

"No," Beca said. "I was way too shy and awkward back then."

"Back then?" Stacie repeated, laughing at the look on Beca's face.

The others at the table laughed as well.

"I need a drink," Beca said, standing suddenly.

"You'd better not have smuggled anything in," Stacie said. "If you did, you know what that means for you."

"God, Stacie!" Beca admonished. "It's bad enough the tabloids are always riding my ass, I don't need you riding it, too."

Everyone stopped talking and stared at Beca. She took a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair.

"I'm sorry," Beca said, looking around the table at everyone staring at her. "It's been a rough few months and I'd like to forget about most of it."

"I don't think you have anything to apologize for," Tom said. "It can't be easy having everyone all up in your business all the time."

"It isn't," Beca said, looking around the table once more. "I'm going to get some water."

"That's okay, Beca," Jessica said, standing. "You're a guest. I'll get it."

"Please sit back down, Jessica," Beca said. "I'm more than capable of getting myself some water. And, since I'm up, who else wants a drink?"

"Thank you, Beca," Jessica said, taking her seat. "I'd like water, please."

"I'd like some iced tea," Chloe said, smiling at Beca. "If you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all," Beca said, smiling at Chloe. "Anyone else?"

"A Coke for me, please," Tom said.

"I would like a Diet Coke if they have it," Stacie said.

"You can get your own," Beca shot back at Stacie. "And, yes, I am that petty."

With that, Beca flipped her hair over her shoulder and flounced off. Several of the group chuckled and looked at Stacie.

"Meh," Stacie said with a flip of her hand. "She loves me."

Chloe watched Beca walk away, biting her lip. Stacie caught her looking and smiled.

"See something you like, Chloe?" Stacie whispered across the table.

"Hmm?" Chloe said, turning to look at Stacie. "What?"

"She asked if you saw something you liked," Aubrey said, laughing from her seat next to Chloe.

"I'm not the only one who was looking at her," Chloe said, glaring at Jesse.

Jesse's head shot around as he said, "I, uh, wasn't looking at Beca. I was checking to see if, um, Bumper needed my help at the grill."

"Sure, you were," Chicago said, causing everyone to laugh as Jesse's cheeks became red.

"I was," Jesse said adamantly. He looked over at Beca and stood up. "I'm going to see if she needs any help."

"I'll go, too," Chloe said, jumping up to follow Jesse.

"Looks like Chloe and Jesse are both interested in Beca," Tom said, watching Chloe and Jesse made their way to Beca.

He chuckled when Chloe hurried past Jesse, causing Jesse to stumble and fall.

"My money is on Chloe in that fight," Jessica said.

"I don't know," Chicago said. "Jesse's got some game and can be rather charming when he wants to be."

"It won't matter how much game he has," Stacie said, chuckling. "He has one thing that Chloe doesn't have, and that's the one thing Beca's not interested in."

"What's that?" Tom asked, looking at Stacie.

"You really don't know?" Stacie asked, surprised.

"Beca's gay, Tom," Aubrey said. "It's kind of a well-known fact in the music industry."

"Oh," Tom and Chicago said.

"I don't really follow Beca's music," Tom said. "I'm more of a country music fan."

Beca heard a sound and turned to see Jesse on the ground; Chloe joined her.

"Are you okay?" Beca asked, looking down at Jesse.

"I'm fine," Jesse said, picking himself up and brushing the grass off his jeans.

"We came to see if you needed any help," Chloe said, and leaned in to whisper, "He's just clumsy."

Jesse glared at Chloe when Beca turned her back to him to look at Chloe.

"Thank you, I'd appreciate some help," Beca said, reaching into a cooler to pull out a Diet Coke.

Jesse looked at her with a raised brow. "I thought you told Stacie she could get her own."

"I did," Beca said, shrugging. "And she knows I'll bring her one anyway. I give her a hard time, but at the end of the day, she is still one of my best friends and we'd do anything for each other."

Beca handed Jesse the Diet Coke and Coke; she then gave Chloe a bottle of water. Beca carried the iced tea and second bottle of water to the table.

Jesse handed Stacie and Tom their drinks while Chloe handed the bottle she was carrying to Jessica.

"Thank you," each said as they took their drinks.

"You're welcome, Jessica," Chloe said as she sat down.

Beca set her water at her seat and walked around the table to Chloe. She leaned slightly over Chloe's shoulder and set down the iced tea.

"I believe this is yours," Beca said softly in Chloe's ear.

"Thank you, Beca," Chloe said, smirking at a glaring Jesse.

~~ Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl ~~

Later, everyone was done eating, and the ranch staff had left to help put the leftover food away and break down the tables. Stacie excused herself to make a call, leaving Beca and Chloe alone at the table.

Jesse was helping Bumper clean up the grill; he kept looking over at Beca, smiling when he saw her glance over at him.

"So, let me see if I understand this," Beca said to Chloe. "You were sixteen when your parents were killed? Then you came here to live with your uncle, who is your mother's brother and Chicago's father? And your uncle agreed to pay for you to go to college and veterinary school, with the condition that you'd work for him on the ranch to help pay for it?"

"That's right," Chloe said. "My folks' life insurance policy barely covered their funerals, so it was the only way I would be able to go to college. My first job was giving riding lessons to the guests and helping out wherever there was a need. Then I moved up to being the vet tech while I went to vet school."

"Wow," Beca said. "Beauty and brains. Will you remain here or find something else, once you're finished school?"

"I already graduated," Chloe said. "And I promised Uncle Denny that I'd give him one year of my time as a vet after I graduated. My year is up this month. Chicago and Uncle Denny have both tried to persuade me to stay. But, I got an offer for my dream job, and will be leaving here soon."

"What's your dream job?" Beca asked.

Chloe opened her mouth to respond, but Jesse interrupted before she had a chance.

"Hey, Beca, I was wondering if you'd like to take a walk with me?"

"I'm sorry, Jesse," Beca said. "Chloe and I are talking. Maybe some other time."

"I'll hold you to that," Jesse said, throwing a smirk at Chloe. "I'll leave you two to continue your conversation."

Jesse put his arm around Beca's shoulder, pulling her to him in an awkward side hug.

"Dude, no," Beca huffed, shrugging him off. "It's not going to be like that."

"Why not?" Jesse whined. "I'm a good guy. Just give me a chance."

"Jesse, she's gay," Chloe said, causing Jesse's face to fall.

"No, she isn't," Jesse said, looking down at Beca. "Are you?"

"Yeah, I am," Beca said. "Sorry, dude, but you and I are not going to happen."

"See? Told you," Chloe said. "Now, if you don't mind, we were in the middle of something."

"Sorry," Jesse mumbled and walked off.

"How does he not know?" Beca asked, truly perplexed. "I mean, it's not like I hide it."

"I don't know," Chloe said with a sigh. "Don't be too hard on him. Jesse's actually a pretty good guy, but living out here on the ranch, everyone is busy all the time, so they don't get a chance to be up to date on all the entertainment-type news."

"Now I kind of feel bad about rejecting him," Beca said. She sat for a moment, staring down at the table. She looked up at Chloe. "How do you know so much about me?"

"I first heard you sing when I was in college. I loved your voice and your music so I started following you on all the social media sites. I love how you personally interact with your fans."

"Oh, okay," Beca said. "So, I guess you know about my dad?"

"Honestly, I really haven't heard a lot about him," Chloe said. "But, I do remember him from Atlanta. We were all surprised when we saw Sheila had moved into your old house with him."

"He promised he was going to come to Seattle to be with me and my mom," Beca said sadly. "He never even visited or called me. He found me about six months ago and I thought he wanted to make amends for ignoring me, but all he wanted was money."

There was a momentary silence between them. Chloe watched Beca and saw that she looked sad.

"So, I'm moving to LA," Chloe said, excitedly. "It's been my dream to be a vet to the stars ever since I decided I wanted to be a vet."

"Seriously?" Beca asked, her mood brightening.

"Yep," Chloe said.

"That is so cool," Beca said. "Maybe we can hang out and I can show you the sights and all the best places to eat. And if you need to find a place to live, I can hook you up with my realtor. He'll do right by you, I promise."

"That's really sweet of you to offer, Beca," Chloe said. "I may take you up on that."

"Better yet," Beca said. "If you need a place to stay while you look for something, I have plenty of room. You're welcome to stay with me for as long as it takes."

"That plan sounds more fun," Chloe said, smiling at Beca. "I've been looking online for a place, but so far I haven't had any luck. Either everything is way too expensive or too far away from the vet clinic. If I can stay with you, I can look at places in person to find one that will be close to work and that I can afford. I may need to stay a few weeks while I look; are you okay with that?"

"A few weeks, a few months, I don't care," Beca said. "You can stay for as long as you want."

Chloe squealed and moved around to hug Beca. "Thank you so much. When do you plan to head back to LA? I was planning on leaving next week, but I can change that and leave when you do."

"Well, I'm kind of stuck here for three weeks," Beca said. "So, if you want to wait to leave when we do, you can fly back with us on our jet."

"That sounds so cool," Chloe said. "And I'm all for extra time to be around my family. I'm going to miss them so much."

"Then, consider it done," Beca said. "We'll talk more later to work everything out, okay?"

"Okay," Chloe said, smiling. "Now, I'd say it was your turn to tell me what you've been doing for the past sixteen years, but I kind of already know. At least for the last six years anyway. I did have one question if you don't mind me asking."

"Ask me and if I don't want to answer, I'll let you know," Beca said. "Okay?"

"Fair enough," Chloe said. "When and why did you change your name?"

Beca chuckled and shifted in her seat.

"First, you know I never liked the name Rebeca," Beca said. "When I left Atlanta I started telling people my name was Beca because I liked that better than Rebeca. Then after my folks divorced, my mom went back to her maiden name. I was only twelve but decided that since my dad wasn't a part of my life anymore I wanted to change my last name to Mitchell as well. I always felt like I had been more of a Mitchell than a Cooke anyway. My mom wanted me to be sure so she made me wait a year until I was thirteen before she'd agree to let me become Beca Mitchell. So I completed all the paperwork and as soon as I turned thirteen, she gave me permission to do it, so I have been legally Beca Mitchell for twelve years now."

"Funny," Chloe said, chuckling softly. "Having known you as Rebeca and now as Beca, I'd have to agree you are definitely more of a Beca than a Rebeca."

"I agree," Stacie said, having overheard the last part of their conversation. Stacie sat at the table as she continued speaking. "I met Beca just after her name change. When I found out that Beca used to be Rebeca, it didn't fit her at all, in my opinion."

"So, how did you two meet?" Chloe asked, looking from Stacie to Beca.

"I sometimes feel like we've known each other forever," Stacie said.

"It was in Middle School. Eighth grade, right?" Beca asked, looking at Stacie for confirmation.

"That's right," Stacie said. "I had almost all the same classes with Beca, and we hit it off right from the start. It might have had something to do with the fact we were both already out as gay and bi."

"That's true," Beca said, nodding her head. "I came out to my mom about the same time as my name change. Once I met CR and Stacie, they helped me through a lot."

"Who is CR?"

"Our other best friend," Stacie said. "She's also Beca's publicist. So we're not just friends; we all work together, too. We three have been through a lot together."

"Yes, we have," Beca said, nodding in agreement. She chuckled as she added, "I can be quite the handful."

"You do keep us on our toes," Stacie said, causing Beca and Chloe to chuckle.

"Did you two ever date?" Chloe asked, looking back and forth at the two.

"What?" Beca said. "No. I'd never date Stacie; she's not my type." She turned to look at Stacie, adding, "No offense."

"None taken," Stacie said. "You are not my type either."

"Well, I think it's great that you are still friends and work together, too," Chloe said. Her smile fell as she added, "I feel like I've missed out on so much from losing touch with Beca. I really missed you when you didn't come back. There's not a day that has gone by that I haven't thought about you."

"Don't let it get you down, Chloe," Beca said, reaching to place her hand over Chloe's. "We were destined to find each other again. How else can you explain both of us being in this place at this time?"

"You're right; it is destiny," Chloe said, perking up slightly. "And I, for one, am glad we're in this place at this time together."

"Hear, hear!" Beca said.

~~ Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl ~~

Later that evening, Stacie had gone back to her cabin; Beca and Chloe were still sitting at the table, talking.

"I'm really sorry to hear about your parents," Beca said. "They were always so nice to me."

"Thank you," Chloe said. "I miss them so much. I'm glad I had Uncle Denny and Chicago to help me get through everything."

Chloe looked sad, and Beca took a deep breath and let it out.

"So, I, um, have something to confess to you," Beca said, looking down at the table and playing with her hands.

"What is it?" Chloe asked, reaching over to place her hand on Beca's to still them.

"I've kind of had a crush on you since we were nine years old," Beca said, blushing. "And you're the reason I realized I was gay."

Chloe smiled and squeezed Beca's hand. "I had a crush on you when you were Rebeca Cooke," Chloe said. "I loved you as my best friend and, as time went on, I hoped to find you one day so we might become something more. And I was in college when I fell for Beca Mitchell; I can't believe I didn't recognize that you were the same girl I couldn't forget. When I first heard you singing on the radio, I fell in love with your voice, and then when I saw you on one of the talk shows, I fell for your badass attitude and quick wit."

Beca blushed at all that Chloe said. She started rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

"It's getting a little chilly," Beca said.

"Let's go inside," Chloe said, standing from the table.

"We can go to my cabin if you want," Beca said, standing as well. "I'd like to continue talking to you if that's okay with you?"

"I'd like that," Chloe said. "I'll go to the kitchen and get us something to drink and meet you there in like ten minutes."

"Okay," Beca said. "Um, would you mind bringing me a brownie if there are any left?"

"I don't mind at all," Chloe said.

The two separated, and Chloe went to the main building while Beca went to her cabin.

~~ Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl ~~

"Hey, Brey," Chloe said as she entered the kitchen. "Were there any brownies left from dinner?"

"How many do you want?" Aubrey asked.

"Can we get four? And two bottles of water."

"Four brownies?" Aubrey asked with a raised brow. "And, we?"

"They're for Beca and me," Chloe said. "We're going to her cabin to continue talking, and she wanted a snack."

"Oh, do tell," Aubrey said, grabbing Chloe by the arm and sitting her down at the counter.

"Beca and I were talking outside," Chloe said. "Beca was getting cold, so she asked if we could continue our conversation in her cabin."

"What else will you be doing in Beca's cabin?" Aubrey asked, working her eyebrows up and down. "I mean, besides talking."

"Stop it, Brey," Chloe said, giggling. "We're just going to talk, that's all."

"That's all?" Aubrey said, moving to get the brownies and water for Chloe. "Are you sure you should have this much sugar and chocolate this late? You'll both be on a sugar high, and there's no telling what else you might get up to."

"I'm an adult," Chloe said, taking the brownies and water Aubrey was holding out to her. "If we get up to something else, that's nobody's business but ours."

Chloe turned and flounced toward the door.

"Thanks for the brownies," she called over her shoulder.

"Use protection," Aubrey yelled back.

#bechloe fanfiction #beca mitchell #chloe beale

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lunarliza · 4 years

Text

JJ Maybank Must Die | Chapter 1: Popsicles

fuckboy!JJ x Reader

series masterlist

JJ Maybank is the island’s most infamous fuckboy- not that you ever cared. But when a group of tourist girls come to your surf shop crying to you about him, you agree to help them plot revenge. Sabotage is all fun and games, until you find that the playboy you were sworn to ruin happens to be falling head over heels for you.

Yes, this is based on John Tucker Must Die lol

note: so this is my second JJ fic! I’m so excited for ya’ll to read it. it’ll be more light-hearted and shorter than DLS :)

“Come on... come on! This one right here let’s go!” you yelped. The crowd behind you was practically chattering on their fingernails.

The seven year old boy in the water paddled as hard as his lanky arms could take him towards the daunting wave.

“Now Gavin now! Stand up!” you shrieked as the boy hurriedly went through your instructed steps, tucking his knee, and thrusting upwards as the wave got close. Then, before he even realized, he glided rigidly along the wave as the board carried him across the water.

“Hooray! Awesome job Gavin!” The flock cheered and rushed to pat the boy on the back, his dad lifting him up in his arms.

The child scuttled towards you and threw his arms around your neck. You chuckled delightedly. “Alright everyone! That’s it for our surf lesson today. Be sure to check out the gift shop on your way out!”

You waved bye to the guests as they made way to return their boards to the hut, some handing you rolled up cash, with thankful smiles.

Once the coast was clear, you jogged back to the hut only to find Sophia, your best friend and lazy co-worker, lounging with her legs stretched on the checkout counter of the tiny surf shack. She hung a lollipop in her mouth while her eyes glued to her phone screen.

“You know, when you asked me to find you a job, I actually thought you meant one where you actually work.”

Sophia popped out the sucker and threw you a glare. “I did work! See!” she pointed her hand at the sign hanging beside the door that read ‘OBX Surf and Sports’, “I put that sign up this morning.”

“It’s crooked.”

“Bleh, bleh, bleh,” she mocked, “Nothing I ever do is good enough.” You chuckled and shook your head at her.

You peered out the giant window at the front of the store, surveying the empty beach. This was going to be the rest of your summer. At sixteen years old, you were one of the Outer Banks’ surfing all-stars and spent your days working as an instructor for the second year in a row.

Customers loved you and your ability to work with all ages rendering you the title of ‘Top Instructor’ at the shack- which didn’t mean much seeing as 90% of the employees were amateur teenagers.

Nevertheless, you were determined to keep that title, as whoever brought in the most satisfied customers by the end of the summer wins a $5,000 scholarship. And you needed that money bad in order to attend your dream school: UVA.

Along the beach, you caught a glimpse of your competition, Cody, and instinctly groaned.

On any other occasion, you really didn’t care about what people did with their lives, but something about your arrogant, sleazy, five-foot-seven co-worker grinded your gears.

He was always man-splaining to you and the other girls at the shack or kissing ass to your boss. And you knew well he was after the scholarship too- your scholarship.

“Look at him,” you sneered to Sophia as she joined you at the window to death-glare the boy. He was prepping his group on the sand for their session and looked absolutely despicable in his shorts that were inches away from exposing his little one. Emphasis on the little.

“Ugh, he’s making them do jumping jacks again,” Sophia pointed out, crinkling her nose, “God that poor old lady. Can he be any more extra?”

“I need to look away, I think I might vomit if he ever flashed me.”

Your best friend snickered at your hatred as you waxed down your board for your next lesson. “Did the group of girls check in yet?” you asked.

“Yeah, they’re sitting and waiting at Eye Sickles,” she informed, referring to the popsicle food-truck next door. “I can’t believe they really signed up for the month-long surfing program. I didn’t know people actually paid for that.”

“You’d be surprised. These tourists will buy into anything, trust me,” you said before heading out the door.

You walked up to three tourist girls lounging on the fold-out tables and chairs at the food-truck. They were mindlessly typing away on their phones, looking as bored as ever.

“Alright, do I have Annalise, Maia, and Arabella?” you announced with your work-smile on. They peered up from their phones and nodded with blank faces.

“Awesome,” you continued, trying to maintain your enthusiasm, “I’m y/n, I’ll be your instructor! I see you guys signed up for the month-long pro-boarding program which is great. Have you guys ever surfed before?”

“Nope,” a blonde girl replied, “Our parents found this online and said it’d be good for us to learn while we’re here. We’re from Richmond, Virginia.”

“Oh cool!” you jeered, the fake zeal was oozing at that point. “Well, I’m happy to be spending the summer with you guys. I’m going to have you guys grab a board and we’ll head down to the sand to go over the basic motions.”

The trio followed you into the hut and picked out a board from the beginners section. You noticed the blonde one giggling with Sophia at the stand for a bit before joining you on the sand. She had a leader-like quality to her while the two other remained quiet but friendly.

“Alright so, just for formalities, who’s who? That way I can identify you better,” you asked as the girls situated their boards along the shore.

Not shockingly, the blonde extended her hand to you first. “I’m Annalise,” she greeted a little sullenly. You shrugged off her attitude, attributing it to her being a bougie tourist.

“I’m Maia,” a tall, jet-black haired girl said next. She had a very athletic body and came off as the quietest one of the group.

“And I’m Arabella,” the last one chimed in. Her hair was a fiery orange and she had piercings run along her ears and nose.

“Alright cool! So now, we’ll start off with the movements you’ll go through once you hit the water. You want to start off flat on your stomach and paddle towards the waves. Make sure you have full control of your board at all times,” you began as the girls copied your demonstration on their own boards.

You heard sniffles come from the group, but ignored it to continue your spiel. You could hardly read any of their expressions through their giant, bug-eyed sunglasses.

Just as you were about to explain the importance of balance- you favorite part of the lesson- you saw the blonde sit up on her board in irritation and start sobbing through her glasses.

“Annalise come on, it’s not worth it,” the tall one, Maia, reasoned as the Annalise shook her head furiously.

“I can’t do this right now,” she cried before bolting back towards the shack.

You watched her in utter confusion. “Was it something I said?” you asked the remaining two.

The orange one shook her head and gave you a sincere look through her glasses. “No, she’s just really upset about this guy,” she turned to her friend, “Come on, let’s go check on her.”

At that point, you had no choice but to follow the group towards their distressed friend. This was definitely coming out of their session time.

The three of you plowed up the sand to find the girl, Annalise, sprawled on Sophia’s shoulder at the tables as she cooed her like a baby. You wanted to cringe.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. He’s a piece of shit anyways! Trust me, he did the same to me too,” your best friend comforted and petted the stranger’s yellow hair.

“What’s going on?” you questioned at the scene. Sophia glanced up at you with a pleading look.

“It’s JJ.”

Oh brother. This dude again. JJ Maybank was the Outer Bank’s most infamous fuck boy. Him and his friends threw parties all the time at the Boneyard- ones you have yet to attend- and he effortlessly earned his reputation by sleeping with any girl he could get his grubby hands on.

By this point, he’s broken half the hearts on the island with girls moaning and groaning about him left and right- Sophia included. You remembered her wailing the day he ghosted her after they did the nasty. It wasn’t a pretty day... or week for the matter.

You didn’t understand what the big deal was with the guy. You’d gone to school with him since the first grade and he’d always been that guy that rolls in the mud during playtime in elementary school. And he still was that guy to this day.

You heard all the cringey lines he’d pull on girls at school that would get them swooning and you swore he was running a voodoo business because no one in their right mind could fall for that.

But everyone did. Except for you.

“What? Did he ghost you too?” you gestured towards the wrecked weeping girl.

She nodded and blew her boogers into the tissues Sophia brought out.

“I-I, well, we met him at a party this weekend and he took me to this little hideout on the beach. He told me that he never met anyone like me before and said all this other shit. Then we had sex there, which I never do in public, and he said he couldn’t wait to see me again. And he never called me after!”

Though you thought her public display was a little too... public, you did feel sorry for her. The guy was a tool, and these tourist girls, especially, didn’t know any better.

“Don’t worry,” Sophia assured, resting a hand atop hers, “he did it to me and everyone at school. We all fell for the trap.”

Maia and Arabella joined the sitting girls in a piled group hug as the ones in the center sputtered in tears together. You couldn’t bear to watch, but for Sophia, you awkwardly joined in anyways.

The rest of the surfing session consisted of the girls pulling up their own chairs and bad-mouthing JJ, along with all other men, as everyone licked their popsicles.

You sucked on your mango one, not minding the little break as it was the easiest $150 you ever made. The girls weren’t as hoity-toity as you first thought. They apologized for wasting your time and promised to leave five-star reviews about you. Even better.

As evening rolled in, you found yourself laughing and joking around with your new-found friends. They told you wild stories of their private school shenanigans back in Richmond while you and Sophia filled them in on life at the OBX.

“This day was incredible,” Annalise beamed, dazed after her fourth popsicle. “Can’t believe we all bonded like this over a guy,” she chuckled, “I just... gah, I wish we could get him back somehow. Make him feel how we feel!”

“You should,” you agreed, “Why don’t one of you guys go to the parties and try to seduce him and then leave him hanging? The trick with men is to withhold sex from them and they’ll be helpless.”

Everyone’s face lit up in excitement at your idea. “No, totally! We could definitely do that!” Sophia exclaimed with wide eyes. “So who will it be? Who’s our hamster?”

“Not me,” Maia objected almost instantly, “I have a boyfriend back home so no seducing will be done on my part.”

“Arabella then,” Annalise suggested, nudging the girl beside her.

“Alright...” she agreed, fiddling with the string of her bathing suit, “I guess I could take one for the team.”

“There we go!” you cheered, “You just march straight into that party, grind on him a bit to leave him hanging, then proceed to embarrass the shit out of him! Problem solved!”

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

note: do not worry! more drama to come

chapter 2

#outerbanks #outer banks #outer banks imagine #rafe outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #john b obx #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx #jj obx #jj x y/n #jj x reader #jj maybank #jj #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

https://wiypt-writes.tumblr.com/post/644486634874847232/stark-spangled-banner

Ch58: You Have To Go Through The Worst, To Get To The Best.

Intro: In the aftermath of the battle, Katie grieves for Tony as the world comes to terms with the fact that people they lost five years ago have reappeared.

Warnings: “Language!”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: This is it! We head into the last part and as such, a brand new banner again from @angrybirdcr. Only a few chapters left.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 57

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Sorry for your loss.

Four words that Katie was already sick of hearing. Sorry. What did people have to be sorry for? It wasn’t like it was their fault. Still, she acknowledged the sympathy that came her way, completely automatically, almost emotionlessly. She barely registered the fact she had spoken to Fury and Hill, two people who had been dead five years ago, she didn’t have the energy to wish she could knock Ross’ head off his shoulders and had no idea how long she had walked what was left of the compound, maybe an hour or so? Who cared anyway? She simply did what people asked her to do to help out, whilst Steve hurried around organising everyone and barking orders.

Nevertheless, when the crowds of Emergency Services, Armed Forces and Support Staff that had flooded the Compound left, she suddenly felt alone and found herself in their compound apartment, which had miraculously survived bar from a smashed window in the living area. She glanced around before she headed to the bedroom and slumped heavily on the large bed, staring at the wall.

Just staring.

It was quiet, but her mind was anything but. Her brain was screaming all sorts of stuff at her, a jumble of words and sounds and visions, but she couldn’t really understand any of it.

She simply felt broken.

“Katie?”

A voice broke through her reverie and she looked up to see Steve in the doorway.

“Hey.” She gave him a soft smile. “Pepper just spoke to Happy, the kids are fine. All three are fast asleep. He’s going to wake them in a few hours and bring them back.” “No.” Katie shook her head. “I want him to bring them now.” “Honey its almost two am.” He said, and Katie frowned. Okay, so she’d been walking around a little longer than she thought, then. “Let them sleep. We can go, get cleaned up and…” “Plan how we tell them their Uncle is dead.” She swallowed, gazing back down at her hands.

Steve took a shaky breath. He felt beyond guilty. Guilty that he got to go home to his kids because of the fact that Tony didn’t. Steeling himself, he made his way to the bed, sat down next to his wife and wrapped his arm around her as she lay her head on his shoulder.

“What’s everyone doing?” She asked softly.

“Rhodey is in with Ross and President Ellis…” “Ellis is here?” She looked at him, frowning.

Steve nodded. “Rhodey’s giving him a brief on what’s happened. They’re gonna need to put an announcement out so…”

“Suppose it was probably a shock everyone re-appearing again.” She reasoned, quietly. “What about everyone else?”

“Well Lang, Parker and Bruce already left.” Steve explained as his hand gently rubbed up and down her arm. “And there’s a chopper on the way to take Pepper home and a couple more following to take the rest of us to the Tower. The roads are completely jammed, apparently there’s impromptu parties taking place all over. Might be a while before we can get back through to Brooklyn.” The thought of partying seemed alien to Katie, but as she thought about it, it wasn’t surprising. People would be greeting lost loved ones, celebrating the fact the world has returned to normal.

For them anyway.

“Clint will want to go home.” Katie nodded. “He’ll be desperate to see Laura and the kids.” “We’ve got a jet on the way for him so he can go as soon as possible.” Steve soothed, dropping a kiss to her head.

If ever Katie was grateful for having a husband with Military organisational skills it was now. He’d literally thought of everything. She closed her eyes and nuzzled into him even more, seeking out comfort like a child, before Steve reached around and pulled her onto his lap, holding her close to him, as they sat in silence.

****

“I guess this is strange for you too, huh?” Steve said as they made their way into the Tower. “Yeah you could say that.” Sam shrugged, “One minute everyone was in Wakanda and then the next minute it was just us, and the jungle had changed.” He paused, scratching his head. “Then that Strange dude turns up and tells us it’s been five years and we needed to go fight one last time.”

“Has it really been that long?” Bucky asked and Steve nodded. “So now you’re older than me?” He grinned. Steve chuckled as Katie gave a small smile. “Shut up.”

They made their way into the elevator and FRIDAY greeted them, somewhat forlornly, as Katie asked for their floor. The elevator fell silent as it scooted upwards, pinging open. Katie stepped out first, followed by Wanda then the men.

“So, where do you want-“Bucky began but he stopped dead causing Sam to bump into him.

“What the hell, Frosty?” he spluttered, frowning as he followed Bucky’s eye line, his own eyes growing wide as he saw what Bucky was staring at. Wanda was also gazing, her mouth open, and Steve immediately knew what they were looking at- the large framed photo on the wall in the living room.

Even though their home was in Brooklyn this was still very much their apartment. Katie sometimes stayed if she had a big meeting, or on occasions they would crash here when they grabbed a rare night out in Manhattan. And it was for that reason that the photos in the apartment had been updated over the past five years as their lives had moved on. The wall their friends were gazing at contained two prints. The first was one taken by Katie at the hospital when Jamie was hours old, the same photo also adorned the wall in the lounge at home and it showed Steve asleep in the chair by her hospital bed, hair unkempt, shirt crumbled, stubble on his chin as his baby son was clutched to his chest as they both slept. He remembered the moment like it was yesterday, one snapshot moment out of God knows how many, all of which the three people stood in front of him had missed.

The second was from last year, and showed Emmy with Alex as they sat on the sofa at home, both grinning at the camera.

“You…” Sam gasped as Wanda and Bucky turned to them, mouth hanging open.

Steve nodded, “Yeh, err, did no one tell you?” He asked, rubbing his neck.

“No.” Bucky breathed.

“But then it never really cropped up in conversation, you know, on account of us being in the middle of a battle and all.” Sam said, a little sarcastically and Wanda thumped his arm before she turned to Katie.

“How old?” She asked softly.

“Emily is sixteen next week.” Katie said, looking at the photos smiling softly. “We adopted her after the snap, it’s a long story.”

She then looked at Steve who smiled, knowing she was allowing him the task of revealing their boy’s name to two of the men he was named after.

“And Jamie’s three.” He turned to look at Bucky and Sam.

“Jamie?” Bucky asked thickly.

“Or to give him his full name James Anthony Samuel.”

Bucky and Sam exchanged a look, the pair of them floundering for words.

“Cap,” Sam swallowed, his eyes misting over. “Wow, I’m so happy for you guys.” “I can’t wait to meet them.” Wanda beamed.

“You might regret saying that.” Steve chuckled. “Emmy’s a sass bag and Jamie can be a handful. He’s only three but he’s stubborn, opinionated- don’t even say it.” He pointed at Bucky who had opened his mouth to comment, a grin spreading across his handsome face.

“They’re awesome.” Katie spoke softly as her eyes moved round the apartment and fell on a photo of her and Tony taken at her wedding. Suddenly she couldn’t be there anymore. Excusing herself she headed into their bedroom where she flopped onto the bed, now feeling utterly overwhelmed, still struggling to make head or tail of her emotions. She should have been celebrating like everyone else in the streets was doing. Their friends and trillions of other people were saved, but she couldn’t because again, just like the other week when they had grieved for Natasha, there was one person who wasn’t coming back.

Her brother.

Taking a deep breath, she shed her boots before she stood up and peeled off her cat suit before she made her way straight into the en-suite.

She turned the shower on as hot as she could stand, an attempt to sooth the pain she now felt in every inch of her body. But whilst some of it was bruising from the multiple blows she had taken, some of it was coming from inside. The pain of losing her brother was physical, and hard. Closing her eyes she lay her head against the tiles, allowing the water to beat down on her, lost in her memories. “I got full marks on my English essay Tone!” Her 10 year old self grinned up at him as he leaned against the car, looking as effortlessly cool as ever.

“Get you, you little brainbox!” He ruffled her hair. “That’s awesome, so awesome in fact I think we need to stop for pizza and a shit load of ice cream on the way home. Sound good?” “You’re the best!” She beamed as he took her pink back-pack off her and dropped it into the trunk as she climbed into the passenger seat of his BWM.

“Oh no, you are not going out wearing that!” Tony stod up as she walked into the living room of the house. Sixteen year old Katie rolled her eyes.

“Tone its boiling hot outside, what you want me to wear? A pair of jeans and a fucking coat?” “Anything but that!” He scoffed, looking at the rather short denim skirt. “Young Lady, I can see what you had for breakfast!”

“Oh bite me, Tony.” She shot back, hearing the guffaw that Rhodey gave out from the sofa before she shot out of the front door to greet her boyfriend who had just pulled up the drive.

She was eighteen…, cruising along the cliff in Malibu, laughing, her hands on the steering wheel of her convertible bug, Tony in the passenger seat sipping an iced tea as the pair of them sang as loudly as they could to Drops of Jupiter- their song.

“Mr Rock and Roll over there, listen to you!” She laughed as the song finished and it changed to AC/DC ‘Thunder’.

“If you ever tell anyone about my love of Train I will kill you.” Tony looked at her over his sunglasses and she snorted, grinning.

“I’m so telling Pepper.”

“Err you know I can still pull my funding.” He glared “You can kiss goodbye to going to Oxford…”

And speaking of Oxford, at twenty-one, she was there, accepting her first class honours in English Literature and Mythology. As she smiled for the camera, she could see Tony stood up in the middle of the hall, whistling before he punched the air. “That’s my girl!” He yelled “Katie Maria Stark. That’s my girl! No I won’t sit down…what did you just say?” And he began arguing with the person behind him.

At twenty-six she was crying, tears of happiness as the ramp on the aircraft carrier opened to reveal her brother. His hair was longer, he looked thinner but he was alive. He was barely at the bottom before she flung herself at him, not caring that his arm was a sling.

“Hey Kiddo.” He said softly as she buried her face into his neck.

“You fucking asshole!” She sobbed, “Next time, you ride with Rhodey, you got that?”

“Trust me, there will be no next time.” He chuckled as she pulled back. “Afghanistan is a shit hole.”

A year later she was crying again, sobbing even, as Tony sat with his arms around her, gently shushing her as she sat up in her bed. “How could he do that to me Tony?” She sniffed, her tears dampening her brother’s t-shirt as he rubbed her back, laying his head against hers. “I thought he loved me…but…” “He isn’t worth your tears, Kiddo.” He sighed “Grant Ward doesn’t deserve them, or you. No one ever will, you got that? No one will ever be good enough for you.”

And then she was walking up the aisle towards her future husband, her arm linked tightly around Tony’s. He pressed a kiss to her head.

“Remember, just because I’m giving you away doesn’t mean I won’t kick his ass if he ever hurts you.” Tony mumbled and she snorted, turning to look at him. “I love you to the stars and back, Katie, remember that…”

Like she could ever forget. Tony hadn’t been to everyone’s taste, hell, at times he hadn’t be hers, and they’d been estranged for two years. But Katie had never, not once, stopped loving the man who had brought her up as his own. Her brother and father all rolled into one.

She finished washing her hair and stepped out of the shower, the tears still not arriving. She began to wonder if there was something wrong with her. She’d cried more when Natasha died. She pulled on a towel robe that was hanging behind the door and began to dry her hair, squeezing the water out of the long strands.

“I remember when you used to do that for me.” She grinned, watching Tony as he sat with Morgan between his legs on the lounger round the pool at her Brooklyn home, rubbing the little girl’s wet hair ferociously with a pink beach towel, making the three year old cackle with laughter. I remember…but Morgan won’t.

And then the cry ripped from her chest, like someone had reached down her throat and pulled it from the very depths of her heart.

***** Steve made sure the guys were settled in a spare apartment a few floors down, the three of them opting to share, none of them particularly wanting to be alone. Making his way back into theirs, he headed straight to the bedroom and heard Katie turn off the water to the shower. With a groan he stripped off the top half of his uniform, dropping the grubby item to the bed. His eyes were drawn to the silver star in the middle, and he ran his fingers over it, the material torn in places having seen better days, much like him.

With a deep breath he reached to pull off his compression shirt, but before he got chance, he heard a noise from the bathroom, a primal, raw, broken scream that chilled his every bone. Quick as flash he crossed the room and pushed open the door to the en-suite and found his wife slumped on her knees on the floor, screaming and crying uncontrollably.

“He’s gone! He’s gone, he’s gone!” Steve had known this was coming and it broke his heart that he could do nothing to help, nothing to take away the utter desperation and pain and anger his wife was feeling. Without hesitation he dropped to his knees and she turned to him, fisting her hands around his top as he pulled her close, one arm round her back, the other in her hair.

“Let it out,” his voice was croaky as he rocked her, gently stroking her hair as his cheek pressed against the top of her head, “I got you, sweetheart, I got you.” How long they stayed there for, with Katie screaming and crying over the soft sounds of his soothing, Steve had no idea, but eventually her sobs became sniffles as she regained some form of composure.

“Steve,” she managed to stutter as she pulled back to look at him, “Tony’s gone, he’s gone, why? Why did he have to do that? There had to be some other way!” “Oh, Doll.” Steve’s voice cracked, his own heart ached with grief and sympathy and love as he dropped a kiss to her forehead, pulling her onto his lap as he sat back on the floor, making no attempts to move her. He buried his face into her hair, his own sobs catching in his throat.

“All my life Tony has been there.” She whispered gently as kissed her head. “Even when we were apart those years I knew that if I needed him, he would be there…but now…he’s gone and I don’t know what to do.”

“You do what you always do.” Steve whispered softly as he pulled back, cupping her face in his hands, wiping her tears with his thumbs. “You get up, you dust yourself off and you act like the amazing, strong, beautiful woman you are. My wife, my baby momma.”

“I don’t know if I can. Katie spluttered.

“Yes, you can. You’re the strongest person I know.” He implored her, sniffing a little.

“I don’t feel strong.”

“You won’t.” He shook his head. “Not yet. But I’m here. Okay? And we’ll do it together.”

Katie looked at him for a moment before she moved once more to bury her face into his t-shirt again, simply breathed him in. His warmth and familiar smell, even if he wasn’t as fresh as he could be after the exertion of battle, was a comfort, a balm to her broken soul.

Tony was gone, she knew that, but she wasn’t on her own. She’d never be on her own as long as she had Steve.

****

“Don’t be sad Momma.” Jamie whispered, as Katie’s tears tickled down her cheeks, her son on her lap. TO her right, Emmy sat on her father’s, despite her age meaning she was normally way past that stage, as she cried into his chest, his arms gently cradling her. “Uncle Nee isn’t on his own.” “What do you mean, baby?” Katie asked, sniffing as he played with a strand of her hair.

He looked at her with his baby blue eyes and shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. “Because he’s with Auntie Nat-Nat.”

“Yeah,” Katie stuttered, a soft sob escaping her. “You’re right. But I’m still sad, but you don’t need to be worried about that okay?” Jamie nodded, before he blinked and frowned. “I can kiss it better, like you kiss my ouches better.”

Katie smiled as he leaned up, connecting his lips to hers with a loud smacking noise.

“That’s it, you just made it all okay.” She smiled, wiping her eyes.

“When can we go home?” Emmy asked, sitting up slightly, her voice croaky.

“Soon, I promise.” Steve looked at her. “I think we’ll stay here for tonight, your mom and I both need a rest.”

Emmy nodded “I expect kicking alien butt for hours takes it out of you.” Steve snorted. “A little.” “You did it though. Everyone came back.” “Yeah, and on that note,” Katie picked up, “we have some people we’d like you to meet. That’s if you’re feeling up to it.” “Is it them? Bucky, Sam and Wanda?” Emmy asked, her wet brown eyes opening wide.

“Yeah.” Steve smiled. “And, if it’s ok with you, we thought we could all have breakfast together.”

“Pancakes?” Jamie asked hopefully and Katie nodded, dropping a kiss to his head.

“Pancakes” She affirmed.

“Now?”

“Do you ever think about anything but this?” Katie chuckled, prodding his tummy. He pondered for a second.

“Legos.” he said, nodding. “I think about my legos sometime.”

Emmy snorted and Steve let out a little laugh “Pancakes and legos eh, son?” he reached out and ruffled Jamie’s hair. “What more could a three year old want?”

****

Manhattan was in utter chaos and going out in public was the last thing Steve or Katie wanted for fear of being mobbed. However, the kitchens in the tower were well stocked and after sending Emmy to forage what she could, it was easy for Katie to whip up a batch of batter and throw some bacon into a pan.

She set Emmy to work chopping some fruit, and never one to miss out, she stood Jamie on a chair in front of her and gently guided his hand as he held the whisk to stir the batter. Katie was literally grabbing the ladle to drop the first load into the pan, when the door to the apartment opened and Steve’s voice carried in to the kitchen.

“Hey guys?” Jamie squealed in excitement and Katie moved so he could get down. He shot out of the kitchen, barrelling into the lounge where he skidded to a halt by his dad and gazed up at the three strange adults in front of him.

The first thing that hit Bucky was just how like Steve the little boy was. Stocky, bright blue eyes and a shock of dark blonde hair.

“He looks like you.” He smiled, nodding to Steve as Katie stepped into the room with Emmy and smiled.

“Jamie, Emmy, this is Bucky, Sam and Wanda.” Steve introduced them all, as Emmy raised her hand shyly in greeting.

Meanwhile, Jamie simply gazed up at Bucky, his attention focussed directly on his metal arm and Bucky suddenly began to worry that it would scare him. He was attempting to move it out of view by standing side on, until Jamie stepped forward with all his usual boldness and pointed.

“Is that metal?” “Jamie.” Steve spoke, his tone soft. He couldn’t scald his son for being curious, but at the same time he had seen the apprehension in Bucky’s eyes. Apprehension that had now turned to amusement.

“Yeah it is.” Bucky chuckled, crouching down so he was eye level with his namesake. He held his left hand up, wiggling the fingers. “Wanna touch it?” Jamie reached out and placed his palm against Bucky’s prosthetic and grinned, “Cool,” before he looked up at Steve. “Can I have one?”

“Absolutely not.” Steve shook his head with a grin.

“You think that’s cool you should see my wings.” Sam crouched down next to Bucky, smiling at Jamie.

“You have wings?” The little boy’s eyes grew wide “I want…”

“No!”

“Fine I’ll just ask Santa.” Jamie shruggged and Sam let out a loud laugh.

“I like this kid!” he grinned, standing up.

“You can have him.” Steve winked, as Bucky stood up straight and grinned. “Saves us sending him to The Children’s Prison.” “Morgan told me there’s no such place.” Jamie looked at his Dad and Steve let out a sigh. The threat of the Child Prison was their biggest bargaining chip when he was being naughty. Especially as the naughty step wasn’t an option, because the first (and last) time they tried that they caught him climbing up the staircase and sliding down the bannister.

“I told you titch, it does.” Emmy gave a dramatic roll of her eyes. “I lived there before mom and dad adopted me. And all they give you to eat all day is slugs and slime…” Steve shared a look with Bucky and let out a loud laugh.

“Don’t.” Bucky shook his head with a grin.

“You gave Becca nightmares for days with that story!” Steve laughed as he recalled Bucky telling his sister about a hole in the ground where bad kids went. “She wouldn’t go near a manhole for months!”

“I can still feel the blow round the ears my Pa gave me.” Bucky automatically reached up to rub at the back of his head. The well natured chatter continued as they made their way into the kitchen. Steve went to brew the coffee as Sam, Wanda and Bucky took seats round the table with the kids. Occasionally he caught the odd snippet of their chat as Jamie told Bucky about his toys at home, informed Sam all about his friend at day-care, whilst Emmy was busy talking to Wanda about school and what she wanted to do in the future. But all the time Steve had one eye on his wife as she stood, silently, cooking enough pancakes to feed a small army.

Which, to be fair, was probably what they would need with two super soldiers and a hungry three year old to feed.

Moving over towards her, he slipped his arms around her waist and dropped a kiss to her cheek.

“You ok?” He asked, before he sighed “Sorry, stupid question.”

She chuckled and shook her head. “No it’s not stupid, I know what you meant. And honestly, no. I’m not. Not really. But I will be, in time. I hope.”

Steve dropped another kiss to her cheek and winced as a loud “GET A ROOM!” sounded across the kitchen and he turned to glare at his son. Bucky and Sam exchanged a gleeful look as Steve raised his hand and pointed at Emmy accusingly. “That was not me!” She scoffed, indignantly “It was Bucky that told him to say it.” “If this is the impression you have on my kids after all of fifteen minutes, James Buchanan Barnes, then I’m going to have to seriously consider letting you near them again.” Katie shook her head as she dropped the plate of pancakes into the middle of the table.

“Why did you just call him James?” Jamie asked, frowning

“Because my name is James too.” Bucky answered for Katie.

“No, it’s Bucky.”

“He only gets called James when he’s been bad, bit like you, pal.” Steve chuckled, placing Jamie’s plate of food in front of him. “Now eat that, and then you can show Buck your legos.”

“My legos are here?” Jamie said, grinning.

“Yeah they’re in your bag, we brought them from the compound.” Steve answered, dropping a kiss to his son’s head.

“What the hell is a Lego?” Bucky asked, his face contorted in confusion. The room feel silent as all eyes turned to the man who glanced around, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “What?” ****

Rhodey called later that morning to give them a heads up that the President would be addressing the nation later that afternoon, and to also inform Katie that they were talking about honouring both Tony and Natasha posthumously. Katie had merely snorted, not entirely sure what Tony would have said about any of that, until Rhodey made her laugh about the last time he had received an honour, getting stabbed with the pin by the Senator awarding it to him, Senator Stern.

Who had turned out to be HYDRA.

True to his word, just as he had done five years ago, President Ellis’ address rang out across the nation at precisely three that afternoon, on every TV and Radio channel there was.

“I know there is much speculation surrounding the events of the last 24 hours, and it is for that reason I find myself addressing you all once more, with regards to the Decimation. Only this time I am happy to greet you all with much better news. Thanks to the brave actions of the Avengers and countless others who fought in a ferocious battle Upstate, the Vanished have been returned to us in the same state in which they left.

But it isn’t without cost.

Unfortunately, I have the very sad job of confirming to you all that the rumours are true. Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff both lost their lives in the mission to bring everyone back. My sincere condolences and thoughts are with the rest of the Avengers, in particular the Rogers and Stark families, and I’m sure I speak for the entire world when I say we will be forever indebted to the two fallen heroes for their brave sacrifices which ensured that friends and families across the globe could be reunited.”

Katie glanced down at her hands as she took a deep breath, the tears falling into her lap as Steve’s arm curled round her shoulder, sniffing a little as his own eyes were once again misted over.

“I know you will all have many questions, some of you will be at a loss as to what to do, and unfortunately I don’t have all the answers, so it is for that reason, if I may, I’d like to address those who have been returned to us.

Over the past five years the world has become a very different place to the one you knew. People lost entire families, friends, husbands, wives, boyfriends, girlfriends. We had to rebuild, make sense of living without you. So I ask you , please be patient with us whilst we try once more to make sense of events, only this time they are a lot happier as you have all been returned to us. Don’t take it too personally if we seem a little, well, astounded.”

Ellis paused, wiping his eyes as he smiled, licking his lips.

“Thank you all, God Bless America, and God Bless the Avengers.”

****

That night fireworks exploded across the skies all over the country. The current occupants of the tower sat on the roof watching the symphony of colours and explosions as it light up the Manhattan sky-line, Jamie opting to sit on Bucky’s knee instead of his father’s, because of course Bucky was now his favourite person on the planet.

But Steve didn’t mind, well, not too much anyway.

The next few days passed them by in a bit of a blur. They moved back to the house in Brooklyn. Sam and Bucky came with them. However, surprisingly to Steve (but not to Katie) Wanda opted to head to Clint’s after the archer called and offered her a room. Steve’s time was divided between speaking to the UN, various people in the senate and government alongside Rhodey as they started to make plans to help those people who had returned because reversing the snap had raised a whole cacophony of different problems, just as Tony had predicted it would.

Some of the vanished had come back to find their wives or husbands had re-married. Others found themselves with no-one left as they’d passed away. Some found themselves homeless as new occupants had moved into their apartments which had been left vacant. Two of those people were Peter Parker and his Aunt May, who were now residing in the Tower until Katie could find them somewhere permanent.

And then there were the kids who had been adopted, suddenly finding themselves with two sets of parents.

Katie, on the other hand, had no time or energy for anything other than planning Tony’s funeral with Pepper, and a service of sorts for Natasha with Clint. Natasha’s was to take place first, a small ceremony at Clint’s farm where they would be planting a red maple tree in her honour. Tony’s, however, was slightly more tricky.

Her brother had, at one point, led a very public lifestyle and naturally (even if unfairly) he was attracting the most public interest. They’d been approached by President Ellis, who had asked if they would be open to a full, state public funeral. Katie had been horrified at first, until Pepper had snorted and reminded her that the Old Tony would have loved the attention and fuss.

But New Tony wouldn’t.

Which was why, in the end, they compromised and chose to celebrate the two sides to Tony’s huge personality.

For the Genius, Billionaire, Play-Boy, Philanthropist they would hold a service at St Patrick’s Cathedral and for the husband, father, brother, friend they would then hold a more intimate wake at the lake house, where his ashes would be scattered eventually.

It was draining, emotionally and physically, so it was no surprise to Steve that Katie was constantly tired and a little irritable and the Solider felt the harsh side of her tongue on more than one occasion. But he never bit back, he knew how she was feeling. He’d had to do it with his Ma. Instead he listened to her bounce ideas off him, helped with the organisation where he could, and simply comforted her, holding her close whilst she cried when she needed to.

A week post the return of the Vanished, people seemed to have reached a half-way point, so to speak, between what they had been like before the Snap and what they had become post. But what was noticeable to all of them was that they were persistently mobbed in the street, people wanting to thank them constantly.

Jamie found the whole thing hilarious, waving to people as he walked with his Father one morning to the play-ground. Steve, however, after half an hour had returned home because he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“It’s mad.” He shook his head with a sigh, flopping onto the sofa next to her. “I mean…”

“It’ll die down.” Katie yawned. “Just gonna take a while. People still don’t know what to do. Hell, half the time I don’t know what to do.” She took a deep breath, the back of her hand pressing to her mouth as a queasy feeling washed over her for the umpteenth time that day. “You still feeling crappy?” Steve asked, watching as Jamie sat on the rug with his trucks.

“A little.”

“You thrown up again?” “No.” She shook her head “I don’t feel sick anymore just a little funny, drained almost. I don’t think it’s anything serious. Probably just the stress of all the organising and stuff.”

But as she said the words something in her mind clicked and she sat bolt upright, Steve giving her a curious look.

“What’s wrong?”

“Bruce’s Snap.” She whispered. “The one where he brought everyone back.”

“What about it?”

“What if it brought everyone back?” “Well we know it did…” Steve frowned, not following her line of thought.

“No I mean,” Katie took his hand and placed it on her stomach, “everyone.”

It took Steve a second to cotton on, but when he did he blinked, looking into his wife’s eyes, a faint buzzing ringing in his ears.

“Shit.” He spluttered out.

“Language.” Jamie reprimanded him almost immediately, but both parents ignored him.

“I didn’t,” Steve swallowed, “I mean, I didn’t even consider that a possibility. Do you think it has?”

Katie took a deep breath. “I dunno, I mean the first snap took it away…”

They stayed still for a moment, simply looking at each other, both thinking the same. If one snap had taken their baby, the second snap could quite as easily have brought it back.

“I think I need to go to the store.” Katie muttered.

**** Less than an hour later husband and wife were stood in the bathroom looking down. Down at four different tests. Four different tests that all told them the same thing.

“I can’t believe it.” Steve whispered, his arms wrapping around his wife from behind as he stared down at the test in her hand.

“Me neither.” She whispered, turning to face him, tears in her eyes.

“I’m gonna be a daddy, again.” His hands fell to her hips, blue eyes shining as she gave him a smile, the tears falling down her face.

“And I’m gonna be fat again.” She spluttered, a watery laugh. There was a pause, before Steve’s face cracked into a huge grin and he pulled her to him. She wrapped her arms round his neck and he hugged her close, the pair of them laughing through their tears.

“I like you fat with my kid.” Steve pulled away, wiping the tears that were trickling down her face with his thumbs. She smiled and returned the gesture, brushing the back of her hand over his wet cheeks.

“I love you. So fucking much.” He whispered softly as he dropped a kiss to her lips.

“I love you too.” Her voice croaked before Steve pulled her close once more, his huge arms holding her tightly to him, as he breathed her in, his face pressing into her hair.

And for the first time in a week, Katie’s heart felt a little less broken.

**** Chapter 59

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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makeste · 4 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 277: Go Go Child Soldiers

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “hey guys I’m going to kill off Aizawa” and we were like “no you’re not” and he was like “watch me, I’m really gonna do it!!” and we were all “DO NOT” and he was all “okay okay geez.” I don’t know if he thinks he’s being cute or what, but we will probably have to have a little talk after this. Anyway, so other stuff that happened included the obligatory news copter showing up to record the carnage so that All Might and Eri can watch; Tomura activating some Approximately High End Noumus to serve as cannon fodder to distract all the hero extras; and Gran dropping off Kacchan and Deku a little ways away from the battle and being all “stay here”, which was IMMEDIATELY and PROFOUNDLY ignored as they just FLEW RIGHT BACK OVER TO THE BATTLE anyway to save Aizawa. Yep. Kacchan really wants to lose that quirk.

Today on BnHA: Tomura, Deku, Kacchan, and Endeavor all take turns flinging each other into the ground and launching fire and explosions and stuff, all of which is impressively violent and doesn’t really get anything accomplished. The grown-ups all collectively decide to shrug off Deku and Kacchan joining in on the fight as though they’re teenagers sneaking into an R-rated film as opposed to CHILDREN on a BATTLEFIELD, and I can’t help but feel like this very nonchalant decision will have some serious consequences! Tomura has a moment of self-awareness in which he’s all “is AFO possessing me lol” before deciding “NAH THAT CAN’T POSSIBLY BE TRUE” which, haha, okay. The chapter then ends with Mt. Lady unsettlingly taking on Gigantomachia ALL BY HERSELF??! which seems like a REALLY TERRIBLE IDEA?? and had better not result in anything bad happening to her though or I SWEAR TO GOD.

ooooooooh!

preview of the final battle, anyone? and I feel like this panel is deliberately drawn to resemble All Might and AFO’s iconic battle at Kamino as well, which ramps up the intensity all the more. very nice

and shout out to Aizawa for making this moment possible with his quirk! I have to assume this isn’t something we’re gonna get the chance to see too often moving forward, unless he decides to chaperone all future battles from here on out, which would be good for the kids but also very stressful for me

anyways, so... lol

it really is almost as though Gran asked them this question and then Deku was like “OOH! I KNOW!” and then just leaped into action to demonstrate. “this!! him getting ahold of me, right?? this would be so much worse.” good job Deku

although

he’s not wrong, though. dammit. I mean, I’ve already tacitly endorsed their involvement by approving of them saving Aizawa’s life. you know, for that brief span of time after Aizawa showed up and before we knew how powerful Tomura would still be even without his quirks, I really thought that Aizawa losing his own quirk was all but an inevitability. now, though, it kinda feels like they absolutely wouldn’t stand a chance without him?? hahaha

honestly it’s a little uncomfortable to think about the fact that the Child Soldiers That We All Agree Should Under No Circumstances Be A Part Of This War have so far a) saved Hawks’s life and b) now saved Aizawa’s, and by extension c) saved the entire world. I mean but don’t get me wrong, you still won’t see me writing the HPSC any thank you cards any time soon

anyway now that I’ve said all that, watch Aizawa just immediately lose his fucking quirk right afterwards though. WE’LL SEE

...sigh

why is every last one of the pros so utterly goddamn useless. sorry, was that a bit harsh. I’ll try to phrase it more gently. what I meant to say was, why is every single non-Mirko adult person on this mission about as useful as a RoseArt crayon. why do they all SUCK so HARD. why are they BAD. bad!! they’re just bad!!!

anyways but back to Deku

I’m torn between SOBBING FREELY at this and banging my head against a wall lmao. help please my green son is so loving and brave and so tremendously stupid, just

this is true! and by the way though Deku, just remind me again, I spaced it out just now, what was the reason Tomura was out here to get ambushed by Aizawa and the others in the first place? he was after... something? one for... the road? one for the money? one flew over the cuckoo’s nest?? damn what was it

damn it Aizawa stop dumping your feels in the middle of my sarcastic rants

bro. I know, right?? listen I’m proud of him too don’t get me wrong! the unfortunate thing is though that right now he’s not just your student; he’s also -- and it’s not your fault you don’t know this yet though -- The Thing That Tomura Wants Right Now, On A Silver Platter. so yeah. hence why I am concerned

oop no time to talk though cuz my boys are doing a ~*~COMBO THING~*~ ooooooooh yeahhhhhhh

look at that. “okay Deku you just hold him there and try not to get shot.” truly dazzling teamwork there

LISTEN, YOU!!

THE DISRESPECT?? ooh man and look at his face. this is the happy reunion I’ve been waiting oh my god oh my god

LOL

YEAH HE CAN DO THAT NOW HAHA. while you were off getting all transcendent he was mastering his BLOOP now what huh take that

...sob he’s just yanking Deku along behind him as if he weighs nothing. it’s like that one fancomic of the entire Bakusquad trying to stop an angry Kirishima --

-- HOLY SHIT I SAID “WHOA” ALOUD

MEEP THAT’S CLOSE. whew. okay. breathe. breathe

OH IT’S YOU AGAIN

you guys, is it just me or has this entire battle so far just been one long loop of -> Deku tries to fight Tomura -> Kacchan goes with -> Kacchan almost dies -> an adult intervenes at the last possible second -> Endeavor tries to fight Tomura -> Endeavor almost dies -> Deku tries to fight Tomura -> repeat ad infinitum

anyway so Tomura’s actually going flying into the ground now. that probably came within a hair’s breath of actually nearly almost mildly hurting him! way to go guys keep it up!

and Endeavor’s now echoing a question which many fans have been asking these last few weeks, “where’s Shouto?” where indeed. off somewhere not being a dumbass like these two, one hopes. maybe sticking his arm down some Not Quite High Ends’ throats and making them hibernate

lord help us Tomura’s actually stopped fighting for two seconds to monologue. is this good or bad??

is this a deliberate tactic? are you trying to buy time?? I don’t like this lol. why did they stop fighting you now that they’ve finally almost sort of got an edge on you

wow we’re really just... letting the kids fight, huh

just letting them be right there in formation with Endeavor. no one stops to think “are there any actual adult people we could try and swap out in place of these two high school freshmen?” because they already know the answer is “no there are not” SIGH

EVEN AIZAWA OMG

AND WHAT HAPPENS AFTER THAT?? “la la la we’re not gonna think about it.” goddammit I liked it when you guys were at least trying to pretend like the sixteen-year-olds shouldn’t be here fdslkfjlk

anyway. for what it’s worth, at least we’ve got the only three people in the world who ever tried to surpass All Might standing up here ready to take on the guy whose strength and toughness is approximately the same as his. that’s something. I guess this really is our best shot

YES WE GET IT

“I GUESS IT CAN’T BE HELPED” should be the goddamn chapter title. either that or “SHRUG, CHILD SOLDIERS, I GUESS!!!”

anyway so he’s telling Deku and Kacchan not to ask for direction in one breath, and then giving them orders right away with the next

djsalfkj. welp. you heard him Kacchan. guard Deku no matter what. this will definitely end well

KLDSKFLKSHG MEANWHILE!!!

DON’T MIND HIM HE’S JUST POSSESSED BY A LITTLE BIT OF AFO-SOUL. NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT

oh man he actually looks freaked out??!

like he has no idea what happened just now. I’m sorry, up until this point were you thinking that having echo-y “wooooo... One for All... go get it~~” voices inside your head was perfectly normal?? lol boy he’s been playing you this whole time and he’s still playing you. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU IGNORE YOUR DEAD FAMILY’S EERIE DREAM WARNINGS. YOU GET POSSESSED

meanwhile!! both Deku and Tomura reacting at the same time! DO YOU BELIEVE ME THAT THEY SHARE A MENTAL LINK YET. hmm hmm hmm anyway

so now Tomura is straight up in denial!

sadly I’m growing more and more convinced that he’s wrong on all three accounts there. you may think it’s your power and your body...

and wait though, because this is the first time that the idea of him not being in control of his body has actually been brought up, isn’t it? so that’s a nice big red flag there! up until now the argument could be made that even if AFO’s will is manipulating Tomura from behind the scenes and influencing his decisions, there was nothing to indicate that AFO could potentially take over his entire body. but now that Tomura has brought it up as a possibility -- even if he’s in denial about it -- I’d say it’s not only possible, but extremely likely! so that’s a nice big thing looming on the horizon there

and it also in turn gives us a potential solution to the question of “how can this battle possibly end without all of the heroes dying and/or Tomura losing?” because one has to assume that Aizawa’s quirk is going to be taken out of the picture at some point, whether it’s because of him blinking at the wrong time or being shot with a bullet or what. at which point Tomura would basically become unstoppable again and be free to just destroy everything like he wants. but now this introduces the possibility of him potentially taking himself out of the picture for the time being. like if he realizes that he’s in danger of being outright possessed, I could see him leaving them for now and running off to go wage mental war with himself for a while, giving the heroes some time to regroup and lick their wounds. so that’s interesting to think about

holy shit!!

okay so just a couple of things I want to take note of here before we read on

“I don’t want to become like you” -- I think we can take this as confirmation that Tomura will fight against AFO if and when he realizes he’s being manipulated. his loyalty to him isn’t completely blind. so that could have some potentially huge implications moving forward

this image of Tomura being on the inside of AFO’s body, in what looks to be the same mental landscape from chapter 270, though. ...yeah. just who is really in charge, here

anyway so his next thought on page 11 is “I want to be even greater than you”, echoing Deku (and Kacchan’s) desire to be even greater than All Might, which is yet another nice parallel between them

and he’s basically telling the AFO voice inside him to shut up now, as if it will actually listen

yep. you want to go after One for All for your own deeply personal reasons. not following your master’s whims at all, nope. you are your own man

so now finally Gran is getting in on the action!

no idea why he want after the arm though. as if a broken arm ever stopped anyone in this fucking manga

OOOH NANA NAME DROP

???? um??? your dead grandma??? remember???!! don’t tell me you don’t at least recognize your own fucking last name there?? that is significant and don’t try to tell me otherwise! and in a chapter about you being rebellious and trying to defy AFO’s will, besides!!

holy shit

1. THE GRAN/TOSHINORI FATHER/SON FEELS I WASN’T READY!!, and 2. HOLY SHIT THIS OLD MAN IS RIPPED, THOUGH

AND HERE COMES ENDEAVOR NOW TO RUIN EVERYTHING SOMEHOW, PROBABLY

I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT FACE MEANS BUT IT SURE AS HELL ISN’T A GOOD FACE I CAN TELL YOU THAT

OH NO SOMEHOW DEKU GOT INVOLVED AGAIN LOL

DIDN’T I TELL YOU IT WAS A NEVERENDING LOOP OF A FIGHT. SO NEXT UP IS KACCHAN JOINING IN AND THEN ALMOST DYING AGAIN

OH MY GOD

NEVER. ENDING. LOOP oh god oh god. next time don’t loudly shout “HE’S JUST THE BAIT” before launching your surprise attack you dingus!!

HOLY MOLY

OKAY BUT

I don’t know about you but I am hella impressed that he managed a blast like that without blowing his own fucking arm off

with the exception of that one time he got all excited and tried to vaporize Todoroki during the sports festival, we have almost never seen Katsuki go all out against anyone, and the possibility that we might be about to see it now is THRILLING. I AM THRILLED

NOW WE’RE CUTTING TO ENDEAVOR AND HE’S FLASHING BACK TO THE SHORT SPEECH ALL MIGHT GAVE HIM WAY BACK WHEN ABOUT THEM BEING DIFFERENT AND ABOUT HOW ENDEAVOR SHOULD FIND HIS OWN PATH RATHER THAN TRYING TO BE THE SAME KIND OF SYMBOL AS ALL MIGHT. AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THIS IS OR WHY IT’S BEING BROUGHT UP NOW BUT OH GOLLY!

(ETA: I guess it might be because Endeavor -- unlike All Might -- isn’t facing Tomura alone but is working together with the kids to do this combo? like it’s a teamwork thing? I don’t really know lol I’ll think on it some more.)

LOL WHAT

WHAT IS HAPPENING. lol everything is either being exploded or on fire

KFFLSLLK “MEANWHILE”?????

OH NO OH GOD

SIGHING OUT LOUD AGAIN!! not because I’m disappointed to cut away from the Kacchan Loses His Quirk Battle (in due time!!), but because this means that yet again I’m going to have to spend a chapter worrying about Horikoshi killing off one of the TWELVE remaining living female pro hero characters he has, of which one is a healer, another is retired and working as a secretary, yet another only seems to do TV commercials, yet another another currently has... I want to say two limbs?? but I’m not even sure anymore, and lastly two more yet anothers are currently WHEREABOUTS UNKNOWN and MAY ALREADY BE DEAD. so if you’re counting, that’s a full HALF of what was already maybe only a fifth of the total pro hero population in general

all of which is to say that IF YOU SO MUCH AS LAY A FINGER ON MT. LADY I WILL FUCKING END YOU HORIKOSHI. we are NOT HAVING THAT. you hear me?? YOU CAN’T SPEND ALL OF YOUR FREE TIME DRAWING MIRKO ALL OVER THE PLACE AND BEING ALL “I FUCKING LOVE GIRL POWER” ONLY TO GO AND BE ALL “OH BUT I KILLED MT. LADY THOUGH WHOOPS”!! DO YOU HEAR ME?? THIS AIN’T IT

sigh. and yet why do I have a very bad feeling about this. hopefully I’m just overreacting. please don’t sully this amazing arc!! MANGA GODS, I OFFER YOU THIS PRAYER

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gravelyhumerus · 3 years

Text

“just like a folk song (our love will be passed on)”

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Relationship: Jemily

Summary: Pregnant? Off a one-night hookup that convinced her that the relationship wouldn’t go anywhere? Impossible. Improbable. Unlikely.

Word count: 3,086

Read it on AO3

Chapter One, Chapter Two

Content warning: mentions of Emily’s abortion and discussions of some canon typical violence.

Sitting at the edge of Emily’s large, porcelain bathtub, JJ wrung her hands. She hadn’t planned to take the pregnancy test that morning, but she had barely slept the night before. Her anxious thoughts kept her tossing and turning, wondering if she was pregnant or not.

What would she even do if she was pregnant? What would she say to Emily?

It was their first weekend off in over a month, and instead of relaxing with her girlfriend, JJ was more stressed than she was when she was actively chasing down the worst of humanity. An unsub holding a gun to her head was not nearly as terrifying as this moment, as JJ sat and waited for the little plus or minus to tell her whether she was going to have a baby.

The test rested on the tub next to her. JJ kept her eyes away from it, watching the two minute timer tick down on her phone.

Emily spoke from just outside of the bathroom: “Hey, are you struggling with the shower again? I know it’s annoying, I can turn it on for you.”

JJ stiffened, realizing that she hadn’t turned the water on yet. She had told Emily she was showering as a cover for taking the test, then she hadn’t done the one thing that would hide the truth.

She hated keeping all of this from Emily. Even when they were just friends, JJ found herself telling Emily everything. But, she still wasn’t sure how on earth she would tell Emily about the situation, either way.

The profiler knocked again and said: “JJ?”

JJ tried to speak but let out a strangled noise, her voice unexpectedly thick with emotion.

“Are you ok?” Emily asked. “Are you still not feeling well?”

The door opened a crack.

“Can I come in?” Her voice was soft, caring. The sound of it felt like a hug.

“Yeah,” JJ managed.

Emily stood in the doorframe, taking in the scene in front of her, her eyes filled with concern. She looked JJ up and down, then flicked around the room until they rested on the pregnancy test.

“Oh,” Emily said.

JJ could see the thoughts racing through Emily’s mind. The brunette’s brow furrowed as she processed the information. Then, Emily seemed to make up her mind, walking towards JJ and sitting on the toilet seat lid. She took JJ’s hand in hers.

“Is it mine?” Emily asked as a hint of a smile pulled on her lips.

JJ let out a sigh of relief at how calm Emily was with being confronted by her maybe-pregnant girlfriend in her bathroom.

The timer went off on her phone. Emily squeezed JJ’s hands tightly. It was time to look.

“I’m pregnant.”

———

Three tests later JJ was very much pregnant, and Emily was not quite sure what to say. They had just started to date, and she had no idea what this meant for them.

When Emily asked how this all came to be, JJ explained that she had only spent one night with Will, back when she and Emily had just been friends. It was a relief to hear, especially when fearing the worst, but it didn’t make the whole situation any less complicated.

Emily was forcing herself to tuck all her feelings away to be there for JJ through this, even if only as a friend. She would be whatever JJ needed.

As the frenzy of the tests subsided, the two women sat in silence eating the scrambled eggs that Emily had managed to make for lunch. She wasn’t a good cook, but she felt the need to keep busy and keep her whirlwind of a brain at bay. JJ had a panicked look in her eyes. She was almost vibrating with anxiety, so Emily tried to keep her calm if only with her presence.

But there was only so much she could do before the questions came tumbling out of her mouth.

Emily decided to give JJ an out. A free, no hard feelings free pass out of the relationship. JJ was pregnant for God's sake, she wouldn’t want to stay with Emily. She just needed to let JJ go. Their relationship was new, barely started. It would be a clean break.

“You should call him,” Emily said, her voice calm, measured. “Tell him about it.”

JJ’s eyes shot up, and she squinted at Emily in confusion.

“Why? I’d rather talk about what this means for us.”

“What do you mean by us?”

JJ set her fork down on her plate and reached across Emily’s wooden kitchen table.

“You’re my girlfriend, Emily,” JJ said.

Emily blinked. They weren’t over after all.

“Oh my god, Emily, no,” JJ said, standing up and walking over to her. Her hands grasped Emily’s face to pull her into a kiss. “Did you think–”

“I thought that you wouldn’t want...” Emily gestured vaguely, “Me, I guess.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” JJ said, kissing Emily’s forehead.

JJ pulled away, wrapping her arms around Emily’s neck. In exchange, Emily rested her hands on JJ’s hips.

“I just,” JJ said, her voice almost a whisper, “I don't really know what to do. This is a lot. For me, for us.”

“Think about it,” Emily suggested. “You don’t need to make any decisions when the information is fresh. You’re probably still in shock.”

An unspoken understanding passed between them. Emily knew exactly what JJ was going through. But instead of being a struggling sixteen year old in Rome, she was a 27 year old FBI agent with a stable job, a home and a girlfriend. Still, Emily knew that fear and uncertainty intimately. No matter the circumstances, it was absolutely terrifying.

“You’re right,” JJ said.

JJ pressed a soft kiss onto her girlfriend’s forehead. Emily’s eyes flickered closed as she leaned into the gesture.

“Thank you for being you, Emily.”

———

That night, both agents lay awake late into the night. The only light came from the streetlights below them, illuminating the room in a dim warm glow. The familiar sounds of the busy Washington, DC streets were faintly audible. It was peaceful, yet the weight of the day’s events was heavy on their minds.

JJ’s blonde hair tickled Emily’s nose as she buried her face in her golden locks. Her arms wrapped around her girlfriend's smaller frame, their bodies fit together perfectly. While JJ’s breath came evenly, Emily could tell that she was still awake.

Emily’s fingers were intertwined with JJ’s, and the media liaison rubbed her thumb along the back of Emily’s hand. The gesture was subtle, but let her know that JJ wanted her there, wanted her to stay close.

The whole day brought back memories for Emily. Hard memories. But it wasn’t about her, it was about JJ. She needed to keep it together.

JJ wasn’t some lost teenager like Emily was. They would be okay, no matter what. At least, that was how Emily reassured herself.

Emily didn’t regret her abortion at all. She was able to live her full life because of it. She wouldn’t have made it to where she was now, without her friend Matthew. When she closed her eyes, she could almost picture him with his floppy hair and earnest eyes, squeezing her hand, telling her it was all going to be okay. That was the beginning of the end of her drought relationship with religion, because she knew people like her weren’t welcome there.

She knew JJ hadn’t grown up with the same religious upbringing that she had. Sure, the Jareaus went to church on Easter and Christmas, but Emily knew she wasn’t raised in the same strict Catholic environment like she experienced with Elizabeth Prentiss, especially when they lived in Rome. Not that that made the decision any easier, but at least the weight on JJ’s shoulders wouldn’t be as heavy.

Maybe JJ would choose not to have the baby. It was an accident, after all. And with their relationship still in its infancy, there was a lot that could go wrong. That didn’t even factor in that they were FBI agents who fly across the country every few weeks.

Keeping it was a whole other issue. Emily had thought of having children, had always wanted to. With every case involving an orphaned child or one in foster care, something inside of Emily yearned to just take the child in her arms and protect it from the world.

“I think it's a good idea, though,” JJ had said to her on the jet.

“What's that?” Emily asked, looking across at the blonde.

“You. Kids. I can see it.”

The comment made something in Emily’s stomach flutter.

“Yeah?”

JJ nodded. Emily looked out the window, deep in thought. At the time, she wouldn’t let herself imagine that with JJ, it seemed so far fetched. So impossible.

Now, with JJ in her arms. Emily could see it too.

“Either way, no matter what,” Emily found herself whispering before she even planned what she was going to say. “Just know that I’m not going anywhere.”

Emily squeezed JJ tightly, kissing her shoulder and smiling. She meant it. There was something about their relationship, albeit newly established, that felt so right.

JJ didn’t react at first, and for a moment, Emily wondered if she had fallen asleep. Then, she heard JJ swallow before speaking.

“I’ve always wanted to be a mom,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Emily pulled her closer.

#criminal minds #jemily #cm #criminal minds tv #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #prentiss x jj #jemily cm #emily prentiss x jennifer jareau #my post #my writing #gravelyhumerus cm baby au #fanfic #fanfiction #i promise my college au will get an update soon #the next chapters just a bit complicated #for now my baby wants to write soft baby fic idk

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rosemaidenvixen · 3 years

Text

A Secret’s Worth

Chapter 18: Barbara

Ao3

Content warning: graphic description of injuries, mentions of violence

“Dr. Lake that was the Blood Bank, they really want their cooler back,”

Barbara winced, three hours ago she’d had an eighty year old patient come in with a GI bleed and an H and H of 4 g/dl and 11%. She’d only just gotten them stable after a lot of frantic work and two emergency issue units of O Neg. Keeping track of the blood cooler had been the last thing on her mind.

But it would not pay to get on the Blood bank’s bad side. They were highly protective of their blood coolers, and they remembered everything.

“It should be in room three, if not let me know and I’ll help you look for it,”

The RN nodded once and then headed off in search of the wayward cooler.

Barbara waited a few more seconds before she allowed herself to lean back in her seat and take a sip of her water. The ED had finally calmed down to the point that she could afford to slip away from the floor and take a breather. Hopefully things would stay quiet enough that she could spend her fifteen minutes in peace.

Apparently that was too much to ask because four minutes into her break someone else was poking their head into the break room.

“Dr. Lake?” it was Miranda, the charge nurse for the ED who had been there twice as long as she had.

Barbara bit the inside of her cheek and forced her tone to be light “Yes?”

“We have an assault victim in the ED,”

The beginnings of a frown pulled at her lips. An assault victim, but not a full trauma that would require all hands on deck. If that had been the case they would have announced it over the intercom.

“Is Dr. Jenkins available to take care of them?”

“He is-- and he’s actually looking him over right now,”

This time Barbara let the frown show on her face “Then what do you need me for?” she was trying her darndest not to snap at Miranda, but for goodness sakes, she knew how precious their breaks were.

“That’s...that’s not why I came here,” Miranda dropped her gaze, taking a deep breath before she met Barbara’s eyes again “The assault victim...it’s...it’s Jim,”

For a moment time stood still, Barbara not registering what she had just heard. A few seconds staring at the pained expression on Miranda’s face was what it took for the truth to sink in.

The paper cup slipped from her fingers as she practically jumped out of her chair, heartbeat in her throat and limbs tingling with electricity. Barely heard water splashing against the linoleum past the roaring in her ears.

Suddenly taking a break was the last thing on her mind.

“Where is he?”

“Exam room twelve, and I already talked to Sue, she says you’re good to take the rest of your shift off,”

Barbara was already out the door and moving “Thank you,”

Miranda gave her a nod just before she disappeared from sight as Barbara dashed around the corner.

An assault victim. Jim. Her Jim. Not a full trauma, she would have heard. His life wasn’t at risk. But that didn’t mean it couldn’t be very very bad.

Glancing to the right, she kept an eye on the door numbers ticking by as she sprinted down the hall.

Eighteen, sixteen, fourteen, twelve--

Barbara stopped short, hands flying over her mouth, stifling her horrified gasp into a low whimper.

Jim was sitting on the exam room table holding an ice pack to his temple, blue jacket splattered in dark stains that could only be blood. She couldn’t see his face clearly, Dr. Jenkins stood between them examining Jim’s scalp while a large man in sweatpants loitered in the corner, twisting a baseball cap in his hands and watching Jim and Jenkins with an anxious look on his face.

As troubling as the sight was, it did give her a small measure of relief.

If Jim’s injuries were critical he wouldn’t be conscious and sitting upright. The fact that he was cognizant enough to sit there and calmly let Jenkins examine him was good news in and of itself.

Unfortunately that still left a lot of room for some very serious possibilities.

Stuffing her fears onto a shell of clinical composure, Barbara pulled open the door and stepped into the room “D-- Dr. Jenkins, how bad is it?”

All three of them turned towards her, allowing Barbara to see the full extent of Jim’s injuries. The sight hit her like a fist to the gust, nearly making her stagger.

Jenkins had no doubt cleaned the worst of it up, but it still looked awful. From the neck up Jim’s skin was punctuated by splashes of bright red where the skin was ripped open. Wounds ranging in size from short, thin cuts to gashes the size of a silver dollar. Most of them were already scabbed over, but some were fresh and oozing neon red blood. The skin that wasn’t torn and bleeding was mottled with inky dark bruises, colored in every shade from indigo to black. Both of his lips were split, his nose crooked; both puffed up to twice their normal size.

Jim lowered the ice pack, revealing that one of his eyes was swollen shut as well, and sluggishly looked over at her. His right eye, the only visible one, was bleary and unfocused, that was probably from--

“Did you give him morphine?”

Jenkins stammered for a moment before recovering “Ah uh yes, I did,”

“Did you check--”

“Dr. Lake,” Jenkins’ tone was soft but firm, his gaze even more so.

Barbara flushed.

Jenkins had been at the clinic for over seven years. He was every inch as skilled as she was; undercutting him like this was unprofessional, unhelpful, and downright rude.

Right now Jenkins was the doctor. Barbara’s job was to be a mother and be there for Jim.

“I-- I’m sorry,”

He let out a breath, shoulders relaxing “That’s ok, no harm done, fortunately I can tell you right now that Jim does not have a concussion and all of his cuts are superficial, and should heal with minimal scarring,”

A massive weight lifted off her chest.

“That’s...that’s good to hear,”

“Uh loth a ooth an muh nuz,” Jim mumbled from the bench.

“Don’t try to talk, you could make your injuries worse,” Jenkins looked back towards Barbara, uncomfortable “However he did loose a tooth and I believe his nose is broken,”

Barbara’s stomach sank another inch.

“I’m just about done cleaning and dressing his injuries, once I’ve finished I can give you a more complete run down,”

She nodded slowly, willing the adrenaline to flow away as she stepped towards the exam table “Jim, hon, I know you’re probably feeling pretty lousy right now, but is there anything we can do for you?”

Jim lifted his head and shook it once, raising the ice pack back over his swollen eye.

Barbara had to swallow hard to keep the twisting feeling in her belly under control “Dr. Jenkins needs to finish looking you over, but I’ll be right here if you need anything,”

He looked her in the eye and nodded again. Barbara gently took one of Jim’s hands in her own, giving his fingers a light squeeze. Looking back over towards Jenkins, she met his eyes and then inclined her head towards Jim, giving him the go-ahead to continue.

Taking the queue, Jenkins stepped back up and once again took Jim’s scalp in his hands “Ok Jim remember, some pressure is normal, but if you feel any sharp pain let me know…”

Barbara stood vigil while Jenkins dressed Jim’s injuries. Cleaning the skin with a damp cloth, Jim hissing as he did, closing the smaller cuts with butterfly bandages, taping gauze over the worst of them.

She forced herself to watch in silence, if Jenkins wanted her opinion he would ask for it, keeping her attention focused on Jim himself.

These weren’t injuries from just a punch or two, someone had come after Jim with a frightening amount of violence. But who? And what exactly had happened? Jim should have been at school, had another student done this to him?

Curious, she glanced over at Jim’s hands, both the one holding the ice pack and the one in her grasp. The skin over both of them was completely intact, untouched by bruises or cuts.

“Alright I think I’ve got everything taken care of for now,” Jenkins stepped back and peeled off his gloves, gaze flickering between Barbara and Jim “Ok Jim, next I’d like to take you to get some x-rays done. I want to see if there’s any other bone damage beyond what we can see in your nose, quite frankly I’m concerned about the possibility if a le fort fracture,”

Even though her guts were curdling at the thought of Jim dealing with a le fort fracture, Barbara nevertheless stayed composed and nodded tersely at his words “Ok,”

Jenkins let out a gusty sigh, running a hand through his hair “I’ll level with you Jim, we’re probably going to be keeping you overnight for observation,”

Her heart stopped “I-- I’m sorry, what?”

“Just as a precaution,” Jenkins raised a placating hand, misunderstanding the cause of her distress “I don’t want to risk aggravating any fractures, after we get the x rays back we’ll know a little bit more and be able to come up with a game plan,”

For his part Jim hadn’t reacted at all, most likely too out of it from the injuries and painkillers. But Barbara was doing enough panicking for two.

They couldn’t. That wasn’t an option. If Jim stayed in the hospital overnight everyone would see-- Oh god what if he actually needed surgery to repair some fractures? How would they even--

With tremendous force of will, Barbara smothering her rising panic and schooled her features to show only the appropriate amount of concern while she helped Jim to his feet.

Now was not the time to lose her cool, and there was a chance Jim would be discharged before sundown and she would have nothing to worry about. The only thing she knew for certain at the moment was that Jim needed to get those x-rays done.

With her guiding arm around his shoulders, she was able to pull a sluggish Jim to the door, following along behind Jenkins. They headed down the hall to the ED’s imaging room, Barbara easing Jim down into one of the waiting chairs when they got there. Jenkins poked his head into the room, exchanging words with one of the techs.

“It should just be a minute while they get everything ready,”

Jim leaned back in his chair with a groan, Barbara laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Umm...excuse me, Dr. Lake,”

Startled, Barbara looked over to see the large man she’d first noticed in the exam room, with everything that had been going on she’d all but forgotten he was here.

“I’m, uh….Coach Lawrence, from your son’s school. Do you mind if we talk for a bit?” his eyes flitted back and forth “Somewhere private?”

“I’m not sure if….” Barbara glanced back.

Jenkins gave her a nod “Go ahead, I’ll take care of Jim while we wait for the x-ray,”

Her gaze flickered over to Jim, who gave her a single affirmative nod.

Pulling her professional shell tight around her, Barbara turned back towards Lawrence “Ok, let’s step over into the lounge,”

They hustled to the small room at the end of the hall, Barbara shutting the door behind them “What happened to my son?”

Lawrence flinched “Jim was...in an altercation with another student,”

“An altercation? You mean a fight!?”

He flushed “Yes-- ummm…a fight,”

Despite being incredibly anxious about the extent of Jim’s injuries, and terrified of the possibility that he might need to be admitted, Barbara still found room to be absolutely furious.

“I saw his hands, they were completely clean; no cuts, no bruises, no defensive wounds. This wasn’t a fight, my son didn’t throw a single punch,”

With every word she said Lawrence squirmed even more “You’re….you’re not wrong, in any case principal Levit and superintendent Kuhn would like to have a a meeting tomorrow morning, to go over exactly what happened, with both boys and their parents present,”

Barbara could feel her face darken “You want my son in the same room as the boy who did that to him?”

Despite the fact that he towered above her Lawrence was shrinking under her gaze “The superintendent wants everyone involved there,” he jabbered out in a high pitched voice “Steve, the other student involved, is...also making accusations,”

Her heart skipped a beat. Steve, that was a name Barbara had heard before.

Standing a little taller now, Lawrence continued “But both myself and a police officer will be present at this meeting to ensure everyone’s safety,”

Barbara sucked in a deep breath through her nose. She was not pleased at hearing this. But now, especially now, she needed to pick and choose her battles carefully.

“Fine, we’ll be there,”

Lawrence looked surprised at how quickly she agreed, but nevertheless nodded gratefully “Alright then, I’ll send you an email with more details,” he took half a step towards the door and paused “I’m...I’m sorry, I should have prevented this, but I failed and a student go hurt on my watch,”

He turned back, glint of steel in his eyes “And I promise, I will not let anything happen to Jim at tomorrow’s meeting.

Momentarily caught off guard, it took Barbara a few seconds to find her tongue “Th-- That sounds good, I’ll see you tomorrow,”

Lawrence nodded in acknowledgement before he turned and left, heading out the door and walking away down the hall.

Barbara let out a breath, and then pulled one in. Breathe for five, hold for five, exhale for five; repeat.

Steadier now, Barbara headed out of the break room and back towards imaging. Seeing the waiting chair empty and the In-Use sign lit up, she discreetly stepped through the side door that lead into the observation booth. Jenkins was there, along with the tech, and through the window she could see Jim laying on the table with the x-ray machine hovering above him.

She and Jenkins locked eyes and nodded in silent greeting as she stepped up to his side. Watching Jim lying back with the large machine looming as it beamed radiation into his skull. But one glance at the clock on the wall was all it took to remind her of what was at stake.

They had a little time left, but not much.

Jenkins had mentioned he was mostly thinking about keeping him overnight to avoid aggravating his injuries. Maybe she could convince him that taking Jim home where he could relax would be better for him mentally? No, that wouldn’t be well received. Jenkins would interpret that as Barbara undercutting his professional opinion. Which to be fair, it was. But that meant she had to consider…

“Have you decided what to prescribe him yet?” she whispered

Jenkins gave a little start of surprise “Some ibuprofen for the pain and inflammation, along with antibiotics to prevent infection,”

“Would it be alright if you wrote it out now so I can go pick it up?”

“Don’t you want to….” his gaze slid over to where Jim was lying on the x-ray table.

Barbara had to strain to keep her tone light, already feeling slimy from the lie she was about to tell to someone she trusted and respected a great deal “I know Jim’s in good hands with you, I just need to take a step back and clear my head,”

Jenkins relaxed, making the weight of guilt on her chest triple, and pulled out his prescription pad, quickly scribbling on it before handing the top slip over “Ok then Dr. Lake, we’ll finish up here and meet you back in the exam room,”

She thanked him and then hurried out of the room and towards the pharmacy at the other end of the hospital, praying there wouldn’t be a line. In a miraculous stroke of luck the pharmacy was nearly empty, and Barbara was able to get Jim’s medicine in record time.

Rushing back to the exam room, paper bag tucked safely under her arm and throat tightening when she saw the time, Barbara stepped in and saw Jim once again sitting on the exam table talking with Jenkins.

The other doctor turned at the sound of the door opening

“Oh Dr. Lake, you’re just in time. I just got the x-ray results back, we were waiting for you to discuss them,”

She managed to give him a weak smile as she stepped to Jim’s side “Thank you, so what are we looking at?”

Beaming, Jenkins stepped over to where the black and white images were already set up in the illuminator “I’ve got good news,” he traced a finger just under where Jim’s left eye would be “Both of the orbital sockets and zygomatic arches are completely intact, and I see no signs of a le fort fracture,”

Cool relief washed over her, practically knocking Barbara off her feet. Sockets and arches intact, no le fort fracture. It wasn’t as bad as it could be “That’s really good to hear,”

Jenkins flashed her a small grin, before his expression quickly turned somber “However your nose is indeed broken,” he pointed to the image on the far left, where sure enough, the nasal bone was clearly separated from the frontal bone by a large fissure.

“And there is some cracking along the angle of your mandible,” he moved his fingers to trace the image of Jim’s jaw. Barbara had to squint this time, but the cracks were there.

Lowering his hand, Jenkins turned to face them fully “You’ll have to get looked over by a specialist, I think Dr. Nahreini might be available, but there is a change that these might need to be corrected with surgery,”

Barbara fought not to react to those words “Do you know how soon we can see Dr. Nahreini?”

Jenkins rubbed his chin thoughtfully “I’m not sure, I’d have to check his schedule, although, assuming surgery isn’t needed, the absolute soonest he could be able to correct these would be tomorrow,”

Her heartbeat skyrocketed. That was not good, there was still a chance Jenkins wouldn’t keep Jim overnight, but they were out of time and the risks were too high for her to take that gamble. Which left Barbara with only one option. Just the thought of what she was about to do was almost enough to make her physically ill, but she had no other choice.

Not unless she wanted Jim’s transformations exposed to the entire hospital.

“Do you mind looking at his schedule right now? I’d like to be able to make a plan as soon as possible,”

Jenkins raised an eyebrow at her, but he looked curious rather than suspicious “Ok then, I’ll be right back,”

She smiled and nodded as he stepped out the door, even as her pulse pounded in her ears, the smile dropping off her face the second he left. Barbara waited half a minute before cautiously peeking her head out the door. When she saw the hallway was empty she knew they had to move fast.

“Ok Jim we need to go, up up up,”

Jim looked confused, or perhaps he was still in a daze from the morphine, but nevertheless complied and got to his feet.

After one more glance up and down the hall and then Barbara was hurrying out of the room, steering Jim in front of her by the shoulders.

With every step her heartbeat ratcheted up a notch, terrified that someone would see her and ask what the hell she was doing. They managed to get to the parking lot without incident, although seeing the sun touching the horizon did give her a miniature MI.

“Ok sweetie just lie down in the back seat now,”

After she opened the door for him Jim flopped down on the back seat; groaning and clutching his jaw. Barbara winced and hustled into the driver’s seat. Ice settling in her ribcage and creeping out through her veins as she started the car and pulled out of the parking lot and into the street.

And despite the fact that the sun would be down in a matter of minutes and this was the only way to keep Jim’s secret from being exposed. The guilt of what she’d just done, both as a mother and a doctor, pounded into her like a hammer.

This is abuse. Depriving children of medical care is abuse. And you should know, didn’t your own mother refuse to get you glasses until high school.

Barbara jerked in her seat when she saw the flash of motion in the rearview mirror and heard a whine of protest from the carseats. Jim’s groans becoming husky.

The chill in her blood somehow became even colder. Suddenly she was very aware of each and every other car on the road, of the people walking on the sidewalk not six feet away.

Please don’t let anyone notice. Please just let us get home safe.

There would be consequences for this. Severe consequences. She may even lose her job, and honestly Barbara deserved much worse. But that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was keeping Jim safe.

The twenty minute drive felt like a lifetime, but finally she was pulling into their garage, door lowering shut behind them.

The second the door shut for good Barbara allowed herself only one deep, shuddering breath, to dispel the frost in her chest, then she was up and out of her seat. Going around and reaching in to help Jim extract himself from the back of the car.

“That’s it honey, inside to the couch, we’re almost there,”

They were home now. There would be a reckoning for what Barbara had done, but for now they were safe.

She managed to herd Jim inside towards the living room, where he promptly collapsed on the couch with a grunt, raising the ice pack back over his eye. The constriction from his now too small clothes couldn’t be helping anything. But helping Jim into more comfortable clothes would have to wait until she took care of more pressing matters.

While Jim settled himself on the couch, Barbara gave him a once over. From what she could tell at a glance it didn’t look like the shift to his blue form had made Jim’s facial injuries any worse, of course it hadn’t made them any better either. The swelling looked strange transferred over to more angular features. Blue skin giving all of his bruises a navy cast. But what shocked her the most was that, while the bits of old dried blood on his skin were still rusty brown, the fluid leaking from his uncovered cuts was a brilliant, royal blue.

Barbara could spend time puzzling over the implications of that later, right now she had bigger fish to fry.

Scurrying into the kitchen, Barbara grabbed a glass from the cabinet and ripped open the prescription bag. First Jim needed to take a dose of painkillers. He was already probably coming down from the morphine they gave him at the clinic, so she needed to get the ibuprofen into his system as fast as possible. Especially if he wanted any chance at sleep tonight.

“uh...muh,”

Barbara unscrewed the cap from the first bottle and looked down at the tiny pills. Should she alter the dosage to Jim’s new height and weight? No, she didn’t know near enough about these drugs or Jim’s nighttime physiology to risk playing with medications. They’d just have to give him the prescribed dosage and hope for the best.

“Muh,”

Her eyes flickered back towards the glass she’d pulled out. Jim shouldn’t have any of these on an empty stomach. But solid foods were out of the question. Water was good but he should have something substantial to. Broth maybe? Applesauce? But right now neither of those things were palatable to him. He really liked motor oil when he was blue but Barbara had no idea how nutritious that actually--

“Mah!”

She snapped her head over towards the couch. Jim was lying propped up against the end, working his jaw to try and form words.

“Sweetie sweetie--” Barbara hurried over towards his side “Don’t talk right now, we don’t know how badly your jaw was damaged, any kind of talking or movement could make things worse,”

Jim slackened against the couch, only for one arm to fumble for the notebook and sharpie on the coffee table. Grabbing them, he scribbled something on the notebook and then flipped it around.

This ok?

“Yes that should be fine,”

Although now Barbara wished they were both fluent in ASL, that would make this a lot smoother. And she didn’t know if it was the morphine wearing off or the shift to his blue form, but it was clear from the focus in his eyes and the alertness in his posture, that Jim was now completely lucid.

“You just lie there and try to relax, I’m going to get you your medicine and then--”

A hand on her wrist stopped her from heading into the kitchen.

Barbara immediately turned back to face him “Jim, what is it? Do you need something?”

He looked up and met her eyes, and despite the swelling and the bruises and the overall shift of Jim’s features into something other than human, one look at her son’s face and Barbara could tell that he was completely heartbroken.

I need to tell you something

Barbara pulled into the school parking lot, glancing at Jim from the corner of her eye, nose freshy reset and bandaged.

This morning they’d gone back to the hospital as early as they could, where Jenkins and Nahreini were waiting for them. Like she knew they would be in the very strongly worded email Jenkins had sent her last night.

The only positive things about their return visit was that Nahreini had been able to reset Jim’s nose by hand under local anesthesia. And he’d determined from the CT scan that surgery, or even getting the mandible fixed in place, wouldn’t be necessary. Just rest and a liquid diet.

Although they did have to be at the dentist at noon to get Jim’s missing tooth checked out.

Nahreini had volunteered to go with Jim to the dentist, claiming that he needed to make sure the dentist was fully aware of the damage on Jim’s jaw, but the way he’d looked at Barbara while he said it made it clear that this was less of a favor and more that he didn’t trust her to make appropriate choices regarding Jim’s medical treatment.

She’d taken him up on the offer all the same.

The rest of her coworkers hadn’t said anything, but the way they’d looked at her had said it all.

They’d looked at her like she was one of those parents. That thought they knew better than the trained medical professionals. One of those doctors. That developed an ego and refused to work as a team.

And even if Jenkins hadn’t made it explicitly clear to her in the hallway while Nahreini was resetting Jim’s nose, there was an email burning a hole in her inbox.

While Jim was at the dentist this afternoon, Barbara would be sitting down with the medical director to discuss her future at Arcadia Oaks Medical Center.

Needless to say Barbara wasn’t looking forward to that, quite frankly she was still amazed that they’d cleared them to go to this meeting at the school in the first place. Of course this meeting wasn’t anything she was looking forward to either.

Last night Jim had managed to give her the full story of what happened through notes scrawled on the notebook he now carried with him everywhere.

Some of the things he’d told her had been more or less what Barbara expected, but some of it had shaken her to her core.

Even over twelve hours later she was still reeling.

Barbara glanced over to Jim in the passenger seat “You ready?”

Looking up, he gave a curt nod.

Forcing down the lump in her throat, she stepped out of the car, Jim following, and headed into the building. It was the same as it had been last September, right down to the sour faced receptionist directing them into a large conference room.

Everyone else was already there. A balding man with a bushy mustache that she knew to be principal Levit sitting at the table with a gray haired woman, presumably superintendent Kuhn, by his side. A laptop along with several stacks of papers on the table in front of them. Lawrence and a woman in a police officer’s uniform standing behind them. Sitting across from them was a blonde boy, arms folded and glaring out the window, and a blonde woman right next to him. Steve and his mother. Next to them were two empty chairs awaiting their arrival.

Their heads swivelled towards them at the sound of the door opening “Oh good you’re here,” Levit gestured towards the empty chairs “Please have a seat, we’re just about to get started,”

Barbara nodded in acknowledgement as she and Jim took their seats, Barbara next to Steve’s mother and Jim on her other side, the boys separated by the two women. Unsurprisingly, Jim’s numerous bruises and bandages drew stares from everyone in the room.

“So uh…..Jim,” Lawrence said slowly “You doing better?”

Jim flipped a few pages on his notebook and held it up.

Can’t talk jaw busted

The awkward atmosphere in the room intensified.

“Oh-- ummm….ok,”

For a few seconds they all sat in complete silence. Levit glanced from side to side at the four people in front of him and let out a husky sigh.

“Barbara Lake, Naomi Palchuk, glad to see you here, although I wish we were meeting under better circumstances,”

His gaze flickered back and forth between the two of them again, before he sucked in a deep breath and netted his fingers in front of him “Let’s get right to it. Yesterday after Mr. Lake spilled the contents of his backpack in the hallway Mr. Palchuk came over and began….teasing him,” Levit paused, seeming to struggle for the right words “In response Mr. Lake lashed out verbally, after which Mr. Palchuk lashed out physically. Do both of you agree that this summary of events is accurate?”

“Yes,” Barbara replied, that lined up with what Jim had told her.

“Yes, we do,” Naomi parroted.

Both of their sons stayed silent.

Levit glanced over to Kuhn, the two of them sharing an uncomfortable look, before Levit turned back to them “Are either of you aware of the existence of a video?”

Naomi’s eyes went huge “A video?”

“N-- no I’m not,” Barbara stammered out.

This was news to her, Jim hadn’t mentioned any kind of video.

Levit grimaced before opening his laptop “Yesterday evening it came to our attention that someone had taken a video recording of the incident and posted it online, where it’s already started circulating through the community,” after tapping at the keyboard a few times he turned the laptop towards them “ I would like to show this video to you in the interest of full disclosure, although if you don’t want to watch that is perfectly acceptable,”

“No,” Barbara said, forcing her voice to sound steadier than she felt “I want to see this,”

Grim faced, Naomi nodded along with her.

Mouth twisting in an effort to suppress a deep wince, Levit pressed play on the video. The footage was shaky and blurry, clearly done with a cell phone camera. It showed one of the school halls crowded with students, the occasional elbow or shoulder cutting into the view. Jim and Steve took up the majority of the screen, both of them looking quite hostile. Jim was getting up in his face and yelling, but between the loud hallway and the poor audio quality it was impossible to determine what he was saying. Then in a flash Steve swung up his fist and knocked Jim to the ground. Getting on top of him and punching him repeatedly in the face, teeth bared in a furious snarl. One of his punches landed with a sickening crack, blood spraying across the lockers. But Steve didn’t even slow down.

Barbara felt a hand fly over her mouth, from beside her she heard Naomi let out a gasp.

She couldn’t look away, the hole in her stomach getting deeper and deeper as she kept watching. Just looking at Jim’s injuries had given her a good idea of just how brutal the attack had been, but knowing didn’t prepare her for actually seeing it happening with her own two eyes.

Jim didn’t watch, silently staring down at the floor, although he had to have heard. Glancing over on impulse, Barbara saw that Steve was still staring out the window, jaw clenched and arms folded. But only now did she notice the bandages wrapped around his knuckles.

Steve had beaten Jim so viciously that he’d actually damaged his own hands.

On the screen Steve’s attack continued for about thirty seconds before a large blonde teacher swooped into frame and wrestled Steve off of Jim. Then the video cut abruptly and ended. Levit shut the laptop with a click “The school is still looking into who posted it and trying to get the video taken down, but you know how these things are once they get out there…”

Barbara did know. Once something was up on the internet it was out there forever. Now there was a video of her son being assaulted that was out there for all the world to see.

“Now Dr. Lake,” Kuhn sat up straighter and steepled her fingers “Typically we try to resolve these matters within the school, but given the severity of the situation I understand if you would want to press criminal charges,”

Her eyes briefly landed on the policewoman, who for her part remained impassive.

“If that is something you want to do you would have the school’s full cooperation. I only ask that you let us know what you decide to do as soon as possible,”

The room went silent, everyone watching Barbara with bated breath.

“I...I’m really not sure here,” Barbara said slowly “I would like to see what the school decides to do before I make my final decision,”

Levit nodded at her words “That seems fair. Jim, do you agree?”

Jim gave a quick nod in return.

“I’m sorry but given the circumstances we’re going to need an actual--”

A quick scribble of the sharpie and Jim was holding up another note.

I agree with everything my mom just said

Levit leaned back “Alright then, given that we all agree on how the events transpired, Lawrence and I--” the coach stepped up to his side “Would like to propose this course of action,”

He looked over and addressed Steve directly for the first time “Suspension for the rest of the school year, effective immediately, along with mandatory biweekly sessions with the school psychologist, starting this year and into the next,” Levit pulled a chunk of papers off the stack in front of him “Mr. Palchuk this means that you will not be allowed to attend class or any school activities until the start of the next school year in August. We will provide you with supplemental educational materials to keep up with your coursework for this semester and arrange for you to take your final exams at the district offices, in addition you will also start seeing the school psychologist there as well,”

Steve leaned forward, gripping the edge of the table and unintentionally putting the bandages on display “Ok...but I’ll still be able to play on the basketball team...right?”

Kuhn’s eyes narrowed “Sports teams are included under extracurricular activities, all of which you are not going to be allowed to attend,”

“B...but the finals are in two weeks!”

Lawrence stared down at him evenly “Then it looks like you’re going to miss them, you’ll have to try again next year,”

Steve’s face fell, he looked so sad and lost. And even though her own son was sitting next to her with a cracked jaw and broken nose; Barbara couldn’t help but feel a swell of pity for Steve.

He may have been the one who hurt Jim so badly he couldn’t see out of one eye, but he was just a child to. And what Jim had said to him….she couldn’t believe her own son was capable of being so cruel.

Her ribcage tightened.

No, with what Jim had just learned she absolutely believed he could.

Steve slammed a fist against the table, face flushed scarlet “But this isn’t fair!”

Barbara reflexively angled herself in front of Jim while Naomi placed two restraining hands on her own son. Jim didn’t react in the slightest, just kept hanging his head in silence.

“Steve please I know y--”

“But if he--” Steve stabbed an accusatory finger in Jim’s direction “Hadn’t pushed me! I never would have--”

“Banned,” Lawrence said stonily, folding his arms across his chest.

“W-- what?” Steve stammered out.

“Not only are you suspended for the rest of the year, but you won’t be coming back to the basketball team ever,” the chill in his voice was glacial “Not in two weeks, not next year, or any year after that,”

“But-- I-- you can’t--”

“That’s enough Palchuk!” Lawrence bellowed, causing everyone in the room except Jim to jump “Not only are you permanently barred from the basketball team, but if you put a single toe out of line, I’ll see you banned from every sports team in the district!”

“B-- buh--”

“And if you screw it up again,” Lawrence got up close, hands balled in fists at his sides, tone dropping dangerously low “Then we’ll start talking about real consequences,”

Steve sat there mouth gaping open and shut like a fish, shocked into silence.

“I’m going to give you a real hard truth Palchuk,” he stepped back and refolded his arms “In life there’s no trouble so deep that you can’t get yourself deeper. So if you don’t want this to get significantly worse than it already is. Stop. Digging.”

Steve sat back and shut his mouth. Face red.

Things were silent for a few beats before Naomi spoke up, voice brittle “Thank you, we find that punishment more than acceptable,”

Barbara gave a brusque nod “That sounds acceptable to me as well, I don’t think criminal charges need to be added on top of that,”

The school was taking this seriously. Besides, another investigation was the last thing she and Jim needed.

Naomi, Kuhn, and Levit all visibly relaxed at that, the principal glancing over towards Jim “Do you agree Jim?”

Once again he held up the note.

“And would you both agree to make official statements stating your decision to not press charges?” the policewoman spoke for the first time.

“Yes, we can do that today,”

Yes

“I believe that will be all for you Ms. Palchuk,” Levit handed her the papers in his hands “Here’s the formal statement of Steve’s suspension, with my contact information attached. We’ll email you a copy as well, along with the forms for the school psychologist. We’ll put together the educational material for Steve’s suspension and get it to you before the end of Spring break. And if you have any questions or concerns please don’t hesitate to contact me directly,”

Naomi bobbed her head up and down while grabbing the papers, muttering a quick ‘thank you’ before pulling Steve up and hustling him towards the door. It looked like she couldn’t get out of here fast enough. Not that Barbara could blame her.

After the door shut behind them Barbara let out a small sigh of her own and started to rise out of her seat. Finally they could cross this off their list and get back to--

“Actually Dr. Lake we’re not quite done here,”

She froze midway out of her chair, Jim perking his head up.

“I’m sorry?”

The look Levit and Kuhn shared with each other made her uneasy “Steve’s actions were reprehensible, regardless of what Jim said, but by the same note we can’t ignore what Jim said to him only because Steve lashed out inappropriately,”

Barbara numbly sank back into her seat, queasy feeling burning to life in her gut “So...what are you saying?”

Levit leaned forward “We would like to have Jim meet with our school psychologist twice a week for the rest of the school year, and possibly next year as well,”

The word mandatory hadn’t been said, but Barbara heard it loud and clear.

She swallowed hard “Ok,”

“Now if it’s alright there are a few things we’d like to discuss with Jim,” he paused “Alone,”

Her stomach gave another sickening lurch “But...he…”

Jim scribbled and held his notebook up towards her.

It’s ok I’ll be fine

She met his eyes, and even past the bruising and swelling she could read his desperate plea loud and clear.

We can’t afford to make this any worse.

“Al...alright then,”

“Now Dr. Lake if you don’t mind,” Levit gestured towards a door on his left “Please go wait in my office while we have our discussion with Jim,”

Barbara nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and got to her feet. Allowing herself one final glance at Jim before she stepped out the door.

These were teachers, professionals, they knew how to talk to sick and injured children. Jim would be just fine with them. There was no reason for her to wo--

Barbara stopped dead in her tracks, door slipping from her grip and swinging shut behind her. Dread pooling in the pit of her stomach. Sitting at the desk in front of her was the one person she did not want to be involved right now.

“Hello Dr. Lake,” Dorrie said “I really wish we were meeting under better circumstances,”

Barbara couldn’t speak past the jagged block of ice in her throat.

Dorrie turned in her chair towards her “I’ll get straight to the point. Yesterday the school contacted me after Jim was attacked, and I had planned on reaching out to you yesterday evening, but then one of your coworkers contacted us and claimed that you left the hospital with Jim without being discharged,” she folded her hands in her lap “After hearing that I brought all three of us together yesterday afternoon to determine exactly how events unfolded,”

On the inside, past the screaming panic in her ears, Barbara was kicking herself. How could she have been so stupid. Of course the school was going to notify CPS when they had an open investigation on them. Of course her coworkers were going to follow protocol.

Of course these people were going to talk with each other.

Dorrie’s expression was stern “What you did yesterday shows a profound lack of judgement, and while it was good that you brought him back this morning, you never should have taken Jim away from the hospital the way you did in the first place. As a doctor you should know better,”

“I...I understand,” Barbara forced the words out “It won’t happen again,”

Dorrie was unmoved, and why wouldn’t she be? There was no excuse for what Barbara did. And if Barbara really regretted what she’d done then why did she do it in the first place?

“Right now you and I are going to have a discussion about the events of yesterday and what we are going to do going forward,” she pulled a three ring binder stuffed to the brim with papers out of her bag “And while at this point it is not necessary to consider extreme action, let me make it clear that you will no longer be Jim’s primary care provider,”

The cold pit of horror in her belly deepened even as Barbara nodded along in reluctant agreement, sinking into the chair across from Dorrie.

Reluctant because that was the last thing she wanted to be dealing with right now. Agreement because Barbara knew that she ultimately had no choice.

Last night when Jim had told her that his friends had been the ones who called CPS...she honestly didn’t know whether she was shocked or not.

They’d never given any indication that they’d thought something was wrong, and she’d known Toby since he was in kindergarten. It was hard to believe that he-- that they would go so far as to….

Her nails dug into the fabric of her skirt.

Then again, the kids weren’t in kindergarten anymore, and a teenager noticed a lot more than a five year old did.

At the end of the day Barbara just couldn’t blame them for bringing this trouble to their door. They’d seen a concerning situation with multiple red flags and taken the appropriate actions to help. They were all good, sweet kids who just wanted their friend to be safe.

And they weren’t the ones who’d snuck a badly injured, drugged patient out of the hospital without being discharged, or locked a young child in the basement for years. The reason you’re sitting here is because of you and no one else. And don’t you forget it.

#tales of arcadia #Trollhunters #fanfic #barbara lake #jim lake jr #coach lawrence #steve palchuk #naomi palchuk #principal levit #original character(s)#rmvwrites #A Secret's Worth #sunshine au #tw violence #tw injury

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