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mi6-cafe · 4 years

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DRABBLES FOR WEEK 3 ARE HEEERE!

This week our competitors were asked to write exactly 300 words of pure dialogue inspired by the word: “slip”

HOW DO YOU VOTE?

Read all the drabbles. (they’re below the line)

Choose three that you like the most.

Fill out this VOTING FORM, telling us your favourites. (You can even leave anonymous feedback for the author).

NOTE: If you are a competitor, you CANNOT vote for your own fic. But please, do vote. :)

The voting period ends at 11:59 PM EST on Sunday night. Results will be posted and anonymous feedback will be emailed on Monday.

Drabbles below the cut:

Title: Slip of the Tongue Author: IrishWitch58 (captain-magicalkitty) Warnings:None Summary: Q let's something slip out during a private briefing. James actually does listen, especially when it's something he's been waiting to hear.

“This is a simple concept. Access the control center, find the central station, and insert this drive. Once it downloads, you enter this sequence on the keyboard, and remove the drive.”

“And what does the download do exactly?”

“It will send their outgoing communications to us first, allowing us to know their plans and modify them in ways the receivers will not suspect. The result will be that we will eventually close the net around the entire organization. The concept is not that difficult if you would just focus. I sometimes think you play up technological ignorance to get attention. I suspect I would be out of patience if I didn't love you.”

“What did you say?”

“I said you were playing at being ignorant and we have work to do. Now pay attention. We still have to get through this briefing if the mission is to have any chance of success.”

“I really think the briefing can wait just a bit. I believe you're trying to divert me. I know what I heard.”

“You didn't hear anything except my frustration with your lack of attention, 007.”

“Then why are you blushing, Q? You do blush very attractively. I recall you turned a lovely rosy shade the first time I kissed you...”

“Just stop right there, Bond.”

“Oh no, I don't think so. I especially remember how pink you turned the first time I put my tongue...”

“I said stop it, this is not the time or the place!”

“I'll stop if you admit it. I know what I heard. There's nothing wrong with my ears. As a matter of fact, you seem to like them as handles when I...”

“Dammit, James. Yes I love you, you arrogant, aggravating, man. Now can we please get to work?”

“With pleasure, darling.”

Title: The Village of Barnsley Author: Venstar Warnings: geekery Summary: roll for initiative.

The Village of Barnsley’s life force is slipping away. Peasants are fleeing and some have disappeared with no explanation.

Excellent. Peasants to do my bidding, ha!

Oaf.

No one seems to know the cause of the decay. What skulks through the twisted shadows of the night? It will take a brave and skillful band of adventures to solve the riddle!

I’m brave and skilled, that’s me.

You are weak and your dice are cursed, Alec you’re going to get us killed.

Do you think my goats are going to be okay?

You can sell them.

Never!

If the village is in trouble and they need food for information, we’re selling your goats, James.

Touch my goats and I’ll roll to shoot you with my longbow.

Children, please let the DM continue. I have a meeting tomorrow morning and I don’t want to show up with dark circles under my eyes.

Tanner has to fix the trouble in the town of the MI5 and MI6 joint task force. Maybe taking my dice will improve things for you.

I doubt it. Okay, so this village is slowly slipping away.

What’s in it for us?

Spoken like a true mercenary.

Hey, You want goats, I want benefits.

OKAY OKAY! Your band of merry men-

And women

Your band of merry men AND women

And for those of us who are undecided.

I swear to all that is unholy….YOUR BAND OF MERRY ARSEHOLES has become aware of the changes in Barnsley through some vague rumors. Do you want to roll to hear the rumors?

Yes.

No.

Shut up, Alec.

That’s Sir Alec the Brave to you!

Yes, we want to hear a rumor. Who gets to roll first? Goat man?

I agree one must gather intelligence.

Let’s roll! I want to hear a rumor!

Title: No, YOU do the mission report Author: stormofsharpthings Warnings: none Summary: slip - noun (FOR BOAT) a place where a boat or ship can be parked, between two piers

“007, why are you driving a boat through the harbour?”

“I’m piloting this yacht because it’s too bloody big to leave drifting as a navigational hazard. The harbour patrol would notice and there’s a dozen dead bodies aboard. I assume you don’t want an international incident...”

“Q,tell him it’d only be his third this year...”

“Alec, shut up and make sure the deck is clear. Q, find out where this wallowing scow normally docks, will you? We'll look suspicious if we just wander about like this too much longer.”

“Too late, James, harbour patrol incoming. Q, got any long-distance lasers?”

“Fuck. Alec, can you divert them somehow? We can’t let them board us.”

“007, head to the northern section of the harbour, to a marina called the Golden Seas.”

“Right. Alec?”

“Just steer us straight and leave the distraction to me.”

“006, why are you stripping that corpse?”

“Q, have you got a drone in the air somewhere? If so, you might want to avert your tender gaze...”

“006, why are you stripping?”

“Take a deep breath, quartermaster, I’m about to engage in a distraction guaranteed to send them away.”

“You’re...tell me you’re not actually...”

“Stop snickering, James, and please explain to our poor innocent quartermaster while I shout angrily at the fools who’ve dared to interrupt our erotic escapades.”

“Well, Q, when a boy likes another boy...”

“007!”

“No, quartermaster, Alec is not going to engage in sexual congress with a fresh corpse. But the harbour patrol won’t interfere with a rich man’s pleasure cruise, either. They know where their bribes come from, especially when they’re reminded in such colorful Russian. Entering the marina now, Q.”

“Oh, er, slip 24 is the correct one, 007.”

“Right. Dispatch a cleaning crew and we’ll be happy to report our mission complete.”

Title: Quotable Quotations Author: Anyawen Warnings: Summary: Film buffs Bond and Q trade movie quotes to stave off boredom. Bond slips a serious question into the game.

“I’m bored, Q.”

“You’re impossible, Bond.”

“'I do not think that word means what you think it means.'”

“I know exactly what it means, and if I had any doubt, your picture in the dictionary would surely give it away.”

“'Why so serious?'”

“MI6 frowns on using comms for idle chatter.”

“My flight’s been delayed twice, Q. If I have to watch another woman order some salted, drizzled, whipped, pumpkin-spiced abomination, I will go mad.”

“In the interests of preserving what little remains of your sanity, 'I’ll have what she’s having.'”

“'As you wish.'”

“You already quoted from The Princess Bride. You lose.”

“That was before you agreed to play. Doesn’t count.”

“Fine. 'I’m your Huckleberry.'”

“My what?”

“Oh, you don’t know that one? You lose. Again.”

“What’s it from?”

“Tombstone. 1993.”

“Never been a big fan of westerns.”

“'Nobody’s perfect.'”

“Hmmm. 'I can't see anything I don't like about you.'”

“Ha! 'As if.'”

“'You make me want to be a better man.'”

“'Everything is possible, even the impossible.'”

“'Today is a good day to try.'”

“'The present is well out of hand.'”

“'I love you beyond poetry.'”

“... 'I know.'”

"'I want you. I want all of you, forever. You and me, every day.'"

"Uh. 'You talking to me?'"

"'Shut up. Yes or no.'"

"... 'Surely you can't be serious.'"

"'Carpe Diem.'"

“'Even walls have ears,' Bond.”

“'Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.'”

“James …”

“'Go ahead, make my day.'”

“You’re really doing this over comms?"

"'Our lives are defined by opportunities—'"

"All right, then. 'You had me at 'hello'.'"

“That’s a yes?”

"Yes. 'Come what may.'"

"'I'm king of the world.'"

"Well, your majesty, tickets to Paris and a seat on the Eurostar should have you home in 10 hours. Boarding now. Gate B50. ‘Shake a leg.’”

Title: Freudian Slip Author: SouffleGirl91 Warnings: swearing Summary: Every now and then, the mask slips and he ends up saying exactly what’s on his mind (or, 5 times Bond has a slip of the tongue and 1 time it was Q)

“Don’t you get tired of following orders?”

“Do you?”

“Sometimes. We aren’t their dogs. Stop acting like you are.”

“Alec…”

“We could leave, you know? Make a run for it. They’d never find us.”

“I have to go. I’ve got a meeting with my leash. Lead. With my lead.”

“Don’t stick around for too long, James. Loyalty doesn’t always go both ways.”

“Goodbye, Alec.”

“-don’t care what happened with Trevelyan, I will not defend you in front of the select committee a second time. Is that understood?”

“Hm.”

“007, I asked you a question. Is. That. Understood?”

“Yes, mum.”

“...”

“Ma’am. Yes, ma’am.”

“Take some time. Get yourself together before you come back, Bond. Dismissed.”

“...Fuck.”

“So? How are you settling back in?”

“Fine.”

“Getting to know the new Quartermaster? He’s quite the-”

“Moneypenny, if M’s busy, you can just shoot me off. Shoo. Fuck. I didn’t mean that.”

“James? I thought we were past that? Is everything ok?”

“I’ll come back later.”

“...James?”

“The Van Gogh print I recognize, but what’s this one?”

“Hmm? Oh, that’s one of mine.”

“You paint?”

“Sometimes. When I’m not rebuilding guns for careless agents. They’re just daubs, really.”

“Not at all. I like your arse- art! ...I like your paintings, I mean.”

“...Thanks. I think.”

“You should leave.”

“Madeleine, what-?”

“You don’t want to be here, James. I don’t want someone who doesn’t want me back. This isn’t working.”

“So… what? It’s not me, it’s Q- you. You. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Go home, James.”

“Q.”

“Bond? You’re back?”

“I am.”

“They didn’t believe me, you know. When I told them you’d come back to me. Us. Shit. Back to MI6, I mean.”

“Actually, you were right the first time.”

“What?”

“Forget MI6, Q. I came back to you.”

“You- what?”

“If you’ll have me.”

Title: Note Passing Author: sunaddicted Warnings: none Summary: elementary school tactics are the very best "So, now we are passing notes as if we are kids still in school?" "I wouldn't have had to, if you replied to my texts" "Maybe there was a specific reason why I wasn't doing that - did you think of it while you folded this slip of paper and batted your lashes at Moneypenny to persuade her to pass it along?" "You really sound unnecessarily peeved by the note passing" "Let's say I just expect a little more maturity from a grown man" "I didn't think you would have appreciated being stalked around MI6 any better" "To be fair... that's true.Oh, stop it! I can hear your smugness" "You can't hear smugness" "When it comes to you? I can" "You're just being dramatic" "You're one to talk. Don't get me started: I'm very busy and I don't have the time to list all the ways and occasions in which you have proved how much of a drama queen you are. I actually don't even have the time for this call" "You could have just texted me your answer - or you know, you could have passed me a note: some of us still appreciate the beauty of the written word, the effort of picking out the best stationery-" "-you wrote yours on the back of a recei-" "-the intimacy of putting your handwriting on display. I could go on and on about the meaningfulness and superiority of handwritten notes" "You're so full of bullshit" "And you're stalling: for someone claiming to be oh so busy, you sure are enjoying keeping me on the phone" "Maybe I'm just making you gag for it" "If only you'd let me show how next to nonexistent my gag reflex is..." "Stop - stop right there.I'll come to dinner, happy?" "Immensely so, my dear Quartermaster"

Title: All Wrapped Up Author: Iambid (Flantastic) Warnings: Mature Summary: Q gives James a present

“Hello darling.”

“There you are. R told me you’d taken the afternoon off. Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh yes. I got a notification that a parcel was due to be delivered… I thought I’d better be here to receive it.”

“Have you been buying gadgets online again?”

“Not quite. Sit down.”

“Darling?”

“Shhh. Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m wearing a dressing gown in the middle of the afternoon?”

“Why are you wearing a…”

“Or perhaps you should be asking what I’m wearing under it?”

“Why, what… oh. Oh.”

“Do you like it? I found this company online that sells lingerie for men and when I saw that they had a full set in black satin with a matching waist slip and… well, you’re always saying how much you like satin and…”

“Q? Shut up.”

“Hehe… what are you-ARGH! Jesus fucking Christ, warn a guy next time!”

“You look delicious. I want you laid out like a platter…”

“Yes, but I’m sure I could have laid down on the sofa on my own.”

“Maybe. Now let’s see… I like the bra-let. Very sexy, but what I’d really like to see is what these stockings are attached to under your minxy little petticoat… oh. Well isn’t that sweet? Do you know, ladies don’t often go for suspender belts these days? It’s all hold ups. I can’t stand them. Oh, but this is lovely. Just look: you’ve got me a little gift too. All wrapped in satin, done up with a bow.”

“It’s not that little, you cheeky sod.”

“Mmmm, no. Especially not if I do this…”

“You’re a man of many talents.”

“Were they expensive?”

“Were what expensive?”

“The knickers. I have I feeling I’ll be tearing them off you before very long…”

“They were quite reasonable... Oh James…”

Title: Slip up Author: AtoTheBean Warnings: None Summary: In which Q fails at technology

“You should tell him.” “Oh my god, you are the worst, most meddlesome best friend ever.” “He’s been back six months—” “I’m very aware.” “—and he’s different.” “He’s n—” “He’s different. Less…" “Of a prat?” “The prat was charming. Worked on you.” “Shut it.” “Of course, love... You know, I think these little happy hours of ours might work better on Zoom. The telephone just doesn’t capture my commiserating, compassionate—” “Ha!” “—expression.” “I’m off duty. You don’t need to see my pajamas.” “Wouldn't be the first time. But I agree; they’re wasted on me. Best invite him over.” “You’re relentless.” “Because I love you. And you deserve happiness.” “Deserve has nothing to do with anything. I’ll have to refill my scotch if you’re going soft.” “Time for the second round, then.” “It’s the third, I think.” “Fine. Third. You shouldn’t wor—” “Hold on, someone else is ringing in. I’ll be back in a mo.” “Fine, but I’m not done—” “...Hello?” “Q? This is James Bond.” “...” “Bond?” “Yes... is this Q?” “It is. I just… I’m on another call. If you’d hold one moment… “Of course.” “...” “It’s him. On the other line. What do I do? If I talk to him right now, I know I’ll slip up and say something mortifying.” “...This is still James, Q.” “Oh god. Uh, sorry Bond. Just one moment. I’ll be right back.” “Of course.” “...” “I hate you. You’ve orchestrated this, somehow. Got me drunk and worked on me to tell him how I feel... and suddenly he’s got my number and he's calling on a Friday night…” “...” “Eve?” “Still James, actually.” “Bugger me!” “I was hoping we might start with dinner, actually. It sounds like the conversation will be... lively. Tomorrow at seven?” “...” “...” “Somewhere nice.” “Of course, Q.”

Title: Tongue-Tied Author: sorion Warnings: - Summary: Always listen to your Quartermaster.

"For the record, I do not approve of your course of action, 007."

"Duly noted."

"The only time you duly do anything, I would imagine."

"Dearest Q, if your tone of voice had implied that you truly did not approve or, dare I say it, you were even worried for me, I would have done more than note duly."

"Would you have noted aggressively?"

"At the very least, Quartermaster."

"I'm less than impressed. Assailants are closing in, by the way, in case you hadn't noticed. You also have a blind spot, your four o'clock."

"I had noticed, thank you. Keep me updated on my blind spot, please. ... ... ..."

"Bond! Report!"

"Just some unfriendly fire, no need to worry."

"I was not worried. I asked you to report."

"Of course."

"You will take me seriously."

"Always."

"I'd make a note, but there's activity in your blind spot."

"..."

"Move straight ahead. Watch your left."

"..."

"Take the stairs to the roof. I shut down all elevators."

"How very inconvenient."

"It'll be more inconvenient if they shut them down with you inside one. I can take over controls, but even I can't screw in a fuse remotely. And you don't want them to get to the roof before you, do you?"

"..."

"Can I assume from your heavy breathing that you are heeding my advice for a change? ... Don't laugh and run."

"Did you lock the door to the stairway behind me?"

"That goes without saying. They'll break it down soon enough, no doubt... But not before you get to your airlift."

"Smug little bastard, I love you."

"..."

"... Working with you."

"Slip of the tongue, 007?"

"Ah, well. The sneaking around was fun while it lasted."

"... I'll have you know that nobody here looks particularly surprised. Do stop laughing."

"There's my lift. Wait for me."

"Always."

#10

Title: you know my name (or you don't) Author: scarytheory Warnings: none Summary: Bond is bantering with Q over the earpiece. The topic is, as usual, the mystery of Q's name.

“I'm pretty sure it's Quigley.”

“Really, Bond? Do you believe that my parents would do that to me? Also, we should keep it professional while you're in the field.”

“This is a professional curiosity. Anyway, it says Quashawn in your documents, but I don't think that's true.”

”When did you see my files?”

”I'm a spy, remember?”

”I'll need to have a word with Eve.”

“Or maybe it's Quirrel.”

“Ten points for the Harry Potter reference, but sadly, Quirrel is a surname.”

“So you are admitting that your first name starts with Q?”

“No! Just concentrate on the mission, Bond. Seriously, sometimes I ask myself, how I could love such an annoying git.”

“…”

“What?”

“You're in love with me, Q?”

“No, that would be absurd! It was a slip of the tongue.”

“Ha!”

“Don't flatter yourself, Bond, it's just an expression. It wasn't meant in a romantic way at all.”

“So you love me non-romantically? That makes sense.”

“Oh, no. We are NOT doing this. Can we please go back to your obsession with my name?”

“Perhaps later, this is much more interesting.”

“Don't be a child, Bond. And thanks to you, now I'll need to burn this tape.”

“Such a shame. You could have a beautiful reminder of your love confession.”

“Bond! What do you need me to do to let this go?”

“…”

“Shit. I have to tell you my name, right?”

“I think that could work.”

“And if I do that, you promise that we'll never speak about this ever again?”

“Yes.”

“Well. Okay.”

“So?”

“It's John.”

“Really? That's…”

“Boring? Disappointing? Should I change my name to Quasimodo?”

“No. I actually like this one a lot. And… John?”

“What?”

“When I come back, we should discuss my alleged unprofessionalism over dinner. Non-romantically, of course.”

#11

Title: Static Author: Ksania / @starrboned-art Warnings: Implied canon-typical violence Summary: Bond and Q find themselves in a predicament.

"007."

"..."

"Bond."

"Mmh."

"James!"

"Oof!"

"Good, you're awake."

"I was awake this whole time."

"Of course, my bad for thinking otherwise. Your drooling face is obviously a technique to disarm your captors."

"Glad we're on the same page."

"Indeed."

"....Where are we, exactly?"

"And here I thought you were completely awake this whole time."

"Q."

"I don't know. A warehouse is my best guess. A few miles from London. Grabbed us on the way to Heathrow - how's your head?"

"Hmm, like I got hit by a two-ton truck."

"Memory still intact, I see."

"How are you awake?"

"Luck. Looking harmless enough not to be kicked in the head."

"Ha... Sitrep?"

"Three hostiles at least. One leader, two henchmen. Put a sack over our heads on the way here. Haven’t demanded anything yet - I guess an hour has passed since the car crash."

"Handcuffs?"

"Lockpick, back of the belt."

"Convenient."

"Bond! That is not my belt."

"Sorry, Q."

"Careful, Bond. Slip your fingers in the wrong pocket and you might find yourself without a hand."

"Why, Q, that's quite the image."

"Just get it done, I hear footsteps-"

"Hush, I almost have it-"

"Ah, I see you're finally awake, Mr. Bond."

"You have me at a disadvantage, Miss...?"

"No need for names. You gave us quite the chase in Berlin, Mr. Bond."

"If you wanted a private audience, you should have just said the word. No need for a crowd."

"No? I feel that your boy toy will be quite persuasive."

"Don't you dare-"

"My, villain standards are slipping these days."

"Q!"

"I'm quite alright, Bond. Told you to be careful with what you touch."

"What was it?"

"Oh, just a normal, state-of-the-art taser. Disguised as a credit card."

"And you never gave me one?"

"Only good boys deserve nice toys."

#12

Title: tête-à-tête Author: azure3795arts Warnings: none Summary: short conversations -

“—Focus on my voice. Breathe. In then out—”

“Q?”

“Yes. I’m here.”

“Sorry, but... Getting a little fuzzy.”

“Hold on. Evac on route. 2 more minutes.”

“I”m afraid I’ll have to see you later, Q.”

“What? 007, What do you—wait—”

“Take care of yourself.”

“No. Bond. Bond!”

“You know what they say about sleeping at your table.”

“That I’m dedicated to my work?”

“No. That you’ll drool and get a stiff neck for your trouble.”

“I don’t drool.”

“Sure. I thought I told you to take care of yourself.”

“Don’t you dare use that card with me, Bond.” – “Not after you did.”

“Resurrection. Hobby—”

“Shut up. You don’t have any equipment to turn in, so do us both a favor and get out.”

“Good morning to you, too, Quartermaster. I’ll leave you to it.”

“... Bond.”

“Yes?”

“Welcome back.”

“Thank you.”

“Does M not have more missions for you, or are you just going into early retirement?”

“Well, you saw the medical file, Q—”

“Bold of you to assume I keep track.”

“Hmm.”

“I don’t suppose I can tell you to bugger off from my flat?”

“You can.” – “At the risk of abusing an injured personnel.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” – “Whatever. Stay or leave, just pick one and stop bothering me. And don’t disturb the cats.”

“I won’t.”

“Why keep a cot here if you’re not going to utilize it. At least drag your arse on it.”

“You have no right to tell me where to drag my arse, Bond. No right.”

“Yes, and I suppose you didn’t just nearly walk into a wall.”

“That was one time.”

“You can’t keep doing this, Q.”

“What do you—Who is it?”

“Q…”

“Oh, Miss Moneypenny. Come in.”

“Just... Who were you talking to just now?”

“Nothing. No one.”

#13

Title: Lingerie Author: sparklycitrus Warnings: None Summary: Q and Moneypenny have a pleasant chat on a Friday evening off-work.

“Eve, hello. What can I do for you?” “Hello dear boffin. Are you alone?” “Er, yes?” “Oh, good. Don’t worry, nothing disastrous has happened, I just need your expert opinion on a minor personal emergency. Hold one sec, I’m going to call you back on video.” “Video? Wait, what-?” -- “Hello again. Sorry, have I caught you at a bad time after all?” “Pardon my state of undress. I was just getting ready to go out.” “Ooh, is it a date? Who is it? No one I know, I hope.” “Eve – your emergency?” “Right, do change the subject. Well, no matter, here – gold or blue?” “…what?” “Gold, or blue?” “Are those… meant to be worn on a moving body? The construction doesn’t look sturdy enough for, well, anything really.” “You can come up with a detailed improvement plan later. Which one looks better?” “On you?” “No, on M. Of course on me. Tonight. Under a cocktail dress. Personally I like the gold one – makes my bosom look fuller, no? But the blue is a nicer color. And it works better with my shoes.” “…It has to match your shoes?” “What, you think I’m going to stand in a stranger’s bedroom barefoot. What kind of girl do you take me for?” “Uh…right. Apologies. The gold one, then. The brown accents compliment your eyes. The overall structure is more pleasing on a feminine curve. And yes, it does make bosoms look fuller.” “Excellent. Thank you darling. Now carry on with your evening. I shall go get ready myself.” “Ahem, where did you find these anyway?” “An absolutely adorable online boutique! Good prices, too. Why, thinking of getting one for yourself?” “…” “Oh, oh god. You are seeing someone. Oh it better not be–” “Goodbye, Eve. Have a pleasant evening.” “Q–Oi!”

#14

Title: Slip Over Pints Author: ladymars Warnings: No Warnings Apply Summary: R and S try to advise Q.

"I don't know why I let you two drag me here. Three Science Branch heads at the same place outside of Headquarters? There must be guidelines against this." "Well, I think that's 004 flirting with one of the secretaries, if that makes you feel better." "And this place does make M's favourite chips." "So, have another pint and tell us about your little crush..." "Oh, shush, R. It's nothing like that." "Q, dear, I heard you over the roar of the chemical hood. If Bond didn't hear you, he must be deaf from standing too close to explosions." "Hell, I heard you from across the room even. 'Why don't you go and-'" "I know what I said! It was just a slip of the tongue! Nothing more!" "I think you want a slip of something else from him..." "God, S, you're almost as vulgar as the agents. Leave poor Q alone." "If I'm as vulgar as the agents, then Q definitely has a chance with 007. I bet Bond'd appreciate the honesty." "...You'd really think so?" "Q, don't-" "Yeah! You have to be direct with guys like him, or else he's never gonna understand." "Well, I suppose S has a point... Even if he did hear you, he might not have noticed the double entendre." "Ugh, I'd say I was as direct as him driving a car into the side of a building." "He's going to try to justify it like you're justifying it now. Doesn't he spend all his inactive time at Q Branch?" "He hangs out around my Branch to get at the better weapons, obviously." "Or to get at the Quartermaster. We're trying to save you some time here. Turn the slip of the tongue into a slip into bed." "S, honestly, as bad as the agents..."

#15

Title: Not A Contract Author: Shush_MummyWriting Warnings: None Summary: Department heads are always swamped with paperwork.

“Eve, what is this?” “My darling Q, that is an EMP172 form – Official Notification of Intimate Relationship between Staff Members.” “But why is it on top of my Executive Signature pack? Am I supposed to give it to someone – it’s not Robert and that girl from Accounting is it? I’m the Department Head, I shouldn’t have to deal with personal things like this. That's for HR.” “Sweetheart – it’s for you. I even thought I would save you some time, see on page two - I have already filled out James’ details.” “I beg your pardon?” “You and one ruggedly handsome James Bond of course. That fish mouthed look is very unbecoming Q dear.” “But……” “But nothing. It’s just a slip of paper, not a contract. I am quite frankly tired of watching the two of you dancing around each other. It is time you both did something about it. And if you boys ever decide to make it completely official, I expect some credit during the Wedding speeches.” “Check the back page.” “DON'T SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THAT!” “You’ve already signed it.” “Of course.” “Eve, please shut the door on your way out.” “I’m not going to sign this, until you have taken me out on a proper date.” “I have a booking for us, for tonight, at the Ritz. I’ll pick you up at your place at seven.” “How do you know where – no, never mind. Seven it is.” “And Q, that grey suit you wore to the Ministerial meeting last week, wear that – please.” “Alright. Now get out of my office. See you at seven, 007.” "If we are going to do this, I think you should start calling me James." "James. But call me Q - don't want you slipping up on mission."

Thank you to our amazing drabble writers for their contributions this week!

And thank you to you for reading and voting. You can see the results here.

#LDWS #james bond fanfiction #drabbles #signal boost #writing competition

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contrivedcoincidences6 · 5 years

Text

The Invisible Cord- Chapter 6

Need to catch up? Go here!

***

November 2011

Location unknown

“How the hell did this happen?!” I yell at the useless clone before me.

“They were working with someone. We have yet to find out who.” Spender’s clone responds as he puts another cigarette between his lips.

I swat it out of his mouth in anger, “Check fucking security cameras! Talk to witnesses! Do what you have to do to find them! They’re too valuable to lose.”

“I understand ma’am but it may become more complicated if it turns out Mulder and Scully are involved…” He has the grace to look nervous as he suggests this.

“If they get involved I will burn up your body and build a new one of you. It’s been done before. Maybe the next one will actually be able to do its fucking job. I don’t want to hear any more excuses take care of it.”

The clone just stares at me for a moment and then nods, “And if Mulder and Scully are involved?”

“Kill them.” I say and swallow the faint nausea that bubbles up.

“I doubt it will be that easy.” He looks at his cigarette and rolls it in his hand, shockingly like the original.

“All I hear are more excuses.”

“And what if the children fight back?”

“Don’t kill them. You can knock them out, sedate them, or anything else to get them to come with you but don’t kill them.” I make a mental note to talk to my biological engineer about making the clones more effective.

“Who would you like me to take?”

I look around the room at the various clones that we have in constant circulation. They are the syndicate. All of them have the memories and personalities of the real men who, in their pride, decided to record their consciousness before they died. I doubt they imagined it would be used in this way. That it would be used to make them slaves rather than leaders. That they would be forced to take their orders from a woman they’d used as a pawn once upon a time.

A Grinch-like grin comes across my face as I remember their degradation and their ultimate demise.

I have to admit that I get a sick kind of pleasure in seeing these once-powerful men reduced to my lackeys.

“Take Krycek and some backup. Next time I hear from you it better be to tell me you found them or you won’t live to try again.” I warn as he nods and walks away.

It’s been years since I’ve seen Fox but I still find my heartbeats a little faster when I hear his name. I allow myself this one moment of weakness before continuing my preparation.

***

November 2011

The Eagle 24- hour Café

Washington D.C.

“Mulder it’s been two hours. No one is coming. It must have been some kind of prank.” I slump in my seat and watch Mulder crush sunflower seeds between his teeth.

“Just a little while longer Scully. They did say in the message between eight and midnight.” Mulder’s eyes are focused intensely on the building in front of us.

I sigh, “And that doesn’t seem a little odd to you?”

“Of course it does. That’s why Skinner is on call. And why I did all that fancy maneuvering to make sure we were not followed.”

“Yeah ‘fancy maneuvering’” I quoted with a sly smile.

I fiddle with the radio for a while until we see a nondescript car pull into the dark parking lot.

Both sitting up we watch as five people exit the car. Mulder puts the binoculars up to his eyes and I hear a sharp intake of breath.

“What?” He doesn’t respond so I touch his arm, “Mulder, what is it?”

“The clones of Samantha and Kurt Crawford.” He whispers.

I take the binoculars from him and look for myself. The Kurt clone opens the door for the rest of the odd little group while he glances around suspiciously.

With Kurt and Samantha are two teenage girls who seem jumpy. My eyes zero in on the girl with the red hair. There is a pang in my heart that I can’t account for when I look at her long red hair. I can’t get a look at her face as she takes hold of the other girl’s hand.

“Mulder…” I start.

“Yeah, I saw. It might be bait, Scully. I mean they are sitting there with clones…”

But I’m out the door before he can continue. Something I can’t name is pulling me forward and I can’t stop until I reach the door and make eye contact with the Samantha clone. She nods her head at me and I feel a churning in my stomach. It’s as if my instincts have taken over, there are almost no thoughts in my head.

“Scully wait…” Mulder grunts as he runs. Ignoring my instincts I wait for him.

He comes up behind me and places a hand on the small of my back while he peers at my face.

“Do you want to go in?” He asks in a low voice. I can feel the rumble in his chest and lean into him a bit.

Finally I just nod and he opens the door for me. Mulder’s hand on my back is my anchor to reality as I try to decipher the confusing thoughts in my head. The whole table looks up at us as we enter. I freeze when I see her.

She looks so different but I just know it’s her.

It’s Emily.

She blinks at me with hazel eyes. Her nose is long and straight but as a small closed lip smile crosses her face all I see is Mulder. I see him in her tall thin frame and bright eyes and it nearly kills me.

My hands fly to my mouth and Mulder stops in his tracks.

I can feel him shaking behind me as she gets up from her seat to stand before us.

“Emily?” I say ready to sink to the floor.

She nods silently and takes a step toward us but before she can I, against my better judgment, move forward and reach for her tentatively.

This older Emily pauses for a moment and I become nervous until she finally rushes into my arms.

The tears start almost right away. I picture myself before my abduction as I always have when I think of her. I picture how young I was and as always kick myself for not knowing I was pregnant, as if there was anything I could do about it.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” The words leave my mouth like a chant.

Soundlessly she hugs me back.

“I gave up on you. I let you go. I should have fought for you.” All of the guilt that has haunted me for sixteen years pours out.

***

What surprises me first about my mother is how small she is. I wouldn’t call myself tall but I’m on the high end of average.

But here stands, my biological mother, who is practically swallowed by the man next to her.

They both stare at me like they’ve seen a ghost. And I suppose to them I am a ghost.

When she calls me Emily I don’t bother to correct her since that’s all she knows me as.

I let her cry and hold me close and feel warm tears flow from my eyes as well. The warmth from her sinks into my bones and I feel myself slump in her arms. I nearly shake with the force of her love. We begin to sink to the floor but are caught by the man who came in with her.

When I look at him it’s my own eyes looking back at me. Kurt told me a little about them, about how hard their lives have been and I see it etched into every line of his face, as he looks at me, unbelieving.

My mother gradually lets go of me. She puts her hand to my cheek and wipes away a tear before she moves out of the way and he moves slowly, as if afraid he will spook me.

He tilts his head slightly and his eyes narrow just a bit as he takes in my face. His hands move to my shoulders and then I remember something.

The image of this exact man but so much younger making a silly face in the foster center I was staying at. It was the first time I’d laughed since my mom’s death.

I practically lunge at him and wrap my arms around his middle. He’s taken off guard but quickly pulls me close and I feel the wetness on his cheek against the top of my head.

I can hear my mother talking to Kurt but I can’t hear anything except for the heartbeat of my father.

That’s when I realize I have parents.

They are real and they are here. After years of doubting and worry here they are in the flesh.

“We can’t stay here.” Kurt’s voice breaks the spell.

I feel my father’s hand cup the back of my head as he lays a kiss on my hair before releasing me to my mother beside us who’s worry is palpable. She takes my hand in both of hers but her eyes stay on Kurt.

“Follow us.” He says and keeps looking around like he’s been doing since we left the motel.

May watches us with bright eyes. Meeting her mother at a new motel is the next item on the agenda.

“We’re not leaving her.” My mother’s voice comes out shaky.

“Take her in your car then but we need to go.”

“Where?” My father asks.

“Just follow us.”

***

We are silent on the way across the street to our SUV. I hold Emily’s hand as we cross and both Mulder and I are continually looking back and forth to make sure we are not being watched.

I get in the back of the car next to our daughter while Mulder gets behind the steering wheel. As he pulls out behind Kurt he puts his cell phone next to his ear. Emily’s fingers are long, thin, and intertwined with my own. I can still feel my heartbeat in my ears and I can’t stop looking around to look for signs of being followed.

“Hey… Yeah… Everything is fine for now. I can’t tell you what’s up yet but I’ll call you again later tonight.” Mulder says into the phone and I know he is talking to Skinner.

“Thanks again. I’ll keep you updated.”

He hangs up as Kurt makes a sharp unexpected turn, driving like a madman.

“Where have you been?” I can’t stop the question from passing my lips as I turn to look at Emily. It’s a loaded question.

Her eyes are sad; “I don’t remember anything before the age of five. I know I was in a hospital in Wisconsin. They moved me around for a few years until I was finally placed in a Catholic foster center in Chicago where I’ve been since I was ten.”

We’d been to Chicago after losing her. One time when we were on the run we spent a whole week in northern Illinois. The pain of knowing I was in the same state as her twice is too much to bear.

I hold her fingers tighter, “I’m sorry we didn’t find you.”

“Kurt said you thought I was dead.” She whispers.

I nod and glance up at Mulder who meets my eyes briefly in the rearview.

“I was lying with you when you died. I don’t… I don’t understand how this is possible. I was there when it happened. Though at your funeral we did discover that your body was missing… It was awful.” I feel the pain from that day all over again and it’s her turn to squeeze my hand.

“You don’t remember anything from before your fifth birthday?” I ask after a beat.

“I remember little things. Snapshots of my life but nothing that really makes sense of things. Recently things have become a little clearer.” She looks down at our hands, “Kurt told me all about how you both found me. Told me I was living with adoptive parents until they were killed.” She looks up at my face with wet eyes, “He said you were trying to adopt me.”

I nod, “I didn’t know you existed until then, Emily I’m so sorry.”

She gives me a small awkward smile, “They renamed me. April Meeks.”

I take in this information and roll the name over in my head. It’s almost more appropriate that she isn’t going by her old name.

April seems appropriate too. It’s a month full of hope and sadness. April means spring is coming. Looking at my own April I pray that our own spring is coming.

I put a hand to her cheek, “April.”

She covers my hand with her own.

#txf #the x files #txf fanfiction #x files fanfiction #msr #fox mulder #dana scully #the invisible cord #clarices fic

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prairiesongserial · 5 years

Text

8.1

Friday sat in the middle of the road, folding and unfolding her map, trying to figure out just where the hell she and Val were, anyway. The woods were long behind them, thank God, replaced with golden prairie grass that moved easily with the wind. Every bent blade of grass had Friday on high alert, and she kept getting distracted, losing her place on the map. But there was never anything there. At least not with the sun still high in the sky.

Another distraction took the form of Father Valerie Lecter, who was making shaky circles around her on the motorbike. The engine putt-putted in protest as he tried to keep the bike going at five miles per hour. Every few feet the bike would give a particularly jarring wobble, and Val would put his foot down, only to kick back off again. He was talking to himself, or possibly praying. Friday returned her attention to the map.

She and Val were clear of Colorado, now, and had made pretty good time. If John and Cody were still in one piece, they would be making their way through Texas. The route Friday had highlighted for John would have taken them south, almost hugging the Mexico line. Going south would have slowed John and Cody down, but northern Texas was well populated with small towns, and she knew Dallas, if only through Joey. It wasn’t the place for a couple of folks on the wrong side of Hemisphere. Dallas was the bounty hunting capital of the States, and Friday hadn’t liked John and Cody’s chances, making it through there in one piece.

Friday chewed a fingernail as Val completed another lap around her on the motorbike. If Friday was reading the map correctly, she and Val were sitting at a very important choice. Due east through Kansas, or southeast through Oklahoma. Friday didn’t know a thing about either of them, only that she and Val must be nearly caught up to John and Cody by now, and somehow, she was going to need to get down south to meet them. But where? As far as Texas landmarks went, her map was too old for any guarantees.

Val brought the bike to a clumsy stop in front of her. Right in her light.

“Where are we headed?” he asked.

“Great question,” Friday said, rubbing her temples. “We should go through Oklahoma, I think. Start heading south.”

Val frowned. “You don’t look happy about it.”

Friday sighed heavily as she got to her feet, her knees cracking. She handed Val the map.

“Now that we’re here, I don’t really know how to head John and Cody off. All I know is they’re going to the Mississippi, eventually. Doesn’t help us any.”

Val squinted over the map.

“I think Oklahoma is the way to go. As for meeting up with John and Cody…” Val folded the map and handed it back to Friday. “I’m for leaving it up to God’s Providence.”

“Jesus Christ, Val, you’re a card,” Friday muttered under her breath. She tucked the map back in her shirt and climbed on the bike in front of Val. “Let’s find out what’s in Oklahoma.”

The prairie stretched in front of Friday for as far as the eye could see. Without even a cloud in the sky, above and below were only mile upon mile of identical heaven and earth. Made it hard to draw the line between minutes and hours when the whole world looked the same. Made it feel like nothing was real, almost. Like Friday and Val were guests in a child’s drawing the size of a napkin.

Friday would be lost in thought one minute, then come to and wonder how long she had been remembering the stories Joey used to tell her about the burlesque scene in Dallas. The fights, the rich folk, the glass tower - something Friday found difficult to picture. Vegas had been built over again from the ground up, hardly nothing left from her great-grandparents’ time. Especially nothing so fragile as buildings made of glass. Now, Val’s stone church, that might have been around - but, of course, that was gone now, too.

Still, the prairie and sky continued on. Driving here was different from everywhere else. If the sun hadn’t moved across the sky, Friday really would have gone out of her head. The sun was well behind them when finally, she had to pull over.

Friday nearly tipped the bike over in her urgency to get off the damn thing, and Val yelped as it fell to him to keep the bike upright.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Friday said. She started doing jumping jacks. She felt like she had to get her heart pumping before the thing just fell out and rolled away.

“Gotta tell ya, Val,” she huffed, starting to break a sweat. “I’m real sick of Oklahoma.”

“It’s been…” Val glanced back the way they had come. “It’s been five hours.”

“Alright, fine, then. I’m sick of the road.” Friday stopped doing jumping jacks. She leaned forward and touched her toes, easily, letting her curly brown hair fall over her face. Her back popped in a very satisfying way.

“I’m sick of dust, too,” she added, as a few strands of hair accidentally touched the ground. “It’s in my shoes, and my socks, and it’s chafing under my sock garters, and if I could ride all the way to the Mississippi buck naked, I think I would prefer that.”

She was getting worked up over nothing, which she knew, but God, she was so tired.

“Alright, listen,” Friday said, stretching her hamstrings now. “I’m gonna run half a mile down the road, and you follow me on the bike, and then we’ll keep on.”

“Uh…”

“Oh, please Val. I can’t drive right now, and it’s stupid to waste daylight standing here. You need the practice anyway.”

Val gave her an incredulous look.

“Doesn’t it make you feel crazy?” Friday said, losing her patience. “Don’t you feel like we haven’t made any progress?”

Val furrowed his brow. He looked out over the calmly swaying grass and up at the empty sky. He looked the picture of relaxation.

“No, actually,” he said. “It makes me nostalgic.”

“What, you’ve been out here before?”

“Not here, exactly,” said Val. He stretched his arms over his head, cracking his back. “Alright, I’ll drive for a bit. But I’d rather you ride behind me. I don’t like thinking about what’s in this grass.”

Friday couldn’t argue with that. And besides, if Val was driving, maybe she would be okay. She could close her eyes, and when she opened them again, maybe the prairie would be behind them.

The bike stopped, humming expectantly underneath them. Friday had fallen asleep with her arms around Val’s waist, and now rubbed the sleep from her eyes. It was almost dark.

“Oh, good, you’re up. What do you think of that?”

Friday squinted into the grass. Val had stopped them at a turn-off, and down the road, she could just barely make out a shape in the low-light. It looked like a line of trees - not long enough to be a wood like the one they’d driven through in Colorado, but still, something that wasn’t empty prairie.

“Somethin’ odd about it,” Friday said, getting off the bike to stretch. “It’s trees, but...”

Val clapped her excitedly on the shoulder just as spots of yellow light appeared behind the trees. Not just trees, she could see now: trees planted in lines. An orchard.

“Let’s go,” Val said, kicking the bike into gear. Friday hopped back on, too tired to argue, even if she wanted to. She needed to sleep in a clean place with dust at an absolute minimum, and if there was a bed to be found, all the better.

She hadn’t meant to close her eyes again, but when she opened them, it was to the cacophonous rustle of leaves overhead. Val drove slowly, and Friday didn’t blame him. With trees lining the road on either side, the sun setting, the overpowering smell of apples in the air… Friday had never been anyplace so inviting.

The first houses began to crop up among the orchards, and soon enough, they were in the center of town. Friday disentangled herself from the bike while Val found a place for it by the well. There were other beasts of burden there, not just the kind that ran on gasoline - though theirs wasn’t the only motorbike. A mule chewed a mouthful of grass next to a shiny red bike that looked brand new.

Friday and Val were already attracting a lot of attention. The people in the square gave them funny looks - amused, maybe. The townspeople looked so ordinary, that Friday supposed a pair such as herself and Val - a dusty, scraped up woman and a priest in just as bad shape - would be cause to stop and stare.

A middle aged woman with a bundle of long prairie grass almost as big as she was tied on her back actually stopped, set her load down by the well, and held out her hand to Friday.

Friday hesitated, but took it. The woman gave her hand a firm shake.

“You folks’ll be wanting the hotel, I imagine?” she said. “I’m Lonnie Park. You’re in the right place - nothing good comes of sleeping on the main road.”

“Why’s that?” Friday asked, trying not to sound too suspicious.

“Oh, you hear terrible things, terrible things,” Lonnie said, finally releasing Friday’s hand. “And the hotel’s fair. Owner’s my best friend; we came up together. Here, love, let me help you find your way.”

Friday gave Val a questioning look, and Val nodded. Enthusiastically, even. The both of them were near their breaking point - whatever was wrong with this town, they’d figure it out in the morning.

Friday nodded back.

“Thank you, that would be lovely,” Val said. It was as if he could read Friday’s mind. He knew she was dead on her feet, and understood her silent plea to take the reins.

“In that case, loves, come along, grab your things,” Lonnie said. She took off quickly across the square, and Friday and Val struggled to keep up, laden under their baggage.

Soon enough, Lonnie stopped in front of an inviting building, gold light streaming from its windows. It was made of brick, as were all the buildings around it. And low to the ground, too, not like the Vegas buildings that usually had two levels. If not for the apple trees, the whole town could have almost disappeared into the tall grass. What really struck Friday was how clean it was. Even a new city like Vegas was stained with grime and smog. This hotel looked like it had popped out of the earth just yesterday.

Val eagerly forged ahead, opening the front door to the tinkling of a bell. Friday squinted through the windows, but she didn’t get a good look before Lonnie shepherded her inside.

“Well, I’ll be leaving you folks in the competent hands of the Grand Hotel,” Lonnie chirped. She turned to Friday, and gave her a little wink. “Welcome to Oklahoma City.”

epilogue 7 || 8.2

#story

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spnfam21 · 4 years

Text

A Painfully Beautiful Life

Summary: Dean and Sam just finished a hunt and are headed back to the bunker. But, the stars are out, and they decide to go watch them just like when they were kids. Yet, they start to think about their life and what is yet to come. This is set mid-Season 15.

Note: This story just hit me straight in the face randomly tonight. I was listening to this amazing, beautiful song called "My Tears Are Becoming A Sea" by M83 and was overwhelmed with emotions. While the second half of Season 15 won't be out till the fall, I can't help but remember how this show was supposed to end May 18. I wanted to write a story that not only reflected this upcoming climax in the storyline of the show, but also showcasing the Winchester brothers. I am so thankful, not only because we have a little more time left with these amazing characters, but also for them being created to begin with. I will always love Sam, Dean, Castiel, along with so many other phenomenal characters like Jack, Crowley, Charlie, Bobby, etc. I hope you enjoy this short story. It means a lot to me. Here we go.

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Sam and Dean had just finished a hunt with a vengeful spirit terrorizing a small town in the northern part of Kansas. The boys had decided to go on the hunt by themselves so that Cas and Jack could keep researching what they could do to stop Chuck. Billie had not yet resurfaced again to give Jack his next step to enable him to put a halt to the deity, so the family had decided to just continue to look in more books and websites for information.

The Winchester brothers were exhausted from their hunt. They were about an hour out from the bunker, and sleep was calling Dean’s name. However, as he sat behind the steering wheel of his beloved Baby, he took notice of a few things.

First, it was already nightfall. He removed one of his hands from the wheel to look at his watch, which read 8:47. He placed his hand back on the wheel.

Second, they were in the middle of nowhere. They were cruising on an empty road, fields upon fields surrounding them.

Third, it was a calm atmosphere. Dean had actually rolled his window down and turned his music off. He felt the cool air rush past his face. There were no sounds other than the purring of Baby’s engine. To make it even better, the stars were out. Not a cloud in the sky.

Lastly, Dean looked beside him and saw his younger brother sitting there, sleeping with his head lying against the window. It wasn’t an unusual sight to Dean. There had been countless times Dean has seen his brother in the exact same position. But, tonight was different. Tonight, Dean felt a feeling in his chest. A warm, big brother feeling.

The eldest Winchester pulled off to the side of the road. He turned the car off and quietly removed his keys. He watched Sam as he did so, and his baby brother didn’t even move a muscle.

Dean leaned back against the seat and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He felt so relaxed for the first time in a while. There were no noises whatsoever other than the few soft snores coming from his brother.

It was truly calming and peaceful.

Sam started to stir a little bit. He recognized the Impala had stopped moving and figured they were back home. However, when he opened his eyes, the bunker was nowhere in sight. Instead, he saw the barren road, a field next to him, and his brother leaning back in his seat with his eyes closed. A small smile was on his face.

That smile made Sam’s heart grow ten sizes. He wanted his brother to always have that smile. But, unfortunately, it had not been graced upon his older brother’s face in a long time.

Sam wanted his brother to be happy.

Sam moved slightly in his seat in order to readjust himself. Having heard some rustling beside him, Dean opened his eyes. The two brothers made eye contact finally.

“Hey Sammy.”

“Hey Dean.”

Dean looked around at his surrounding and then back to his little brother. “Look, we can get back on the road if you want. I’m sure you’re tired still from the hunt. I just realized how beautiful tonight was and wanted to take a minute to enjoy it.”

Sam looked around and noticed the night sky. The stars were calling out to him. Sam had always loved looking at the stars when he was younger. When they were kids, Dean would sometimes sneak out and bring Sam along with him just so they could watch the stars.

“I don’t mind at all. Do you wanna watch the stars for a few minutes? Then, we can head back.”

Dean smiled and nodded. “That sounds like a fantastic plan.”

The brothers opened the front doors of the Impala, the squeaky sound a familiar greeting to them. They both walked around to the front of the car and sat leaning against the hood, watching the stars.

Both boys could agree on one thing as a fact: It was truly mesmerizing.

The stars twinkled with such brightness, Sam thought they were dancing in the sky. Dean took note of how vast and expansive the night actually was. In all honesty, this scenery around them plus the calmness that enveloped their surroundings made it feel like they were in a cinematic masterpiece.

Dean could still feel that warm feeling in his chest, and it just wouldn’t go away. He hated to break the silence, but felt he needed to say something.

“This is truly so beautiful.”

Sam responded, “Yeah, Dean. I have to agree with you there.”

Dean started to feel a warm, wet sensation in his eyes. At first, it caught him off guard. Suddenly, he realized why.

This was amazing.

And he didn’t want it to have to end.

But, with Chuck focused on ending his story, this could all disappear. This magnificent moment: gone. And, at the center of it all, were Sam and Dean. Chuck’s “perfect ending.”

One brother killing the other.

Dean realized right then and there how much he has to fight for. Not only for his own well-being, but also for that of this gorgeous world they get to live on. For the millions of people who have this precious gift of life. For his family and those they have lost along this journey.

For Sam. His little brother who he had to raise. His mission in life has always been to keep him safe. Dean felt he had failed him way too many times after all Sam had been through over the years. Yet, as he looked over at the younger Winchester who was still staring up at the sky with the same curiosity and wonder he had as a child, Dean wanted Sammy to live. He wanted him to enjoy the rest of his life.

And honestly, Dean wanted to be there with him to live it, too.

“Dean, you okay?”

Dean glanced over to his brother. Sam had been caught up with the beauty of the night sky when he heard a quiet sniffle. As he looked at his older brother, he noticed the tears falling slowly down his face. He was concerned if his brother was hurt or something.

“Yeah, Sam. Just being reminded of the important things in life right now.”

Sam was caught off guard with that answer. Dean always claimed to not like chick-flick moments, but was getting better at not caring anymore and showing his emotions. But, Sam wasn’t prepared for that.

“What do you mean?”

Dean turned a little while still leaning on Baby, his leg slightly chilling on the hood so he could look at Sam better.

“I’ve just been thinking about how painfully beautiful life is. Like, here you and I are, both been to literal hell and back, and yet we’re still here somehow. We carry a lot of baggage on ourselves. We’ve been through crap that would haunt other people to their graves. I mean, we’ve both died countless times. But, somehow we’re still here, watching the stars just like we did when we were kids.”

Sam was trying to follow along with where Dean was going with this. “Yeah, man. That’s true. I still don’t see you’re point, though.”

“My point is how lucky we are. Listen, when we look back on our lives from a bird’s eye view, you wouldn’t believe me. You would probably believe me as much as if I said I loved Celine Dion. Don’t get me wrong, dude, we have been through the damn wringer. I mean, we’ve lost so many friends and family. We haven’t really caught a break our whole lives. We’ve both been through torture and unimaginable pain. Yet, even with all that being true, there has been some light. Jack is alive again. Our family is whole again. And, man, I look back at all of the memories I’ve had. From learning to drive Baby and watching you take your first steps, to drinking whiskey while watching movies together and singing Bob Seger as his music blasts from the speakers. I’m thankful for those moments.”

Sam looked at his brother and then back at the stars. He hadn’t really thought about all of that.

“I guess you’re right. But, what made you think of this now?”

Dean turned his head to look back at the stars, too. “I don’t know. The atmosphere here is just so amazing and made me realize how I want to live every moment to the best of my abilities. And how we won’t go down without a fight, even against Chuck.”

Sam snapped his head to look at his brother at the mention of his name. “You’re right. We’re gonna do our best. But I just don’t know how this is all gonna play out. If we don’t win, then we’re dead. If we do, then what? What comes next?”

Dean thought back to a time when he was younger and Sam would always ask him questions he never could answer. First about monsters and hunting, then about why mom had to die and why he couldn’t live a life like the kids around him. Dean would make up some answer and do his best to not upset his younger sibling.

“Honestly, I don’t know. We’ve been fighting the good fight for a long time. All our lives. We could keep hunting. Or, we could finally retire like we talked about a while ago. Enjoy some peaceful times, like this.”

Sam laughed a little at that. “Yeah, that would be nice. But, I don’t know if that will ever really be a reality for us.”

“Maybe not. But, we do have Cas and Jack. We have our family. And we have each other. No matter what happens, we can get through it together. You and me against the world, just like we have always done.”

Sam looked over to his big brother. The guy he had always admired and looked up to his entire life. He felt so overwhelmed and even hopeless about this upcoming battle with Chuck. But seeing Dean’s hope and faith in their family, Team Free Will 2.0, helped him to feel better. Maybe they could do this.

“Thanks, De.”

Dean gently slapped his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You ready to head on back?”

Sam looked at the stars again. “Maybe a few more minutes.”

Dean smiled.

“Of course, little brother.”

#supernatural #supernatural blog #supernatural one shot #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #spn #spn fanfiction #spn blog #supernatural season 15 #sam winchester #dean winchester #brothers #spnfamiiy #fandom #fanfiction #stargazing #fluff #spn fluff #emotional

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therenegaderadio · 7 years

Photo

RENEGADE RADIO PRESENTS: – A MEETING AT THE STATION

Admin: Just after sunset at the Killjoys' gas station hideout. An odd group of rebels sit in the main room, gathered around a worn wooden coffee table. In the middle of the old, green couch, sits Garrett Uley, around him others have squeezed into the cushions, into the surrounding armchairs, or have sat on chairs brought in from the kitchen. Some are standing behind the others, preferring to stay out of the conversation and listen. Garrett clears his throat.

Garrett: "I'd say welcome–" Garrett drew a breath, the grave expression on his face growing even darker as he thought about how to phrase his words. "But this isn't an occasion that fits with something like that. We all know why we're here. Some of you know each other, some of you don't, but Killjoy territory is neutral territory, so everyone better behave. With us are a couple of civilians, and I'll let one of them begin. Luka – what've you find out about the location?"

Luka: Luka cleared his throat, peering up from his phone with mild surprise, as if he hadn't been expected to be 'called upon.' "Oh... yeah! Alright." He pushed himself off the wall, shoving his phone in his pocket. "I've sent an image over to Garrett with the general location. It's in an abandoned subway and since it's so far down, I couldn't get an exact exact location. But it's been narrowed down to within a mile, so it shouldn't take long if we have the people. It's in the Northern part of the city. I got a few confirmations of abnormal amounts of assfucks- I mean Government activity. Ta-da."

Luka: "Oh yeah. Silas got us a vehicle. Aaaaaand some things for the handcuffs. Nifty little gadgets." With that, Luka took his place back against the wall, his face illuminated by his phone screen once more.

Trayson: Trayson planted his feet up on an empty chair beside him, arm rested on the back of his own as he let out a long yawn. "Right so, when we goin' in with guns a'blazin? Plan? Entrances? We got a map of the facility? We splittin' up or do I have to whip more of ya fuckers into shape?" He noticed a few familiar faces around the room, winking at some pretty thing he couldn't remember if he'd seen before.

Remi: Back against the wall, Remi stood with his arms crossed and his brows furrowed, Silas at his side. He didn't have anything to contribute to the meeting, and so remained in silence, watching, listening. He wasn't a fighter, and planned to stay with Sy for the duration of the rescue – but if he was coming, he was coming prepared.

Birdie: "I texted this guy, Maxwell Billings, big Government PR fucker with a shitload of money. He knows Bambi and Harlee. Said he'll give as much as we need for weapons and shit," Birdie said. "Plus, I got access to Queenie's guns but she'll be fuckin' pissed if any of you fuck 'em up, so I can't go givin' 'em all away."

Garrett: "We'll be going in with a lot of guns," Garrett nodded, "and we'll need as many people on them as possible. It shouldn't take us too long to find the location, but we'll have to move fast. Explosives on the entrance, and then… guns blazin'. This place can't be big, but there's bound to be alarms, security. Luka will disable those he can, but our top priority is to get out with the prisoners as soon as we can and bring them to the rendezvous point."

Yara: "Who will take point?" Yara spoke up from a seat towards the back, her voice soft but clear.

Trayson: "Damn straight we got a lotta guuuuns," Trayson exclaimed in sing-song, humming to himself while donning a wicked grin. Then he leaned toward Birdie, trying to peer at what she had, "What'd she give ya? I wanna see..."

Garrett: "I will." Garrett glanced at the girl, then at the girl with the guns, then at Trayson, then at Arin. "And anyone else who volunteers."

Trayson: "I'm blowin' up the entrance."

Birdie: "A bunch of 'em are bound to be hurt. What're we doin' if they can't make it to the rendezvous point on their own two feet?" Birdie glanced over at Trayson. "Not for you. I don't need her to kill me 'cause I let you near her shit."

Arin: Arin, beside Birdie, nodded at Garrett, but didn't say a word.

Trayson: Trayson clicked his tongue at Birdie, scrunching his nose up, "Fiiiine. Only cause all of that is kinda hot. I got my own guns."

Luka: Luka glanced up from his phone, pausing on Remi, then Arin, noting who he recognized and who he didn't, "I can get more weapons if we need it, but my time is really better served elsewhere."

Luka: "Oh yeah, Kid. Remember Kid? He's a doc now. There's that too. He said he'd help with drugs and I don't know... maybe care?"

Garrett: "We'll have to carry them to one of the vehicles." Garrett fixed his eyes on Birdie again. "Those who can't take the route on feet will be prioritized for the places." He nodded at Luka. "If this Kid is qualified, he can wait there, ready to assist if anyone needs immediate patching up."

Luka: "Yeeeeah, I don't know how he'd do with a gun anyway. I can help carry people out if need be," Luka shrugged, keeping all of his attention on his phone now, even when he spoke.

Trayson: "So who the fuck here can actually do some damage beside our little corner?" Tray twirled a finger toward Birdie and the blonde guy next to her. He looked pissed off enough and Birdie hadn't told him to fuck off. "Oh, and Sir Garrett! Of course."

Julian: "I'll join the front." Julian stepped forward, closer to the ring of light that spilled from the lamp suspended above the coffee table. "Do we have drivers?"

Birdie: "I heard they're doin' some shit with their memories, too. Don't know if all of 'em will be willin' to come with us," Birdie said, glancing at Luka, and then Remi. She swatted Trayson's finger away. "Your little toy's gonna forget all about you, be serious."

Luka: Luka spoke up upon hearing Birdie, "I'm cool with driving. And yeah, I heard that too, from that Max guy Birdie's talkin' about."

Garrett: "Worst case scenario…" Garrett sighed. "We'll have to force them to. Most important thing is getting 'em somewhere safe. We can deal with the rest when that's done."

Luka: "I asked Kid for some sedatives, if need be. I'll make sure he brings it in a form easy enough to force people to take if we need to. Some of 'em," he looked at Garrett, smirking, "Can be carried by some of us stronger folks."

Birdie: "I've only got my bike but I bet we can Billings to give us some transportation for those of us who'll drive but don't have cars."

Silas: Silas grumbled from his spot next to Remi, less than pleased that he actually had something worth contributed, and that needed to be. "I got vehicles."

Trayson: "I'm being serious. I make amazing explosives." He turned to Arin, grinning wide as he held a hand out, "Hi. I'm Trayson. I recognize you now. Lost Boy king. Cute."

Birdie: "Queenie hates you enough, Trayson. Shut the fuck up before your mouth gets sewn shut."

Trayson: "I don't know why that would matter... I'm making friends."

Arin: "Shut up." Arin didn't even bother fixing his eyes on the brunet, instead keeping them on the center of the group, paying attention to the more important conversation.

Trayson: "Ugh. What are they related? They have the same fuckin' manners, that's for sure." He turned around in his seat, directing his attention back at Garrett

Birdie: "Alright, quiet boy over there's got cars. I got the guns covered. Luka's bringin' the med kid. What else do we need?"

Luka: "I'm trying to find out how many bodies are in there beforehand. At least a guess. That way we're more prepared. Should take another... maybe six hours?"

Garrett: "An insider." Garrett paused, drawing a breath. "The Killjoys have a connection in the Government's ranks. As long as it doesn't risk his position, he could help. I'll contact him myself."

Birdie: "Your list only Government or prisoners, too? We should know how many we're tryin' to save before we go in there so we don't accidentally forget one."

Luka: "I sent the list out already. I'm working on Government." Luka held his phone up briefly to show Corbin something, then had it pulled back in close within seconds.

Garrett: "We have a list of prisoners. Anyone want me to read it?"

Trayson: Trayson sighed loudly, picking up one of his guns to begin calibrating. "I mean we know they're taken, can't we just get a number, take attendance or some shit and get on with it?"

Birdie: "As long as we all know who we're goin' in there for, I don't think we need all the names." Birdie paused. She lowered her voice. "Do we have a list of the ones they've killed already?"

Birdie: Birdie hit Trayson's arm. "Shut. The fuck. Up."

Garrett: "The number, Trayson," Garrett shot the other Killjoy a glance. "Is twenty-two."

Trayson: "What? It's not an awful idea."

Trayson: "Names boggle shit down."

Trayson: "Thanks buddy!" He waved at Garrett.

Luka: "Oh... right. Dead list. I have one of those."

Birdie: "Please, share with the fuckin' class."

Luka: Luka frowned at Birdie, rolling his eyes before swiping his finger across his screen, "There's four dead."

Birdie: "Gangs?"

Luka: Luka frowned further as he examined the list, "Two Lost Boys, one Crybaby, one Doll." Then he listed off the names, clearly discontented by the Crybaby name.

Corbin: Corbin, biting the inside of his lip, listened to the list of the dead with an expression set in stone. His heart skipped a beat at the name of the Crybaby. It wasn't anyone he had known well, but it cut deep all the same. Glancing at Arin, he saw muscles working in the blond Lost Boy leader's jaw as he clenched his teeth, looking… furious.

Birdie: Birdie held in her sigh of relief. Bambi was alive. She turned to face Arin, clapping a hand on his shoulder before quickly dropping it to her side.

Trayson: Trayson glanced back at Arin and Bridie, pursing his lips, "Hmmm... don't worry. I promise to make sure one's alive for you to kill personally for your loss." He flashed a smile, then went back to his gun.

Arin: "Don't." Arin warned Birdie, relieved when her touch was no more than a tap on his shoulder. His blood was boiling inside of him, and he was itching to set off already, a semi-automatic in each hand – but it wouldn't yield anything but his death. His stormy eyes touched the brunet Killjoy's for a millisecond before moving away.

Birdie: Birdie nodded, a sign of a quick apology to Arin. "So. How much more time do we need before we go in there?"

Luka: Luka followed Corbin's gaze, noticing how angry Arin looked, and noting that he was glad he didn't see that side to him the other day at his parlor. "I can get the security shut off within a matter of minutes. I can keep things down for... maybe thirteen minutes at best? Then it'll reboot and I'd have to begin again, but they'll be alerted if it continuously cycles power."

Garrett: Garrett nodded at Luka, picking up the trail where he left off. "In addition to the six hour prep time for Luka, to find the Agents in there, I'm willing to bet another couple hours to get everything ready to make our move. I think we should go in at curfew tomorrow night."

Birdie: "Meet at the rendezvous point?"

Garrett: "10 PM sharp."

Silas: "Send me how many vehicles you need and where you need them dropped off. I can drive if y'need another."

Corbin: "I'll drive as well," Corbin added, looking from Silas to Garrett.

Garrett: "Great." Garrett stood, clapping his hands together once. "Get some rest, guys. Big day tomorrow."

#event: the black site #event #misc: chatzy #pink skull presents

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qvicksilversass · 7 years

Text

Bad Habit - Part 6

(Pietro Maximoff x Reader)

You finally have Pietro’s location, but what will you find?

Words: 1732 Warnings: Mentions of blood & dead bodies, angry Wanda

An: Hope you like it, the next chapter will be posted this time next week 😜 x

Tags: @goal-mine, @aweways, @iamtheoneocares, @wellfuckbuck, (Let me know if you want to be tagged/removed in this or anything else)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Masterlist

"I can't sense him, something's wrong." Wanda's voice drifted down the corridor as you approached the flight deck with Bucky.

"Y/n, its not a good idea."

Bucky was right but you dismissed him. You wanted to plead with her, tell her how you felt his pain and heard his screams just as she had. You never wanted him to leave, you were sorry, you just had to make her see that.

Yet when you stepped onto the flight deck and saw her what was left of your resolve fell away. The way her eyes flashed scarlet and bore into yours, her face set into and angry glare, you knew nothing would help your case. She hated you. Whether it was your fault or not, you were her outlet for blame, a channel for all her worry and anger.

"What is she doing here?!" Wanda hissed, red mist circling her hands.

"Wanda," Steve rose from his seat and put his hand on Wanda's shoulder, she flinched away from him, "she can help us."

"She is good for nothing..."

"Don't force me to leave you on the jet." Steve warned her.

Though her powers stopped flowing through her hands, her eyes blaze with anger and she approaches you, Bucky quickly moving his body in front of yours shielding you. She ignored him and kept her eyes on you, she was terrifying.

"Stay out of my way y/n, and know if Pietro doesn't survive this," she scoffed at Bucky, "no one will protect you from me."

Wanda stormed past you both with a snarl on her lips. Even though you knew it was worry and pain driving her to be this way, it still hurt. Couldn't she tell how much your heart was breaking at the thought of Pietro being hurt? Knowing that he was probably being tortured and experimented on again. How could she not feel the constant dread and worry that ran through your mind every second, the guilt at the thought that it was all your fault?

"We land in three," Clint broke the awkward silence that had settled over you all after Wanda left, "get ready kids."

You were studying the plans for the base and didn't look up. Steve sat beside you and his hand reached around your waist, giving it a quick squeeze.

"Don't take it to heart kid, once we rescue Pietro this will all blow over."

Steve meant well, but you weren't sure who he was trying to convince, he knew if Pietro was alive they had to have done something to him. You didn't even know how long Pietro had been there, trapped and alone.

"I don't know cap, revenge is kind of their thing once they set their minds to it."

"Not helping, Tony."

The base was strangely quiet, no guards patrolled outside, there were no vehicles and your scans showed no signs of life. Warily you made your way inside finding it equally deserted. Card games, bottles of beer and training rooms were left abandoned as though the occupants had just disappeared into thin air.

"Do you think it's a trap?" You asked Steve, observing him as he walked over to a large patch of blood spatter along the wall, still dripping.

"Whatever this is, it's not good...Wanda, can you sense Pietro? Anyone?"

You averted her gaze as she shook her head, she was growing more and more agitated, "We're wasting time, we have to find him."

"Isn't this the part in the movie where the monster picks us off one by one?" Clint smirks, withering under Wanda's glare.

"Let's just find Pietro and get the hell out of here." Bucky muttered.

"Pair up, we don't know what we've walked into here."

"Y/n, we'll take the northern-"

Wanda snorted, "Catelus câine sărac Barnes, îți pierzi timpul, ea nu te va iubi."

"Shut your damn mouth, witch." Bucky growled with such anger the whole team's attention was on them both, Wanda's smile not wavering as he moved toward her.

"Buck? Come on lets go." You ran over and gently took his arm, he flinched at first, his jaw set and face flushed, his eyes only calming a little when they found yours and he allowed you to pull him away.

"Adevarul doare, iarna." Wanda carried on with a bitter laugh and though you couldn't understand the words there was no mistaking the venom behind them.

"Nu știi nimic!" Letting her words get under his skin Bucky snapped, roughly shoving you to side.

"Bucky, stop!" Placing yourself in front of him, you start pushing against his chest, using all your strength to hold him back before he did something he'd regret, only making him more determined, your feet sliding back along the floor.

"Move y/n!"

"Ești atât de slab, soldat-"

"That's enough!" Steve yells, getting their attention and grabbing Wanda's wrist, "you're with me."

Steve drags Wanda away and Bucky fumes, his metal fist clenching as his eyes follow her until they are out of sight.

"Are you-"

He raises his hand to quiet you, "Just don't."

Running his hand through his hair, he turns and picks up his gun, careful not to catch your eye as he storms off. Why would Wanda have such hostility towards Bucky? It was you she blamed for Pietro. Whatever her reasons she had succeeded in riling him up, he had closed himself off again. All you could do was give him time, so you kept quiet and followed behind him.

The corridor was almost pitch black as you made your way through the northern section of the base, the faint hum of electrics and your footsteps the only sound.

"What did she say to you?" It had been nearly an hour and he still wouldn't look at you making you more worried, "Buck?"

"It doesn't matter." He was trying to ignore what Wanda had said, keep his mind on the mission, however Bucky's reaction had told you otherwise. Now you wished you'd had Pietro teach you Sokovian, if you knew maybe you could help him.

"She didn't mean it, she's just hurting."

"Oh she meant it."

"Bucky, you know-"

"Shhhsh." His arm shot out, pinning you back against the wall.

"What is it?" your whisper caught in your throat when he glanced back at you, the sound of heavy footsteps and voices getting louder.

"Trouble."

There were far two many of them, Steve and the others were facing their own problems, leaving you to fend for yourselves. You were starting to run out of ammo and they were nearly on you, gaining ground with every passing minute.

"In here, now."

Bucky pushed you inside a small room just off the corridor and locked the door, you banged on the glass frantically trying to type in the correct code. What the fuck was he doing?

"Don't come out until it's clear, you hear me?!" Bucky shouted through the small pane of glass, his eyes full of worry.

"Barnes! You better let me out!" You shook your head at him, you could help, what use were you in here? What use were you to Pietro?

"You hear me y/n? I need to know you're safe."

You put a hand on the glass reluctantly nodding, "Don't you die!"

He smirked over his shoulder at you before turning the corner, leaving you alone with the sounds of explosions rocking the building.

Sliding down the back of the door you lean against the cold metal, the red emergency lights flashing on and off. The room was small and empty, you would go stir crazy in here. You call over the coms a few times, cursing when no one responds. You feel useless again, just like on that first mission. You were the stupid little girl with stupid powers that were of no use in a real fight.

Pacing the small room, you search the walls for any abnormality, anything that could get you out. There's a strange blood stain on the opposite wall smeared into a crude Hydra symbol. While examining it you feel a breeze tickle your fingers. Strange. You take out your scanner and put a little pressure on the same spot, stepping back when the wall slides open revealing a long dark corridor.

The lights flicker on and off as you step onto the metal ramp, it shakes with every step and you hang on to the rail, noticing the complete darkness below you. The stench of death makes you heave and you pass body after body, having to step over them, their lifeless bodies mangled and strewn over the ramp. Whoever killed them wanted them to suffer, bones broken at all angles, snapped necks, slit throats, it was insane.

What was left of an operating room seemed to be the only unlocked room, medical tools had been thrown around, there were more mutilated bodies and a blood stained trolley, the torn straps hanging down the sides. You didn't dare think what had happened in there.

Eventually the ramp led you to an open warehouse space filled with machinery. Cryo chambers and holding cells were scattered around, some were operational, however all the occupants were dead, each one shot through the head.

Weaving between the chambers and cells, you wander further into the center and catch the faint, distorted beeping of a broken alarm off to your right. You follow the sound to the far end of the space, the only light coming from a fogged up glass cell hidden behind another destroyed chamber.

A body slumps over the cracked control panel, a doctor or scientist you guessed from the once white lab coat he wore and you move him out of the way, bringing up the log screen. It was odd, the cell hadn't been used for weeks until six hours ago. The last sequence was set to auto lock with a delay of three seconds, with no information on who was inside.

Almost as if whoever was inside had...the growl got your attention first, breaking your thoughts, followed by the deafening crash of something heavy striking the glass. Heart pounding you peer through a gap in the condensation, blue light trails around the cell erratically, too fast for you to focus on. It fires towards you and you stumble backwards, clumsily grabbing for your gun and holding it out towards the cell with trembling hands.

"Pietro?"

Part 7

#pietro maximoff #pietro x reader #aaron taylor johnson #quicksilver #pietro maximoff x reader #quicksilver x reader #bucky barnes #captain america #scarlet witch #my stuff #my fics #bad habit #part 6 #marvel #avengers

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caught-intherye · 7 years

Text

Cost Of Education

Sitting in a room that seems to have 50 times the square footage of my entire house, on the 5th row from the top, I can see everyone below me but the last person I pay any attention to is the professor at the bottom. The girl seven rows before me looks like she woke up before the sun, with blonde streaked beach waves falling from her braid, wrapped around her head like a crown. The irony of the girl to her right who looks like she woke up with ten minutes before this class started, wearing a beanie finding her palm to be a perfectly good pillow in the middle of this lecture about the laws against prostitution. I could never be a prostitute I think too much bang for your buck I chuckle out loud at my joke, if I don’t who will? Now I’m distracted by the scent of bad body odor, for a second I’m self-conscience about my own odor and I can’t remember whether I put on deodorant or not but then I notice a guy beside me opened his gym bag to pull out his phone charger (I judge him ever so slightly for having a Samsung, he’s probably super techy). Almost everyone has their laptop out, none of which are actually taking notes, I can see three people playing box head, five people on tumblr and a whopping 14 people just making those blue squares appear on their desktop page. The only reason my lap top is open, is because I’d rather have my hands resting on a key board than the table in front of me. My attention falls back on my professor as he’s pacing back and forth without talking, did he notice no one was listening? Did he ever really think we were listening? Then the short round man pushes up his glasses with a huff and looks at the ground shaking his head as if trying to remember something. My laptop makes the noise notifying me that I got an iMessage. It’s my manager from Starbucks, asking if I can come in early this afternoon at three; it’s already two thirty but if I leave now I can make it. I decide this lecture isn’t more important than an extra two hours on the clock so I pack up and leave.

On a bus that smells like sweat and urine, but I’d rather that than the other thing you do in the washroom. Now picking at my nails making a mental note to get them done after work, whenever I get fake nails no one can even tell because I ask for then to be as short as my real nails, I can’t do my everyday duties with unrealistically long nails. I look out the windows and can see the smog blurring out the hills of northern California, maybe the pollution here is getting out of hand. I watch as a girl who looks like she couldn’t have seen more than thirteen summers light a cigarette and hope her mom doesn’t find out. Finally at my stop, I swing my green and brown backpack around and over one shoulder, trapping most of my hair under my strap; I’m used to it. As I’m standing at the back doors of the bus before they open I look down at my converse and realize my shoe lace is untied. Stepping off the bus I bend down to tie my shoe and my blue jean’s button pops open and my belly button feels free for the first time all day. Quickly fixing the wardrobe malfunction I look up and find my co-worker with his face pressed up against the glass window on the door giving me a creepy yet welcoming smiling. I hit him with an equally as creepy double eyebrow wiggle. I love how silly I can act at this job, and no one will think I’m actually silly, they’ll just think I’m cute and corky.

“That’s cute” Jeff says while holding the door open for me to walk through, “I know” I say back without making eye contact. Jeff is a good looking man who always has the right amount of stubble, hair colour that matches the coffee we make, not quite an afro but pretty curly. His eyebrows thick and unkempt above his hazel coloured eyes, his smile is super cute but he’s such a goof ball that I could only think of him as a little brother. I throw my black t-shirt over my tank top and wrap the apron around my waist. Sara is working today, and she always has positive vibes and makes me appreciate life a little more every time I see her. With her blonde hair below her ears, she greets me with a warm smile that causes her blue eyes to squint a little. She has a tattoo of the solar system, with the sun on her left elbow and all the planets placed on rings circling the center. I couldn’t be happier working with these two.

I’m on a break with Sara and we’re sitting on the wooden deck, she’s sipping a green tea with her legs crosses and I’m having a black coffee. We’re sharing a laugh while reminiscing all the times we purposely pronounce people’s name wrong when I get a text from a woman who works at my other job. She says she won’t be able to make her shift tonight and wants me to take it for her, I debate for a couple second but agree that I can never make too much money in one day so I take her up on her offer. I need to be on stage by ten so I need to make sure Jeff can drive me home fast. All my clothes, or lack thereof, is already in a canvas bag because I’m always on call for my night job.

I get home at 9:45, if I take my bike I can make it in time. “Hey Ella, where yea going, sweetie?” my mother asks, “I promised some friends that I would meet up with them for some drinks.” I respond walking right by her in our crowded kitchen. My mom takes a break from washing the dishes in the huge sink as I back track a couple steps to pick up a couple tangerines. “Why are you in such a rush?” inquiring while wiping her hands, “they are already at the bar, mom, I don’t wanna miss anything.” and I close the door behind me as I enter the garage from our kitchen. I take my fixed-gear bike off the metal hooks on the concrete walls, and I’m off at least 55 miles an hour. I like going fast, it’s dangerous but it blurs everything around me out and does the opposite for my mental space, gives me room to think. I’m thinking about how far I’ve come turn left with my mom, she hasn’t given me shit for a while about going out, that’s just the beauty in growing up turn right I guess. Ok I should be thinking about something more productive. So no school tomorrow speed bump perfect time to get my nails done turn left I’ll ask Alex to come with me, she probably needs a manicure as well. Now I’m turning into a laneway where I enter through a backdoor. The same security guard gives me the same cut eye for bringing my bike in but I don’t trust people on this side of the city.

My bike is resting against the wall and now my regular clothes resting at the bottom of this grey locker. I slip on my pink string-like bottoms, this colour looks a lot better on me when I had a tan. I should plan a day to go to the beach soon, maybe with my mom – I feel like I never hang out with her anymore. As I pull my top over my head that cuts off right under my nipple, Amanda walks into the room. She’s one of my favourite girls who work here, today just keeps getting better and better! “Hey girl!” she says with her southern accent. “Hey Mandy, I didn’t know you were working tonight.” She doesn’t like being called Mandy (says it just doesn’t sound right) but I call her that partly to mess with her; mostly because it adds some innocence to what it sounds like we do here. Without acknowledging the nickname she says, “I didn’t know you were either” then she dropped her leather bag with tassels from her broad shoulder, she was the only girl I knew who could pair that bag with a pair of low cut pale pink cowboy boots and a short jean jacket and still look cool and casual. “Yea, I don’t usually work on Tuesdays, I’m covering Amy’s shift. God knows why she couldn’t make it.” Before responding Amanda already had her floral sun dress on its way over her head. “I know why couldn’t make it too.” She replied while bringing one finger up to her nose, closing nostril with it and sniffing the air, I could only laugh in agreement.

NOW PRESENTING …. CANDI DARLING

I strut out onto the stage, using my best bedrooms eyes and scan over every man in the audience until one man stops me dead in my tracks. My round, bald headed, four eyed Professor.

#jesswrites #shortstory #fiction #hehe #ohno

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sending-the-message · 6 years

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My Great Uncle's Hiding something big. Very big. by ItsMeRoyale

My family likes to go on a lot of trips. We mostly drive to many places, packing everything we need for the road. It's pretty much a big hassle every time.

I always end up going crazy after sitting for many boring hours cooped up in the car, so you can understand my reluctance when my parents told me we were visiting my great uncle. He lives up in the Northern part of the U.S. and the drive was expected to take more than 10 hours.

"We haven't seen him for a long time, and his wife passed away 2 years ago, remember?" My mother was always the one to have a certain reason to go somewhere. It was no use arguing with her.

I've only heard stories, and seen pictures, of Great Uncle Claus throughout the years, but never actually gotten around to meeting him. My parents said he visited us many times when I was little, but one day, he mysteriously disappeared without a trace. Only recently did we hear from him, and his excuse was that he had run away to achieve a better life, a better job.

Anyway, I lost the argument with my mother, and so the trip was set. We were going to visit Uncle Claus.

The drive there took way longer than expected, but I somehow pulled myself together. We were driving along a mountainous region because his house was on top of the hilly area. My uncle had called us earlier to ask how far we had gotten.

"I'm going to apologize if you don't get parking easily," he had said, "I'll try to make some room."

After hearing that, I imagined his house to be a small, wooden shack. He probably didn't even have room to park his own car. However, my mindset completely changed when we arrived.

As we pulled into the main entrance, my jaw dropped.

Sitting in front of me was a huge mansion, spanning for acres. The whole ground was flat on top of the mountainous area, with trees lining everywhere. The driveway ran straight from the large gate, to the front of the house. There was a huge lawn, a fountain of a fish statue with water gushing out of it's mouth, and other statues on pillars lining the driveway. The mansion itself stood tall in the daylight, towering over the whole landscape.

But what amazed me even more was the amount of super cars that were parked in the front. Ferrari, Bugatti, Lambos, Porche, Martins, and every other expensive car I could think of. They were parked everywhere. No wonder my uncle said we were going to have trouble finding a place to park. The guy was fucking rich.

"Holy shit," I whispered to myself, as we got out of the car.

My parents wore my same expression as they looked at the house. We weren't expecting this at all.

As we stared, I heard my name being called out from the front porch. Standing there, was my Uncle Claus.

"Welcome! Welcome!" he said as he walked towards us, a smile tucked behind a white beard and a white mustache. He actually looked like Santa Claus, aside from his small bald head. He was also wearing spectacles, a golf shirt with a thick brown jacket, and dark blue pants.

He walked up to me, and put his hands on my shoulders. "Wow, you've grown a lot from when I last saw you," he laughed.

I smiled. Maybe this trip was a little worth it after all.

"You've grown a little yourself," my father answered back, joking.

Uncle Claus rubbed his belly, "I've been trying to keep on my diet," he then turned to look at my mother, "I know you still haven't gotten over my absence, but I promise, I'm not going to leave again."

My mother's eyes teared up, and she replied with a hug. A long one.

After all the sentimental nonsense, Uncle Claus led us into the mansion. I was really excited to check the whole place out. It looked even better on the inside. There were high ceilings, spiraling staircases, large paintings, large pillars, and a huge chandelier that hung at the entrance.

"I gotta hand it to you Uncle Claus, this is really nice," I told him.

"Thank you. You know, with a little hard work, and luck, you could pull this off too." He patted my back, "Now, feel free to check everything out while I make sure your rooms are ready."

"We'll come with you," my mother said as she nudged my father towards Uncle Claus who was walking to the staircase.

"I'll catch up with you guys," I shouted over to them.

I then walked over to the paintings, and inspected them. They were life-size portraits of different landscapes, painted in vivid color, and portrayed so beautifully as if I could just step into them. There was also a portrait of Uncle Claus that hung over the fireplace near the big living room. The walls were lined with packed bookshelves around the whole area. Uncle Claus sure loved to read. I walked around the mansion even more, visiting every room. He had an indoor swimming pool, as well as an outdoor one. There was a huge library, a basketball court, two large kitchens, bedrooms, a game room, and even a home theatre. Uncle Claus had everything, and it made me feel guilty for underestimating him earlier.

I kept taking a tour of the house, looking at everything in wonder. As I was walking around one of the hallways of the first floor, I started to hear an unusual noise coming from the floor below me. At first, I thought it was the air conditioning or some other pipe making the noise, but as I stopped walking, and listened harder, it sounded like small whimpering.

"The hell?" I got on my knees, and put my ear to the floor.

I could faintly hear something, as if someone was crying. "Uh....hello? Anyone there?" I was hoping someone didn't come walking down the hallway, and see me talking to the floor. It felt stupid enough already.

There was no reply. Of course there's no reply you idiot, my brain told me, It's just a damn floor.

I laughed at myself. I decided to just put it off as my imagination, I mean, who would be under the floors? It didn't make any sense, plus, this house didn't have a basement.

I was just about to get up and walk away, when, to my shock, there was an answer.

"Hello? Hello? Who's there? Hello?" It was a female voice. She sounded scared, timid.

The sudden answer jolted me to my feet. I checked my ears to make sure I was hearing this right. "What the hell?....who...who are you?" I asked.

"M..My name is Ellie. You have to help me, please, I..I can't get out of here." Her voice was weak. I leaned in closer to the floor.

I tried to find the words to speak. "How? Why are you under the floor?"

"I...I'm trapped here. He kidnapped me."

"Who did?"

"He's old...bald, white hair,....I..I think he owns this place."

I didn't answer back. Was she talking about Uncle Claus? Why would Claus kidnap her? All of these questions ran through my head in seconds. I didn't think this was some sort of elaborate joke. Something was definitely wrong here.

"Are you still there?" Ellie asked.

"Still here. Now where-" My question was interrupted by the sound of footsteps, and Uncle Claus's voice.

I quickly whispered back to Ellie. "Ellie, I have to go. I'll be back for you, I promise."

"Please come back."

"Don't worry, I will."

I raised myself off the floor. Someone was down there, and they needed my help. I decided to come back when everyone was asleep. For now, I would have to wait.

"Son! Where are you?" I heard Uncle Claus' voice echoe towards the high ceiling as I heard the thuds of his shoes. I approached him slowly as he walked down the spiral staircase.

"What happened to you?" he asked, "You look like you've seen the dead walking around."

"Uh, I'm just, I have no words to describe this place. It's amazing."

"Well, I'm glad you like it." He smiled, " Anyway, your parents are upstairs getting settled, so I was thinking we'd have a little talk in the meantime, while we're alone."

"Sure."

He walked me down to the library section of the house until we stood at its entrance.

"As you might know son," Uncle Claus said, his voice turning into a deep, serious tone, "I have been gone for awhile, away from my family, away from anyone. After Laura died, it...it left me empty, hopeless. All I had left was my own research, and my humility."

He turned to look back at the doors, "But, there was one piece of hope that still resided in me. It was in the core of my research, in its foundation."

He carefully unlocked the doors to the library, and they both opened slowly with a loud creek. As the library revealed itself, my eyes gazed in wonder. The interior of the place was teeming with books. They overflowed from high cabinets that stretched to the walls, and books were also laid across many tables especially the floor. The entrance had a huge carpet that led from one side of the room to the other, and two staircases that lined up on either side, leading to a second floor balcony that encircled the top of the library.

Uncle Claus lead me to the center of the room. A compass was painted directly in the middle of the interior, and he told me to stand on it with him. I edged forward and stood on the compass. Uncle Claus stood still for a few seconds looking at one of the windows of the library, and then looking back at the compass on the floor. He repeated this action a few more times and then finally smiled.

"There we are," He said, "Come, I have something to show you."

As I followed him, I decided to ask him what he had done earlier with the compass.

"It's relatively straightforward son, but it's also easily overlooked. You see, I positioned the windows of the library in just a way that when sunlight, or moonlight, passes through it, it hits the compass at a certain angle. This, in turn, shifts the entrance to...well, you'll see."

He stopped after arriving at one of the bookshelves on the far side of the wall, "But, there's one downfall to the entrance system. It doesn't work during the night when there's a new moon."

Uncle Claus pulled two books out of the shelf to show a hidden lever in a small opening. He then pulled it down, and immediately, the bookshelf slid to the right. And in its place, was a small, lit up tunnel.

<>======<>

It took us a few minutes to walk down the steps of the tunnel, but we finally arrived at the end. The stairway led us to another small hallway. I thought the mansion on its own was incredible, but this, this was a whole new level. At the end of the hallway stood a black door. There was a keypad into which Uncle Claus punched in a code, and the door swung open. Once we were inside, I stood speechless again.

This "secret" place was an underground lab. There were computers and monitors that layered every wall, cabinets and shelves plastered with files, and lots of papers strewn across on desks.

"This, son, is my life's research. I've been hiding it for a very long time, well, until now."

"Uncle Claus," I asked, "What's all this about? What actually happened?"

He walked over to a table and sat down. "Come sit here, I'll start from the beginning." I walked over and sat down in front of him.

"I used to be the prime member of an organization dedicated to researching the most unexplainable events known to mankind. I'm sure you've heard of many incidents of people claiming to see creatures, unimaginable monsters. They're not all wrong. There are mysterious forces all around this world, and the ones we've encountered are just minimal instances," He leaned in closer, "But, I may have found a creature of devastating evil. A monster so vile, so full of death, it may just put all of us in danger."

"W..what did you find?" My voice was now a whisper.

Uncle Claus stared into my eyes, "I think, I think I found a real demon."

"How is that possible?"

"It's a long story son, I'll have to fill you in later. All you need to know is...the one I found isn't the last." Uncle Claus got up, "I think your parents are waiting, we better get going."

"Actually Uncle Claus," I stopped him, Can I please take a look around here?"

"Sure. You know what, how about I go see how your parents are doing while you take a few minutes in here?"

"Sounds good. Thanks."

He nodded and proceeded to walk out of the lab. I watched him as he made his way out of the lab.

After he left, I took a few moments to analyze any information that Uncle Claus had taken over the years on his research. Sure enough, there were some messed up cases in there, but those sounded like nightmares for another day. I was mainly focused on the demon. Uncle Claus had lots of sketches of the creature to define its shape. Long claws, crooked and broken wings, and a long, scaly body. It had three eyes on its forehead and two on each shoulder. Each eye had vertical irises. The sharp teeth were also hard to miss.

This can't be possible, I thought.

I examined more of the research. Uncle Claus had spent years figuring out the secret behind these entities. He tried to figure out why these creatures had gone unnoticed for a long time. But, he never really mentioned anything about where, or how, he encountered the demon. Looks like I'll have to ask him more questions.

As I was reading, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a small white door at the far corner of the lab. I didn't notice it earlier. Being curious, I decided to go check it out. It was the same size as the black door with a similar keypad. To my luck, I punched in the same code that Uncle Claus used, and the door swung open. (I made a mental note to apologize to Uncle Claus for using his code with permission.)

The interior of this room was surprisingly different from the main lab. The whole room was dark except for the lights that illuminated from very large tube-like cylinders. The large tubes were lined up in a straight row. Each cylinder was filled with a different color liquid. I walked down the row looking into each tube, but saw nothing in the liquid. However, as I neared the last tube, there was no fluid in it. Instead, a person was sitting in it.

It was a girl. She had her head in her arms.

"Ellie? Ellie is that you?" I asked her. I hoped I was right.

She looked up, "Y..yes...were you...were you the one that talked to me from up there?" She pointed at the top of the tube.

"Yeah. I promised I'd be back for you."

"How did you get in here?," she said as she stood up, putting her hand on the glass. She was wearing blue jeans and a tight jacket. She had long hair that flowed down to her back, and her expression looked weak and dejected.

"Let's just say, my Uncle Claus decided to show me some surprises."

"Uncle Claus?"

"You know the person you were talking about earlier? The one who kidnapped you?"

She nodded slowly.

"Well...that's my Great Uncle."

Ellie stood still for a few seconds.

"Don't worry Ellie, I'll get you out of here." I looked around for anything to break the tube's glass.

"There's a control panel over there," Ellie said, pointing to the corner of the room, "but I don't know the code."

I gazed to where she was pointing, and saw a small keypad panel that sat attached to the wall. I walked over to inspect it. As usual, it was the same keypad.

"If I'm not wrong..." I punched in the same code from all the other keypads, "this should work."

Right afterwards, I heard the sound of the tube opening. Ellie walked out, taking small steps at a time. "Thank you," she said, "You saved my life." But before I could reply, the sound of an alarm blared throughout the room.

"We have to go!" Ellie screamed over the loud noise.

We both ran out of the entrance to the room and made our way back into the main lab area. The alarm kept ringing in our ears.

"Follow me!" I yelled back at Ellie, but as I turned around to face forward again, standing a few feet in front of me was Uncle Claus.

"Son! What are you doing?" Uncle Claus shouted.

"Uncle Claus!" I yelled back, "How can you kidnap this girl? What has she ever done to you?"

"Get away from her! It's not safe!" Uncle Claus slowly approached us.

"You have to listen to me," He didn't finish his sentence. Instead, his eyes shifted to Ellie, and he pointed at her with trembling fingers, "She...she's...it." The words barely got out of his mouth.

I turned around to face Ellie, "Ellie, what is he talking abou-"

I couldn't speak either. I stared in horror as a small smile began to creep its way up her lips.

What scared me even more, was the withered, demented wings that began to form from behind her.

#reddit #nosleep #scary #story

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contrivedcoincidences6 · 7 years

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The Invisible Cord ch. 6

Looking for chapter 5?

November 2011 Location unknown

“How the hell did this happen?!” I yell at the useless clone before me. “They were working with someone. We have yet to find out who.” Spender’s clone responds as he puts another cigarette between his lips. I swat it out of his mouth in anger, “Check fucking security cameras! Talk to witnesses! Do what you have to do to find them! They are too valuable to lose!” “I understand ma’am but it may become more complicated if it turns out Mulder and Scully are involved…” He has the grace to look nervous as he suggests this. “If they get involved I will burn up your body and build a new one of you. It’s been done before. Maybe the next one will actually be able to do it’s fucking job. I don’t want to hear any more excuses take care of it.” The clone just stares at me for a moment and then nods, “And if Mulder and Scully are involved?” “Kill them.” I say and I feel a faint protest deep inside but push it aside. “I doubt it will be that easy.” “All I hear are more excuses.” “What if the children fight back?” “Don’t kill them. You can knock them out, sedate them, or anything else to get them to come with you but don’t kill them.” I make a mental note to talk to my biological engineer about making the clones more effective. “Who would you like me to take?” I look around the room at the various clones that we have in constant circulation. They are the syndicate. All of them have the memories and personalities of the real men who, in their pride, decided to record their consciousness before they died. I doubt they imagined it would be used in this way. That it would be used to make them slaves rather than leaders. That they would be forced to take their orders from a woman. A small smile forms on my lips as I recall all of the times they gave me various orders and degraded me. I have to admit that I get a sick kind of pleasure in seeing these once powerful men that I used to work for reduced to my lackeys. “Take Krycek and some back up. Next time I hear from you it better be to tell me you found them or you won’t live to try again.” I warn as he nods and walks away. “Jeffrey!” I snap and he materializes at my side. “Yes Diana?” He asks. “I want you to go keep an eye on Mulder and Scully. I don’t want them getting in the way of this. Take some of the grunts with you.” “Do you still want them dead if they interfere?” I pause at this. It’s been years since I’ve seen Fox but I still find my heart beats a little faster when I hear his name. I allow myself this one moment of weakness before I answer him. “Kill them and anyone else who tries to help them.”

November 2011 The Eagle 24- hour Café Washington D.C.

“Mulder it’s been two hours. No one is coming. It must have been some kind of prank.” I say slumped in my seat watching Mulder crush sunflower seeds between his teeth. “Just a little while longer Scully. They did say in the message between eight and midnight.” Mulder tells me, his eyes still focused intensely on the building in front of us. I sigh, “And that doesn’t seem a little odd to you?” “Of course it does. That’s why Skinner is on call. And why I did all that fancy maneuvering to make sure we were not followed.” I fiddle with the radio for a while until we see a nondescript car pull into the dark parking lot. I sit up and we watch as five people exit the car. Mulder puts the binoculars up to his eyes and I hear a sharp intake of breath. “What?” He doesn’t respond so I touch his arm, “Mulder, what is it?” “The clones of Samantha and Kurt Crawford.” He says softly. I take the binoculars from him and look for myself. The Kurt clone opens the door for the rest of the odd little group while he glances around suspiciously. With Kurt and Samantha are three teenagers who also seem jumpy. My eyes zero in on the girl with the red hair. There is a pang in my heart that I can’t account for when I look at her long red hair. I can’t get a look at her face as she tends to the girl with her. “Mulder…” I start. “Yeah I saw. It might be bait Scully. I mean they are sitting there with clones…” I am out the door before he can continue. Something is pulling me forward and I can’t name it. But I don’t stop until I reach the door and make eye contact with the Samantha clone. She nods her head at me and I feel a churning in my stomach. It’s as if my instincts have taken over, there are almost no thoughts in my head. “Scully wait…” Mulder says in a loud whisper as he runs over to me. I do wait for him. He comes up behind me and places a hand on the small of my back while he peers at my face. “Do you want to go in?” He asks. My eyes have not left the clones and I just nod. He opens the door for me and leads me in. Mulder’s hand on my back as usual is my anchor to reality as I try to decipher the confusing thoughts in my head. The whole table looks up at us as we enter. I freeze when I see her. She looks so different but I just know it’s her. It’s Emily. She blinks at me with hazel eyes. Her nose is long and straight but as a small closed lip smile crosses her face all I see is Mulder. I see him in her tall thin frame and bright eyes and it nearly kills me. My hands fly to my mouth and Mulder stops in his tracks. I can feel him shaking behind me as she gets up from her seat to stand before us. “Emily?” I say ready to sink to the floor. She nods silently and takes a step toward us but before she can I, against my better judgment, move forward and swallow her in my arms. The tears start almost right away. I picture myself before my abduction as I always have when I think of her. I picture how young I was and as always kick myself for not knowing I was pregnant, as if there was anything I could do about it. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” I hear the words coming from my mouth like a chant. Her arms wrap around me, “You don’t need to be.” “I gave up on you. I let you go. I should have fought for you.” All of the guilt that has haunted me for sixteen years pours out.

What surprises me first about my mother is how small she is. I wouldn’t call myself tall but I’m on the high end of average. But here stands my biological mother who is practically swallowed by the man next to her. They both stare at me like they’ve seen a ghost. And I suppose to them they have seen a ghost. When she calls me Emily I don’t bother to correct her. That’s all she knows me as. I let her cry and hold me close and I feel my own held back tears flow from my eyes. The warmth from her sinks into my bones and I feel myself slump in her arms. Her love is nearly overwhelming and I shake with it. Both of us begin to sink to the floor but are caught by the man who came in with her. When I look at him it’s my own eyes looking back at me. Kurt told me a little about them, about how hard their lives have been and I see it etched into every line of his face, as he looks at me, unbelieving. My mother gradually lets go of me when she feels his hand on her back. She puts her hand to my cheek and wipes away a tear before she moves out of the way and he moves slowly, as if afraid he will spook me. He tilts his head slightly and his eyes narrow just a bit as he takes in my face. His hands move to my shoulders and then I remember something. The image of this exact man but so much younger making a silly face in the foster center I was staying at. It was the first time I’d laughed since my mom’s death. I practically lunge at him and wrap my arms around his middle. He’s taken off guard by this but quickly pulls me close and I feel the wetness on his cheek against the top of my head. I can hear my mother talking to Kurt but I can’t hear anything except for the heartbeat of my father. That’s when I realize I have parents. They are real and they are here. After years of doubting and worry here they are in the flesh. “We can’t stay here.” Kurt’s voice breaks the spell. I feel my father’s hand cup the back of my head as he lays a kiss on my hair before releasing me to my mother beside us who’s worry is palpable. She takes my hand in both of hers but her eyes stay on Kurt. “Follow us.” He says and keeps looking around like he’s been doing since we left the motel. Both May and Brian watch us with bright eyes. Meeting their mother at a new motel is the next item on the agenda. “We’re not leaving her.” My mother’s voice comes out shaky. “Take her in your car then but we need to go.” “Where?” My father asks. “Just follow us.”

We are silent on the way across the street to our SUV. I hold on to Emily as we cross and both Mulder and I are continually looking back and forth to make sure we are not being watched. I get in the back of the car next to our daughter while Mulder gets behind the steering wheel. As he pulls out behind Kurt he puts his cell phone next to his ear. Emily’s fingers are long, thin, and intertwined with my own. I can still feel my heartbeat in my ears and I can’t stop looking around to look for signs of being followed. “Hey… Yeah... Everything is fine for now. I can’t tell you what’s up yet but I’ll call you again later tonight.” Mulder says into the phone and I know he is talking to Skinner. “Thanks again. I’ll keep you updated.” He hangs up as Kurt makes a sharp unexpected turn, driving like a madman. “Where have you been?” I can’t stop the question from passing my lips as I turn to look at Emily. Her eyes are sad, “My first memories are right after I turned five. I was in a hospital in Wisconsin. I got moved around for a few years until I was finally placed in a Catholic foster center in Chicago where I’ve been since I was ten.” We’d been to Chicago after losing her. One time when we were on the run we spent a whole week in northern Illinois. The pain of knowing I was in the same state as her twice is too much to bare. I hold her fingers tighter, “I’m sorry we didn’t find you.” “Kurt said you thought I was dead.” She says. I nod and glance up at Mulder who meets my eyes briefly in the rearview. “I was lying with you when you died. I don’t… I don’t understand how this is possible. I was there when it happened. Though at your funeral we did discover that your body was missing... It was awful.” I feel the pain from that day all over again and it’s her turn to squeeze my hand. “You don’t remember anything from before your fifth birthday?” I ask after a beat. “I remember little things. Snap shots of my life but nothing that really makes sense of things. Recently things have become a little clearer.” She looks down at our hands, “Kurt told me all about how you both found me. Told me I was living with adoptive parents until they were killed.” She looks up at my face with wet eyes, “He said you were trying to adopt me.” I nod, “I didn’t know you existed until then, Emily I’m so sorry.” She gives me a small awkward smile, “They renamed me. April Meeks.” I take in this information and roll the name over in my head. It’s almost more appropriate that she isn’t going by her old name. April seems appropriate too. It’s a month full of hope and fear at the same time. April means spring is coming. Looking at my own April I pray that our own spring is coming. I put a hand to her cheek, “April.” She covers my hand with her own.

#the invisible cord #txf fanfic #x files fanfic #the x files #emily sim

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