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comic-book-jawns · 3 years

Text

A Proper Sleepover

“Hiya!”

Jamie’s head popped up a second later in the middle of the elaborate blanket fort that had taken over their studio apartment since she’d last seen it, heading out the door for her birthday dinner, after which Jamie had asked if she could walk around town for a bit — which hadn’t been asking a lot, considering it was a beautiful May evening in Vermont.

To say that Dani had always wanted to go to a sleepover was, in a sense, misleading. Growing up she’d had sleepovers at Eddie’s once a week if not more. But given the very fact of how often she was there, sleepover wasn’t quite the right word for it.

The O’Mara’s was like her second home — or maybe it was her own home that was the second home, if she were to judge a home by what a home was supposed to be like. Eventually, the O’Mara’s had grown stifling, of course, but it had never been cold.

In any case, it had not been the site of her first real sleepover, her only real sleepover. That had been at Ashley G’s house in seventh grade. Ashley wasn’t her friend. She didn’t have many friends aside from Eddie. But Ashley was rich, so she’d invited all the girls in their grade to sleep over in her gigantic basement.

Dani hadn’t slept at all, though. She’d been so excited to be included for once that it hadn’t occurred to her until she’d arrived that they would all be sleeping in one room, which meant if she had a nightmare, as she often did, everyone would know.

Fortunately, she’d been spared that embarrassment because she’d quickly become far too anxious to even try to sleep. There’d been the teasing about when she and Eddie were going to get married, if he was a good kisser. And, sure, it was uncomfortable, but she’d been expecting it.

What she had not expected was the near paralysis brought on by sitting in a tight circle with her pajama-clad classmates. Every time she would manage to find a perfect, if scoliosis-inducing, position in which to sit — one in which she was not touching anyone. Everyone would move around, and she’d have to start all over again.

At the time, she’d written it off as her not being used to touch. Her mother was many things but a hugger was not one of them. Eddie tried, but it always seemed to make him uncomfortable, especially as they’d gotten older. Eddie’s mom was the only person who’d ever hugged her with any real frequency. But even by then, it had begun to feel a tad smothering, if welcome nonetheless.

So, at the time, that’s what Dani had attributed her discomfort at the sleepover to. And, at the the time, she’d known it was a lie. So, despite the invites that she’d later received from girlfriends of Eddie’s friends when Eddie had suddenly become popular in high school, Dani had never gone to a sleepover again.

But the desire had never gone away. It had always felt like yet another experience she’d missed out on. So, she’d made an off-hand comment to Flora during their “sleepover” at Bly — which, incidentally, had been her and Jamie’s first “sleepover,” technically speaking. Jamie remained unaware of Dani’s early morning “check-in,” but evidently she’d done some recon of her own that night.

“So... do ya... ” Jamie scratched the back of her neck. “Never actually done this before, but - ”

“Jamie, it’s perfect!”

Dani was already struggling to see her through blurry eyes.

“Yeah?”

She could still make out Jamie’s cheeks getting redder, as her smile got more lopsided. Dani closed the door, which she’d only been able to open halfway on account of the outer rim of blankets and dropped the bag she’d been holding, containing a new novel for Jamie she’d just bought from the local bookstore.

Then, she bent double to enter the fort. The blankets gradually ascended as she got closer to the middle, not unlike a circus tent. But Dani stayed bent over like a linebacker and ran straight for Jamie. Wrapping one arm around her lower back and the other around her thighs, Dani lifted her and twirled around, smiling proudly as Jamie immediately giggled.

She managed to make it around about 1.5 times before falling over onto a pile of cushions, at which point she too burst out laughing. As they recovered, Jamie cleared her throat.

“Right, down to it, then.” She sat up and reached over to her left. “Ya need to strip.”

She turned back to find Dani smiling coyly.

“So you can put on these!” She held out her Blondie T-shirt, which she’d first given to Dani to borrow on her birthday, and pajama bottoms. “Honestly, Poppins!”

Dani blushed but grinned shamelessly as she took the clothes.

She’d been treated to breakfast in bed — “I apologize in advance,” Jamie had quipped as she’d handed her the plate. Dani had insisted it was delicious, and Jamie had explained that they had a dinner reservation, after which Dani would get her present, so until then, the day was reserved for whatever Dani wanted to do.

Coincidentally, they had not set foot outside their apartment until well into the afternoon.

*****

“You’re the one the one that I want!”

Dani woke up reclined against the cushions, her view of the TV partially obstructed by Jamie who was leaning forward, hugging Dani’s knees on either side of her. As she watched, Jamie stretched her right arm out to grab a handful of popcorn, threw it her mouth and wrapped her arm around Dani’s knee once more, never taking her eyes off the screen.

Jamie had rented three movies from Blockbuster. They’d started with My Side of the Mountain, a childhood favorite of Dani’s that Jamie had found herself loving as well.

Next was Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, a relatively new movie they’d heard good things about. Jamie had said as the credits rolled that “playin’ truant” was for “tossas” and if Ferris were really cool he would’ve dropped out like she had, and Dani had whacked her with a pillow, instigating a pillow fight that had served as a quality intermission.

Grease, which Jamie claimed she’d picked purely for Dani’s benefit to check romcom off the sleepover bucket list, had been the closer. Dani had nodded off sometime after Danny and Sandy’s reunion at school and smiled now as she watched Jamie watch them celebrate their decision to change everything about themselves in spandex.

She wrapped her arms around Jamie’s stomach and pulled herself up, resting her chin on Jamie’s shoulder.

“Hey, you,” Jamie said softly.

Her eyes remained on the screen as the song wrapped.

“You could’ve turned something else on.”

“Well, I didn’t know when you’d wake up, did I?”

“Mmhmm.”

Dani’s smile was more of a smirk now.

“Tryna say something, Poppins?”

Dani sighed.

“Oh, just that I’m... hopelessly devoted to you.”

Dani giggled as Jamie scoffed.

“Ya better not be.”

“No?”

“Well, not... ” Jamie cleared her throat. “Not hopelessly, anyway.”

Dani smiled and leaned in to kiss Jamie’s reddening cheek.

“Deal.”

Even from this angle, she could see Jamie smile shyly. Dani knew she was almost ready. She’d half-wondered if that would be her present — Jamie saying it. But she wasn’t disappointed in the slightest. All she’d really wanted for her birthday was to be with Jamie. After all, it hadn’t exactly been a sure thing.

She’d secretly been kicking herself since the night of Jamie’s birthday, several months ago at this point, when she’d joked that she was sure Jamie would be able to “think of something” for hers. She hadn’t offended Jamie — Jamie was the one who’d joked about it in the first place — but she had broken her cardinal rule. She’d talked about the future.

Of course, Jamie had already figured out when her birthday was, so there was nothing Dani could’ve done differently, really. But still, she’d been haunted by the thought that that conversation would be all Jamie would have, that it would haunt her too if they never got the chance to celebrate it.

So she’d never brought it up again. But, at last, the day had come, and it had been better than she ever could’ve imagined.

“Oi, what’s this?!” Jamie gestured at the TV. “S’not even real words!”

Dani laughed, facing forward again. “We Go Together” had started up.

“So this is where you draw the line?”

“Well, the other songs - ”

“Yes?”

Dani’s smirk was back. Jamie closed her mouth and cleared her throat, before chuckling.

“We gotta get you to a show.”

“Huh?”

“A musical.”

Jamie laughed again.

“You and I both know that you’ll love it.”

Jamie’s shy smile was back. Dani’s tone had not left room for rebuttal. Jamie finally turned her head to look at her.

“Thank you.”

Dani smiled widely and leaned in for a kiss. She’d broken her rule again. But she supposed she’d just made another one. She wouldn’t give up on hope.

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coeurdastronaute · 3 years

Text

The Story, Ch. 4

Previously on The Story

The sun finally disappeared for the first time in weeks. Defiantly it tried to shine through the thin layer of clouds that blew in from the northeast, burning them off, or at least doing its best. The air had a stiff breeze to it, pushing around the oppressive humidity, as if it could help, when really it just smeared it into the wound.

Dani stood in the kitchen and sipped a glass of water in the quiet that seemed to come after lunch had dispersed. Off to their own devices, the children could be heard occasionally, playing or arguing or running with heavy feet down the halls.

For just a moment, Dani allowed herself one instant to look out at the clouds and wonder if this was some kind of religion, the unrelenting hope and belief in the inevitable, the near satisfaction of it actually happening, the eager waiting, the small sample of euphoria, the fulfilment of a promise. There was a mild intoxication in the lust of it, the build up.

Longingly, Dani leaned against the lip of the sink and followed the heaviness of the clouds as they moved along, teasing and taunting, plump with rain for another city or ocean or country.

From across the way, she watched the gardener emerge from behind the old, ivy-laced wall, and for some reason she sunk a little deeper into her relaxed pose. She took a larger gulp from her glass.

The well-worn overalls hung on one strap, the leg on one side rolled up a little bit, while the shirt beneath had been cut up to accommodate the season, the holes for the arm dipping low enough to expose ribs, and high enough to show that line of deltoid. All too suddenly, Jamie dropped her supplies she’d been carrying and began digging through them.

It did nothing to wake Dani from the dream she’d been having, nor did it do anything to untangle itself from the sudden fervor the au pair suddenly had for rain. Instead, the fanaticism for the passing clouds was applied to the streak of sweat down Jamie’s arm, cutting through the dirt there and dripping off at a pointed elbow.

She wasn’t tall, she wasn’t large or imposing, but Jamie had a sense of space and she took it up with her confidence. Dani liked to watch her move because she moved with purpose. The cut in her arm, in her bicep, it existed for a reason. The litheness, the wallowness of her bones and curves, they were a result of bending and reaching and stretching, of molding and making and living.

Somewhat aware of the unabashed lurking, Dani looked around the kitchen, straining for noises or footsteps or anyone, really, to catch her in the act. That was how she knew it wasn’t right, though she wasn’t sure how.

There was a moment that Dani leaned forward, a little closer to the window, clutched her glass a little tighter in her hands. She watched as Jamie began reaching up toward the top of the wall, tying back some of the vines.

Similar to the buzzing, vibrating, humming feeling she remembered from the pond, that twisting and warmth deep in her stomach, the lightness and tightness, all at once in her chest, Dani felt it all again gradually descend upon her. She did everything to avoid looking at Jamie at the lake, and she thought she had, but still, she remembered the shape of her belly button and the notch of her spine, the dip in her shoulders and the mold of her knees.

Now, too, Dani found herself remembering it all in flashes that made it difficult to breathe, in a way that made her thirst for rain.

A crash from upstairs pulled the au pair from her indoctrination quickly. She nearly jumped out of her skin at the noise before going off in search of whatever maybe the children could have caused this time.

XXXXXXXXXX

With an upward glance, the gardener wiped the sweat on her chest and her forehead as the afternoon waned toward evening despite the consistent heat that sizzled. All was quiet around, the children in the house or on the other side of the grounds, the bugs sick of humming and buzzing for the day, taking off early to find some rest.

Prepared to wrap up for the day, Jamie surveyed the work of the day, the trellis repair and the trimming back of overzealous summer buds. It was hard but honest work and she enjoyed that moment of accomplishment.

Once more, she looked around to assure herself that not tiny eyes would catch her in the act, or worse yet, that Hannah wouldn’t catch her again, and she dug a cigarette out of the pack in her pocket. With a little less motivation that her previous day, Jamie gathered her tools and wondered how to stick around without sticking around, or rather, how to say good night to the au pair.

For the past few days, Jamie had been nearly floating on the memories of the pond swim that kept them up and talking until nearly sunrise. She dissected every moment of her time with Dani, hoping to figure something out, but never could come to any concrete answers. The au pair was far too elusive and perhaps unwilling to give enough to jump to any conclusions. But all the same, the gardener enjoyed spending time with her, and she couldn’t remember the last time she simply enjoyed existing. It was too hard to talk to most people; she tripped over her word and thoughts and ended up quietly listening and not listening.

Now, she knew what Dani’s favorite smell was.

But there was really no reason for anything else for her inside the house other than to say her goodnight and be on her way. Still, she mulled and smoked, circling her tools before looking back towards the front door.

Like a streak, the newly familiar blonde appeared, zipping through the door, and around the corner, disappeared in an instant, too fast on her own feet for any good. But there was more power and speed to this movement than before, and Jamie rubbed out her cigarette before grabbing her tools and deciding on taking the long way back around.

The shape of the au pair appeared on the other side of a planter, half hunkered, back expanding quickly as she tried to find a way to breathe. Jamie slowed her walk so as not to fully interrupt something like that. It felt like waking a sleep walker, and she’d always been inclined to believe in the magic of it. Dani’s shoulders shook slightly as she tried to straighten her spine. She curled up slightly before forcing herself back up again. As harrowing as it was, Jamie cleared her throat and jostled the bucket in her hand, making the au pair jump slightly at the intrusion. It was a clumsy way to wake someone, but she didn’t know of another. The gasping breaths seized immediately, but the face didn’t turn to look at her.

The gravel crunched beneath the bucket as she placed it and her tools on the ground, a peace offering, an armistice line.

“So, uh,” the gardener squinted toward the sun and shoved her hands in her back pocket. “What did the little monsters do?”

“No, it’s… um--”

“I know it’s frowned upon, to wallop a child, but I’m not one to rely on my reputation. A bit more tarnish couldn’t hurt it.”

Dani didn’t move, just kept looking straight away, unwilling to do anything but hold her breath. Defeated, Jamie kicked at the gravel slightly, swinging her leg and puffing out her cheeks as she searched for something in the deepest parts of her brain to earn a sound or look from the au pair.

“Plants are much easier. I find it’s not as taboo to murder a gaggle of heliotropes for not behaving. My discipline is harsh, I bet. But if you need some child rearing advice, I’m around.”

As much as she hadn’t meant to, Dani laughed, a relieved, genuine chuckle at the absurdity of the gardener, and Jamie inhaled it too quickly.

“There we are,” she smiled to herself, victorious as all. “It’s not so bad. You’re hardly the first. I’ve cried… goodness, daily. Hourly, even, since working here. Helps to keep the evergreens so effervescent. If you’ve ever marvelled at my lustrous plentitude, I promise it’s from my own deep, deep well of inconsolable tears.”

The au pair finally turned, much of her body still hidden behind the planter, but her eyes, the red-rimmed and puffy eyes glittered in the haze of the summer. Jamie swallowed slightly at the site and offered a smaller smile. Dani smiled at her, somewhere between relieved and burdened, unable to decide which was worse.

“You’re doing great,” Jamie offered quickly, her feet betraying her and taking a step forward, naturally drawn to fix the problem. “You’re doing great.”

“Thank you,” Dani nodded before looking away to wipe her eyes.

“Alright,” she took a deep breath before picking up her tools. “Chin up, Poppins.”

The best she had, the girl effectively returned to something short of sad, Jamie decided it was time for the quickest escape imaginable, and though she controlled her steps, she refused to turn around.

XXXXXXXXX

The garden on the eastern side of the house was a continual work in progress. The gardener spent a portion of nearly every part of her day working on the roses and bushes, tenderly turning the area into a perfect oasis of blooming buds. It was her favorite part of the entire manor and grounds, it was her oasis. The tall brick wall was flanked by even taller pines, casting heavy branches like a ceiling over the edges.

To say that there was an absolute explosion when the garden was massacred, would have been an outright lie. It was apocalyptic. The nanny wasn’t sure she’d ever seen someone who was simultaneously full of loss and wrath, but Jamie stood there, shaking, vibrating with a kind of rage that surpassed any kind of mortal feelings. At first, Dani was certain it was going to be quiet, that Jamie was swallowing it completely. But it wasn’t quiet. She marched across the garden, fist full of decapitated roses, petals in her wake, and began yelling.

It took ten minutes before she tired herself out and Dani was able to calm her down. It took a few more hours for her to round up the culprits.

“How are they doing?” Dani called as she helped direct the clean up efforts across the garden.

“Looks alright to me,” Jamie nodded. “Don’t forget the mulch.”

“Got it,” she smiled, helping Flora pick a few things.

Even though she wanted to be mad, Jamie struggled with the fact that Dani looked very cute with a scuff of dirt across her forehead. She didn’t enjoy that her anger was so quickly quelled by a pretty girl. That didn’t seem fair. She should be able to hold onto all of that rage for a little while longer, in her own opinion, not lose it because a girl smiled at her.

“She’s really putting them through their paces,” Hannah observed over the rim of her glass. “They should be playing.”

“Have to learn about consequences,” Jamie shrugged. “A little hard labor is good for a growing kid.”

“She’s tough on them. But maybe you’re right. They can be a little bit of a handful from time to time.”

“You should know better than anyone. You clean up after them all day. Owen cooks for them. I make sure they don’t get lost in the woods. They need a little bit of structure.”

“They’re working hard. I just want them to play,” Hannah sighed and swirled her drink around against the heat.

Jamie put her foot up on the edge of the chair and dug in her shirt pocket to pull out the pack of cigarettes. She let her eyes slowly drift back to the nanny who stood, hands on her hips as she looked down at the pile of debris the kids accumulated. She gave some orders, directing them around the yard.

“What did I miss?” Owen asked as he took a seat between the two women. “How are the delinquents doing?”

“They’re doing well,” Hannah smiled.

“Hannah wants them to frolick and return to the glens, unfettered by their impetuous choices, free to roam the world causing chaos.”

Owen gave the housekeeper a look who just shrugged, not bothering to admit that it was almost the truth.

“I don’t think that’s much of an option with the warden overseeing their parole.”

Jamie chuckled and drifted back to the au pair. She didn’t catch Dani’s eyes, nor did she even earn a passing thought. But they were friends, she would venture. They were people who occasionally chatted in the evening, and they were people who had coffee every morning together in the green house, even if it tasted terrible. She drank it all anyway dutifully if it meant ten uninterrupted minutes with the au pair, though she’d never admit it.

“What’s that?” she murmured, snuffing out the cigarette butt and looking over as Owen topped off her drink, missing half of their conversation already.

“What do you think of the American?”

“She’s wonderful with the kids. I think she’s doing a splendid job.”

“Bit private isn’t she?”

“You must have talked with her a bit more,” Hannah pressed. “I’ve seen you two skulking about, lingering in hallways, giggling.”

“You make us sound like school girls, Hannah. Shame on you gossiping and such.”

“Curious about the other person who lives in the same building is all. What do you think of her?”

Jamie looked once more, this time meeting Dani’s quick glance and gulping slightly. They held the look for longer than expected, and Jamie remembered the feeling of cold water and Dani’s smile as she held her nose and jumped into the pond. She remembered the smell of their skin in the back of her truck as they dried off in stiff old blankets and stared at the stars, the grass and the water leaving the earth behind on their joints.

“A touch too pretty to be a nanny, I reckon.”

“Owen?”

“Oh, I um, I don’t know that I’ve thought of her, erhm, that way,” he cleared his throat and eagerly drank from his glass as Jamie turned it around to him.

“You’ve seemed to have made your mind up about her,” Hannah decided, reading Jamie’s face and the little bit of pink in her cheeks. “And you never do that.”

“Jury’s still out. I give her another month before she’s running for the hills from those little brats and this bloody place.”

“I don’t know. I think she’s taken to it.”

“Can’t count on someone like her to stick.”

“Why’s that?” the housekeeper prodded, noticing another quick glance between the gardener and the au pair.

“She’s too good,” Jamie explained, neither sad, neither conflicted, neither happy at the news, but merely presenting a fact. “Too alive to wallow away at Bly Manor.”

“It’s not like that’s what we’re doing,” Owen scoffed. “We’re young and hot.”

“Speak for yourself, darling.”

Jamie didn’t argue, but looked down at the slow drip of condensation on her glass and felt the sinking deja vu feeling that haunted her from time to time. They were all running from something, hiding behind the walls of the manor, only they didn’t see it that way. Jamie wasn’t running anymore, but she’d been defeated and relegated to such, she thought. Dani wasn’t there yet.

“She is full of life,” Hannah nodded, almost quietly. “It’s oddly contagious, if that’s the right word for it.”

“Something like that,” Jamie agreed, wiping away the moisture on her cup on the edge of her pants before taking another sip.

“Is your brother still coming next week? You should invite Dani with us to the show,” Owen decided for her.

“No way she’d want to go to some backwoods hoot and holler that my mangy brother is doing,” Jamie scoffed this time, shaking her head at the notion.

“I think it’s high time she saw some Bly culture up close and personal.”

“She does need to get out, love. You know how tiring it is to live here non-stop,” Hannah agreed. “Invite her. Take the pretty girl dancing.”

“I didn’t mean pretty like-- I was just observing--” the gardener stopped trying to find the word because it wasn’t coming and Hannah had given her the look that said it was hopeless. “I’m sure she doesn’t want to come.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Dani! Dani!” Owen began to call out, waving his hand until Jamie made him stop, prepared to threaten him within an inch of his own life.

“I’ll ask her tomorrow,” Jamie promised, hissing the words. “I’ve got to go,” she stood up abruptly. “And see about the… there was that squeaky hinge in the pantry.”

Before Dani could make it over, the gardener was off, retreating and not looking back over her shoulder once at the scene. Hannah just smiled at Owen and wiggled her eyebrows.

“I told you. That’s five quid.”

“She never said she liked her,” he taunted back.

“You must not be fluent in Jamie, but if you were, you’d know that ‘squeaky hinges’ was code for ‘help, the pretty blonde American is coming over and I don’t know how to be a human and speak with her because she’s so pretty’,” Hannah explained.

“I’ll pay up if she invites her,” he retorted. “And not a moment sooner. I have my doubts about this flirting you allegedly have seen.”

“You’re blind, love.”

“Just blinded by you.”

“Oh, shush,” the housekeeper fluttered away the comment with a wave of her hand though she smiled to herself. “Jamie is smitten, and you know I’m right.”

“But is Dani?”

“The five quid question, isn’t it?”

“Mmmm,” they both hummed together as they watched the gardener disappear completely into the house.

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kimberly-spirits13 · 4 years

Text

Lonely Gun

Pairing: Jamie Reyes x reader

Synopsis: You love going on bike rides during free times around the neighborhood, however this time, your crush joins you.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1262

You were in your bedroom getting changed at the cave into some clothes to go biking. It was early evening and the perfect weather for a ride. You put on some sports leggings with pockets for your phone and pocket knife, a short -sleeved gym shirt, and your running shoes. Your hair was half up and half down and had an almost crimped look from leaving in braids over-night.

“You almost ready Y/N?” Someone asked knocking on your bedroom door.

“Yeah, one second!” You replied almost tripping from getting your shoes on before opening your bedroom door to reveal Jamie who was waiting outside for you to finish changing.

“I have this route that no one takes. It has a few people every now and then, but it’s rarely busy if you’d like to go on that one. Otherwise there’s the city bike routes or bikes on the beach.” You informed him walking to the exit of the cave.

“Let’s venture off the norm.” He laughed some making you smile.

“Jamie Reyes, now is the optimal time to confess your feelings.” The scarab popped in making Jamie roll his eyes.

He ignored it for a second before telling it to shut up when you were out of earshot getting the bikes. You rolled yours out followed by Jamie as the doors of the cave opened.

“Just remember, this is a hillier route, if you can’t keep up, I can slow down.” You smirked looking at him.

“The Y/N is challenging you, I recommend taking them out now so they pose no threat.” The scarab hissed.

“The scarab doesn’t like that Y/N/N.” Jamie said shooting a look at the Scarab.

“Oops, sorry if I offended it.” You giggled peddling off.

You and Jamie biked off into a mostly silent neighborhood in the suburbs near the cave. It was a lovely place, often housing families and in the back, an assisted living section atop the large hill. There were flower bushes in almost every yard and when you got to the top of the hill, there was a group of kids playing in the sprinklers and on a massive waterslide that was stretching into multiple yards.

Jamie smiled at you waving at one of the kids that called out your name smiling and jumping around.

“Who was that?” He asked.

“One of the kids that I babysit, her name is Lilly.” You smiled turning into the back of the neighborhood and down a smaller hill.

You guys stopped at stop signs and then started back again, taking a sharp left turn down another winding road all down a massive hill. You didn’t notice him looking at you, admiring how your hair whipped in the wind and how you smiled every time you picked up the speed. You guys stopped once more at the stop sign and then went down an empty road.

“This might look like there’s nothing here, but trust me, the best part of the route is down this road.” You said shooting him a small glance before he nodded an okay at you.

You would normally be a lot more cautious going down an empty street like this. There were no houses and typically, no cars down this street either. If anything happened, you’d be able to handle yourself with training from various heroes, you just didn’t want to. Jamie gave you a strange look when you turned off onto another, much smaller road that could not be seen.

After heading down further, you guys passed a stream on an older looking bridge and then came to a meadow at the edge of a lake. You hopped off your bike and set it down at the edge of the road. No one came down back here, so you knew that it would be fine. Jamie did the same thing too and followed you to a large oak tree where you climbed to one of the lower larger branches and sat.

“Want any help up Reyes?” You asked smirking some.

“Not at all L/N.” He replied climbing to sit next to you, “This place is really beautiful.”

“I know right. I come here almost every day when I just need some down time. I like being alone for a little bit. Even if it’s just outside, riding my bike around for a little bit. Helps me clear my mind and all.” You chuckled looking down at the lake below.

“So, this is where you almost always run off to after missions?” Jamie asked sitting back some on the tree.

“Almost always.” You answered sighing, “Sometimes I can stay here for hours. And then I remember I have to be at the cave but still.”

He smiled some at your comment before everything went back to being silent.

“Jamie Reyes, this is the perfect time to confess your feelings.” The Scarab butted in.

Jamie tried to ignore it but the Scarab persisted more and more.

“Want to walk around some?” You finally asked.

“Uh sure.”

You jumped down from the tree making a perfect landing and started to walk away some, quickly followed by Jamie.

“You know, I never really would have expected this kind of place from you.” He stated as you walked around the edge of the lake.

“And whatever would that mean Reyes?” You questioned arching a brow.

“O-oh nothing bad!” He said blushing some, “I’m just saying I wasn’t expecting a meadow, oak tree, and really pretty lake like this. Fairy tale kind of place.”

“Yeah, well I do like to surprise.” You laughed, “It’s always just been something I always did. I’ve been kind of a lonely gun my entire life and just did whatever I thought was the most interesting.”

“So, you’ve never considered any relationships?” He asked rubbing the back of his neck after realizing how that might have come across.

“I mean I’ve thought about it before, I just haven’t met anyone who can pull the trigger.” You blushed some, “Well, I think I did. Maybe.”

“O-oh.” He sighed some looking and sounding disappointed.

“Jamie are you alright?” You asked in a concerned tone.

“Y-yeah I’m fine.” He said.

“Really? Because I’ve met a lot of people in my life and you fit the “I have something I’m not talking about” look on your face. A classic one really.”

“I’m fine it’s just. W-well I was hoping you weren’t dating anyone or anything.”

“Well, I’m not dating anyone right now so spill.” You realized what was happening.

“Y/N, I-I really like you but if you’re already interested in someone, I’m sure that they’re great and you deserve the best of anything. If you regret taking me here, I get it.” He said turning all sorts of shades red now.

“Jamie.” You said giggled some, your tone changing into an understanding one, “I was talking about you stupid.”

“W-wait really?” He asked in surprise.

“Duh, why else would I have taken you out here?”

“I mean that makes sense I just didn’t think...” He suddenly pulled you into a kiss making you freeze before you returned the action.

“Well, I guess this means we’re a thing now?” You asked breathlessly after you two pulled away.

“I guess. If that’s what you want?” He answered.

“Of -course it is.” “Now, I hate to ruin this moment, however there’s a massive hill and the rest of the neighborhood to cover.” You said smirking, “You know, if you’re up for it.”

“Wow, way to make a guy feel wanted.” He laughed heading back with you, “I’m up for it.”

I hope you guys are having a great day and weekend. I go on bike rides a LOT as you guys might have deduced by now and I got this idea over the past few weeks. I listen to a ton of music on these rides and always imagine a story in the background of it. Idk it’s just how my brain works lol. Anyways, I hope you guys are all staying safe and healthy and continue to have a great week!

#dc comics #dc x reader #dc characters #young justice x reader #young justice #jamie reyes #jamie reyes x reader #Jamie reyes x y/n #jamie reyes imagine #blue beetle #blue beetle x reader #blue beetle imagine

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joshslater · 4 years

Text

Grimsby pt. 6

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

I think I surprised myself more than anyone else that I was early for work. Peter put me to work right away with ice and boxes. Not much different than yesterday, and quickly became a mindless routine. If I had started off the day as a zombie, I soon wished I was one. Or on drugs, still. It would be helpful to block all the muscle ache if nothing else. There was quite a lot of fish coming in compared with yesterday. Since it was a Friday restaurants stocked up for the weekend, and the ordinary shoppers came by for their Friday evening projects. But as I was in so early I kept up with work, and by lunch Jamie sent me home early with full pay.

“Real good work today. Rest up for Monday. You look like shit.”

I grabbed a mis-shapen fried cod on my way out and ate by the bus stop. I decided to do as suggested and get back home as fast as possible and take a nap. Then perhaps I could deal with cleaning out the kitchen, or even laundry if I woke up in time. I had just finished the fish when the bus arrived, and this time I actually paid the proper £1.80. Again I opted for a seat in the back, by the window, though there wasn’t many people on the bus.

Two stops later a teenager, probably younger than he tried to look, swaggered on and went straight to sit next to me. All blue and grey adidas joggers and sweatshirt, Nike shoes and a buzzed head. He sat down with one foot on the seat, legs wide. He effectively blocked me in my seat, but he didn’t do it in a threatening way. It was like someone getting comfortable next to someone they knew.

“Oi. Got fag?”

My instinct was to not give any of my cigarettes to him, but then were they really mine? I was still working my way through the 200 pack Declan bought me. I suppose once it was gone I would have to buy a new one, but it didn’t feel like it was my money. As long as I’m pretending for Butcher Jones I don’t have to be too careful with money.

“Hey. Sure.”

I got one of the last ones out of the box and handed it to him. He lit it and started to smoke, in the bus.

“Thanks mate”

Almost instantly I was jealous of him. I so craved a smoke. Sure, it was on the bus, but I wasn’t the one who had lit it. I held out my hand towards him. He looked up and handed me the lit cigarette. I made a few deep drags and handed it back to him. Some stops later he got off the bus with a “cheers”. It felt like I had passed a test of some sort. That I was convincingly playing my part. It felt both reassuring and unsettling at the same time. I couldn’t see my reflection in the window, but I could kind of imagine what I looked like now. I touched my head, and it still felt alien to me, with the smooth skin on the sides and the island of stubble up top. I almost missed my stop, lost in thought. I was so tired, and walked on autopilot from the bus stop to my bed. I did greet someone from yesterday’s party, but instantly forgot who. I kicked off my shoes and lied down on the bed.

“I said yous ready to go?”

My wheels were spinning wildly with poor traction in my sleep drunk state. I didn’t understand what was happening. I wasn’t drunk or high, was I? No, I hadn’t had any all day? Big Jace was only inches from my face, one hand on each of my shoulders. Damn, how sore my entire body was.

“G...*cough* go where?” “The club. Imma beat you in boxing like FIFA.”

He reached out and grabbed me in that way where the thumbs interlock and your fingers grab the outside of the hand. Instinctively I grabbed his hand as well, and he pulled me out of bed. “There’s plenty of napping once we get the gloves on.” I was still too disoriented from having been waken up mid REM sleep to realize what he meant. As I stumbled down the stairs after Jace, I managed to grab a new pack, get a cigarette in and light it before we were out the door. Why did I agree to do this again? Right. I was high. Where was Declan?

Jace turned the other way down the street, not saying a word as usual, with me following him. He had a black Nike duffle bag over his shoulder. Despite his height it was hanging below his hip, swinging more than I would have had patience for. It was mesmerizing to look at, as I worked on my Richmond Blue King and tried to not wake up properly. By the time we reached the end of the street I felt like I was hypnotized, and was jolted back to sentience as he walked straight through a bush and across the lawn of however lived there. I followed him. Right, I remembered. Declan had left. I took a few faster steps to walk up beside Jace, and not behind him.

He led me over some public and private properties in the confident manner of someone who had long ago worked out the best shortcut to something they attended often. He wasn’t rushing, though, and despite my overall soreness and fatigue it felt refreshing. About 15 minutes later we entered the Grimbsy Adrenaline Club building, a large free standing brick building designed by someone without any aesthetic sense at all. I wouldn’t be able to tell anyone how we got there if I wanted. As soon as Jace opened the front door and I saw the locker room signs I realized I had nothing with me to change into. A home full of athletic clothes, in a sense, and nothing with me. Though I guess the adidas outfit I had on was as good as anything, and it was about time to throw that in the theoretical laundry basket.

Jace tossed the bag on a bench as soon as we entered the locker room. It landed with a loud thud that startled the only other guy in the room. Jace smiled a wry smile, like scaring the guy was the best thing that could have happened. Like the exterior, the room was well worn with furniture crafted in place. It smelled of sweat and mildew. Jace sauntered to the bag, unzipped it and pulled out a pair of old boxing gloves. They looked just as I imagined boxing gloves should look like, rounded, as inflated balloons, orange-red leather with yellow-white trim and long, white laces. They were really worn, and a bit frayed in the lining. The laces looked brand new, and just about long enough to lace them up. Someone had probably replaced the original string with laces from a pair of sneakers. He held one up, opening towards me.

“Hand.”

I put my hand in the glove, and he pushed it in place. He quickly tightened the lace, told me to push, and tied some sort of knot. He then grabbed a roll of duct tape from the bag and put a wide strip over the knot, and around the glove, almost two turns.

“Shit gloves innit. Should hold.”

We did the same with the other glove. He then picked a black piece of rubbery plastic, a bulky mouth guard, out of the bag and inserted it in his mouth. Finally he picked up a pair of much more modern gloves from the bag, red and black in some synthetic leather, put them on and velcroed them tight. He did two rapid fistbumps, making a bright thuds.

“Come. I’ll show you the basics.”

I could barely make out the words for the mouthguard. I followed Jace through the building. It was almost deserted, with a few people in the machine room doing their work out. I realized I had no idea what the time was, but early afternoon on a Friday was obviously not peak hour. We ended up in a large room with different punching bags along one wall. He stopped in a cleared area.

“Now hit me.”

I punched him softly in the chest.

“OK, that one’s free. Hit my head.”

I made an attempt and he easily danced away. He spurred me on to continue and to make better and faster attacks. He clearly enjoyed his superiority, dodging everything with ease. He was starting to mock punch me, missing on purpose. “Faster, or I’ll hit you for real” I was tired and sore, and I had no idea what I was doing. We were going faster and a faster, my heart was racing and I was sweating, but my arms moved sloppier and sloppier. Somehow I was getting angry that I didn’t hit him, and got more and more determined to actually hit something other than his blocking gloves.

Suddenly he stepped back, giving me a big, black rubber smile. How long had we been at it? Five minutes? Fifteen? He opened a glove, took it off, removed the mouth guard and held it out in front of him, offering it to me. “Bite this. I’ll show you the punches.” Without thinking I stepped forward, leaned down to where he held the mouth guard and bit into it. Exactly when I closed my mouth it hit my how off the cliff I was. I was exhausted on every level, sure, but I was just blindly doing whatever this younger, rude, drug dealing chav told me to do. How had he conditioned me so quickly? At the beginning of the week I wouldn’t even touch something dripping in someone else’s saliva. Now I put it in my mouth before I even realized anything wrong with that. I was desensitized.

“This is a jab.” Jace said with no emotion and punched me straight in the face. I was totally unprepared and fell back on the padded floor. I managed to break the fall a little with my gloved hands, and ended up on my ass. My nose hurt. I tried to feel it, and check if it was bleeding, and manged to punch myself in the face, if ever so softly. “Wa a uh!” was my rendering of “what the fuck”, but the mouth guard was clearly not fitted for me. If anything Jace was enjoying this more than sidestepping my blows, and spent seconds just observing me on the floor before he stepped in and lifted me with one glove in each armpit.

I felt light headed and steadied myself on Jace before regaining balance. “Hits can come from front, sides and below” he explained. “Jab is from the front.” I didn’t feel it mattered much what it was called when you beat someone up. “This is a hook” he said and hit my head from the side. This time I was more prepared and managed to lean away. It still connected, but wasn’t as bad. I avoided his other hook even better. The uppercut however connected with my chin properly and I lost consciousness for a few seconds and woke up looking up at Jace.

“You need to block”

He then appeared to hold back, and went through all the punches, telling me how I could attempt to block them. I got punched plenty more, but nothing that knocked me out. He then placed me in front of one of the punching bags and told me to repeat a motion, while he went on to do his exercises. Occasionally he would change my exercise or adjust me technique. All I could do was to grunt “ae!” with the mouth guard in.

“Fifteen more”

I was really emptying whatever energy reserves I had left, and I knew I was doing really shitty work, but I did as Jace told me and hit the punching bag with fifteen more left hooks. He had taken off his gloves, and was just watching me. As I did the last punch, he tapped my shoulder with one of his gloves.

“Solid work, mate. I’m chuffed.”

He walked towards the locker room. I trailed him, exhausted. My body must have glistened in sweat, had it not been for the adidas set, which clung to the body. I was breathing heavily through the nose. Well ahead of me I saw him toss his gloves into the bag, then turned and waited for me.

“Footwork next time. Tuesday.”

He wasn’t asking. He then ripped the tape off my gloves, and undid the knots. As soon as I got a hand free I removed the mouth guard. Jace looked at it as if surprised I still had it. “Toss in the bag”. I sat down on the bench to catch my breath.

Jace stood still and just looked at me for a moment, then he reach down inside his polo shirt neck, undid a brass looking chain necklace. He stepped forward and clutched it around my neck. I looked at him in surprise.

“There. You’re family.”

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dopescotlandwarrior · 4 years

Text

Bluegrass-Chapter Five

A special thanks to @statell for all your help and never saying no

Previous chapters at AO3

Chapter Five

The next two visits to Highland Brothers were a little easier. The colt knew the only game Claire liked was racing so he complied happily, always trotting around her triumphantly. Claire made it clear she did not like to lose because she never got the sugar cube. You only win because you have four legs and I have only two. To be fair, I will start running over there. She had an image of running from a position up-track and told him she would win because he couldn’t catch up to her. He threw his head in the air.

Claire looked at Jamie’s hiding place and called to Nick for some help. He came running, ready to do her bidding.

Please hold him here until I get in position. When you see me run, let him go. She touched the colt’s cheek and taunted him, then she ran to her starting place. Nick could hardly hold the colt because he was ready to go. Claire started to run thinking over and over how much she wanted to win. When Nick let the colt go, he almost fainted at his speed and agility. He changed leads around the turn and then he was off like a rocket blowing by Claire as if it was no effort at all.

Jamie stood up quickly, forgetting he was crouched low in the back of the equipment shed, hitting his head on the low ceiling. He saw stars but it didn’t keep him from running out to the colt to layer on the love. Claire and Nick walked away to talk about the next step and Jamie put the colt away.

Jamie glanced at his watch, knowing he should head for home to be ready to leave on time. He was escorting Isobel to one of her charity events tonight, but he would rather walk over hot coals. He decided five minutes to celebrate wouldn’t hurt. He went to join Nick and Claire.

“Jesus Jamie, what happened to your head?”

By the concerned look on Nick’s face, Jamie touched his head pulling a bloody hand away. Claire pulled his arm toward her truck and dropped the tailgate giving him a seat while she cleaned the wound.

“My professional opinion is that you need three stitches, maybe four. Do you want me to do it?”

“I’d be grateful lass; I have to attend a function tonight and I’m already late.”

“I worked up quite a sweat racing your goofy colt, so I might not smell fresh as a budding rose.”

Molly grabbed the suture materials Claire asked for and stood on Jamie’s side to hold his hair back. It was the best experience of her life she decided.

Jamie found Claire’s hands to be cool and soothing on his scalp. She moved around to the front of him standing between his knees putting him at eye level with her breasts, it was difficult to look at anything else.

“Do ye ride Sassenach?”

“I used to show hunter jumpers, but not for the last couple of years. I decided to give all my attention to starting my practice, so no hobbies allowed.”

Jamie looked at her hips and wanted to wrap his hands around them before pulling her closer.

“Alright Mister Fraser, all done. I’m sure you don’t want a bandage on your head for your function, so I covered the wound with powder for now. When you get home, put a regular bandage over it for the next three days.”

“Thank ye Sassenach, I’m grateful. Put it on yer wee bill for today.”

“This is a free one since it isn’t legal for me to treat humans.” She gave him a radiant smile and giggled.

Jamie cursed himself for being an idiot, thinking of the doctor in lustful ways. He left quickly to face an impatient Isobel. Every minute spent with Claire, he thought more and more of her. She was a calm and nurturing port in the storm and whatever her gift was, she was using it for good, his good at the moment. As much as he liked her, he now had a comparison for Isobel which would work against him in the days to come.

The yearlings were getting their ground training before the next big step, carrying a rider. The handlers would take the colt to the artificial gate and load him, walk him in and out of trailers, put the bridal and saddle on and off, on and off. Most days he was obedient and followed the handlers lead, but when he saw Claire, he lifted his head trying to see where she went. Some days he would whinny loudly and if there was enough extra lead he would try to rear while he whinnied.

Jamie asked his handler to turn the colt out in the training arena if Claire was there. The handler complied and left the colt in the ring and walked away. He continued to whinny for Claire but what Jamie found astounding is he stood on the starting line for their previous races, or as close as he remembered. He didn’t budge from that spot. He wanted to race.

Again, Nick held him while Claire found her starting point on the rail. It was much farther up so he would have to bust out to beat her. She had primed him with her taunting and emotion to win while Nick struggled to hold him. When Claire took off, so did the colt, flying by her in a blur of bulging butt muscles. Claire stopped, panting for breath and looked around for Jamie who was running from his hiding place. The colt reared up on his hind legs and Claire heard his juvenile ha-haha-ha-ha. She hugged the winner and told him he would be the greatest of all if he just ran fast.

While Molly was willing Jamie to hurt himself so she could touch him again; he, Nick, and Claire were almost speechless in their huddle. Nick was quick to remind them it was too early to pin high hopes on the unpredictable colt and then asked Claire if she knew how to ride.

“Well, that makes two of you to ask me that question. Suppose you tell me what you are thinking?”

“He might refuse to carry anyone but you.”

“A jockey? Me? Don’t be ridiculous Nick. I jumped show horses, that is all. I don’t know the first thing about riding a race.”

“You’re right, sorry, just getting carried away by the speed of that horse.”

Claire chuckled about that comment all the way home and told Molly about it later. Chad heard all about the comments over dinner. The way he looked at her made her stop talking.

“Why are you looking at me that way?”

“Jealousy. Forgive me Claire.”

“Jealousy of what exactly?”

“That Jamie has bred a runner and that he spends three afternoons with you each week. I’m not sure which makes me more jealous.”

He smiled at her with the humility that always melted her heart, however, this was not the first time she felt his words were incongruous with his actions. This was the third date they shared, and his kisses had not produced any observable heat with either of them. They chatted more like friends than potential lovers and he always had her home early. Claire felt a bit cheated. She was ready to share her life with someone who cared about her and this was disappointing as Chad seemed to have no desire to deepen things between them. It wasn’t fair she decided as they walked to her door. He kissed her and she went inside without a word.

Molly heard Claire crying and could not ignore the sounds, so she tapped on her door. Claire answered with a wet face, hair in her eyes, looking miserable.

“What’s wrong Claire?”

“Sorry to disturb you, Molly, I’m being immature and a cry baby because Chad doesn’t like me very much. Why is that, do you think? Haven’t I tried to get cleaned up for our dates and be ready on time? What makes me so hard to like?”

Molly looked at her friend wondering how to answer. It seemed plain as the mole on the end of someone’s nose, but Claire couldn’t see it.

“You always look beautiful Claire but it’s not you, ya know? It’s him.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s gay.”

Claire stared at her like she just declared the earth flat, which was preposterous, but it would explain a lot. She pondered and started crying again.

“Why go out with me th…”

Claire was suddenly quiet. She was finding it hard to breathe as her heart pounded and her body filled with fear. What had she done? Telling Chad about the colt? How would this hurt Jamie?

“I’ve done something terrible Molly. I’ve told Chad about the colt, given information that was only Jamie’s to give. Christ, what have I done?”

She reached a shaking hand for her phone only to have Molly pull it away before she could click to engage the call.

“It’s one-thirty in the morning. Do you really want to wake him up with this? Honestly, Claire, I cannot imagine how this could do any damage. Just pull him aside and talk to him tomorrow, you’ll see.”

Claire looked more relaxed when Molly went to bed. In truth, she barely slept worrying she was complicit in leaking secret information. By the time they rolled into Highland Brothers, Claire was a basket case.

She asked Jamie for some private time. Between that request and the dark circles under eyes, Jamie feared she would have to leave the colt. He was rocked by that thought and it took all his strength not to question her reason for leaving. When they were out of earshot from anyone she lost her battle to remain tear-free and like a dam breaking she was sobbing, saying how sorry she was, asking for forgiveness, not a word of which could be understood by Jamie. He finally grabbed her in a hug and promised to help with whatever it was.

As Claire felt him wrap around her, she felt like the fourth of July inside with sparklers firing away in very specific parts of her body. The crying stopped abruptly because these feelings eclipsed all others, including remorse over her perfidious behavior. Claire wiped her face and looked at Jamie, showing a brave face, she announced the secrets she revealed to Chad and how humiliated she was that he targeted her for that reason.

Jamie listened until she was completely spent, and her eyes lowered to the ground. He was flaming mad at the brute Chad for taking her on a useless quest for information. What angered him the most was the dent this created in her self-esteem, a demotion of how important she was to the world. He could see how crushed she was.

“So ye liked Chad did ye?”

She just nodded her head no.

“I don’t understand then.”

She looked up like he had lost his marbles or maybe he didn’t hear her perfect pronunciation that the British were famous for.

“He tricked me into talking about the colt. I was so proud of him and how fast he was and..”

When the crying started anew Jamie didn’t wait to wrap her in his hug again but his time he was giggling. When she tried to protest his humor, he let her go before she kicked him for being so dense, but he was still laughing.

“I do not understand what you find so funny Mister Fraser.”

“So now I’m Mister Fraser? I’m sorry lass but ye gave no trade secrets away. The whole world knows I have a prospect this year, maybe two, one is mentally damaged and the other doesna run as fast. So I have to work for it. I canna tell ye why Chad wanted information he could’a googled but ye gave nothin away.”

“I am very relieved and I’ll go now, thank you for telling me that.”

With that, she turned on her heel and started walking back. The alarm bells were ringing in Jamie’s head again as he caught up to her and held her arm to stop. His humor gone; he searched her face with a serious demeanor that made her stop breathing for a moment.

“Ye gonna run out on him lass? I know how much ye’ve done for him and now you abandon him?”

Claire was incredulous as she attempted several sentences that ended in mere sputtering. She had that look again like she was talking to the dim-witted.

“Suppose I help ye with the truth of it. I use twitter to update the progress on the colt, every day, and I would yell it from rooftops if I could reach more people. He defines my life, my breeding program, my commitment to the sport and it’s my opportunity to tell the whole world that I have a prospect. So, first thing we do is pull yer guilt out and throw it away. I have faith ye can do this, I need ye to do this. Second, you need to look honestly at this mentally damaged colt and know that wi’out your support he will’na run. He needs ye, I need ye, I will double your anticipated earnings for the next four months if ye dedicate your time to him. Please Sassenach, consider stayin, dinna leave.”

For all the effort Jamie put into losing his Highland bur it always came back when he was stressed. He took a breath and waited, watching her closely.

“Alright Mister Fraser, I’m staying and you have first dibs on my time during the week. And thank you for restoring my… everything. God, I feel so much better.”

Jamie watched her walk away and felt the residual from his physical contact with her. Keep yer distance laddie, he thought and walked to catch up with her.

The morning of the big change was upon the colt. He could feel it and looked for Jamie for reassurance. New yearlings were arriving for training and the energy was palpable. As long as he heard Jamie’s voice, he remained calm, but it didn’t take much to set him off. Claire arrived to groom him and tell him what was happening. She hummed a song as she worked and noticed the colt relaxing into her reassurance. For the next two weeks, the yearlings, now ten of them, would begin rider training. Each day getting closer to running under a jockey, each day learning new things that would get them closer to long races, cheering fans, and the sport they were bred for.

The colt hated the saddle and girth and was annoyed with being lunged all day every day. He pitched a fit a few times and the handler waited for it to end before cracking the whip in the air to keep him going. Claire stood by him for the really hard parts, like putting the bit in his mouth, a full saddle on his back, and people laying across the saddle as he moved. He wanted desperately to race her in the arena, but that bit of fun seemed long gone. She would hum and show him images of racing twenty horses with a jockey on his back. He felt the excitement of such a contest and seemed to accept the changes, the tack, bit and lunging daily, waiting for the day he would race them all.

Each day Claire would bath him after all that work, and he loved the feel of the slippery soap as she hummed. Jamie would come to lay love on him for his efforts and help Claire scrub and then walk him until dry. The three of them seemed happy and excited, but both Jamie and Claire were waging war on the absurd attraction they had to the other.

The day came when the handlers became riders and the colt was attached to the lunge line in full tack easily moving through the gates like he was supposed to. When he was pulled in to the handler. Claire took one side of his bit, a handler on the other side and suddenly there was someone on his back with legs around his middle. That lasted all of ten seconds before he said HELL NO the way horses say such things. The rider was launched from his bucking and three successive attempts ended the same way.

Claire held his face and was very clear this behavior would not be tolerated. This was the only way he could race the others and show the world how fast he was. Like a stubborn child he refused.

Nick and Jamie were watching the progress of all the horses particularly the colt. Nick was laughing as he shook his head.

“It looks like she is scolding him and he is arguing back, look at that!”

“Well, I suspect that is exactly what is happening and so far the colt is winning.”

When three other handlers landed on their bums Claire called time out to grab her things and left without acknowledging the colt. On her way out she walked past Jamie and suggested he go home for a couple hours. They both needed to vanish for the rest of the day and show the colt no support for his behavior. She found Molly asleep on the seat of her truck and woke her gently to drive home. Molly shook the cobwebs from her head and started the truck while Claire collected messages and then routed her to a nearby farm that had a mare foaling.

Jamie drove the back road toward home and couldn’t believe his disappointment over losing his private time with Claire later. He wondered what her afternoon was like just as he did most evenings after she left.

He stopped his truck and recklessly sent her a text message before he continued home.

Claire pulled her phone out and felt dizzy from a simple message from Jamie. ‘I miss talkin with ye today,’ was all it said but from her reaction, he could have told her his compound just burned to the ground. She exhaled and closed her eyes for a few seconds. This crush on Jamie was getting ridiculous. Molly was coming back with a liter of fluids for the mare and caught Claire’s reaction to the message.

“What’s wrong?”

“Not a thing in the world youngster, let’s get this dam’s labor started again, shall we?”

Molly was quiet on the way home tipping her hand that something difficult was about to be said. Claire worked on her files and waited.

“Do you talk to the colt, and does he answer you? What does he say? Do you think he’ll run with a jockey on him? How much longer does he have to get it before his races start?”

She opened her mouth to continue the questioning and Claire held up her hand.

“Yes, he does talk to me although it’s been mostly arguing for the past week. Yes, I talk to him, mostly arguing back about his duty and expectations. I hope he finally stops resisting the rider. It’s absolutely crucial to start the next phase of training. If he doesn’t, he won’t start with the others. He has one more week. Did I get them all?”

Molly laughed at her and asked if she needed help with the notes before Claire started firing questions about the treatments over the past week. By the time they were home, the files were done, and Molly was not making a move to open her door.

“Claire we start your driver training tonight, we still have a couple of hours of daylight left so let’s take advantage of it.”

“What on earth are you talking about Molly.”

“I want you to lend me to another vet until your obligation to the colt is done. I hope like hell you want me back when you go back to the practice.”

“Why, where is this coming from?”

Molly looked right at the woman she admired most in the world and chose her words carefully.

“I am being paid to sleep in the truck all day and I can’t do it anymore. I am not your responsibility and I would rather work.”

Molly was blushing from this difficult admission and it made Claire aware of how hard it was to be completely dependent on another person. She smiled at Molly and agreed to find her an internship with another vet and then she refused the driving lesson. She tried to exit the vehicle and felt Molly’s hand hold her back.

“No I don’t want to drive, thank you anyway.”

“How will you get to Jamie’s every day? You have to drive or this can’t work and I will sleep in my car until you agree, so c’mon.”

Molly got out and opened Claire’s door giving her no alternative but to climb in behind the wheel and shake from fear of sneaky trees appearing at both bumpers trapping her. Molly was pleasantly enjoying the breeze that blew through the open windows showing no discomfort at waiting for Claire. Inside she was an earthquake fearing her aggressive stance on the matter had offended her boss. She heard the engine start and exhaled the breath she was holding.

They stuck to the dirt roads for this first lesson. Nothing Molly said would get the vehicle moving faster than five miles per hour. The sun was setting and Claire was yawning wanting a shower more than anything in the world, Molly watched her discomfort and used it to encourage some speed.

“You are doing so great Claire! You see the end of this roadway down there? If you maintain a speed of thirty miles per hour and don’t cheat, I will drive us home and we are done for tod…”

The truck lurched forward and sped down the road at an impressive thirty-five miles per hour. Molly smiled brightly and clapped for the brave Claire as she traded places and drove them home. In truth, Claire would have risked running into a tree to have a shower and threw caution to the wind.

Later she laid in bed and read Jamie’s text again and again before falling asleep, exhausted.

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crue-sixx · 5 years

Text

Scary Movie Marathon (Mötley Crüe Imagine)

Summary: You and the boys all decide to celebrate the beginning of October by watching some scary movies.

You were sat on the couch between your two friends, Nikki Sixx and Mick Mars, balancing a bowl of popcorn in your lap with one hand while the other held a beer. The youngest member of the group, Tommy Lee, was sitting in a lawn chair that served as furniture as Vince Neil sat on the dingy carpet in front of you. You were all focused on the small tv set that was playing a scary movie, Halloween to be exact. You managed to find the boys a cheap vhs player and provided the movies for the night’s scary movie marathon.

“Jamie Lee is so fucking hot,” Vince commented as it showed her on the screen, running from the house that housed her dead friends and her killer brother.

“I second that statement,” Tommy replied after finishing off his beer and throwing the bottle off to the side, not caring where it went. “Just look at her running, dude.”

“Bunch of fucking perverts,” you mumbled and rolled your eyes at the two guys.

“Hey, don’t be so bitter just because we’re not eye fucking you for once,” Vince retorted and Tommy laughed.

“Eww,” you replied and smacked the back of Vince’s head before throwing some popcorn at Tommy.

Vince rubbed the back of his head with a scowl as Tommy shrugged and picked up the stray popcorn that was on his chest, eating it. Mick watched the young drummer before rolling his eyes at him. He then took a sip of his beer and focused back on the television. You all enjoyed the rest of the film with no other interruptions.

It was Nikki’s turn to pick out the movie so he did just that as you went into the kitchen to make some more popcorn. You were all going through it pretty quickly. Tommy and Nikki were like human garbage disposals. They could eat a good amount of anything.

“So what are we watching, fellas?” You asked as you took your spot on the couch again. Mick was still in his same spot, but Tommy was now sitting beside you with Nikki in the lawn chair.

“The Texas Chainsaw Massacre,” Nikki announced and pressed play on the vhs player.

Your eyes widened as you looked over at the bassist. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre? You didn’t even own that movie so how in the hell were you all about to watch that one? You were a horror movie fan, but you’d never watched that one. That movie freaked you out way too much for some reason. You remember when it came out when you were younger and being too terrified to watch it. Maybe it was how scary Learherface made himself look or the sound of the chainsaw he used. It could also be the fact that they claimed that the events of the movie had happened though you had learned that that was not the case. You weren’t sure what it was, but that movie just freaked you out.

“But...but I didn’t bring that one,” you said to him.

“No, but I found a used copy real cheap at a video store,” he replied and shrugged. “It’s a classic and I saw that you didn’t bring it so I did the honors.”

You nodded once and tried to play off your uneasiness in a cool manner. The boys would never let you hear the end of it if they knew that you were actually scared of a horror movie. Instead, you swallowed down the rest of your beer for some liquid courage and discreetly scooted closer to Mick, who had his arm resting on the back of the couch.

You nervously munched on the popcorn as the movie played. Tommy was helping himself to some as well as Vince. Nikki and Mick were too engrossed in the film and drinking to concern themselves with popcorn. The movie wasn’t as scary as you thought it would be at first. It was pretty interesting and Leatherface had yet to make an appearance. You were all good till the sounds of a chainsaw came into play. You gripped the bowl of popcorn and winced as you watched it all play out. It didn’t really show anything, thank goodness, but it still freaked you out. The ending of the movie was what really did it for you. Leatherface going after that girl with the chainsaw and running wild with it...it was so freaky.

“Y/N, you good?” Mick asked you when he noticed the look on your face.

“What?” You asked him as you glanced over at him. “Yeah, I’m all good. What’s next?”

“We’re all pretty tired so we thought we would call it a night,” Nikki said as he stood from the chair and stretched.

Your eyes widened slightly at the prospect of going home...alone. Sure, Mick would drive you home, but you would be all alone after that with no roommates or anyone.

“Why?” You quickly asked. “It’s still pretty early. We could watch a couple of more.”

“It’s after two in the morning, babe,” Tommy said. “We’re going to have to get in some actual band practice early tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you replied and frowned a bit as you put the bowl of popcorn down. “Well, do you think I could stay the night?”

“You freaked out after all those horror movies or something?” Vince jokingly asked as he stood up and chuckled.

“No,” you answered too quickly, which had all of the guys looking at you. You cleared your throat and tried to recover from your reply. “I mean, no...of course not. Just felt like staying over is all.”

“If you say so,” Vince said and shrugged, not seeming convinced.

“You can bunk with me, Y/N,” Tommy said with a smirk as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “I’ll keep you safe, babe.”

“I am not sharing a bed with you again, Tommy,” you replied and shook his arm away. “You fucking snore. Also, I woke up with something pressed against my back the last time and it was not my most pleasant wake up call.”

Nikki and Vince sniggered as Mick shook his head with an amused grin nonetheless. Tommy wore an offended look, but you knew he wasn’t truly hurt. You were all always poking fun at each other. Nikki offered for you to crash with him in his room since he didn’t have to share it with anyone else. You accepted his offer, happily. You gave Mick a hug before he made his way out of the apartment through the window.

The rest of you retired to the bedrooms. Nikki gave you one of his few clean shirts to wear so you changed into it as he went into the bathroom. You were already laying in bed when he came back in in just his underwear. He switched the light off before he climbed into bed with you. It wasn’t awkward to be sleeping with him in such a way. It wouldn’t be the first time and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last. You’d been friends with him for a while with nothing happening between the two of you much to your dismay. You even knew him back when he still went by Frank.

“So chainsaws freak you out then?” Nikki asked in amusement as you both laid there.

“Shut up, Nikki,” you told him and you could hear him chuckle.

“Better come snuggle up to me,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe from Leatherface. He could hang out around here with how sketchy this area of town is. He seems to go for pretty young things after all. Likes wearing their faces.”

“Shut up, Nikki!” You exclaimed and turned over to him, punching his arm. “You’re not safe either cause you’re pretty too, you bastard! Prettier than me even!”

Nikki laughed and you rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the grin on your own face. You ended up scooting in close to him, however, and he wrapped his arms around you in return. It was comforting and nice laying there with him like that. You’d harbored feelings for the man for a while, but never acted upon them.

“This is nice,” Nikki said and you looked at him, being able to see him through the bit of moonlight coming from his window.

“What?” You asked. “Laying here and being afraid that I’m going to hear the noise of a chainsaw any minute now?”

“No,” Nikki replied and chuckled. “Just laying here with you. I like when you sleep over. It just feels right laying here with you.”

You blushed at his words, not knowing what to say to them. You hadn’t expected that to come from Nikki Sixx. He looked back at you with a smile and you smiled back. You both started leaning into each other more and your lips were about to meet before his door busted open. You jumped away and looked, finding Tommy running in.

“Leatherface is after me, help!” He yelled as Vince ran in as well with some sort of deli meat on his face acting as a mask.

“I’ll make you fucking think Leatherface you bunch of assholes!” You yelled and threw pillows at them both before you jumped out of bed, running after them.

Nikki stayed put in the bed and smiled as he rest his hands behind his head, hearing his two bandmates scream as you inflicted whatever sort of pain on them. “That’s my girl.”

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mondofunnybooks · 5 years

Photo

MONDO FUNNYBOOKS; HITLER, BREXIT THE COMIC ,WEIRD INDIAN GAY PORN AND SADDAM HUSSEIN ON AN OSTRICH!

There was a time where comic creators worked to cause up a stink. Keith Giffen shot a comic (We're still after one, please, Dave or anyone else who worked for Blackball.) Kevin Maguire made ALL of Steve Rogers embossed. Spawn shipped 2 issues out of order. Lobo punched God in the face. Kyle Rayner became a Green Lantern. Barry Windsor Smith said some of the early Image Comics were a bit rubbish while promoting his new book 'Storyteller'. Youngblood: Year One would feature fully painted art by Rob Liefeld, akin to just released hit 'Marvels', featuring painted art by Alex Ross. Tom DeFalco famously declared his new ongoing from Marvel, 'Sleepwalker', would be 'Sandman' done right.

Copies of Sleepwalker are usually found in cheap bins across the Western hemisphere so feel free to judge for yourself how successful he was with that.

But for our money, nobody stirred up trouble like Gregarious Grant Morrison. His interview alongside Mark Millar with Comics World to promote their upcoming mini-series 'Skrull Kill Krew' remains one of the funniest moments of 'What a load of old bollocks this is!' vindictiveness since John Buscema told everyone in his art class to swipe since 'this stuff ain't going in the Lourve, pal.' Some of the less informed American hype rags attempted to suggest that SKK was the natural sequel to Zenith since it would see Morrison reunite with his partner in crime: Steve Yeowell.

Which either means they didn't know, or thought it wiser not to mention a strip that ran in Crisis circa 1990 called 'New Adventures Of Hitler'.

We'll come back to Crisis in more depth because it's probably the answer to the question a lot of the UK retailers are asking at the moment: How do we get people reading comics again. Crisis or something like it would be a good attempt, featuring a ton of original strips in a format that didn't suggest it ought to be stocked amongst a bunch of plastic bags full of toys and a magazine. Crisis also featured two of our favourite stories: 'Dare' which finished off from the sadly cancelled Revolver (Again, more another time.) as created by Grant and Rian Hughes and 'Trip To Tulum'. Which oddly was the only way to find the English translation of the collaboration by Milo Manara and Federico Fellini for quite a long time. God knows how they even got that in the first place.

NAH featured in issues 46-49 and surprised a few newsagents opening their delivery at 5am across the UK when confronted with 'Mr Hitler's Holiday', featuring your man from The Third on a bike against a dirty lurid purple cover. NAH concerned itself with Adolf taking a trip to Liverpool from 1912-1913 and learning a few tricks about fascism from the English while reality warps itself silly around the wee lad. Morrisey shows up singing 'Heaven Knows i'm Miserable Now'. A bunch of randoms begin chanting 'Hitler Has Only Got One Ball' on a bus he's on leaving the future Fuhrer mystified and mortified.

'NAH' originally ran in something called 'Cut' magazine but one of the editors, also someone from a band called 'Hue & Cry' having a strop so either 'Cut' itself stopped or at least stopped running the story. In any event, it migrated over to Crisis. It's rather excellent and while we don't know who owns the rights to it, it's one of those things that really ought to be in print.

Speaking of which......

Those more in the know will have to explain it to us, because the common answer is 'Because Grant and Mark aren't friends anymore.' and we're not sure that's how book publishing works, but the question is obviously 'Why isn't Big Dave in print?' If ANY comic were a timely insight into the mindset of the Brexit voting population of the UK, 'Big Dave' prophetically nails it like a time bullet fired from 1993. Essentially a high budget Viz strip beautifully pencilled by Steve Parkhouse, BD is a series of increasing ludricious adventures featuring that wide necked bloke in an England shirt with a bulldog tattooed to his forehead you see every St George's Day with a copy of The Sun in his back packet. It is ludicriously sexist, homophobic, racist and pro-monarchy.

Or at least the character is. Quite a few people seemed to confuse 'the portrayal of an attitude' with 'the glorfication of same attitude'. 2000AD apparently getting a bit narky if you bring this not being in print up. Frankly, if you don't find Dave having a threesome with Princess Di and Sarah Ferguson funny, you're probably reading the wrong column. We'd like to see this back in print. And please, please do not feel compelled to update this strip the same way 'DR & Quinch' was earlier this year. We'll stick that little relaunch in the same bin as the 'Femme Fatales/What if our artists swiped from Loaded and stuck some 2000AD related costumes on the art.' supplement from 1994, aye?

Finally, we go from the unreprintable to the never even published and perhaps not even written!

Unless somebody does something incredible, we will probably go to our graves saying that 'Kill Your Boyfriend' by Morrison & Bond is the best single story in comics ever published. This, before old men start getting heart attacks, does not include long form series, mini-series, single graphic novels, cartoon strips, etc. In terms of a story that starts, continues and ends in one issue with no knowledge of any other comic ever published, KYB is it. It brings up and destroys the notion of the personality as anything other than a series of reactions to various traumas and conditioning far faster than 'The Dice Man' does and with much funnier results. It could be read as the documentation of how a good acid trip will crack the inner monologue of the ego and set your inner self free, if you were of such a mind. It's certainly one of the best things Vertigo ever did.

'KYB' was part of a line called 'Vertigo Voices' published in 1995. The other books were 'Faces' by Pete 'Shade' The Changing Man'* Milligan and Duncan 'Oh, all the good things' Fegredo a book about why is plastic surgery and what does it say about us that we've conditioned ourselves to believe that there is such a thing as an imperfect face. Also 'Tainted' by Delano and Davidson (we've not read it, but the line up is well sound) and another book that we'll come back to in a bit but what's relevant here is that there was meant to be another comic in this line.

That comic would have been 'Bizarre Boys' by Grant Morrison, Pete Milligan and Jamie Hewlett.

The legend is that a suitably refreshed Grant and Pete were out in India and were looking around at various stalls filled with magazines, amidst the chaos the publication 'Bizarre Boys' caught their eye and was so outlandish (we're not Googling it, but nor are we stopping you from doing so.) that they committed right there to sell a comic with the same title to Vertigo. It got as far as being previewed in Spin Nov 1994 along with talk of an Invisibles TV Show (and come on. PLEASE. Netflix has cleared the deck of all the boring Marvel Superhero things so now is the PERFECT time for the adventures of Lord Fanny And The Other Ones.) but somewhere along the line it simply dropped from the publication schedule with no word of why, although as the comic was to be a fictional biography of Milligan and Morrison's alter egos, it's suggested that they were too busy living the life to settle down long enough to document.

We'd have to make the point that an oral account of the Vertigo offices circa 1994-1996 as spoken by Pete and Grant while drawn by Jamie would be a far more interesting thing to bring us back to the shops for new comics than, well, Tank Girl or Green Lantern.

The following pitch ran as part of The Time Is Now: DC Comics' Editorial Presentation 1994.

'Here's the solicitation copy for Bizarre Boys, which ran as part of The VERTIGO does what it does best in VERTIGO VOICES - a new umbrella title for four distinctive one-shots - where four of VERTIGO's most creatively deranged writers give voice to their most outrageous, gripping and graphic imaginings. Each "VOICE" delivers its own sound, in turn hyperreal, darkly disturbing, irreverent, and biting. FACE is the first "VOICE" to be heard, followed by KILL YOUR BOYFRIEND, and closing with BIZARRE BOYS. These are stories with sounds all their own, tearing a jagged rip through reality.

BIZARRE BOYS, VERTIGO VOICES' most irreverent title, is a story within a story within a story. It's about some fictional characters called the Bizarre Boys, and about the writers who write them and about the writers who are writing about the writers... There are two voices telling the tale of BIZARRE BOYS, and they don't agree with each other at all.

BIZARRE BOYS is a comic about a comic and about the process of putting together a comic. It's a sparkling tapestry of post-modernism and a fast- moving breathless chase across time and space.

It all takes place - naturally - on Bizarre Boys Day, when writers Peter Milligan (SHADE, THE CHANGING MAN) and Grant Morrison (THE INVISIBLES) join forces with artist Jamie Hewlett (SHADE, THE CHANGING MAN, Tank Girl) to tell the tale of two writers called Millison and Morrigan, and their fabulous creations, The Bizarre Boys. Echoing James Joyce's Bloomsday, whatever events happen on Bizarre Boys Day also happen in the comic.

As the two writers begin their quest for the fantastic Bizarre Boys, whose sweat contains miraculous healing and hallucinogenic properties, these latter-day Brothers Grimm weave some dissolute modern fairy tales, take the wraps off the creative process itself, and tell a joke or three.'

We're told by inside sources that elements of 'Bizarre Boys' ran in the final book of The Vertigo Voices line: 'The Eaters' as drawn by Dean Ormston and Pete Milligan.

And that's us for now. What do YOU think? Should these projects remain in the dustbin of FunnyBook History? Maybe Kickstarters, er, started to try and release them as independent books (Lord knows if Cyberfrog can be a thing again, then...) Amazon have begun publishing comics directly from creators like Kyle Baker and Rick Veitch, which could sidestep the whole 'Comics are for kids so why is this in Sainsbury's!?' furor all over again. Image has put out some fairly anondyne nonsense lately and could do with something like this in their line-up. Let us know in the comments and as ever we'll see you in The FunnyPages.

(Big Dave ran as part of 2000AD's 'Summer Offensive' in 1993, some of the most fun the Progs have ever been. Big Dave features in the following issues*:)

"Target Baghdad" (with Steve Parkhouse, in 2000 AD #842–845, 1993) "Monarchy in the UK" (with Steve Parkhouse, in 2000 AD #846–849, 1993) "Young Dave" (with Steve Parkhouse, in 2000AD Yearbook 1994, 1993) "Costa del Chaos" (with Anthony Williams, in 2000 AD #869–872, 1994) "Wotta Lotta Balls" (with Steve Parkhouse, in 2000 AD #904–907, 1994)

*according to Wiki, anyway.

'New Adventures Of Hitler' can be found in Crisis: #46 - 49.

#Grant Morrison #Mark Millar #2000AD #New Adventures Of Hitler #Crisis #Skrull Kill Krew #Zenith #Vertigo #Steve Parkhouse #Phillip Bond #Steve Yeowell #DC #Jamie Hewlett

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jumpboy-rembrandt · 6 years

Text

Rule of Threes

[a metafic about remmy rembrandt]

Nadiya thinks he’s a failure.

That isn’t even his imagination acting up; she said as much the first time they met. Rembrandt? You mean Christopher Rembrandt, the man who gave up a spot in the Olympics and then embarrassed himself on national television? Tragic.

Even though she isn’t his brother – she’s barely his friend – it melts down the back of his throat and coats his lungs, and the disappointment bounces around his head like the rubber balls he and Elijah used to hoard from the arcade down the road. Dump them out and watch them bounce, bounce, bounce across the kitchen.

Remmy liked to think of himself as a cool kid. He could do a backflip better than anyone else in his grade – taking gymnastics since age seven would do that – and he could kick anyone’s butt at Pokémon.

Simon Lawson didn’t think he was cool, though. Simon played hockey with his friends in the culdesac and read lots of books about space. One time he nudged a thick novel about Martian colonies into the aisle as Remmy was walking past, making him trip and spill his lunch tray. Simon though Remmy was weird, and Remmy’s friends thought Simon was a jerk.

Remmy didn’t really mind, though. He lived across the street from Simon and remembers when Mr. Lawson got offended about Remmy’s parents inviting Simon to come to gymnastics practice. Apparently, no one had ever told Mr. Lawson that boys were allowed to do gymnastics, and he got really upset when he was told otherwise.

It wasn’t Simon’s fault that his dad was so emotional. That’s why Remmy just sat up, scooped whatever he could back onto his tray, and turned to Simon with a sheepish grin to apologize for stepping on his book. Simon smirked at his friends, but Remmy knew that Simon snuck into his backyard sometimes to play on his trampoline. Maybe one day Remmy will come outside too and show him how to do a flip.

People aren’t mean for no reason. Sometimes you just need to figure that reason out, and be as nice as you can in the meantime.

That’s why Remmy knew that Nadiya wasn’t a bad person, and someday soon he’s going to find her trampoline.

One time in fourth grade, Remmy rode the swing until he got as high as he could and jumped. He went clear over Rosa’s head and hit the ground running, stumbling, falling into a puddle. The cold mud seeping through his clothes barely registered. He was giddy from his two seconds of weightlessness, flying through the air like a superhero.

When Remmy got accepted onto the Olympic team, it was just as euphoric. He felt like he was flying, flying, flying—

You don’t always land in a muddy puddle. Sometimes there’s just gravel that digs into your knees and leaves jagged scars.

He still could’ve competed. Some say that he should’ve. He’d been working towards this for the past decade, ever since he ran into the gymnastics building clutching his dad’s hand and bouncing with excitement.

That’s what it came down to, though, wasn’t it? His dad wasn’t there to squeeze his hand before he walked onto the mats, and his mom wasn’t there to wave her neon posterboard signs and annoy the people sitting behind her.

He needed his family. He needed to sit up with Eli until the early hours of the morning, flipping through photo albums and watching American Ninja Warrior and learning how to make pancakes with the shapes drawn on them like their mother used to. He needed to cry and scream and let himself be upset like he never could around anyone else.

He needed his big brother. And his big brother needed him.

Years passed, and it got a little easier. He and Eli had big dreams shaped like warped walls and salmon ladders, and they dedicated themselves to bringing those dreams to life.

It was like they were kids again, crafting an excess of obstacles in their backyard and daring each other to do it again, but faster. Their backyard turned into a studio, and their rotting tree branches into balance beams, and Remmy could almost forget that 2008 had ever happened.

Yet, some reminders of adulthood were louder – and sweeter – than others.

Remmy adores his nephew. Little Robin Rembrandt is the apple of his eye and he makes sure the kid knows it every day.

He remembers the night Robin was born, and how he got to be the first person to hold him right after Eli and his girlfriend, and how elated he was when Robin made soft, sleepy noises at him.

He also remembers sitting in the hallway with Eli afterwards, rubbing circles into his big brother’s back as he sobbed. Whenever he and Eli had complained that their parents were being embarrassing, mom and dad would reassure them that they were going to be even worse about embarrassing their grandchildren.

It felt wrong to be sitting in the maternity ward without their parents showering Eli in kisses and burying Robin under piles of stuffed toys. So, so many years had passed, but at times like this, it stung like it had only been days.

Remmy introduces himself to the interviewer for the Do Good Fellowship. She perks up and says that she recognizes his name. Wasn’t he in the Olympics a few years back? Remmy manages a small smile.

“Almost,” he says. She raises an eyebrow.

“Miss a qualifying round?” she asks, and for a second Remmy is so, so tempted to say yes.

“Dropped out,” he tells her with a shrug. She raises her other eyebrow.

“…Interesting,” she says, scribbling something in the margin of her notebook. “Well, I hope you won’t pass up this opportunity too.” Remmy composes himself before she looks back up, relaxing his grit teeth and blinking frustrated tears from his eyes.

“Me too,” he says.

Remmy smiled and laughed during the interviews, shook hands and congratulated his competitors, and then went back to his car and cried until he began retching.

At least for the Olympics he hadn’t shown up. At least for the Olympics he had an excuse. At least for the Olympics he had been able to go home and hug his brother and cry and cry and cry.

Right now, he wasn’t sure Elijah would even look him in the eye.

That wasn’t true, and he logically knew it wasn’t true, but every other part of him was getting weighed down by the thick sheets of disappointment and failure that squeezed his lungs until he couldn’t breathe and shut down every thought in his brain.

Elijah found him sitting in a Dairy Queen parking lot, curled up in the back seat and surrounded by empty wrappers. He crawled in next to his little brother and held him and told him that they were going to be okay, that they could figure this out. Remmy just nodded into his chest, silent tears still rolling down his face.

It was a few weeks and several job interviews before he let himself play with Robin again. Elijah had been through enough, and Remmy had been supposed to be his big break. He was going to make it up to him. He had to.

Irene asks what his favorite movie is. Remmy thinks about the late nights he stayed up watching Stick It, crying into a bowl of dry cereal and wishing that his story could’ve gotten a happy ending.

“It’s actually Flubber, which is weird,” he replies with a painted-on grin.

“That is so strange,” Irene tells him, smiling back. She seems scared, though. He hopes she thinks that’s why he’s shaking too.

The Fellowship was going to be his happy ending. After this, he wouldn’t need anymore graveyard shifts or long commutes, just living on site and fixing computers for the world’s best and brightest. He would earn enough money to pay for the gym, to pay Eli’s rent, to get Robin into a nice school.

This was it. Sure, they seemed awfully interested in his gymnastic background. Yeah, he seemed stuck with a person who hated him for reasons beyond his understanding. And of course, not all of his coworkers were nice.

One time, Remmy’s coworker at one of many part-time jobs said something snarky about the rainbow bracelet he was wearing. Remmy twisted it around his wrist and grinned sheepishly, explaining that he got it from a parade he went to in Chicago a few years back. The coworker snorted and made eye contact with his friend over Remmy’s shoulder.

People aren’t mean for no reason, but sometimes that reason is bullshit.

So when Nadiya eviscerates Jamie, he has to bite back a laugh. It may not be his style, but listening to the string of threats backed by Walking On Sunshine wasn’t a wholly unpleasant experience.

Unfortunately, some coworkers ran a little darker than Jamie.

He failed out of the Olympics. He failed out of American Ninja Warrior. And now…rule of threes, baby.

Remmy had thought he could avoid this by dropping gymnastics – there couldn’t be a third failure if he retired to computers. But, alas, life had it out for him and now so does the Do Good Fellowship.

He stared through the windshield. Kardala’s hair was brushing his face from where she was collapsed against his shoulder, sleeping soundly. Nadiya was driving, arguing with Mary in the passenger seat about the nearest restaurant.

Was this a failure? The usual rush of tears hadn’t hit him yet. He felt empty, ethereal, floating slightly out of his body. He focused on the hair brushing across his nose, grounding himself, and trying not to sneeze into the goddess’s hair.

The first time, Remmy lost his parents and gymnastics – the sport they supported him through for more than half his life – in a few disastrous days. The second, he nearly destroyed his relationship with his brother at the hands of the activity they cherished. And this time��

Well.

His powers definitely caused a predicament, but he still had them. And, to be honest, the loss of the Fellowship didn’t really hit him too hard. Maybe this wasn’t a failure. Or, maybe he’s just become numb to the feelings of guilt and disappointment.

The arguing in the front seat reaches a crescendo and Kardala wakes up long enough to shout that they will go to “wherever the orange one wants, now let me sleep or you will both regret it dearly.” A smile twitches across Remmy’s face. Oh. That makes sense.

The Fellowship may have given him powers, but they don’t tie him to an organization. They connect him to people, to Nadiya and Irene and Kardala and Mary Sage. The ‘Berg may be gone, and it’s possible they’re on a watchlist, but he still has the four of them.

He sure would like a fifth, though.

Remmy taps the center console, interrupting the icy silence between the girls.

“Mary, I know you’ve got a burner phone. Can I borrow it?” he asks. “I really need to call my brother.

#um.#i have feelings about remmy rembrandt? sue me. it's birdie's fault for the playlist.#barely edited #update: has been edited #remmy #fic #text

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131sthungergames · 3 years

Text

the night before.

"Apocalyptic town?" Everyone was looking at Yekaterina warily, questions reflecting in their eyes as they regarded her. "What does that even mean?"

"I imagine a wasteland only with more skyscrapers." Eros weighed in, having received the information about this year's arena mere minutes before the rest of their alliance joined the 9 headquarters. He was sprawled on a couch, taking more space than he should, limbs hanging from the soft furniture.

Yekaterina was standing behind him, hands on the hips as she contemplated their strategy. "It's a city, so the Cornucopia would most logically be placed at some square, in the center of it all. We move first for the weapons, Lars and Jamie stay behind until we've secured defense, then you'll go in for the supplies. Kas and Holden will be on the lookout for the long distance threats, me and Eros will guard you from up close. When you have at least four backpacks of useful supplies we can retreat to some abandoned building, preferably high up so we have an advantage. We'll be on the move each day to avoid possible threats from the arena or the tributes. We attack if attacked, we don't stir trouble for no reason."

"Well, not for the tributes at least." Eros added and the two exchanged knowing smirks.

"True, we have to remember who's the real enemy. And those scared shitless kids aren't that."

"There's everything at stake!" Alice shouted, frustrated. The stress from the tomorrow's happenings was getting to her and she was taking it out on the wrong person, she knew. But consciously knowing something and applying it to actions were two different things.

"I know. I know, Alice." Aquata placated her, putting comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I had a life. I had it all planned out." Alice repeated frantically, the reality of tomorrow catching up to her. Perhaps anyone else would find Alice's whines irritating and condescending, Aquata couldn't help but feel sorry for the girl. From what she had heard, it truly seemed like the girl had the perfect life. Came from a good family, worked on herself her whole life, working her way up to her dream job, falling in love and getting engaged with her high school sweetheart. Seemed like a script for a tragic comedy.

"You are going to hide and I'll try to get us some supplies, alright?" Aquata hoped to calm her down by reminding her that she wouldn't be in the middle of the confrontation.

"No, something will happen to you." Alice argued, visibly displeased by the idea of being left alone.

"We can't be without supplies Alice, we won't last a day. You don't know how deadly the arena will be this year. Either we both go or I'll go alone but we can't both run away." Aquata explained, her tone soothing. She could see in Alice's eyes that she was caving.

"Alright. We'll both go."

They were both at Cleon's headquarters, Hermes nibbling on the leftovers from their dinner and Cleon going through their list of possible threats. It was a somewhat strangely pleasant harmony, considering the date.

"I still don't understand why I can't fight." Hermes interrupted Cleon's concentration, his speech muffled by the consumed food.

"Ever heard of not speaking with your mouth full?" Cleon asked, criticizing Hermes' lack of manners, avoiding the original question.

Hermes chuckled, swallowing down his food.

"No, I was raised by the bears. And don't stray from the question, I'd be great with a sword."

"First you'd have to get the sword. Besides I'm not keeping you around for you muscles, or lack thereof -"

"Hurts, man."

"I'm keeping you for your brain. Don't have much of a use for a dead genius." Cleon finished, ignoring the interruption.

"Just admit that you'd miss me." Hermes joked before returning to his food and Cleon didn't deign that statement with a response of his own. Truth was he had grown fond of his younger ally as much as he refused to admit it to anyone, not even himself. Affection came at great cost in the games. It was better for both of them if he denied their friendship.

Astrid was seated on the couch, her body gracefully leaning against the backrest, optically elongated her figure as she watched the rest of her allies. Noah and Victoria were sharing the couch with her, while Alexey was going over the game plan again with Circe by his side nodding along. Astrid didn't understand the need to repeat their tactics, it wasn't any different from the usual career plan. Seize the Cornucopia with supplies, kill anybody who tries to interfere. Regroup, redistribute weapons and make note of supplies, then go on a hunt at night. Simple as that.

"Noah, Circe and I will be the offense, you girls and Anton will be our defense."

"Where's Anton?" Astrid asked leaning over to see Victoria clearer. Victoria copied Astrid's movement, leaning towards the girl before replying in a quiet conspiratorial tone.

"Went to bed early. Something about needing to be freshly rested for tomorrow. I promised him I'd give him a recap in the morning."

Alexey cleared his throat, displeased about the albeit quick disruption. "As I was saying we go in offense, take as many tributes as we can. Then we take five, count our supplies and we'll go for a hunt. Last year six people died by the hands of careers during the bloodbath. I don't know about you, but for me this number is painstakingly low. I say we go for at least 8 this year, ten if we're feeling ambitious."

Astrid stifled chuckle into the sleeve of her jacket, double digit kills weren't ambitious, they were nearly impossible these last years with the outer districts grouping into larger alliances. But she wasn't about to say that out loud.

"How are we on the #11 recruiting? The killer, is he with us?" Circe asked pointedly, looking at Victoria.

"I don't know, Anton avoided the question when I asked." Victoria replied, shrugging her shoulders as if 'what can you do'.

"Fucking Anton." Circe muttered underneath her breath. "He was supposed to be here with us right now, not napping like some beauty queen."

"He promised he'll get him." Victoria argued on his behalf, even though she had no idea how the whole thing went.

Atlas was looking up at the ceiling of his own room, wondering about tomorrow. He was a lousy drug dealer, no one really, a street rat from the lowest district whose death no one would remember. He refused Sanvi's offer of alliance for that simple reason. He had nothing to offer and he'd be more of a liability than anything. His withdrawals were making it difficult to focus and he wasn't much regarding physical agility or intelligence.

The only ally he figured wouldn't be hurt by his presence was the killer from #11, the one who looked like he knew more about everyone than they knew about themselves. He didn't know him that well, but he knew enough to tell that most of the things that flew around him were lies.

Nevertheless he wasn't sure what to think of him. He had seen him with the career from #4, looking more familiar that they should with each other when no one was watching. It piqued Atlas' curiosity, yet he never gathered the courage to ask his ally about it. Not to mention he figured it wasn't any of his business really.

He feared tomorrow, as anyone would. He played tough in his line of work, lying in his bed like this, all alone and with the possibility that there were only few hours separating him from his death. That scared him like nothing before.

"Get out."

"Wait, Zane, please just let me." Anton begged, his breath catching up with him as he exited the elevator to the #11 quarters, rushing towards the other boy. Zane didn't have to look around he knew in the instant the elevator chimed who it was. Layla was at a meeting with her allies, their mentor was long asleep in his drunken stupor and their escort wouldn't come at such a late hour. Nevertheless, Zane had zero desire talking to the career boy.

"Please. Let me explain." He sounded desperate. Good.

Zane turned around to face the blonde. He had tears pooling in his eyes and Zane can't remember ever seeing him so . . . broken. His heart would have broken at that sight if it hadn't already been broken by the man in question only few hours ago.

"I'm not interested in anything you might say." Zane muttered, although it was a lie. He was curious to hear whatever excuse his ex-lover managed to glue together on such a short notice, it was his heart that wasn't capable of bearing any more deceptions.

"I lo-"

"Don't you dare say that." Zane spat out angrily, fingers curling by his side into two fist balls.

"I need to say the words." Anton pleaded, his hand outstretched towards Zane as he tried stepping closer to him only to have Zane duck out to the kitchen.

He grabbed one of the clean glasses, feeling the intense need to occupy his hands, to focus on something, on anything that wasn't him. Turning the faucet on, he poured himself water. Up until now he hadn't realized how much his throat dried. After hydrating his vocal chords he turned around, leaning against the sink as he looked at the intruder. While he had his back turned Anton apparently followed him and was now standing in a spitting distance.

"I can't -" Zane cleared his throat, his guard thrown off by the other's presence. "I can't hear them. Not after, not after what you did."

"There isn't a second that I don't regret it, but my original intentions have nothing to do with how I feel about you." Anton argued, his feet dragging him half-step closer and Zane wouldn't need to do more than tilt his head to have their lips touching at that moment but he couldn't let himself be manipulated like that again. Knowing he needed to get away from that close proximity he cleared his throat, brushing past Anton to sit at the marble table that was more for decoration than actual sitting, somehow believing that the inanimate object would protect him from the allure of the other boy.

He should have known that it was no use because in few seconds Anton was back in front of him, dropping to his knees next to Zane's chair, eyes lifting up to meet his. "What can I do to make you believe me? You want me to leave the careers, be on my own?"

Zane licked his lips, looking everywhere but at the crouched figured gripping the edge of his seat. Did he want that? Yesterday the answer would have been simple.

"You won't leave the careers." He replied instead, shaking his head at that ridiculous thought.

"I will. For you, I would do anything for you, because I-" Anton cut himself off, biting into his lip as he remembered the previous reaction his attempted confession evoked. "You don't want me to say it, but I do. I do, so much."

Oh how much Zane wanted to believe him. He wanted to put it past them, to pretend nothing happened but how could he trust him again?

"Let me prove it you." Zane felt a soft kiss grazing his knee and he knew he couldn't keep the game up for much longer. He knew there was a high chance he was getting himself in a trap but he just didn't care anymore, not with everything he's ever wanted kneeling beside him and asking for forgiveness. He found himself nodding at those words, catching Anton by the back of his neck and pulling him to his eye-level.

"Alright." Zane nodded once more, his eyes flickering to the other man's lips. "I believe you."

"Repeat our game plan to me." Konstantina ordered in a monotone voice, like a kindergarden teacher explaining basic mathematics to her students for the umpteenth time.

"You go in for the kills, I run in the opposite direction, we meet around sundown south-west from the Cornucopia." Yvaine repeated, her speech muffled as her cheeks rested heavily on her clenched fist, exasperated at having to repeat it again. She figured from the beginning that Konstantina had a very low opinion of her, especially wherever her intelligence was concerned.

"Which way is south-west?" The brunette quizzed, electing an exaggerated eye-roll from the blonde before stretching her arm out in the south-east direction.

"Kidding." Yvaine smirked before switching hands and pointing towards the correct direction before Konstantina could unleash her pent-up anger.

"This isn't a joke, blondie." Konstantina enunciated each word, pausing between them for an added effect. It looked like it was taking every bit of her effort not to physically maim the other.

"Relax, we'll be fine. You'll do your swish wish stab stab pokey poke and I'll be waiting for my sponsorship somewhere safe. It will all work out."

They were lying in the bed, Kasia's blonde crown of hair sprawled on Jamie's shoulder, their hands joined against the satin fabric of her pajamas. They were content, happy even, considering what they'll have to face only in few hours. Both of them were too high-strung to do anything but enjoy the warmth of another, grateful for these last moments of peace.

"I'm scared." Jamie admitted quietly. At home he was always taunted for being weak, for not living up to the stereotypes but with Kasia he knew he could be himself and admit his fears without being judged.

"I know." Her free hand, the one that isn't joined with his, begins to trace spirals on his deltoid muscle. "I'm afraid too. Not for myself but for you. For Kat. Eros." She confesses, voice barely above whisper as she buries her head deeper in his shoulder.

They are quiet for a while and Jamie wonders whether his companion had fallen asleep before she stirs in his arms, propping her chin against his shoulder and looks up at him.

"Do you think we'll make it far?" She asks and he hates how small her voice sounds. He doesn't want her to think like that, because he hasn't allowed even himself that train of thoughts. He knew he wasn't a victor material. Neither was Kasia as much as he chastised himself for thinking it. Perhaps that was why Kasia phrased her question the way she did. She was always self-aware like that.

"Don't think this way." He settled on a response because he didn't want to disclose his true thoughts. The ones that told him he wouldn't make it far.

"Layla goes for supplies and the three of us cover her, got it? Quick operation, in and out. We get as much as we can but not at the costs of our lives, alright?" Sanvi's eyes flickered from Arthur to Genie. both of which nodded their head. Layla was trying to stay alert, although it was apparent that her meds were kicking in and she was starting to doze off.

"We need to stay alive, that's our main objective." Sanvi added, because she could see in Arthur's eyes that he wanted nothing more than to prove himself capable. And Sanvi understood, she could get behind the story of living in the shadows and wanting to prove herself. Arthur wasn't the only one who had to suffer through the weeks-long bullying from the #1 and #2 district pair, acting like they were above everyone. She'd want nothing more than to knock them down a notch, but this needed to be a teamwork. They needed to work together to survive and not pursue their own agenda.

"I just wish I could wipe that smirk off Shaw's face. Or Romero's." Arthur confessed, his words bitter and dejected.

"You will, but not at the bloodbath. That's where they have an advantage, we need to catch them off their guard." She reasoned and by the look on Arthur's face he agreed with the logic of that, yet it was apparent that he didn't enjoy the pacifistic plan.

The meeting went on for longer than any of them expected and it was well past midnight when both Holden and Lars stepped into the elevator to retreat to their respectful headquarters.

"Listen, I'm sorry about last night." Holden began because he didn't want to leave for the games tomorrow with bad blood between them. "I shouldn't have, I overstepped my boundaries."

When Lars looked at him, hazel brown eyes boring into his, the answer he got was far from the one he expected. "You didn't." His voice a whisper but resonating in the empty elevator as if shouted from the rooftops.

"I - I didn't?" Holden asked, needing the reassurance. His usual arrogant voice stripped away, leaving him with insecurity and worry. For some reason it made Lars smile, seeing the armor let away simply by his presence. He didn't know what to do with power like that.

"No." Lars smiled before pressing the stop button blindly, his gaze fixated on the man in front of him. In less than a second he closed the distance between them, lips finding lips and chest pressed against chest.

It took Holden few seconds to respond, to get used to the other man taking initiative and it seemed he had waited for too long because Lars was moving away, his eyes confused and his lips opened in what surely was supposed to be an apology but before any verbal remorse could be formed Holden grasped the younger man's waist, flushing their bodies together before closing distance again. Their lips collided, this time both of them responding with equal fervor as Holden backed Lars into the nearest wall. There were so many questions that he would have asked were he in his right mind but it just so happened that the brilliant mind of his got lost somewhere with all the blood rushing south.

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takemeawaytocamelot · 7 years

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Red Jamie and the White Lady - Part 24

I’m so pleased to have been able to write and polish this chapter in time to post it this week! Thanks to my AMAZING helpers @diversemediums and @outlandishchridhe who have helped me map out these Gifts and figure out how all this works. I’m still so amazed at the responses I’ve gotten from all of you for this series and can’t wait to take you on the rest of the ride with me!

Catch up on chapter 23 HERE and make sure you’ve read the letter Willie wrote Jamie just before he died, which you can find HERE

Claire began drawing invisible patterns on Jamie’s chest, trying to decide how to bring up her next topic.

“What do you plan to do with Fergus?”

“Keep him wi’ us.”

“We’re keeping the orphaned pickpocket?”

Jamie sat up to get a better look at her, studying her face.

“Weel I canna set him on the streets of Paris. That’s no’ fair to him. And… I promised that I’d take care o’ him. He’s a child, Claire.”

“Yes, but you caught him while he was following me. How are you so sure we can trust him?”

Claire listened as Jamie relayed Fergus’ colorful history to her.

“And,” Jamie said, wrapping up his explanation. “He canna return to Bonnet. I’ve never met the man, myself, but I dinna trust him. No’ after what Fergus has told me about him.”

She met his eyes, electric blue and swirling slowly.

“I suppose you’re right. And you’re sure he’s not a spy for Bonnet? Until today, I’d never even heard that name before.” Claire put her palm on Jamie’s chest when he looked ready to get defensive. “I’m not saying we can’t take him with us or give him a home here. I’m just making sure you’ve thought this through.”

Jamie sighed, rubbing her back absently.

“Aye, I ken you’re lookin’ out for us. But Fergus told me he didna want to work for Bonnet in the first place. Gave me his word that he wouldna turn us over to the man and I choose to believe him.”

“What does Bonnet want with you?” she asked tentatively.

Jamie’s mouth compressed.

“From what I understand, he’s a member of the government branch lookin’ for me. Fergus said Bonnet is the man in charge and they’ve been huntin’ me for a long time.”

“And you haven’t Seen him before?”

Jamie shook his head.

“No. Whenever I Look for him, I usually get shadows or the backs of heads. No’ enough to identify a man. I havena had a name to Look for either. That makes things difficult.”

“Will you Look right now?”

Jamie shook his head.

“Nah. Bonnet doesna ken where I am. He canna track Fergus now either, so he’ll be left wandering about Paris.”

Claire nodded and relaxed.

“Alright. If you trust him, then I trust you.”

Jamie settled her more comfortably against him. They sat in silence for a little while, simply enjoying each other’s company.

“Jamie?”

“Hm?”

“I was just thinking… about the onset of Gifts. When we were at Lallybroch, you talked about eleven being an early age.”

“Aye,” he replied, tone encouraging her to continue.

“It's just… how this works. Gifts, I mean. The different sorts, the ways in which the person can use them, the manifestation around the age of puberty… it's just… fascinating.”

“Do ye have any theories?” Jamie asked, looking down at her, heart squeezing as she bit her lip in thought.

“Well, to me, it seems like the brain is the control center. Which is plausible because the brain is the control center for the body so why wouldn't Gifts originate there? The limbic system is a series of connections that controls our responses, emotions, personality… I wonder if there's something about us that is predisposed to Gifts. If they are bound to manifest all along or if they are triggered by circumstance.”

Jamie made an amused Scottish noise.

“What?” Claire asked, looking up and seeing his grin. “Don't tell me you haven't thought about this.��

“Oh, I have. Countless times. How. Why. In the end, I stopped torturing myself and accepted the Sight as a part of me. I may no’ know the reason but I made the choice to help those that I could with my Gift.”

They both ignored the unsaid for as long as I could.

“Is that why you had the shop? To help people?”

Jamie sighed.

“Aye. I couldna stand the running anymore. I needed purpose.”

“I bet Murtagh was thrilled,” Claire replied, grinning.

Jamie snorted.

“I didna tell him, the first time. He walked in on me doing my ‘fortune telling’ to a bachelorette party. I had to tell the bride to mind her betrothed,” he said with a grimace. “I swear Murtagh’s beard fluffed up like an angry cheetie when he saw what I was up to.”

Claire shook with laughter, imagining all too well Murtagh’s response to such a scene.

“Good to see you've always been stubborn, then,” she teased, laying her head on his shoulder.

“Oh aye. Stubborn as rocks, we Frasers.”

Claire let out an amused noise, then they settled into silence again, listening to each other breathe.

“What’s it like?” she asked, squeezing his hand. “To See? How does it work?”

“Ye mean when I Look, what is it I do?”

“Yes. How it feels. What you See.”

She sat up, the diagnostic glint in her eye making Jamie smile.

"Clearly you have some control when you're awake. Raymond has me working to figure out how I make my Gift work. And mine occurs along side yours. Maybe the way you See is a clue to how I Heal."

"There's an idea," Jamie said, shifting himself up to sit more comfortably against the headboard.

"Aye well, yer right, I can control what I focus my visions on. In the beginning.."

Jamie paused at the memory of his first vision. He glanced at her, hesitant, and she squeezed his hand. Clearing his throat, he continued.

"In the beginning, they sort of… took over my senses. I was surrounded by whatever the vision was. I couldna pull myself out. I kent of the Fraser Gifts, of course but…”

He stopped, shrugging.

“I’m sure it's hard to grasp what it's truly like,” Claire said softly.

Jamie nodded.

“Aye. That still happens sometimes, when I sleep."

“Do you dream?” she asked. “Real dreams, I mean. Not visions”

Jamie furrowed his brow in thought.

“Ye ken, I’m no’ sure. I think so but… mostly, I see vague images. Not strong visions but… I suppose I’d say they're like dark shadows. Things I could See if I wanted, were I to move forward.”

“I used to,” he added looking down at her. “Then the side effects of my Gift began. No matter where or how the Gift originates, there are inevitable boundaries in science and magic.”

Claire shivered, feeling the gooseflesh rise on her arms. Jamie rubbed her arms and kissed her forehead.

“Aye, well. I was fortunate to have my family around me. To grow up knowin’ what could come and what to do. I’ve kept those lessons wi’ me.”

Claire watched as he pulled away and reached down, trying to pull something out from under the mattress.

“What have you got there?”

“Da taught Willie to keep a journal of the things he Saw, no matter when he had the visions. Willie was good at makin’ sure I did too.”

“I remember seeing dozens of journals in the library at Lallybroch.”

Jamie nodded, setting the worn leather book on the bed between them.

“This isna one o’ mine. It’s Willie’s, since mine are locked up safe at Lallybroch. Murtagh wanted to bring it wi’ us so he could be sure to find the right man.”

“Why write it all down? I would think visions of the future would be something you wouldn’t want on paper.”

“Weel, that’s a point, Sassenach. But there’s more to it than that. We keep them at Lallybroch for a reason.”

Claire wiggled until she sat in a comfortable position.

“What else is there?”

“It’s easier to talk and understand things when they’re written down. Willie and I… We used to share our journals all the time. There were visions I didn’t share wi’ him, like when I Saw him die. But we shared almost everything else.”

“Willie knew everything you Saw?”

Jamie nodded, opening the journal.

“Christ I’ve no’ looked at this in…” He took a breath and kept turning the pages. “He and Da would talk about what they Saw. Always write it down when it’s fresh, so ye dinna forget a bit. Taught us to never worry about what it means until later.”

“You must miss them,” Claire said, looking at the neat handwriting on the page.

“Aye. Verra much. I kent… I kent what would happen to Willie and…”

Jamie paused, swallowing as he flipped through the pages of the journal.

“Oh Jesus,” he said, nearly dropping the notebook when he reached the end.

“What is it?” Claire asked, worried at the expression on his face.

She leaned closer to see what he'd found. On the inside of the back flap near the binding was a small drawing. Jamie ran his thumb delicately over it, slowly following the curved form of the tiny etched snake.

“Sawney,” he whispered.

Claire touched his shoulder and he looked at her, eyes churning dark blue. His mouth curved a little as he looked at her.

“Sawney is a play on Alexander, Sassenach. It's what Willie used to call me. I could never say it right as a wee lad. I’d always say ‘Sssssawney’.”

Jamie chuckled.

“Willie used to poke fun and say I sounded like a wee snake,” he said quietly.

Claire smiled, kissing his shoulder as she looked down at the little drawing again.

“What's that?” Jamie asked, sounding surprised.

He bent the notebook outward, stretching the inner binding to reveal what looked like a small hidden pocket with a tab sticking out. He pulled carefully, extracting a piece of folded paper that was hidden there. “Sawney” was written on the outside.

“Jesus…” Jamie said blankly, hands shaking slightly.

Claire squeezed his arm in support. He looked at her in acknowledgment before unfolding the paper.

“Oh God,” he whispered, voice breaking.

The words on the page seemed to jump out at him as he scanned it frantically. These were truly Willie’s final thoughts. Memories of that day flitted through his mind, bringing the pain with them.

True to form, Willie did his best to set Jamie’s mind at ease from beyond the grave. For most of his life, Jamie had carried the guilt of Willie’s death. He’d never told anyone how much it had weighed on him, but Willie knew. So he’d done everything in his power to find a Healer for Jamie, someone who would be able to keep him alive.

One of the things Jamie regretted the most about Willie’s death was never saying goodbye. He’d Seen it happen, and still hadn’t been able to say what he wanted in time. But here, in his hand, were the words unsaid. Willie had said goodbye in his own way and given Jamie the closure he’d needed.

Willie did always ken what to say to me when I needed him, Jamie thought soberly. He was incredibly grateful to have Claire beside him; his new rock and shelter in this stormy life.

“Rest in peace, brother,” Jamie said softly, staring down at the page.

He splayed a hand over the letter, trembling fingers not quite touching the precise scrawl that adorned the pages. His breath caught and Claire immediately wrapped her arms around him, murmuring soft things and stroking his hair as he went quietly to pieces, letting the guilt and shame leave him after all of these years.

#outlander #outlander fanfic #red jamie and the white lady au #jamie x claire #takemeawaytocamelot #diversemediums #outlandishchridhe

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