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mymelodyheart · 3 years

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Miles Between Us Chapter 11 ~Suspicious Minds~

Picture Edit by melodyheart

Previously in The Art of Non-Communication ...

A familiar bright red Fiat slowed down next to them just as Jamie was about to get into the car, and Ian, their brother-in-law, poked his head out of the window. "Hey, lads, guess who I just saw back in town?"

The brothers looked at each other and shrugged.

When Ian stalled, Willie blew out an impatient breath.

"Out with it!" Willie grumbled. "I've been away from work for far too long already."

Ian grinned. "Yer pal Christie."

Jamie waved a hand in the air in dismissal and turned to open the car door, not particularly interested in hearing the latest coming and going in Broch Mordha. "I'm pretty sure the lassies will be thrilled he's back."

"Aye, ye're probably right, but I dinnae think ye'd be too pleased to hear if one particular lass is enjoying his company."

Jamie whipped around. "What do ye mean?" He sounded like someone just launched a flying rugby pass onto his stomach.

"Saw Claire and Tom through the window of Slater's Arms. Probably sitting down for late lunch."

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Claire hurriedly made her way to Slater's Arms to meet Tom Christie. They'd arranged earlier to meet at the pub after he'd dropped her off at the village centre to do her errands, so she was surprised to see him waiting outside. After exchanging a hurried cursory hello, he allowed him to guide her through the half-filled bar, his hand ever so lightly touching her elbow. They were greeted by a string of boisterous sallies from the locals, to which Tom good-humouredly responded with a couple of wisecracks of his own . It was becoming pretty clear they were in his local haunt and was well-liked by its patrons. But she also suspected there could be whispers going around, wondering what she was doing with him. Despite those thoughts, she kept her head up, and a smile plastered to her face.

After navigating through the narrow maze of tables and chairs, they opted for an empty space by the window, away from the bar where a heated football discussion was just about to begin. They simultaneously slid into their seats, sitting opposite each other, his lopsided grin and lax manner putting her immediately at ease. He was seemingly oblivious to the curious stares around them, but Claire paid no heed to the attention they were garnering and pushed her earlier encounter with Jenny away from her mind. This was a professional meeting, a welcome distraction even though it was proving an impossibility not to picture Jamie across from her. Suddenly missing Jamie, she allowed her thoughts to momentarily drift and wondered what he was up to.

"Hey."

Claire snapped out of her reverie. "Huh?"

"I asked if ye're hungry."

"Oh! Well, I'm not sure," she murmured, squinting at the specials scrawled on the blackboard hanging behind the bar. "Sort of, I guess."

"Sort of?" he laughed. "What kind of answer is that?" He passed her a menu. "Here. Ye ought to try their haggis tweeds. They have the best in this area."

She snorted, taking the menu card and skimming through it. "Really? I've never met a Scot who liked haggis, and yet every one of you lot I've met recommends it to non-locals."

"Aaahh," he leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. "To be honest, I dinnae like haggis myself when cooked the traditional way. But the haggis tweeds are different ...more palatable. They're rolled into balls, breaded and deep-fried. I'm quite sure ye'll like them."

"Hmmm ..." When she glanced up from the menu, she met his thoughtful gaze. Though smiling, he had an odd expression on his face. "Wot?" She smoothed her hair, thinking it must be all over the place. She dreaded what her hair looked like after being caught in the rain earlier on. She wished now she'd tied it back before leaving the cottage. "Anything wrong?"

Tom shrugged his shoulders. "Just noticing ye dinnae look as upbeat as ye sounded on the phone the first time we talked. I was expecting ye to be more excited about selling me the idea of publishing my travel book. Ye kinda look as if something is bothering ye. Is anything the matter?"

She let out an exhale and placed the menu down. "I'm sorry. I've just had a rough day."

"Boyfriend problem?" he asked slowly.

She arched an eyebrow at him. Friendly as Tom was, Claire wasn't prepared to share any details of her personal life. "I just have a lot of things going on, and then you threw me out of the loop," she explained, not wanting to lie but not wanting to over-share either. "I was caught off-guard when you phoned earlier, and I wasn't expecting your call until, at least, sometime next week."

"Ye could've told me to meet at a later date. I wouldnae have minded."

"No! Today is fine," she assured him quickly. "I'm probably slowly weaning from the fast pace of hectic schedules in London, that at the first sign of change, I stumble a bit."

He grinned. "Weel, whatever is bothering ye, I dinnae like you looking so downcast. Maybe we can do something about it right now and tell ye a bit of good news. To cheer ye up."

"I like good news ..." she remarked, perking up, guessing he probably had a new picture or post on his blog he wanted to show.

"That's much better," he said when he caught a hint of a smile forming on her face. "As I was saying, I have a bit of good news. I've been giving your proposition a lot of thought ..." he shifted on his seat and took a deep breath. "I've decided I want to go ahead and publish my travel blog in print."

She blinked and swallowed before finding her voice. "But you haven't seen the projected sale and all the ..."

He waved a hand. "I'm quite sure after that impressive pitch over the phone, yer projected whatever and other wotnots ye wish to go over with me will be just as equally convincing. The idea is sold, and I'm on board."

"Just like that?"

He nodded his head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Aye. Now that I've met ye in person, I'm pretty confident ye'll make sure I'll get a fair deal for my book. I'm a good judge of character, and I trust ye'll do what's right."

"Of course."

"So it's settled."

"Well, that's ...that's fabulous," she breathed, her mind rushing in all sorts of direction.

"This calls for a celebration, don't ye think?" he smiled, waving at the waitress.

Before Claire could reply, her purse vibrated. She pointed an index finger at Tom. "Hold that thought." She opened her bag and grabbed her phone. It was her boss, John Grey.

"Oh, hi, John! I'm in the middle of ..."

"Claire, I'm sorry to dump this on you," John said rapidly in a panicky tone. "Mary Hawkins just phoned and said she expects you to pick her up at Inverness Airport."

"Wot?!? But how? Why?" She glanced at Tom and noticed a light frown lining his brows. "She hasn't been answering any of my emails. What the hell is she doing in Inverness?" She knew it wasn't professional to be discussing another author over the phone with a potential client in front of her. But it couldn't be helped. At the moment, she was far too agitated to care. Mary Hawkins, the publishing's star author, had been elusive ever since she disappeared to France, and she'd been the reason Claire had decided to take a break in Scotland only to be given another job in the form of Tom Christie. "Please don't tell me you sent her here. I have enough on my plate as it is." She gave Tom an apologetic look, to which he just shrugged and smiled in understanding.

A frustrated sigh came from John. "I swear to God, this isn't my doing. She arrived yesterday here in London, and when she demanded to start work right away on her book, I assigned another editor. But she wouldn't have it. She insisted on working with you. So I told her you're in Inverness doing another project. And then she called a few minutes ago, demanding you pick her up at the airport. I swear I didn't know she was planning on flying to Inverness."

Oh, God! "John!" she whined. "I can't just drop everything and pick her up. I'm an editor, not a chauffeur! I'm in the middle of talks with Mr Christie."

"I'm terribly sorry for this mess, Claire but, isn't there anything you can do? Your boyfriend, perhaps? You know how Hawkins is a big deal for the company."

She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. Claire felt she was being put in a position she didn't want to be in. On top of it all, her uncle would be arriving in two days, and there was the added worry she had with Jamie and potentially Jenny. The day was definitely getting worse by the second, but Claire reminded herself she was John's only hope, and he was a friend and had always been good to her. When she finally had the strength to open her eyes again, Tom mouthed something she couldn't quite catch.

Wot do you mean? She mouthed back, shaking her head.

"Claire, are you still there?"

"Yes!" she snapped, tamping down the urge to curse. "I'm here!"

"Well?"

She let out a frustrated breath. There was no way out of it. "Fine, John! But you owe me big time! I'll see what I can do." Damn it!

"You're a star!" John said, relief lacing his voice. "I knew I could rely on you. I'll text Hawkins to let her know you're on your way, and then I'll text you her private number. I don't think you'll have that. It's one of the reasons you couldn't get in touch with her. Anyway, let me know later how you get on."

Before she could answer, the line went dead. What the bloody hell just happened?

Claire dropped her head into her hands and groaned. She wanted to bawl, throw stuff and pull her hair out in frustration.

"Problems?"

She raised her head and looked at Tom. "I'm sorry you had to witness that. I have to cancel our meeting. I need to somehow get to Inverness and pick up this author I'm working with." Without going into too many details, Claire quickly explained her predicament, almost forgetting to breathe. By the time she finished, she was gasping for air and wondering if Tom understood what the hell she was on about. "As you can see, I probably have to organise her accommodation as well. So I really must get going." She stood up and grabbed her bag. "Raincheck?"

He got on his feet as well. "Look, I'm not doing anything for the rest of the day. How about I drive you to Inverness. I can even help you set her up."

"Tom, you don't have to."

"Hey, I'm about to get a book deal from your boss. Let me at least prove to ye what a perfect travel guide I am as I've portrayed on my blog."

Claire stopped to collect herself. On second thoughts, she did need Tom's help, and she couldn't well impose on Willie to drive her to Inverness when he'd been taking time off to check up on her ever since Jamie left. Maybe she could kill two birds with one stone and talk him through his own book's publishing process on their way to the airport. It was a brilliant idea, and hopefully, by the end of today, John would be able to draw up a contract for Tom. With a resigned smile, Claire appreciatively accepted the offer. "Alright then, but we do need to get going now."

"Absolutely. We'll go through the back door." When Claire looked at him curiously, he grinned. "I've parked the car in the staffs' parking lot. I'm good friends with the owner, so I get the privilege to walk through the kitchen and use the backdoor," he explained. Then he leaned closer to her ear and spoke in a low voice. "And if the chef is in a good mood, he might allow us to taste today's menu."

Claire laughed out loud, attracting attention from the pub's clientele. She ignored the curious stares. It was good to laugh again after the last couple of days of feeling down, and she owed it to herself to steer negativity and worries from her thoughts. "We'll stop by the cottage to get some clothes. Knowing my client, she'll probably want to stay in a posh hotel in Inverness and want to start working right away. She doesn't do bed and breakfast or small places. So I doubt she'll want to come to Broch Mordha."

Tom nodded with a smile as he took her hand and lead the way.

Heading to the back of the pub, Claire made a few mental notes on what she needed to take with her. She also reminded herself to message Willie about taking care of Rollo and Adso while she's away, hoping he would think nothing of it when he hears from the village gossip of her meeting with Tom.

...........

Jamie caught Willie's livid expression before the car started, and they were driving down the small country lane. He knew his brother was miffed with Ian, who'd sped ahead of them after revealing Claire's whereabouts with Christie. Though common sense told him he had nothing to be worried about, it had been still a punch in the gut to hear Claire was out with another man.

"Can ye speed up a bit?" Jamie muttered, shifting restlessly on his seat.

"We're not in a bloody motorway, and there are speed limits for a reason," Willie growled, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel. "And it will do ye a lot of good to use this time to calm down before we reach Claire. It's obvious ye're not thinking clearly."

Jamie almost wished he'd taken a ride with Ian instead. They couldn't see their brother-in-law's red Fiat anymore as it disappeared at a bend further ahead. But he knew Willie was right. He wasn't thinking clearly. It's just that, why it had to be Thomas Christie of all people Claire had chosen to go out with. He had nothing against the bloke, but he was a renowned player. What if Claire had grown tired of his condition and fell for Christie's charms? It wouldn't be a difficult feat as the bloke oozed charms by the bucketload. Hadn't he lost a girlfriend in the past because of Christie? Or was it because of his condition? He couldn't be sure anymore. Either way, knowing Claire was with Christie at this very moment was burning a hole in his stomach. "So ye're an expert on my thoughts now, are ye?" Jamie grunted, unable to think of a better excuse for his behaviour.

"I dinnae need to be an expert to know what ye're thinking ... it's written all o'er yer face," Willie retorted. "If ye'd called her up in the first place, then ye would've had a fair idea why she's meeting Christie, and ye wouldnae be in this stinking shite thinking the worse. The lass has been worried sick about ye, and she's put up with yer silence more than what could be expected of her. So do both yerselves a favour and calm the fuck down, aye?"

Jamie knocked back the claustrophobic sensation and forced himself to breathe. This had always been his trouble with his PTSD. He always had these intense emotions that always grew out of proportion to a point it would suffocate him, especially negatives ones like a feeling of lacking or guilt. Wasn't that what Geneva had said? There was a lot of misplaced guilt involved? And no matter what he did to get better, it was a bloody never-ending cycle that always brought him back to square one. But despite the shortcomings, he knew it would kill him if he didn't give himself a fighting chance with Claire. He might as well die trying. She was, after all, either going to be his reason for living or the reason he died. It was all right there, shining in front of him like a floodlight.

With a sigh, he tried to relax. Jamie knew justifying his earlier behaviour was a bad idea in both their current edgy states, but nothing would stop him from seeing Claire right now. It was like a need that required satisfying, and he couldn't wait to finally see her. He focused on the road ahead of them and listened to the radio to take his mind of negative thoughts.

It's a dreich Thursday afternoon, and here's another trip down memory lane with Mac's Classics here at MFR, with the biggest hits and the biggest throwbacks. Next up is a song sure to make ye forget the dreary days ahead – Let's get rickrolling with Never Gonna Give You Up.

"Turn it up," Jamie said suddenly, surprising his brother.

"What?" Willie glanced at him like he'd grown a pair of horns.

"I said, turn the bloody volume up!"

"Ye're joking, right? Rick fucking Astley? Nae chance pal!"

"Just do it," Jamie huffed, not caring what his brother thought of his song choice. When Claire had told him it had made her smile listening to it in the cafe the other day, he'd listened to it as well on his mother's antique record player. It was a bloody awful song, but for some strange reason, it had made him smile too.

Scowling and cursing under his breath, Willie eventually complied, and they listened to Rick Astley's song for the rest of the way. When they reached the village centre, Willie illegally parked outside Slater's Arms, carefully avoiding bumping into the menacing bollards. They were just about to get out of the car when Ian appeared from the pub, shaking his head.

Willie stuck his head out of the window. "What's the matter?"

"They're gone," Ian replied, shrugging, perplexity evident in his expression. "Spoke to Angus, and he said they didn't even order anything. They just got up and left."

Jamie got out of the car. "Did he say where they went?"

Ian narrowed his gaze at him. "I didnae ask."

Jamie ran a hand in front of his face and got back in the car. His brother had to work. There was only one thing left he could do, and it was to go back to the cottage, and if Claire wasn't there, he'd give her a call. He turned to Willie, letting out a sigh of resignation. "Just drop me off at the cottage. I've taken too much of yer time already."

"Ye sure?" Willie asked quietly. "I can drop ye off at Lallybroch. Yer car is there. Ye'll most probably need it soon, especially with more bad weather to come."

Jamie shook his head. He was certain Claire would be at home, and if not, surely later. He wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon but had every intention of making up for lost time with her. "It's time to go home," Jamie sighed, waving goodbye to Ian. "No more running away,"

Willie smiled, starting the car. "Good choice!"

It was a short drive to his cottage, and by the time they pulled up outside his house, the sun started to peek out for a splinter of a moment, his driveway though occupied by an unfamiliar vehicle. As soon as he saw a man's profile sat on the driver's seat, he immediately knew it was Christie. As if anticipating his next move and before he could yank off his seatbelt, Willie slapped a hand across his chest.

"What?" Jamie wheezed.

"Claire's in the cottage. Talk to her first and find out what's going on before ye jump to any conclusions."

Jamie breathed through a laugh, but he could hear it was edged with doubt. "What if I've fucked this up?"

"Ye havenae. And it's up to ye to keep that way. Now go to her. Ye'll find out soon enough there's a perfect explanation for Christie hanging about."

Words were fighting to leave his tongue, but he clamped his lips together and held them back. Vocalising the feelings raging inside his chest would only allow his emotions to run away with him. He reigned them in and took a deep breath. Whether it's a consequence of PTSD or not, he couldn't expect Claire to understand every time. So instead, Jamie gave Willie a reassuring nod and hoped his brother was right.

He got out of the car and walked straight to the cottage, refusing to acknowledge Christie. He knew he was being rude and could feel his brother's eyes boring into his back as well as Christie's. He didn't care because right at this moment, his primary focus was Claire.

As soon as he opened the door and saw Claire hooking a bag onto her shoulder, he bounded across the room, dropping his face into her neck and breathing for the first time in days. "Sassenach," he whispered. "I'm so sorry for leaving ye. I wasnae thinking. Please forgive me."

Claire dropped her bag on the floor, wrapping both arms around his neck. "Jamie, you're here," she breathed into his ear. "Are you alright? God, I've been so worried about you."

"I'm alright now that I'm here and ye're here," he rasped, lifting his head for a moment and eyeing the bags on the floor. "Why are yer bags packed?"

She followed his gaze. "I ...ah ... it's work, and I have to ..."

"Ye're going back to London?"

"No!"

That's all he needed to hear. Unable to wait any longer for an explanation, he pulled her into his arms as urgency pumped in his veins. He badly needed to absorb as much as he could of her, breathing her in, in huge gulps of air. His mouth travelled over her neck, into her hair, across her lips, whispering for forgiveness, his hands restless as he touched her everywhere.

"Hey, look at me ... there's nothing to forgive," she murmured, drawing away. She placed her hands on both sides of his face and searched his eyes. "I understand what you've been going through, and I know you're fighting your hardest. It's going to be alright."

"I've missed ye." He turned his face to kiss her palm before placing her hand on his chest. "I-I thought ye're better off without me. I thought I could walk away from ye, and it would be enough knowing ye're safe from me. But nothing was right. I was sick to the soul, knowing I've left ye. I wanted ye to be with a better man than me, but now ... I'm gonnae be selfish and beg ye to let me be that man by yer side."

"Jamie, where's this coming from?" she queried. "I was worried and afraid for you, but I haven't changed my mind about us." She sighed. "Your brother told me yesterday, you were seeing a therapist this morning. Did you go today?"

Jamie swallowed and nodded, unable to still his hands, touching her everywhere, needing to assure himself he was really holding her.

"Is this why you're talking like this? Has the therapy dug up a lot of unwanted issues? Because if it has, it's perfectly normal."

"No!" He let out a frustrated breath. He'd been so unpredictable with the symptoms of his PTSD coming and going, she wasn't taking him seriously when he needed her to hear him out. "No, please listen and look me in the eye. I panicked when I saw the bruises on yer arms, and without thinking, I left. I did what I did because I didnae think I could ever be the man for ye ...a bloody disappointment, constantly causing ye grief. But I understand now why my condition is out of control at the moment ... it's because I have suppressed emotions that need to come out. It's been coming out more because all this while, ye've been the key to my healing. So I'm handing everything inside me over to ye because I trust ye, and ye're the only one who can make sense of me. I cannae promise smooth sailing, Sassenach, but there is one thing I know ye can depend on and will always be constant despite my condition. And that's my love for ye. I can guarantee ye with certainty ye can rely on that. This isnae a result of my therapy talking, alright? I willnae let ye go for anything. I can work around my condition with ye by my side, and I'll work twice as hard to get better."

"Jamie, I love you too, and I have no doubt that ..."

"Then why are your bags packed?" he questioned accusingly. "And why is Christie outside waiting for ye?"

With a sharp intake of breath, Claire quickly explained everything from the call she received from her boss to Christie's involvement and an impatient Mary Hawkins waiting for her at the airport.

He could tell she was itching to go by the way she tried to subtly glance at her watch, but he was feeling too selfish. "How about I drive ye to Inverness?" he cajoled, his hand stroking her hair. "Willie is still outside. We'll get my car in Lallybroch, and I'll drive ye." He suddenly felt like a bastard keeping her from doing her work.

"Jamie, no!" she said gently but firmly. He knew she was restraining herself from rushing off, wanting to make sure he was alright first. "I can't be fretting about you being in a city when I have work to do. There's a possibility I'll be back tonight, but if Mary wants to work straight away on her book, then I have to stay in Inverness for a couple of nights, tops. Besides, I need to explain to Tom about his book's publication and make sure he hasn't changed his mind. Until we've drawn up a contract, nothing is certain." Her hands smoothed the hard muscles on his chest. "Besides, I need you to be here when my uncle comes. He'll be hiring a car, so he won't require picking up."

"What? Ye're uncle is coming here?" he almost shouted.

"No. I mean, uncle Lamb won't be staying here in the cottage even though you told him he could. I've already booked him a place in the village centre ...close to the amenities."

He let out a sigh of relief. He didn't think he was ready to bond with Harry's look-alike ...yet. If anything, he dreaded it, afraid of other suppressed memories dying to come out and choke him with guilt.

"Jamie, I really ought to go. I promise I'll call later and explain everything."

With a groan, he pulled Claire in once more in his arms and kissed her thoroughly, and she responded with a whimper that told him she was enjoying the kiss. He hadn't even had a second to savour getting her back before the prospect of letting her go again struck him like a baseball bat between the shoulder blades. But he wanted to give her something to remember while she's away and what she'll be missing if she didn't hurry up with her work. He slipped his hand under her cardigan, caressing her nipple with the calloused pad of his thumb and pressing his burgeoning erection against her belly.

"I love ye ...always remember that." His mouth coasted along the lines of her jaw, his hands squeezing her waist. "I ken ye've been patient and understanding with me, but just try to be extra tolerant with me for now. Can ye do that?"

She nodded, her face red from beard burn. "Alright, but I do need to go, Jamie." Her eyes flashed. "And you have nothing to worry about. So please rest up tonight because you'll need a hell of a lot of energy when my uncle comes."

It's the way she looked at him, pleading for understanding that became his undoing as if she's reading his thoughts, and despite everything he'd done, she couldn't find fault with a single one. He needed to be a better man and control his emotions and needs. Her work was important to her, and she was important to him. "Fine, I'll walk ye to the car." He stooped down to get her bags and followed her outside.

They stopped beside Christie's car, and Jamie watched the other man climbed out, both men grunting a greeting at each other.

"Am I still driving ye to Inverness, Claire?" Christie asked, avoiding Jamie's eyes.

Claire nodded. "Yes, please, if that's still alright with you. I'm so sorry I took so long."

"It's nae bother, and of course, I'll drive ye to Inverness," Christie smiled warmly.

A long silence stretched as the three of them just stood there. Christie rocked on his heels, and Jamie held on to Claire's bags like it was his lifeline.

Caught up in the awkwardness of the moment, Claire bit her bottom lip. "Well, I guess that's settled then. We best get going before Mary does something like bite some poor soul's head at the airport." Claire's attempt to sound cheerful lessened the tension in the air but not the one on Jamie's shoulders. She turned to him and tried to take her bags off his hands, but he couldn't seem to let go. "Jamie ...my bags," she whispered, her hand running up and down his forearm as if to tell him everything was going to be alright.

But instead of giving Claire's bags back to her, he begrudgingly handed them to Christie while launching if looks could kill look over her head. They had a few seconds of stare off until Claire's hands on his face forced him to look at her.

"Jamie, kiss me, goodbye?"

He didn't hesitate at her request and sucked on her bottom lip as she made a sobbing noise. That wee noise she made jolted something free inside of him, and he, too, wanted to cry. He couldn't remember wanting to openly cry before. Not like this. He couldn't control it, and it dragged him down, stealing oxygen from his lungs, but Claire's touches soothed him.

"I don't want to go," she murmured against his mouth. "Not one bit. But I'm doing this for us, remember that. The sooner I'm done with work, the more time we can spend time together."

He allowed himself to wade into the shallow waters of comfort Claire was starting to represent. He'd lived with this reality for too long that he wasn't enough. Or probably worse, he was too much. For years, these memories of loss and guilt and shame had been subdued. Now they're coming out with guns blazing, and he felt totally defenceless. But with her arms around him, he felt cocooned in her bubble of protection. So he clung to her like a drunk with his last shot of whisky, the desperation inside him going into overdrive, and he was practically mauling her lips with no care whose watching, drawing her onto tiptoes so he could get all of her from every angle.

"Jamie," she whispered shakily, gently pulling away. "My phone is going off every second. Mary is probably wondering why I haven't called her."

Breathe, lad, it's going to be alright. Don't lose yer cool, or ye'll drive her away. He let go and opened the car door for her, not taking any notice of the man waiting patiently at the driver's seat. "I'm sorry," Jamie mumbled.

"It's alright." She smiled in understanding, squeezing his hand. "I'll be back before you know it."

He held on to Claire's eyes, the only tangible thing he could grasp, giving him a renewed determination to manage the condition that had ruled him all his life. At that moment, the world suddenly made sense, and he was veering into a place he didn't recognise ...a place of calm, where the voices in his head had lost their dominion over his thoughts.

He watched as Christie's Land Rover drove away and was surprised when a hand landed on his shoulder. Jamie turned around to discover Willie stood there, a smile etched on his face. Jamie had forgotten about his brother, too caught up with Claire's departure and the intense emotions he'd nearly let out of control.

"Ye did well, bràthair. I'm so proud of ye."

Jamie dropped his head forward and let out an exhale, feeling a lot lighter in days. He knew he'd only scratched the surface of their relationship, but Claire was giving him all the time in the world to get back on his feet, and he was determined not to disappoint her. Though it had been a struggle not to let his emotions take control, it was at least a start. He glanced up at his brother and smiled.

"Ye alright there, Jamie lad?" Willie playfully slapped him on the back for good measure.

"Aye, I think so." This time Jamie meant it and believed his own words. He threw an arm around Willie's shoulder, squeezed it briefly before stepping back. "And thank ye for sticking around. I owe ye one."

"Aye ye do," Willie grinned. "How about repaying me like right now and coming to work. It should keep yer mind busy and help me catch up with a long list of jobs."

Jamie didn't need prodding. His mouth curved into a smile, and he nodded his head. "After seeing Christie, I think I'm in the mood for uprooting trees."

They shared a wicked glance and then laughed out loud.

Dear Readers,

Thank you all for your patience with this story and the feedback from the previous chapter.

Mental health stories are, I personally think, the hardest to put across because it involves a lot of emotions and psychological battle that are difficult to put into words. But I was determined to write this account even though it has its challenges, so I hope I've done it justice.

Part of the reason for pushing to write such a story that delves into the mind of a tortured soul is to raise mental health awareness because there are many things that people still don't understand about this illness. In saying that, some of you were disappointed by Jamie's behaviour, and I wanted that to happen to make a point.

In real life, it's so much easier to categorise and point out someone's shortcoming instead of trying to understand the psyche of a person's behaviour. From my perspective, each of us has undoubtedly suffered a form of mental illness at least once, but not everyone has the emotional and psychological strength and maturity to cope or overcome it. Nor do they have access to help. In Jamie' case, he's got a strong network of family, and he got Claire to help him get through it.

So the moral of the story is, spread kindness because you never know what really is going on in someone's mind.

For now, take care of yourselves. Until the next update ... X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #ClaireBeauchamp/JamieFraser #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

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carly-they-jepsen · 4 years

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RWRB Timeline

I originally worked out the timeline for Sep. 27, 2020, and when people suggested I post it on tumblr, I said fuck it and did the whole book.

Go big or go home, right?

I have spent the past 3 days working on this. It’s half summaries of the events of the days in order, and half “here’s a one sentence summary of the day”.

Whenever possible, I’ve detailed out when things happen by the hour, like the day at Wimbledon, or the email leak day, including guesstimations on flight times, and what time EST and BST Alex is taking off and landing. I often forgot to add vague things like “morning” in, so sorry about that.

I’ve bolded all the dates I’m sure of.

Bold and italics means an official date: emails, text threads, tweets, holidays, Georgetown, etc.

Two asterisks ** = official dates.

Just bold means a day I’m sure of, based off of official dates: Two weeks later, day one post lake house, “a tuesday”, etc.

One asterisk: * = something I’m sure of based on official dates.

I’ve also bolded days of the week I’m sure of, even if I’m not certain of the date.

I’ve left a few things vague. Like, October 2020 is a lot of “sometime between these days, this happened”. Feel free to pick a day in that range to your heart’s content.

If you don’t like the day I picked for little things like Bea walking in on face time, or coming out to June, feel free to change it.

I didn’t bold everything I’m certain on, as I technically don’t have textual evidence to back it up. (Things like the wedding day, Alex and Henry’s texts at in the beginning, some things during the campaign.)

I’m 100% willing to answer questions on why I chose certain days, and any other questions or comments you may have!

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD

**Aug. 28, 2019 (Wed.) — Alex starts classes at Georgetown, Winter Semester 2019

Sep. 7-Sep. 8, 2019 (Sat.-Sun.) (p. 5-6) — Alex and June attend an event and listen to an hour and a half of speeches about carbon emissions. June is whisked away to a star studded gala. Alex shows up to the presidential suite with a bottle of champagne. Around 4 a.m. Alex leaves after fake hooking up with Nora.

Sep. 12, 2019 (Th.) (p. 3-8) — June and Alex go over the tabloids. Alex has been working on a research paper all week

Sep. 13, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 8-12) — The US crew flies to London.

6 a.m. EST: Take off.

5 p.m. BST: Land in London. (Wiggle the take off time to your heart’s content. Flight is around 6 hours give or take for Air Force 1, plus time to and from the airport, plus the time change. The flight time is “11 hours” with the time change if that helps you calculate the landing time in London.) They potentially have 1-2 appearances that evening.

Sep. 14, 2019 (Sat.) (p. 12-20) — The royal wedding. The US crew has 1-2 appearances before arriving at the ceremony. The ceremony happens. Reception happens at a Buckingham ballroom. The White House Trio chats, Henry dances with June. Alex finds Henry hovering by the champagne fountain and they argue. Alex trips over his own foot and crashes into the $75k wedding cake, pulling Henry down with him.

Sep. 16, 2019 (Mon.) (p. 21-27) — Alex gets chewed out over the Incident by Zahra and the President in a White House briefing room. He gets told he will be leaving Saturday to make nice with Henry in England.

Sometime between Mon. Sep. 16 and Fri. Sep. 20, 2019 (p. 27-32) — Alex, Nora, and June meet in the Whitehouse and go over the HRH Prince Henry Fact Sheet. Alex bemoans the fact that he just finished his midterms.

Sep. 21, 2019 (Sat.) (p. 32-37) — Alex leaves in the early a.m. EST and arrives late afternoon/early evening in London. (11-12 hour difference in takeoff time to landing time. Note, this is just DC to Lon., not the other way round.). Meets Henry at the stable and a royal photographer takes pictures.

Sep. 22, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 37-53) — 12:00 a.m.: Alex is wide awake and goes into the kitchen for a snack. Henry stumbles in, and Alex posts a photo of them with their ice cream on Instagram.

9 a.m.: Interview with The Morning.

Afternoon meeting with cancer patients. Alex and Henry spend some time in the closet chatting after fireworks are mistaken for gunshots. Before his flight home, Alex puts his number in Henry’s phone. Likely lands around 7-8 p.m. EST.

Sep. 27, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 54-61) — Alex has a lecture on presidential sex scandals. Texts Nora about the probability of one of them having a sex scandal by the end of the second term and she replies with 94% and a link to a gifset of Henry and Alex at The Morning where someone has commented “omfg make out already”. Alex meets with Rafael Luna after his class.

Sometime between Sep. 27, 2019 (Fri.) and Oct. 6, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 61-68) — June, Alex, Leo, and Ellen have dinner together. June texts Alex to have dinner and he forgets to respond until 1.5 hours later when Ellen texts about family dinner. She offers them jobs in the campaign and June turns it down the next morning.

Oct. 9, 2019 (Wed.) (p. 68) — Henry texts Alex while Alex is in a policy lecture. His opening line is “this bloke looks like you” with a picture of the Ewok Chief Chirpa from Return of the Jedi.

Oct. 16, 2019 (Wed.) (p. 68-69) — Alex finally responds a week later after seeing a headline on the cover of People about Henry in Australia with a photo of him in a pair of minuscule navy swim trunks. “you have a lot of moles. is that a result of the inbreeding?

Oct. 18, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 69) — Henry texts Alex a screenshot of a Daily Mail tweet that says “Is Alex Claremont-Diaz going to be a father?” with the caption “But we were ever so careful, dear.” Henry texts Alex a screenshot of a Daily Mail tweet that says “Is Alex Claremont-Diaz going to be a father?” with the caption “But we were ever so careful, dear.” Alex gets ejected from Zahra’s weekly debriefing meeting with him and June.

Oct. 19-Oct. 28, 2019 (Sat.-Mon.) (p. 69-71) — Henry and Alex text regularly on a variety of topics including family, friends, beer, boats, and Hogwarts houses.

**Oct. 29, 2019 (Tue.) (p. 71-72) — Henry texts Alex about being in a meeting with Philip. Later that night Alex replies, asking what the meeting was about.

**Oct. 30, 2019 (Wed.) (p. 73) — 1:07 p.m. EST Henry and Alex text about Henry’s grey tie in his instagram post.

**Nov. 17, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 74) — 11:04 a.m. EST: Henry receives a box of Ellen Claremont campaign buttons with Alex’s face on them. Sniffer dogs were nearly called after the security theme thought it was a bomb. Alex and Henry text about it.

**Nov. 25, 2019 (Mon.) (p. 75-84) — Alex finds out that the turkeys his mom will be pardoning have been staying in the Willard Hotel on taxpayers dime. He convinces her to put them in his room.

10 p.m. EST/3 a.m. GMT: Alex regrets his decisions. He calls Henry to prove they’re as terrifying as Alex claims and they have a long conversation about the turkeys, Henry’s pets, and how Henry surprises Alex.

**Dec. 8, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 84) — 8:53 p.m. EST: Alex texts Henry about a Bond marathon happening on TV. He asks if Henry knows his dad was a total babe, which Henry replies with “I BEG YOU NOT”

*Dec. 20, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 84-85) — Ellen reads an article in the Post with the headline “Senator Oscar Diaz Returns to DC For Holidays With Ex-Wife President Claremont”. She continues to stress about decorations in the Lincoln Bedroom for Oscar.

*Dec. 21, 2019 (Sat.) (p. 85) — Oscar Diaz arrives at the White House. June nearly breaks a vase launching herself into his arms. Oscar and June disappear to the chocolate shop on the ground floor.

*Dec. 22, 2019 (Sun.) (p. 85-86) — Oscar and Alex bond over a cigar on the Truman Balcony.

*Dec. 23, 2019 (Mon.) (p. 87) — Alex catches Oscar in the kitchens with two of the cooks, laughing and dumping peppers into a pot.

*Dec. 21-23, 2019 (Sat.-Mon.) (p. 86-87) — Alex wishes it could be like this more often and misses having everyone under one roof.

**Dec. 24, 2019 (Tue.) (p. 87-95) — Christmas dinner is held on Christmas Eve so Zahra can still attend. Zahra wears a sensible red turtleneck. Alex wears a sweater covered in bright green tinsel. ‘O Christmas Tree” plays out of a speaker near his armpit when he presses a button on the inside of his sleeve. Dinner conversation moves to the election. Oscar and Ellen argue. Alex loses his temper and leaves.

9:30 p.m. EST/2:30 a.m. GMT: Alex changes into an old lacrosse shirt and calls Henry. Henry is wearing candy cane pjs. Alex tells Henry about the divorce and what happened at dinner and only realizes he’s been talking for an hour when henry says “It sounds like you did your best.) June knocks on the door and Alex hangs up after thanking Henry and wishing him a Merry Christmas.

10:30 p.m.: June and Alex talk about what happened after Alex left and then Alex tells her he was talking to Henry, not Nora.

**Dec. 26, 2019 (Th.) (p. 95-97) — Alex spends the day going over waivers for the “Legendary Balls Out Bananas White House Trio New Year’s Eve Party” aka “The Young America New Year’s Eve Gala” aka “The Millennial Correspondents Dinner”.

Dec. 27, 2019 (Fri.) (p. 96-97) — Alex discovers Henry is coming to the party and bringing Pez when he glances at the final guest list while the Trio are looking at confetti samples and eating cake samples.

**Dec. 31, 2019 (Tue.) (p. 97-103) — Pez posts a picture of him and Henry on a private jet headed to DC with the caption “USA bound! #YoungAmericaGala2019” Pez has dyed his hair pastel pink, and Henry is wearing a grey sweatshirt. Alex texts Henry that he will be wearing a burgundy suit and warns Henry to not attempt to outshine Alex, as he will fail and Alex will be embarrassed for him. Henry replies “Wouldn’t dream of it”. After that the Trio begins getting ready. Nora’s short curls are swept to the side with a matching silver pin to the geometric designs on the bodice of her black dress. June’s gown is midnight blue and perfectly compliments the navy-and-gold color palette they chose for the party.

8 p.m.: Guests begin to arrive. The first wave includes some White House interns, and the daughter of a first time Senator and her girlfriend. The second wave is the politically strategic invites chosen by the press team, and finally the fashionably late, including Minor to mid-range popstars and the children of major celebrities.

Pez and Henry show up. Pez is in a colorful floral print shiny silk bomber jacket. Henry is wearing a simple dark blue suit with a bright coppery-mustard tie in a narrow cut. Alex realizes this is the first time they’ve seen each other in person since their weekend in London and feels like he’s meeting a new person.

There's dancing and mingling, and June makes a speech about the immigration fund they’re supporting with their donations. June and Henry talk at the bar.

The live band breaks and the DJ takes over. Alex finds out Henry hasn’t ever dry humped to “Get Low”. There’s more dancing and crowd pleasers until midnight.

11:59 p.m.: They huddle together for the countdown.

**Jan. 1, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 103-108) — 12:00 a.m. Nora kisses Alex

Alex loses track of things. Alex goes looking for Henry. He eventually finds him under a tree. They talk. Henry is vague and Alex is dummy thicc. Henry calls Alex thick and kisses him. Henry pulls away and disappears from the party.

*Jan. 1-Jan. 4, 2020 (Th.-Sat.) (p. 109) — Alex tries listening in on his mom’s meeting as a distraction but can’t pay attention. Zahra bans him from the West Wing.

*Jan. 5-Jan 7, 2020 (Sun.-Tue.) (p. 109) — Alex studies bills going through Congress and considers making the rounds at the Senate or starting a rumor with Nora, but he has no enthusiasm.

**Jan. 8, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 109) — Alex begins his final semester at Georgetown.

*Jan. 9-Jan. 14, 2020 (Th.-Tue.) (p. 109) — Alex throws himself into classwork, meets with the social secretary to plan his graduation dinner. Henry doesn’t answer his texts.

*Jan. 15, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 110-114) — June is fed up with Alex’s pacing and takes him out for a run. Alex does some introspection. Alex tells his mom he wants to start his campaign job now, instead of waiting until he graduates.

*Jan. 20, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 115) — Alex starts his new job at the campaign offices.

*Jan. 20-Jan. 25, 2020 (Mon.-Fri.) (p. 115-116) — Alex puts 23 hours into his new job and Definitely Does Not Think About Henry.

*Sometime between Jan. 25 and Jan 29, 2020 (Fri.-Wed.) (p. 116-122) — Alex comes out to Nora and tells her about Henry.

*Jan. 30, 2020 (Th.) (p. 122-127) — Alex rushes from work to his lecture and review and returns to the White House in a bad mood. June has the week’s tabloids. Alex freaks out at the idea that Henry is going on a date with a girl. Alex finally realizes he’s not straight. Alex calls Liam.

*Jan. 31, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 128-146) — The state dinner. There's a hot makeout session and Alexander Hamilton watches.

10:48 p.m.: Alex paces around his room.

10:54 p.m. Henry arrives at Alex’s rooms

*Feb. 1, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 122) — Alex has a campaign event in Nebraska

Feb. 13, 2020 (Th.) (p. 146-147) — Henry informs Alex of a charity polo match in Greenwich, Connecticut. That evening, June asks why he’s bailing on the fund-raiser he’s meant to be at

**Feb. 15, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 147-152) — The polo match. Alex spends 4.5 hours driving up, stays for 3 hours, and then drives 4.5 hours back.

**March 3, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 152) — 7:32 p.m. EST: Alex sends Henry an email asking if he will be in Paris for a fundraiser that weekend.

**March 4, 2020, (Wed.) (p. 152-156) — 2:14 a.m.-2:43 a.m.: Henry replies, and eventually concedes after a brief back and forth.

*March 7-8, 2020 (Sat.-Sun.) (p. 157-158) — Henry and Alex have a clandestine hookup in Paris and spend the night together.

*March 8, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 158) — Zahra texts Alex a screenshot of a buzzfeed article about him and Henry.

*March 9-March 27, 2020 (Mon.-Fri.) (p. 158-159) — Alex and Henry continue to text.

Sometime between March 23 and 26, 2020 (Mon.-Th.) (p. 159) — Alex tells Henry about a voter drive he will be attending in NYC at the end of March and Henry re-schedules his visit to NYC for that weekend.

*March 27, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 159) — Alex and Henry celebrate their birthdays with champagne and a buttercream cupcake.

April 1, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 159) — Alex convinces Henry to download Snapchat.

April 4, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 159) — Henry sends a snap of him on a sailboat.

April 5, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 182) — Bea walks in on an after-dark FaceTime session.

April 9, 2020 (Th.) (p. 160) — Henry is right that Remus John Lupin is gay as the day is long and won’t hear a word against it.

April 10, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 161) — June notices the photo of the man with AIDS protesting pinned over Alex’s desk

*April 11, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 162) — Henry and Alex meet at a gala in Berlin. Alex ties Henry’s wrists to the bedpost.

*April 13, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 162-163) — Zahra notices the hickeys on Alex’s neck at the weekly briefing.

*April 25, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 163-173) — Someone paints “Powder Princess” on the side of Bea’s car. Late afternoon EST: Henry and Alex have a phone call largely centered around family.

April 30, 2020 (Th.) (p. 173-182) — 9:44 p.m.: Alex redraws districts in Texas and misses dinner with June. After getting back to the Residence, June reveals she’s known about Alex and Henry the whole time.

*May 2, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 183-185) — 4 a.m. EST/9 a.m. BST: Alex FaceTimes Henry and Pez at Llwynywermod.

**May 1-9, 2020 (Fri.-Sat.) (p. 185) — Georgetown finals week

**May 15, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 186-189) — Alex graduates summa cum laude from Georgetown. Jacinto drops out, making Richards the official Republican nominee. Alex eavesdrops on a conversation between Rafael Luna and Oscar Diaz.

Sometime between May 16 and May 22, 2020 (Sat.-Fri.) (p. 189) — Henry invites the Trio to a fund-raiser in LA the next weekend.

*May 30, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 189-200) — Alex gets lunch with his dad, who changes the subject every time Alex brings up the conversation with Luba. Alex attends the fund-raiser in LA followed by partying. Henry and Alex fuck.

*May 31, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 200-201) — 7:00 a.m.: Alex and Henry wake up. June, Nora, and Pez are heavily implied to have had a threesome. Alex realizes he has friends now.

**June 8, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 202-206) — 3:23 p.m.-7:21 p.m. EST: Henry and Alex exchange emails.

**June 13, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 207) — Alex misses his first DC pride while in Nevada. He “talks to his minibar about it”

*June 20, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 207) — Houston rally at Minute Maid Park.

*June 22, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 207-210) — Alex argues with WASPy Hunter about Texas. Alex looks up LSAT testing centers in DC.

*June 23, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 210-213) — Alex texts the groupchat “3 Geniuses and Alex” with Nora, Bea, and Henry asking where his speech for Milwaukee is.

Sometime between June 24 and July 3, 2020 (Wed.-Fri.) (p. 213) — Alex receives an invitation to Wimbledon

*July 5, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 213) — 10:20 p.m. EST: Alex takes off from DC for London.

**July 6, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 213-221) — Alex spends his one day off from the campaign at Wimbledon with Henry.

10:35 a.m. BST: Alex lands in London.

11:30 a.m.: Alex makes it through customs and Henry and Shaan pick him up at the airport.

12:30 p.m.: Arrival at Wimbledon

1:00 p.m.: The first game at Central Court begins

4:00 p.m.: Philip and Martha show up. Philip is an idiot that says “Morning”. Bea, like a smart person, says “Afternoon”. Henry and Philip argue, and Henry runs off.

4:10 p.m.: Alex finds Henry in the clubhouse

4:12 p.m.: Henry “shows Alex round the clubhouse”. Alex and Henry cum for the first time

After that they go to Kensington. Henry plays the piano for a while. They make out for what could be hours. They move to Henry’s room where Henry, at least, cums for the second time that day. Alex spends almost an hour making Henry cum for a third time. After that, Henry asks Alex to fuck him again, where Henry cums for the fourth time that day, and Alex cums for at least the second time, possibly a third time.

Alex takes hours to sleep.

*July 7, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 221-222) — 9:00 a.m. BST: Alex flies home to DC and lands around 9:10 a.m. EST for DNC prep.

The Richards campaign leaks they’ve tapped an independant.

*July 9, 2020 (Th.) (p. 222) — Claremont campaign releases the official platform.

*July 11, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 221-222) — Richards holds a rally at Vanderbilt University.

**July 14, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 223-224) — The gang flies to NYC on the evening of the second day of the DNC.

9:00 p.m.: The Richards campaign announces that the Independent senator joining Richards’s cabinet is Rafael Luna.

9:15 p.m.: Air Force One lands and the White House crew goes into crisis management meetings. Alex texts Luna “What the fuck”

11:00 p.m.: Luna responds “I don’t expect you to understand”.

*July 15, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 224-234) — 12:00 a.m.: Alex and June leave meetings and get harassed by a Post reporter. June goes to bed, and Alex goes to the bar where he meets Henry. They retire to Alex’s room.

6:45 a.m.: Zahra wakes Alex (and Henry) up, and discovers their relationship.

July 20, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 235-239) — 1:00 p.m.: Alex comes out to his mother.

2:00 p.m. — Ellen gives a PowerPoint presentation, then makes Alex do paperwork and kicks him off the campaign.

**Aug. 10, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 239-247) 1:04 a.m.-8:22 p.m. EST — Henry and Alex exchange emails about the complex nature of their relationship, and Alex extends an invite to the lake house.

*Aug. 22, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 247-257) — Day one of the lake house. The Trio arrive earlier, possibly on Friday. Early morning: They gas up the car before taking it to the hangar to pick up Henry in Austin. 1.5 hours — The drive to the lake. They arrive, Oscar welcomes everyone. Alex barbecues ribs. They spend the evening after dinner singing and playing guitar. Alex and Henry sleep in separate bunks

*Aug. 23, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 257-264) — Day two of the lake house. Alex makes breakfast. In the afternoon, Henry talks to Oscar about boats and outboard motors. They swim. That night, Henry and Alex go skinny dipping

*Aug. 24, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 264-265) — Alex wakes up to find that Henry has left.

*Aug. 25, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 266, 267) — Alex sends five texts to Henry. He also paces on the roof of the residence and wrecks his heels.

*Aug. 26, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 266) — Alex sends two texts to Henry.

*Aug. 27, 2020 (Thu.) (p. 266) — Alex sends no texts to Henry.

*Aug. 28, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 266) — Alex trains himself to check his phone after two hours instead of one.

Sometime between Aug. 25-28 (Tue.-Fri.) (p. 267) — Alex’s Claremont for America mug is smashed in the sink. 2.5 different dreams of Henry’s hair. An email is drafted and deleted.

*Aug. 29, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 267) — Luna makes his fifth campaign stop for Richards. Alex breaks his phone screen and it is replaced by the end of the day.

*Aug. 31, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 267-276) — Alex finds the note Henry left in the pocket of his kimono and smashes his phone.

5:45 a.m. EST/10 a.m. BST: Alex buys first class nonstop tickets for him and Cash and sends Cash a text.

7:45 a.m./12:45 p.m.: Alex and Cash’s flight begins boarding

8:00 a.m./1:00 p.m.: Alex and Cash’s flight leaves Dulles for London. Alex calls Zahra on the runways and asks her to call them a car in London

3:15 p.m./8:15 p.m.: The plane lands and they leave for Kensington

4:00 p.m./9:00 p.m.: They arrive in Kensington.

*Sep. 1, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 276-284) — Henry goes for a run. Philip eats plain toast. They have a conversation in the kitchen. Alex wakes up alone. Henry brings Alex coffee. They spend the day together.

**Sep. 2, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 284-293) — 2:00 a.m.: Henry and Alex sneak out and explore the V&A.

5:00 a.m. EST/10:00 a.m. BST: Alex and Cash’s plane departs from Heathrow to Dulles.

3:00 p.m. EST/8:00 p.m. BST: Alex arrives back home.

5:12 p.m. EST: Alex emails Henry to say he arrived back home

**Sep. 3, 2020 (Th.) (p. 294-297) — 2:49 a.m. EST: Henry replies, mentions he’s considering coming out to Philip and he may have to enlist.

6:20 a.m. EST: Alex responds, worried that Henry might have to enlist. He is supportive of Henry coming out.

**Sep. 4, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 297-304) — 7:58 p.m. EST: Henry says he came out to Philip and talks about putting memories into rooms.

8:31 p.m. EST: Alex responds and sends Henry an incomplete list.

Sep. 14, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 305-310) — Zahra shows up with a diamond ring at the breakfast weekly brief. Footage of Henry and Alex at the DNC is leaked. June posts a photo of her and Henry on instagram and it spreads within hours.

Alex takes Nora on a fake date as Henry flies to DC. Henry lands in the middle of the night.

Sep. 15, 2020 (Tue.) (310-313) — June lets Alex into her SUV in the morning on the way to her fake date with Henry. After an hour at the cafe, Henry and Alex meet in the SUV and kiss. They don’t notice when someone takes pictures

*Sep. 24, 2020 (Th.) (p. 314-318) — Alex meets with Luna and comes out to him. He returns to the residence, attempts to call Henry, and then gets drunk.

**Sep. 25, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 319-321) — 3:21 a.m. EST/8:21 a.m. BST: Alex sends a drunk email.

6:07 a.m./11:07 a.m.: Henry replies.

**Sep. 27, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 321-344) — Email Leak Day

3 a.m. EST/8 a.m. BST: News breaks.

3:23 a.m./8:23 a.m. Zahra wakes Alex up and puts him on communications lockdown. Alex meets with his mom.

6:00 a.m./11:00 a.m.: Philip arrives at Kensington

8:00 a.m./3:00 p.m.: Alex gets out of meetings, starts napping

1:00 p.m./6:00 p.m.: Zahra tells Alex to pack a bag

7:00 p.m./12:00: They arrive at Kensington

11:00 p.m./4:00 a.m.: Alex finally climbs into bed next to Henry.

*Sep. 28, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 344-358) — Philip shows up at Kensington, hair uncombed and suit askew. Philip yells at them in the kitchen about breaking the communication embargo. Henry leaves, and Alex follows and leaves Philip red in the kitchen.

6:00 a.m./11:00 a.m.: They meet with the queen.

Alex takes a photo of a mural and posts it on Twitter on his way to the airplane

**Sep. 29, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 358-367) — 9:15 p.m. Jezebel tweets about DC Dykes on Bikes chasing Westboro Baptist protesters down Pennsylvania Ave.

Alex gets back to DC. Nora comes busting in with proof.

*Sep. 30, 2020 (Wed.) (p. 367-370) — The White House leaks proof of the Richarads campaign stalking, surveilling, hacking, and outing Alex. Rafael Luna announces on twitter he has left the campaign. The podcast Bills, Bills, Bills, records an episode about it.

**Oct. 2, 2020 (Fri.) (p. 370-383) — In the morning, Alex gives his speech, which June wrote. Henry is there to support him. They make out for like 45-55 minutes before the speech. Jeffrey Richards goes on CNN. Alex sees Luna in his office. Luna tells Alex about his past with Richards.

*Oct. 3, 2020 (Sat.) (p. 375) — A crowd at the Mall. Cash, Amy, and Amy’s wife are there.

*Oct. 4, 2020 (Sun.) (p. 383-385, 409) — 7:32 a.m.: The boys wake up.

9:30 a.m.: Henry leaves back to England.

Alex goes back to the campaign trail. Liam calls.

*Oct. 4-10, 2020 (Sun.-Sat.) (p. 389) — The crown makes decisions about what to do about the emails: re Bea's addiction reveal, and Henry enlisting.

Sometime between Oct. 11-17, 2020 (Sun.-Sat.) (p. 391) — Philip has a falling out with the queen and apologizes to Henry and Bea.

Sometime between Oct. 25-31, 2020 (Sun.-Sat.) (p. 386-392) — The photoshoot in Hyde park.

*Nov. 2, 2020 (Mon.) (p. 393-399) — Day before election day. Alex struggles to pick a tie. June gets a book deal. The Trio falls asleep in the bed together.

**Nov. 3, 2020 (Tue.) (p. 400-418) — Election day

Alex votes.

6:00 p.m.: The Trio arrives at the election night event.

6:37 p.m. Henry texts Alex about plane troubles.

7:32 p.m.: Oliver Westbrook from Bills, Bills, Bills tweets about GOPers backing Richards even after everything that’s happened.

8:04 p.m.: 538 politics tweets that they’re confused about Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin being too close to call.

9:15 p.m.: NYT tweets that Claremont is at 178 and Richards is at 113

9:30 p.m.: Ellen worries about losing and asks June to write a concession speech. June refuses. Alex makes a speech. Henry finally arrives.

10:30 p.m.: Richards takes Iowa, Utah, and Montana. Claremont gets California’s 55 electoral votes.

12:00 a.m.: Claremont has the lead. Alex runs into Liam. Florida and Nevada go red.

12:30 a.m.: Texas goes blue.

1:00 a.m.: Alex unlocks the door with the key around his neck.

#rwrb #rwarb #rwrb spoilers #rwrb timeline #alex claremont diaz #prince henry of wales #this is exactly 5k #meta #i guess #long post

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ellamellaisnotokay-blog · 5 years

Text

I can’t believe I am doing this

So, hello everyone. This is basically my first post here and besides that is my first tumblr account :( Please welcome this brat. I decided to write a BTS fanfic and I’ll reveal the main character among the boys in a few chapters. So, this will be a loooonnng story that will haunt you for years. Kidding, I’ll try to keep it as funny as I can, because I like it that way. I hope my story will entertain you and be a good way to kill your spare time. I am gonna keep it a bit different than what I have read so far. Not gonna lie, I read some good stories though. Well, let’s begin.

“Good morning to me.” said I, looking at the mirror with a blank face. I am completely fucked up and though I look like I had the craziest weekend full of alcohol and handsome boys, I did not. All I had is this headache due to my shitty sleeping schedule. It may sound like I couldn’t get sleep because of classes or homeworks or whatever but it is all because of oversleeping. This is how shitty I am. This trash can under my table can literally do better than I do. Right trash can?

To check whether I had the craziest weekend but I can’t recall it due to my hangover, I took a step back to check my bed and it was empty. This poor bed has not met any stranger yet. An everytime I lay on it, I hear it talking to me, telling me that I am a lonely potato and will be a sister who dedicates herself to God until the end of time. And I tell him that he shouldn’t judge people like that, what’s wrong with being a sister? They are sweet and they have those kinda gothic clothes that make them cool as fuck. But he (my bed) has the ugliest sheets that I have been using for years. Yeah, good guess, Barbie sheets. But I have washed it probably a million times so Barbie’s mouth just vanished and it looks creepy as fuck.

My phone buzzed and my poor heart skipped a beat because I thought I finally got the e-mail I have been waiting for ages but turns out it is just my credit card receipt. “I said I am gonna pay it, Jesus.” I immediately deleted the mail and locked my phone.

I took a bus to go to work. Yes, I am working for that company that you have been dying to work for ;) Can you imagine how cool it is to work for Bighit and get to see those guys every day of your life. I can’t. Because those are never happening. First, I started last week. And until now, I haven’t seen anyone except a beautiful girl whose task is to do make up. Oh, and there’s this lady whose age is about 30 and she is also a make up artist. About me? Well, I sweep floors and the second I turn around, they come to me like “Hey, could you sweep there again? Boys have just finished practicing.”.

OKAY, I can. I should. I must. But how is it I never get to see those BOYS although I always hang out around them?? Like they are invisible because they are way too handsome for me and God just did a favor to me to not to catch feelings? Dear God, please just for once.........

It sounds like I am obsessed with boys but I am indeed. I love to see handsome people and nobody can blame me. I haven’t had regular relationships though. My last kinda relationship ended two years ago because I found out that I was his fifth girlfriend. Not like that,he had six girlfriends at the same time. And I was the fifth one. So I found the sixth one and I was like “Girl, obviously I did better, that is why I am the fifth and you are the sixth but it’s okay, let me buy you a movie ticket.” And we had a pretty good evening. She happened to be my bestie then.

Well, it all happened two years ago when we were living in London. I was born in Birmingham and raised in London. But I am originally from Ireland. We have lived in various places around the world during my childhood due to my father’s job but he passed away and my mother changed so much after his death. We buried him somewhere in London and that was when I thought that London is a bitch and I better go away. When I first came to Korea, it was all peace and quiet and it still is but I miss my best friend so damn much. She says she’ll move here but she is a fucking liar so I don’t expect anything better than my current situation.

While I was drawning into my thoughts, a very handsome boy stepped in the room I was sitting and without even asking, took my mug from my hand. I looked at him, he was similing. “Would you like one more cup of coffee? With or without milk?”

That is it bitches. This guy is in my bed in a week, lying on my barbie sheets and there is nothing you can do about it. He is probably from a famous band that everybody’s dying for. Ha ha, I am winning this time. Yet, I do not recall him from anywhere, is he from BTS? He is probably Jungkook. Yes, he is! Oh my God, look at his tights, I think I am having a massive heart attack. Wait, he also might be Yoongi? Oh no no, he is too long to be him. But how can I know, I have never seen them although we have been in the same building for a damn week.

“Without milk please. Thank you.” said I was smiling as much sweet as I can. He kept smiling and his fucking fingers touched mine. When he is gone for a second, I reached my phone and texted my fucking best friend. “One of the boys just took my mug to get me coffee. I am 100% sure it is Jungkook. I am gonna be rich as fuck, can you hear me?”

When he is back, I almost put my phone into my asshole due to my astonishment. While he was handing my mug, I tried to prevent my hands from shaking but it was impossible. I thanked him and assumed that he’d be gone soon to practice again but I recognized the other cup on the table. That is it bitches, he came to chatter with me and when it is over, we’ll directly go to the register office to start Jeon family.

“I am Daryl, by the way.” He reached for my hand to shake hands but I literally wanted to cut it off as he did so. He quickly recognised the vacant stares of mine and laughed. “Of course, it’s not my Korean name. I gave you the other as you’re a foreigner.”

“Can’t you see that I am fluent in Korean as well?”

“Well, I do but...”

“What then? Daryl? You think it’s funny? To lie people?”

“It’s not a lie. Oh my God, how could I possibly lie to you?”

“Like this. You think I cannot pronounce your name? I am speaking in Korean. I know how to speak Korean. I know how to pronounce words in Korean, including your name, D A R Y L.”

As my phone kept buzzing, I had to pick it from my asshole to see who has been calling me that vigorously. Ah, sure, I told myself. My stupid best friend who believed this stupid girl who is sitting with Jeon Jungkook v2.0.

“Yes honey.” I accepted the call and immediately ran out of the room. I started walking through the hallway while looking at the pictures of those boys taken in some part of heaven. Then I came across with a picture of Jungkook on the wall, he looked so happy in the picture. He was alone and his arms disappeared in the oversized sweatshirt he was wearing. I sighed and tried my best not to laugh at myself. It was when I realized that my best friend’s curiosity was growing and she was about to come here just to kick my ass.

“I’ll give you the details in 2 hours darling.”

“No, you will not. And why are you calling me darling? When you were here, you used to call me slug, remember that? Is your dumbass listening to me or should I book a ticket just to slap you in person.”

“Yeah.”

At that moment, I didn’t know what to do or say because I couldn’t understand what she was talking about. I came across with an another picture, right below Jungkook, and it was Park Jimin, who has the brighest smile I have ever seen in my entire life. “Jesus, what is that?” I took the frame from the wall and started looking at it closer. His eyes were barely seen and his hair was a mess. His fingers around his chin are so short that if Mc Donald’s gave me French fries as short and small as them, I would probably freak out and crumble.

I ended the call without saying a word and focused only on the picture. Oh God, I wish you’d do that favor to me because I think I am infatuated and this man will never sleep on my Barbie sheets, I told myself. I read his name which is written in bold right under the frame, Park Jimin. And again and again and again. “You are not real.” Said I while putting it back. This fucker is too beautiful to be real.

About an hour later, I came back to the same hallway to search for my sweeper because in a moment, they are gonna come to me and tell me that those boys whom I am willing to give the last five years of my life just to kiss once are gone and it is my time to get in the practicing room and do my shit. As I found it, I heard a loud music coming from the room that is located at the end of the hallway. Of course I went there and started standing in front of the door (Every character in every story would do that, right??...) It was when I recognized the song and thought I was peeing. I checked my pants hoping I was not. When I stepped back and started breathing heavily, the door was opened by a guy who was in sweat but with a happy face, smiling and questioning me with his kinda confused face.

#btsimagine #jimin imagine #jungkookimagine #whathaveidone #bts fanfic #pleasereadthis #iamweak #park jimin #parkjimin #btsfanfic #yoongi #yoongiimagine #yoongi imagines

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agirlinjapan · 6 years

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Red Data Girl: My Longest Day of School (Week 31)

Red Data Girl: My Longest Day of School By Noriko Ogiwara A Translation

Miss the last piece? Read it here!

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Here we are. We’ve made it to the end of Red Data Girl: My Longest Day of School. This is the final installation of book 5 in the Red Data Girl series. From here, there’s only one book left in the series! We’re almost there!

I began posting RDG 5 just over a year ago. In this time, a lot has changed in my life for the better. I also feel like I’ve made a lot of improvements in my translation abilities. Translation is a learning process, both from a mechanical language base and a cultural base. With each page I translate, I learn new vocabulary and grammar, but also how to make a Japanese story accessible to a new language audience.I look forward to continuing my translation journey with every book and story I work on from here out.

As always, I want to say thank you so, so much to all of you who read this translation. I enjoy translating, but I honestly, don’t think I would have come this far with RDG if it wasn’t for the support of my readers. I love hearing from everyone who reaches out to me, whether that’s through messages or comments here on Tumblr or through tweets on the translation’s Twitter page. All of you make the translation process fun and rewarding, even through the hard parts.

I also want to make a special shout out to my amazing Ko-fi donors who have helped support my next translation project. I can’t say enough how much I appreciate your generosity.

Not only is RDG 5 the penultimate book in this series, but it’s also the last book whose events are covered in the anime. Book 6 will begin a new part of the story that even fans of the anime may not know yet. I will be posting the title and back cover eye catch for this new (and final!) book sometime later this week. Then next Sunday, August 19th, RDG 6 will begin on this blog.

Without further ado though, please enjoy the final installation of Red Data Girl: My Longest Day of School.

Red Data Girl: My Longest Day of School By Noriko Ogiwara Chapter 4: Choice Part 5 (1 of 1)

The students weren’t the only ones who came back to their senses at the loud sound of the helicopter. Izumiko did as well.

Oh, I’m back…

The fan she was holding had disappeared, and when she looked down at herself, she was wearing her kuroko outfit. While all of this was a relief to her, she couldn’t help but notice that the only thing that hadn’t gone back to the way it had been before, was her long, unbound hair. It remained wild and loose.

Why were my hair ties the only thing that didn’t come back?...

As she touched her unbound hair, Miyuki rushed up with so much speed it looked as if he was being chased. The staff was still clutched in his hand.

“Come here, Izumiko.”

When she didn’t respond, Miyuki grabbed her hand and pulled her into a run.

Once again, they were surrounded by the scenery of the campus. However, Miyuki was leading them in the opposite direction of the classroom building and everyone else. When Izumiko looked behind them, she saw all the costumed students packed together, looking up at the sky as they pointed and said this or that to each other.

Izumiko looked up as well. There was a helicopter descending down through the clouds towards the ground. That wasn’t all, though. A wire rope had been lowered from the helicopter and there was a person hanging from it. It looked like a search and rescue officer. Obviously, everyone was surprised by what was going on.

“What’s happening?” Izumiko asked, but Miyuki did not answer. “Where’s Takayanagi?”

“He’s fine. He’s on his way back. More importantly than that, do you see Yukariko?” Miyuki asked, looking restlessly up at the person in the sky.

Surprised, Izumiko looked back up as well. The figure was not wearing the bright colors of a rescue uniform. Instead, she was wearing all black. Now that Miyuki had said something, the person did look female.

“But why’s she in a helicopter?”

“They’re going to land on the sports grounds. Let’s go see.”

Izumiko and Miyuki arrived at the field faster than anyone else. Thanks to this, they were able to meet the person hanging from the wire ladder while the helicopter hovered just above the ground. The woman let go, landing gracefully on her feet.

With a helmet and sunglasses on from her trip in the sky, it was hard to see her face. However, it could only be Yukariko.—Both Izumiko and Miyuki were sure of that.

Izumiko held her loose hair tightly in both hands so that it didn’t fly around in the wind. With it secured, she and Miyuki approached her mother.

It didn’t seem like the helicopter itself was going to land at the school. The ladder began to rise back up. It was difficult to see into the cockpit, but as it flew away and rose back up into the air, Miyuki was sure the pilot was Yukimasa.

Does he act the way he does because of Yukariko?... he wondered.

Yukariko’s long hair blew around in the wind as she took off her helmet. Izumiko noticed that her mother’s hair was longer than it had been when she had seen her over summer vacation. But after seeing the difference in Hodaka’s hair from one day to another, she couldn’t bring herself to be surprised. However, she was more than impressed by her mother’s entrance and the razor-like, black suit with gold buttons she was wearing.

“Mom, you look like some kind of phantom thief.”

“Isn’t this a costumed school festival? Wouldn’t you say my outfit’s just right, then?”

“Our theme is the Warring States era.”

Yukariko held her helmet under her arm, but didn’t take her sunglasses off. The dark lenses made it hard to see the emotion in her eyes, but her red lips were clear to see as they twisted into a smile.

“I may be a parent of a student here, but I also came for work. Did you forget my job in the police force? I need to expose a suspicious organization, and collect evidence against them.”

Izumiko and Miyuki’s eyes grew wide.

“Could this have anything to do with… the balloon?”

Yukariko did not answer Izumiko’s question. However, her smile widened.

“You’ve worked hard today, Izumiko. You too, Miyuki. Both of you did very well. If you can get through this, you’ve taken your first steps towards who you’ll become in the future for sure.”

There was something about her mother’s tone that Izumiko could not comprehend. “Did you become the goddess today?...” she asked, the words slipping out of her mouth before she knew what she was saying.

“Mmm. Something like that. Let the adults clean up the last few troublesome details. We need to settle things amicably with the people gathered here, as well. I’ll go to the board of director’s office and have a chat with the adults there. Go take care of your own business.”

The brisk words were all she said before she turned her back and walked away. It was the same blunt way she always acted, but it was probably all she could have done with so many students watching them now. Awestruck by the sight of Yukariko with her hair blowing in the wind, the students parted to let her by.

Honaka’s voice cut through the air over the outdoor speakers, calling the students back.

Everything was working again.

“I need to find Mr. Nonomura and return the staff, ” Miyuki, who had been unusually silent in front of Yukariko, said quietly. “There’s no reason for me to keep it.”

“Mr. Nonomura is here? I want to see him, too.”

Izumiko glanced towards Miyuki to find exhaustion written all over his face. The emotion hadn’t been there a moment before. She could feel her own body growing heavy, and knew that she was near her own limit.

“Where did you see him?”

“He was by the bazaar, but he’s probably gone somewhere else by now.”

Neither of them wanted to join the student gathering. They were tired and knew that they wouldn’t be able to handle all the questions that would certainly come at them from everyone at school.

Miyuki leaned heavily on the staff as he walked. “I feel like I need this as a cane so that I don’t trip…” he grumbled quietly. “I haven’t eaten or slept in ages.”

“Now that you mention it, we missed lunch.” Izumiko said, growing anxious over Miyuki’s condition. It looked like his legs might give out on the way to their destination, but she couldn’t be certain of that by just looking at him.

Luckily, when it seemed like they wouldn’t be able to take another step further, they spied Mr. Nonomura. His large form made big strides forward until he was in front of them. He was the sort of trustworthy person who could make someone feel better with just a look.

“Mr. Nonomura.”

“Izumiko. I’m glad to see you again. Good work, Miyuki,” Mr. Nonomura said in his powerful voice, a large grin splitting across his face. As always, he didn’t say any more than was necessary.

When Miyuki reached out to hand him the staff, the man immediately said, “Miyuki, you should go to the nurse’s office before you collapse. I’ll go with you, and talk to the teacher there. You should do the same, Izumiko. You’ll experience some backlash after what you did today.”

With Mr. Nonomura watching over them, the two made their way to the nurse’s office only to find ever-calculating Takayanagi already sound asleep in one of the beds. While the nurse, Ms. Sakakiba, showed obvious suspicion towards the previously missing students, their exhaustion was evident, and with Mr. Nonomura accompanying them to the office, she welcomed them in without much fuss. When she heard that they hadn’t eaten lunch yet, she brought them bentos and bread, along with drinks. Miyuki grateful drank a sports drink, but announced that this was all that he could manage at that point in time. Then he went to sleep in the bed next to Takayanagi’s.

The bento Izumiko received consisted of red rice, fried shrimp, and roasted fish. As she ate, a thought suddenly crossed her mind.

…If I had gone to the palace and eaten there, I wonder what kind of food would have been at the feast…

It was something she would never know. Sitting in the nurse’s office, she couldn’t help but feel as if she had been two completely different people today; who she was now, and the person who had considered all humans, including her parents, to be her enemy, and had thought about leaving forever with Masumi. Regardless of what it felt like, those had certainly been her thoughts, and now they were rooted deep down inside of her beneath her outer thoughts and opinions. There was still plenty of time to process the trials she had been through today.

Izumiko slowly finished her bento. Even when she had eaten it all, there was no chance of Miyuki waking up anytime soon, so Mr. Nonomura brought her back to the girl’s dorm. She had planned to put her hair securely back in its braids, but when she looked at her bed, she instantly know that she had reached her limit. She fell into a deep sleep before she could do anything with her hair.

When the rest of the students besides the three sleeping off the day’s events had gathered back at the front of the school, the final battle with all its balloons commenced and continued on until the scheduled end time. The game did what it had been intended to do, and the students soon relaxed and regained their earlier competitive spirit. After all the cheering, there was a short explanation on what had happened that day, but no one seemed too worried about it thanks most likely to everyone having recovered from the group hallucination.

While what had occurred on campus was strange, all the students and visitors were fine. What was stranger yet was that after everything was said and done, no one spread any more rumors about what had happened. There was not one complaint about the electrical breakdown, the Warring States era ghosts, or the other troublesome events that had happened. Luckily, none of the people working at the school that day filed any claims either, and no formal investigation on what had happened ever occurred.

That didn’t mean the students had completely forgotten about what had happened, though.

After the electronics came back on, the students spent even more time on their phones and laptops than they usually did.

“She really did look great in that costume.”

“I think so, too.”

“She made such a great princess.”

“I wish I could have gotten a picture of that dance…”

Everyone was looking at the picture of Izumiko from the kimono demonstration.

It was at this time that the top student was chosen. The decision was made based on the criteria of the other students’ consensus, but more importantly, by who had stood out the most. It was not Ichijo Takayanagi nor Mayura Souda who Hodaka Murakami chose in the end. However, Izumiko, along with the other two students sleeping soundly in the nurse’s office, would not know the reason for this decision until much, much later.

#red data girl #rdg #rdg 5 #rdg 5 week 31 #rdg my longest day of school #translation

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cantijustwish · 7 years

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Phanfiction One- shot: Souls

I rolled over lazily in my bed, staring at my alarm clock. 10:30 a.m. I sat up and began to dress in what I thought would be depressing enough for society.

“It’s too early for this shit.” I mumbled.

“I agree.”

I quickly turned around to find an attractive man in a blue suit. His eyes were like glowing amber, warm and tempting. But I knew them very well.

“What do you want, Satan?” I asked, arms crossed.

He looked around the room, his gaze not bothering to reach my own. “I need a favor.”

My eyes narrowed. Last time I saw him I was sixteen, and it was to make a deal. He sat down on the bed and crossed his legs, refusing to look at me.

“I will give you your soul back as payment for agreeing to help me.” He stated firmly, finally looking at me.

“And if I refuse?” I asked.

“Then I will drive you mad, take away everyone you’ve ever loved, haunt you in your dreams, until you finally surrender to my lovely friend; Death.” He tilted his head and smiled at me, his blonde hair moving as he did so.

I bit my lower lip. He didn’t give me much of a choice. “Fine. I agree to help you.”

“Splendid!” He waved his hands as he stood up. “First, I’ll need your hands in mine to return the soul you so graciously sold.” He extended his hands, palms facing upwards. With a sickening feeling in my gut, I cautiously rested my hands into his. They were warm like last time, which didn’t help the awful feeling. As he began the ritual the sky got darker, and the room got colder. His hands got warmer the more he chanted, and a burning sensation filled my chest with pain. He quickly let go and I fell to the floor, sitting hard on my butt. The sky was back to normal, the room returned to warm, and the burning in my chest lessoned.

My lungs were struggling to get air in because there was pressure pressing on them. My body felt heavier and I could feel my heart pounding faster than it should.

“Souls.” Satan said. “Heavy little burdens they are. Your balance will be off for a couple of hours, while your everything gets used to your soul being back. Along with your soul getting used to being in a body.” He offered his hand to help me up. “It will take a few days for your soul to find the weight and place.” He tugged me up to meet his gaze. “So you’ll feel random pain and pressure in various body parts. But don’t worry.” He winked. “It’s only temporary.”

And with that he disappeared, not even bothering to tell me what he needed me for. I shook my head and went to the kitchen, greeted by Phil, who was sitting on the counter, eating a bowl of cereal. We discussed what game we should play for our gaming channel, while I fried an egg.

“What are you thinking about?” Phil asked.

“Huh?” I looked at him.

He furrowed his brows at me. “You’ve got your thinking face on.”

I shrugged, coming up with a white lie to tell him. “Just thinking of how we met.” I smiled at him, as I flipped the egg over. “It was so long ago, and now we’re best friends living together. It’s pretty mind blowing.”

Phil set his bowl down and grinned at me. “Right? We had a radio show, we wrote a book, and went on tour.”

If only I sold my soul to gain his love instead.

After breakfast Phil went into his room to work on a video while I took my regular position on the couch. Before I could open my laptop I felt a heavy pain in my head. Thinking it was a migraine, I rubbed the sides of my forehead, trying to loosen the tension. When they didn’t work I got up and found some tylenol, and took two pills with a full glass of water.

Two hours later I was on my bed in the dark. At this point I figured it was my soul figuring out where to be and how heavy it should be. I’d rather be soul less than have this go on for a couple of days. At least I have a chance of going to heaven now, which is an upside.

The next few days were full of me falling over and getting pains in every part of my body. Phil was tempted to call the ambulance when I fell down the stairs and had a bloody nose. I told him that I was fine and that it’ll pass. He kept fussing over it and told me to see a doctor. I explain to him that I’ve had this before and it was no big deal.

At the end of the day, when Phil went to bed, my old friend, Satan arrived. This time he was sitting next to me, dressed in a red suit. “You haven’t had any more balance issues recently?” He asked.

“No. But I got a bloody nose because my leg decided to cramp up while I was going down stairs.”

“Well, as long as you have your balance, we can talk.” He started, his amber eyes glowing, “You see, I had a friend who helped me in Hell. His name was Joel and I had him go undercover for me.”

“Undercover, where?” I queried.

“Heaven of course!” he smiled charmingly. “He’s a Fallen and I gave him wings. I just found out from my other spies that he’s been missing for a few decades. Which is why I haven’t heard from him in a long time. I’d like to find him.” He stood up and offered his gloved hand.

I stayed seated. “Why would you like to find him, and why do you need my help?”

He took his hand back and had a serious expression. “He’s very powerful, like me. We bonded.” He took off the glove on his left hand. “We were branded, see?”

He extended his left hand to show a feather looking birthmark.

“Okay, what does that have to do with me?” I blinked.

“I cannot find him in his human form. No one but a human can.” He looked at me.

I stared at him. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

He waved his hands in air in frustration. “Alright fine, I’m worried, and I can feel him in the area. You’re the only one that’s not afraid of me, regardless of the fact that I’m Satan, ruler of Hell! “

I could feel him lying but I laughed. “You? In love?” I snorted.

“Dan, this is serious.”

“You’re not that intimidating, Satan.” I wiped my eyes after pretending to laugh so hard. “Okay, so it’s not that serious, I just gotta find the guy with the same birthmark. How am I going to do that?”

He gritted his teeth. “You have to sleep with him.”

I blinked at him. “As in, have sex?”

“Yes. Otherwise you’ll never find the mark.”

“Where exactly is mark the at?” I hoped I wouldn’t have to see any of my friends’ dicks’ to determine who they are.

He sighed. “It’s on his left hip.”

Well, that beats fucking every guy I know. I reached out my hand for him to shake. “I’ll find him. How long do I have, and how will I contact you when I find him?”

Satan closed his hand, reopened it, to reveal a bracelet with a feather charm on it. “You have three months and five days. When you find him touch the feather charm and think of me.”

I accepted the bracelet and he vanished.

It was a long night, full of tossing and turning. I tried to recall if I’ve ever seen my friends’ hips. I only have about three people I consider friends. Phil, PJ, and Chris, were the only guy friends I’m decently close to. I’ve seen Phil naked many times during tour, so I ruled him out. I considered texting Chris in the morning to schedule a time to hang out, but I wouldn’t know how to get him to show his hips. And I can’t ask him ‘nudes’, because that’s just weird. PJ would be easier because he’s an open book. I could probably ask him right now if he had any birthmarks and he’d reply within the next twenty four hours. So I shot him a text asking just that.

When I woke up, which was around noon, I saw I got a reply from PJ.

‘Nope. Why?’

I lied.

‘Tumblr had this post about birthmarks being the place where you got stabbed and died.’

I took five minutes to gather my things so I could shower. I didn’t even bother to get dressed so I walked out into the hallway in my underwear. Phil’s door was opened, and he was sat on his bed with his laptop. I told him I was going to shower so avoid using the toilets and sinks. He nodded his understanding.

The warm water cascading over my body cleared my mind. I have three months to find this person. I already have two people down. But then again Satan said Joel was in my area. He didn’t give me much to go on. Perhaps I’ll summon him tonight to ask for details. I don’t get why people are so afraid of him. He’s not that scary. Yes, I believe his threats, yes, I know he’s powerful, but he’s okay. He know’s mankind’s desires and he wants to help them get it. No matter how twisted that desire is. But in order to interfere with fate, it requires a lot of energy. So in trade you give your soul. Which isn’t much since it doesn’t really interfere with your day to day life.

He was my friend at some point. He was the new kid across the street from my old home. We became friends and I told him about how much I really wanted to meet AmazingPhil from YouTube. I brought it up almost every time we hung out, which was everyday for a solid week. At the end of the week he asked if I’d be willing to give my soul up for such a chance. I told him ‘Hell yeah!’. And that’s the story of how I made a deal with the devil.

But in that week, he told me that he hated his job because he had to deal with stupid people in Hell. I just assumed he meant customer service, not actual Hell. He told me all about the pressure of being the manager, and how he really just wanted to relax with a friend of his who was working for another person. He also told me his worries of said friend because he hasn’t heard from him in a long time. I recall telling him that it’s just fine, but he said that he’s afraid that the friend has changed over the years.

Now I know who he’s talking about.

Once out of the shower I asked Phil if he wanted to get some lunch with me. He agreed and we were out of the apartment by one. We didn’t get back til four, we were so caught up in our conversation about whether or not we’d survive the zombie cow apocalypse the whole time.

“Ready to film some Dil?” Phil smirked.

You’d think after having a normal day with Phil, I’d be completely relax. Truth is, I’ve never been more on edge. I don’t know much about Demons and Angels, and the thought of living near one made me uncomfortable. I debated if I should tell Phil about my whole deal with the devil, but thought it was best to not involve him. I didn’t want to hurt him in this, I had no idea what the consequences would be if I didn’t find the guy in three months.

Soon three months turned into two and I was still having a rough time finding Joel. I already questioned Chris and he said he didn’t have any that he was aware of. I started to question other youtubers, all the one’s I’ve worked with, the ones who we did videos with. I was left with Tyler Oakley. He was going to be easy considering it’s Tyler.

The only thing was, he lived in America. If I jokingly sent a message ‘send nudes’, there is a chance I may get some, which I wasn’t to thrilled about. I pulled up twitter on my phone and messaged Tyler on the subject of birthmarks.

‘Hey, do you have any birthmarks?’

‘Why?’

‘Reasons.’

‘No. Is this for a video?’

‘Nope.’

‘...okay.’

And now he thinks I’m a freak. Oh well, my life is going to shit anyways. I tossed my phone on the bed and flopped down. I was out of people that I knew. Perhaps I should just sell my soul again and make it so that he can never do anything to hurt the people I love. At least they’d be safe.

“Dan.” Phil poked his head in my door way. “I’m going out to eat dinner with my brother and his wife. You going to be okay?”

This was something Phil always did before he left; make sure I’d be okay while he was gone. If I ever said no, he’d cancel or take me with. I took it as an opportunity to summon my dealer, so I told Phil that I’d be alright while he was gone.

“You sure? You’ve been acting strange the past few weeks.”

“Just some stuff.” I gave a small smile.

He opened the door more so I could see his body. “Is it… about us?”

I bit my lip. If only, I thought. “Phil, I’m fine, spend time with your brother.”

“Dan?” Phil furrowed his brows and we locked eyes. “I know I didn’t give you an answer, but that doesn’t-”

“Phil, can we drop it? I know what rejection looks like and feels like. I’m fine, I promise you, I just need some time alone.” I half lied, lowering my eyes to the ground.

He nodded and closed the door. I touched the charm and thought about Satan coming to say hi.

“Well, have you found Joel yet?” He said from behind me, making me jump.

Hands in the air, I loudly exclaimed. “Can’t you just appear within my vision like a regular person?”

He thought about it for a second, and shook his head. “Have you found Joel?”

“How can I, when you haven’t given me much to go on? You didn’t give me any physical traits, or something he likes to do, how can I find him that way?”

He sat on top of my desk. “One thing a Fallen can’t do is hide their eye color. He has green eyes, though I’ve seen him change them to a green yellow while he was undercover. Look for a person with green and yellow eyes.”

“Okay.” We stared at each other. “Anything else?”

“He likes animals.”

“Okay.” I waved my hands for more.

“Just go on those characteristics, and I’m sure you’ll find him by next month.” He stood and turned around, getting ready to leave.

“Why did he leave?” I blurted out.

He stopped and turned to face me. “Nothing can scare men like love. Lust is easy, lust doesn’t require much. But love, now that is something completely different. You have to be committed to it, you have to show it, say it, fuck like it. Even powerful beings fall victim to it, and it doesn’t end well.”

I had the feeling that he was telling the truth. “So he rejected you, and then decided to disappear?”

“Yes.” He looked down and shoved his hands in the pockets of his black suit pants.

“So why do you want to find him so badly if he left you?”

He sighed. “Dan, don’t you want to know the reasons why you were rejected by people?”

I nodded.

“That’s all I want. An explanation. Depending on his answer, I may or may not ruin how a country functions.” With that he left me alone.

After the clock turned ten I heard Phil open the door. I sat on my bed, thinking over what Satan said about wanting an explanation. Perhaps it was time to ask Phil as to why he doesn’t love me back.

I got up and saw that he door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open to see Phil in the middle of undressing. My gaze quickly averted to the floor, a slight warmth flushed my cheeks. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. You can look at me Dan, I’m know you’ve seen more before.” He pulled up his emoji pants to his hips. “What do you want to talk about.?” He sat on his colorful bed and patted a spot next to it.

I sat down to the left of him, inspecting my hands. Finally I parted my lips to speak. “I just. Want to know why…. You don’t love me back?” I let out the air I was holding in my chest as my eyes watered. I wasn’t sure if I could do this. Any of it. But the need to know was there, it has been since the end of the tour. I just didn’t have the guts to ask until now, because I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to find Joel in time.

Phil turned to face me, his legs criss-crossed. “Dan, it’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I’m afraid to love you.”

I looked at him, confused.

“The phandom is so focused on us being together, I’m afraid that if we do tell them, they’ll go all crazy. And you know what happened a few years ago, after they almost ruined our friendship. We acted like we didn’t know each other, we rarely did videos together. I’m not sure if being together would be a good thing. Because there are still going to be weird people doing weird fanart and fanfiction. Those fans who think they know what’s going on in our lives, when they couldn’t be more wrong.” His eyes looked so defeated. “Dan. I don’t want our fan base to hurt what we have now, or in the future. I’m fine with just being friends, because I feel like that’s as good as it will ever get.”

“We can just forget about what they think, Phil? We can-”

“-Dan, I have tried, but it still bothers me. I’m not comfortable when the fan base does those things. Yes, I can ignore it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t annoy me.”

“We can just do it in secret. We don’t have to tell them, Phil.”

His blue eyes stared into my brown ones. They held uncertainty, pain, and hope. There was also another feeling in there. Longing.

He shook his head, his black hair swishing as he did so. “I don’t know if I could do it.”

“Why not?” I tried a small smile and placed my hands on his. I didn’t know how long I had with Phil, and I would love to be with him for the remainder of my life. No matter how short it was.

“I’ve never been with a guy before.” He sighed. “This isn’t the first time, Dan. I don’t know why I didn’t tell him that I liked him back,” He hung his head. “but I found you, and I’m so glad that I did because I feel more when I’m around you than I ever did with him.”

My eyes narrowed. “Who’s this him?”

He moved his hands away from mine and refused to look at me. “It was a long time ago. It doesn’t really matter anymore. I just don’t like hurting people.”

‘He has green eyes’, Satan told me. ‘ I’ve seen him change them to a green yellow.’

Phil’s eyes were mostly blue. But they had specks of green and yellow. “Stand up.”

Phil looked at me. “Why?”

“Just. Stand up. Please.” I commanded.

He stood up and my hand went to his left hip. I gently pulled down the side with my pointer finger. I saw a purple feather like mark on his pale skin. I let the fabric go back to place as I stood up to face Phil.

“You’re a Fallen. At least, that’s what Satan calls you.” I straightened my jawline. After all this time, the man he was looking for was a couple of yards away from me.

“Dan, what are you talking about?”

“You don’t need to lie, Phil.” My expression hardened. “You and Satan were once like us, but when we confessed our love to you, you left, or didn’t say anything. Now he’s looking for you, and the only thing stopping him from showing up, is me.” I held out my right wrist with the charm bracelet.

“Wha-why, would you have that? How do you know Satan?” His eyes bore into my skull.

Hesitation caught me in the throat. “I… made a deal with him, years ago.”

“As did I.” His eyes didn’t leave mine. “Dan, I left him because I didn’t want to be his spy anymore. I risked so much for him, only to have him tell me I wasn’t doing as well as the others.” He voice began to rise. “He used me, he took my blood, he gave me my wings after I promised him my soul. I had to fight to get out of there, I thought I was doing just fine, playing a human being.” His gaze turned into a glare. “But I guess not.”

“Phil.”

“What? What are you going to say, huh? Do you know how much pain he put me through, Dan? Do you?”

“Phil.”

“After I came back the first time to report, he pulled out my feathers because it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. The second time, he chained them down for years, until I begged him in my blood. The third time, he cut them off, putting me in pain I didn’t even know existed. Dan, I’ve been alive for hundreds of years, I saw mankind get hit with plagues, natural disasters, hell, I’ve witness rape and abuse countless times! I was casted out for speaking my mind on how we treat humankind, I was left to roam this earth with my wings visible. I had to hide, I had to insulate myself. Because if I didn’t I was going to get hunted. And I was, I was hunted til they finally cut me apart, they took my feathers, my wings, they took my skin. It was in my dying moments that I begged for another chance.” He switch his gaze to everything but me. “I was hoping to avoid him for one lifetime, just one lifetime, Dan. I was going to meet him again anyways, because he still has my soul.” He looked at me, betrayal masking his beautiful blue eyes.

“Phil.” I tried again.

“What? What is it, Dan?!” He demanded, tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

His mouth opened slightly, shock written all over his facial features.

“I was unaware that I was becoming like him. I don’t want to betray you, but I don’t know what he’ll do if I don’t tell him. I’m just human.” My body shook, fear grasping my heart.

Phil pulled me into a hug. “I know. But humans are better than my kind.”

After Phil explained the basics of how angels and demons work, we set out a plan. A plan which required him to carve certain markings into my back. I passed out a few times from the pain, but the ritual calls for no pauses, or even screams. So it was a good thing my body was weak because I was close to breaking those rules.

Once done, Phil bandaged me up, and gave me two days to heal. On day three I summoned Satan.

“You better have good news, because I’m sick of being called for nothing.” He appeared to the left of me.

“And what would you do if it wasn’t good news?” Phil walked in, and leaned on the door frame.

Satan inspected Phil, “My, my.” He looked at me and then back to Phil. “You certainly went over the top on your disguise. No wonder I couldn’t find you.”

“I know how to blend in.”

He walked over to face Phil. “Took a stillborn and gave its body life.” He whistled.

“I did what you wanted.” I spat at Satan. “What are you going to do to him?”

“That is none of your business, but I will make sure you get a good place in my kingdom.” He smiled coldly at Phil.

He grabbed Phil by the shirt collar but before he could vanish, I shouted, “Wait!”

Satan turned to glare at me, his once warm eyes, were cold with malice.

“I want to make another deal. My soul for Phil’s.”

“Dan, you can’t do-” But Phil was cut off by Satan’s hand in the air.

“Are you sure you want to give up your soul, again?” He let go of Phil and began his walk towards me. “You can offer it for much more than a petty soul.” He leered.

“Mine for his.” I stated firmly.

He snapped his fingers and Phil slid down hard on to his butt. “Done.” He thrusted his hands out, palms up. “Now time for yours.” He smiled cruelly.

I prayed to whoever was out there that the markings would work. I gave in and rested my hands on his warm ones. He began chanting, his voice getting louder and louder, shaking the whole apartment.

Only to dissipate himself back to Hell.

I sat down hard, the sudden pain knocking the breath out of me. Phil rushed to me and held me while the pain subsided.

“So. Did it work?” I shakily asked.

He held me closer, his breath on my neck. “Yes. He won’t bother us til death now.”

I closed my eyes, feeling safe in his arms.

After I was fully healed, we began dating. We decided to keep it secret because Phil really was afraid of what the fan base could do. But we left little hints in all of our videos together. Perhaps, we’ll announce it when we’re done with YouTube. Perhaps we never will and just keep it between us, letting the world decide. Perhaps, it was better that way.

#dan and phil #phanfiction

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gendryw4ters-blog · 7 years

Text

that eleven questions thing!!

tagged by @ruinsrebuilt !! <3

rules: answer the following 11 questions, add 11 questions of your own, and tag 11 mutuals (im doing mine under a readmore for length!)

1. favorite childhood memory?

reading the graphic novel version of the hobbit while sat in a tree near the caravan we were staying in and then later going exploring down the riverbank with my camera (it was like!! this SUPER nice campsite near inverness and i wanna go back there so so bad)

2. if you didn’t have to sleep, what would you do with the extra time?

this is genuinely kinda hard because i quite enjoy sleeping and also i waste a good 2 thirds of my awake time as it is- HOWEVER i think i would use it to travel more, and get more stuff done in order to travel even more on top of that too

3. when people come to you for help, what do they usually want help with?

usually just someone to talk to when they’re upset, which i dont mind at all for the most part! though its something i have to be careful with, it’s still nice to know that people trust me enough to be able to do that. people have also! sometimes been coming to me with music questions too which is!!! super neat and i love that a lot

4. what are some small things that make your day better?

mindless but pleasant little interactions with strangers on the street (i actually ended up befriending like 4 of the mums i walked past on my way to school taking their younger kids in the opposite direction and it was lovely), the bf letting me steal the crispiest fries (the only fries worth having) that he gets, and the kids at work being actually kind of good for the duration of an entire lunchtime ahah

5. what are your top 3 tv shows?

(excluding band of brothers cause thats kind of a given)

peaky blinders

westworld

twin peaks

i THINK but thats not exhaustive i also love game of thrones and pushing daisies

6. best day on the calendar?

hmmmm.................. probably november 5th! thats mine and the bf’s anniversary!

7. something a ton of people are obsessed with that you just don’t get?

there’s so much i could include here but!! im gonna go with the tv show Friends. dont @ me over this pls

8. what piece of entertainment do you wish you could erase from your mind so that you could experience for the first time again?

this is also tough, BUT i think im gonna go with the hobbit film trilogy? to both destroy their connection to an unkined person in my life and also! to re-sink back into the magic without being so overly critical of it like i am now. let me take my beautiful scenery and idiot dwarves and problematically written female characters at face value and let me enjoy em, please

9. where would you rather be from?

SCOTLAND for free university

10. what are your top 3 most visited websites?

tumblr, youtube, and proooobably twitter?

11. if you had to classify people into two types, what are the types?

old arctic monkeys vs new arctic monkeys (except not always vs its not always a fight but! you know what i mean)

aight! here are my questions:

1) are you an old arctic monkeys, or a new arctic monkeys person?

2) the top 3 WORST films youve ever seen?

3) comfort snack of choice?

4) favourite book, and a quote from it?

5) it’s a chilly autumn day and the rain is pouring (very atmospherically) outside and you have no plans other than to sit inside by the fire and read all day or to cosy up under a blanket and watch tv. which fictional character would you want to be there with you? (and who is your backup, should the other be busy?)

6) which animated character do you want to fist-fight the most??

7) most ridiculous way you’ve ever been injured?

8) describe your favourite item of furniture that you own in excruciating detail

9) how do you like your eggs in the morning?

10) emojis? or em-no-thanks-not-for-mes?

11) if you could be read a bedtime story by ONE (1) actor of your choice, who would it be and what story would they read for ya?

Tagging: okay! i know some of you have already been tagged but!! since the questions are different each time i figure that didnt matter so much maybe (sorry if it does though! and you def dont have to do this if you dont wanna), so im tagging:

@aces-low, @ralphspina, @queenofkeys, @ackackh, @jim-bones-spock, @davidvvebsters, @kuurihn, @ruinsrebuilt (again ;-)), @damnyoualex, and anyone else who wants to have a stab at some of the uestions!! just tag me in the post so i can see! <3

#me af #tag game thingamajig #i; personally; want to fistfight the minions #this meme is COOL AF btw #also sorry about the state of my questions but also NOT SORRY i wanna know who's gonna read like #idk whats a good bedtime story #anna karenina who's gonna read you that before you sleep?#tbh literally anyone and everyone can do the questions i asked if they wanna like- i wanna know these things theyre fun

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rizuno · 7 years

Note

Write me a ficlet about Stiles finding random love poems/notes written on little scraps of paper stuffed in weird places, like between the seats in the Jeep, in the pockets of hoodie he swore he just washed so how could there be intact paper in there, in his shoes, under his pillow. Who is writing all these notes and how do they keep randomly appearing on Stiles person!?!?!

This is unbeta-d, and I am subjecting you dear reader(s?) to poetry written by me masquerading as English!Major Derek Hale. BASICALLY I’m SORRY ABOUT THE CRAP POETRY OK. also im really fuckin pissed off about the spacing of the poems but tumblr is adamant about pretending to not know what the fuck im trying to do when i try and reformat it i need to stop before i just delete this whole post in a fit of RAGE

For RachelBBY

Scraps

The first time it happens, Stiles doesn’t think anything of it. He figures he just wrote it himself in English and then forgot. It’s just a neglected scrap of paper hiding amidst other papers under his desk, sacrificed on the altar of a weekly allowance with everything else he throws out as he cleans his room. He only really glanced at it anyway, he was preoccupied with being pissed off at Derek for being Derek, thinks it said something about heartbeats and irregular spaces. So that was the incident, he supposes.

The second time he’s got his hand stuffed in the crease of Roscoe’s passenger seat in a desperate search for just one fucking quarter, just one, and withdraws a crumpled piece of paper instead. “How long has that been there?” Stiles asks himself as he de-crumples it to read it. He snorts. Obviously quite a while, it’s a poem, and Stiles knows he didn’t write this one, which means it’s circa the Scott/Allison Era.

you laughed

it was Tuesday

you didn’t know I was there

“Not half bad Scotty,” Stiles murmurs, not bothering to finish the rest of it as he tosses it aside and resumes the quest for one measly quarter cause he just wants a burger. Out of life, all he wants is to eat a burger right now. It’s not so much to ask? Right?

He bitches and moans to Scott about his inability to find a quarter and thus eat a burger, but forgets to ask him about the poem thing. The next time he sees Derek, Derek flips him a quarter with a smirk. “Oh, fuck you,” Stiles says, but pockets the quarter and eats him that fucking burger later that night, after they have all managed, miraculously, to not die. “Victory comes in all forms,” Stiles informs Scott sagely in between mouthfuls. So that’s the coincidence, in all its glory.

The third time has Stiles paying the fuck attention, because he’s digging around his back pocket for the quarter Derek gave him, and just as he remembers he spent it already, his fingers close around what must be a receipt. Stiles heaves a grunt of disgust, no curly fries for him then, and glances at the scrap of paper uninterestedly, out of habit, as his arm moves to toss it into the trashcan across the hall. And then he freezes. It’s not some forgotten transaction, it’s a fucking poem. What the fuck. Stiles unfolds the paper and reads the words in their entirety this time, standing in the middle of the hallway as other students stream around him as they head to class. It’s not very long, but it feels like Stiles takes several hours to read it. He reads it like it was meant for him. It must be? Right?

I think

you don’t think of me

all that often

but I think of you

quite often

I’m thinking of you now

I think of you in the morning

I think of you in my bed

at night

I wonder

if you’re thinking of me now

Stiles swallows. His mouth has gone dry. He feels like he just walked in on someone watching some really hot porn. He feels…intimate. He feels…like he’s now late for science. Stiles whirls around in a flail of limbs and pelts to the science lab. But that scrap of paper he doesn’t toss aside. That scrap he keeps. So there’s the pattern.

Stiles was sorta expecting the next one but he wasn’t prepared to find it lying on his keyboard; not there when he went downstairs to grab a soda and now there when he returns.

He tells himself his fingers are shaking with caffeine intake as he reaches out to unfold it, where it lays so innocuously.

He licks his lips, then reads.

I know you’re thinking of me now

will you think of me tonight

in your bed

with your own hands upon yourself

gasping

flushed

and undone

“Ffffuck,” Stiles hisses out between his teeth. There is no way he’s gonna make it to tonight. He’s got a really great jerk off session going, standing there right in front of his desk at 3:30 in the afternoon, pants only pulled down the bare minimum. He’s like feeling it, he is totally ready for this, ‘makes his knees weak’ orgasm he’s coming up on. And then of course, Scotty has to burst in freaking out about supernatural crisis 3B or 6A or whatever number letter combo they’re on now.

“Come on, man!” They both yell at the same time, Scott throwing up his arms and facing the wall as Stiles fumbles to stuff himself back inside his pants. Scott feels the need to ask why. Stiles rants that it’s the privacy of his own fucking room. Scott mutters something about how Derek thinks they need info. “Since when do you listen to what Derek thinks,” Stiles says petulantly as he tosses Scott a bag of Doritos and moves to sit back at his desk. Scott eats the chips on Stiles’ bed as Stiles furiously looks up shit to the best of his ability. The moment is already forgotten. That sort of awkwardness has happened before, and will probably happen again. Which come on Scott, werewolf, use those supernatural senses for once. After Scott is gone Stiles wonders what four times means. Also he mourns the loss of one of the greatest orgasms he never got to experience.

He finds the next one two nights later, under his pillow as he stretches out on his bed. He’s so relaxed and he’s in bed at a decent hour. Derek did not manage to piss him off when they came across each other briefly earlier in the evening and Stiles is ready for some nappy naps. When his fingers brush the edge of the crinkled bit of paper the first feeling he gets is surprise. It’s quickly followed by a quick dip of excitement in his gut. He doesn’t bother to switch any lights on. Too much effort. He reads it by the light of his phone.

I whisper your name to myself

after you’ve left

it’s fairly pathetic

but then last week

you trapped yourself inside your own hoodie

so at least I’m not alone

And Stiles knows. “Derek,” Stiles whispers furiously. He chucks the paper as hard as he can away from him. Which, it being paper, isn’t that far. It flutters down to rest on the bed beside him. That fucking asshole has been laughing at him this whole fucking time. So that’s what comes after a pattern. Epic fuckery.

Stiles sees Derek first thing the next morning; he’s having like, a pre-game huddle with the Erica-Isaac-Boyd triumvirate in the back parking lot behind the gym. “Stiles,” Derek greets him, the hint of a smile on his lips. “You are pathetic,” Stiles snarls at him. Derek’s jaw clenches and his expression turns cold and distant. Stiles whirls around and marches off in righteous fury. Stiles has enough fucking going on in his life without that kind of shit. Stiles thought, he’d thought…it doesn’t even matter what he thought. He was stupid and a dumbass for thinking it.

So naturally he finds the next poem sandwiched in between the pages of this month’s Great English Novel during 3rd period of that day. Stiles isn’t sure when or even how Derek got it in there, but it certainly wasn’t after this morning. He almost doesn’t read it, doesn’t want to give Derek the satisfaction, but he’s Stiles. He must fucking know. He can’t not.

I dreamed of you

it was warm

and bright

and we were safe

you took my hand

and my heart blazed brighter

when I woke

I pretended that it was the future

and if I am patient

that it will be

any day now

“What,” Stiles whispers. His own heart is sinking fast within his chest. His hand clenches down on the poem. “It was all real,” He realizes out loud.

“What?” Scott whispers from the seat behind him.

Stiles whips around in his seat to face him. “Cover for me,” Stiles begs.

Scott doesn’t know what’s going on, but he doesn’t hesitate. “Go,” he says.

Stiles slips from the room, so preoccupied he doesn’t notice that he doesn’t trip or smack into something once.

Derek won’t be at his apartment. Instinctively, Stiles knows this. He jumps in Roscoe and heads straight for the preserve.

The burned out husk of the Hale house looks as tragic and decimating as ever, but that feeling is especially poignant for Stiles at this moment. He gives Roscoe’s wheel one last squeeze, for luck or bravery or whatever, and steps out of the jeep. He tries to repress a shiver as he looks at the charred and broken edifice before him and fails. This had seemed so much simpler, less complicated back in 3rd period. No, Stiles can do this, he absolutely can. He leaps up what’s left of the front steps and barges through the door. “Derek,” he calls.

A few moments of silence, and then a resigned sigh. “What?” Derek asks, voice flat as he materializes out of wherever he was.

Stiles waves the hand that has not once unclenched on the poem in Derek’s general direction.

“You’re serious?” He accuses.

Derek’s stone face takes on a look of frustration. “Yes, Stiles, I’m serious.”

“I…I mean…why?”

Derek sighs like it’s obvious. “I wrote you poems Stiles.”

Stiles seizes upon a detail he has the mental facilities to deal with at this moment. “Why poems though?”

Derek rolls his eyes. “I’m an English Major, Stiles.” Which rude because, like,

“How was I supposed to know that,” Stiles says defensively.

They stand in silence. Derek doesn’t seem inclined to word anymore today and Stiles is furiously thinking.

“You wanna,” and his left hand, the one not still grasping the poem, makes an abortive movement towards Derek, “hold hands?”

After a moment, Derek uncrosses his arms and says, “Okay.” He reaches out, and then they’re holding hands, bridging a gap between them. It’s kind of…awkward. But it’s only awkward in that Stiles suspects feelings are present kind of way, because Derek’s thumb strokes gently along the back of his hand and Stiles feels kinda like, heart blazing or whatever.

“I think of you pretty often,” Stiles admits. “Like, a lot.”

Derek swallows. “Okay.”

BONUS:

First Poem

your heartbeats are

irregular spaces

I dwell there

and refuse to meet your eyes

when you glance my way

Second Poem

you laughed

it was Tuesday

you didn’t know I was there

I have kept it

for myself; that laugh

longing

for your real

and intransigent

presence

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #ficlet #drabble #fanfic #FOR RACHELBBY

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inawickedlittletown · 6 years

Text

Whatever It Takes (4/?)

Summary: It isn’t easy being Spider-Man, but having Tony Stark in his corner makes it that much easier. Or, Tony didn’t know he could be parental or care that much and Peter really needs a father figure.

Note: Apparently I forgot to post this chapter on my tumblr when it put it over on AO3 a little while ago. Just noticing this now while getting the next part ready.

On AO3

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

“Sir, I have found some interesting information about Mary and Richard Parker,” Friday announced.

Tony had forgotten all about the search he’d had Friday do. It had been a background thing that he’d left in the nonexistent hands of Friday and the information was suddenly in front of him and Tony turned away from his work on Cap’s shield to look at the display.

The files were from Shield from the data dump which was surprising at first until Tony realized that Friday had them up because he was looking at a report written by Richard Parker and next to it a lab sheet that had been signed by Mary Parker. They had been Shield agents. Tony leaned back against his work table. That had to mean that their deaths had been due to a mission.

“Was there anything more specific about them?” Tony asked.

“I’m afraid not, Sir,” Friday said, “it seems they kept a low profile.”

Tony nodded. He turned to look down at the shield. The paint had been sanded completely off and Tony had made work of fixing the scratches too with the materials sent over from Wakanda. Tony was really enjoying having King T’Challa’s direct number.

“Music back on, Fri,” Tony said and he got back to work, making sure the Shield was back to what it looked like before.

After the Shield, Tony worked on Clint’s new arrows, and then when he was bored of that, he turned to his newest Iron Man armor.

It was the best preparation that Tony could have for whatever was coming next. His new armor was meant for the possibility that he might end up in space again. Tony was nothing if not prepared and an alien threat meant that things might take place away from Earth. He had also updated the new Spider-Man armor to function in space. It was just a precaution.

He didn’t hear the knock on his door because of the music and jumped when Natasha cleared her throat right behind him.

Natasha laughed and walked to grab a stool while Friday turned down the music. Natasha dropped a packet of paper on the table and Tony rolled his eyes.

“Ever heard of digital copies?”

“There’s probably one in your e-mail by now but you don’t really check that, do you?” She tilted her head and her blond hair hung over her shoulder like a curtain.

“What is it, anyway?” Tony asked.

She smiled. “It’s the completed and approved version. They want us to present it to the rest of the team. They really want them to come home.”

Tony could see the hope in her eyes and Tony could admit that he missed the team too even if them coming back after everything made him anxious. He didn’t think he would be able to handle it if Clint was still blaming him for everything and especially if Steve thought that things could go back to how they used to be with him at the helm and Tony letting him take charge without much argument.

“Are you going to take it to them?” Tony asked.

Natasha shook her head and looked a bit sad about it. “I know it would go better if I did, but it would be stupid to give them up like this. I still don’t trust that the Raft won’t be used again or that they wouldn’t try to track me.”

Tony nodded. He hadn’t liked it one bit when he had to fly to the Raft to see them all behind bars and Wanda actually in a straight jacket. It was exactly what he had been trying to avoid by being the one to bring them in. He hadn’t been able to do anything to break them out or get them out legally, not with Ross there watching his every move and certainly not when there were other important things to take care of. It had always been Tony’s intention later but then Siberia happened and then Tony didn’t have the time or means for a moment and then Steve had done it instead.

“Sir, Peter has arrived,” Friday said, “would you like me to invite him down here?”

“Yes, do that,” Tony said.

“I think this coming threat alone will make them sign it,” Tony said.

Natasha sighed. “It’s not what you would have liked,” she said.

Tony looked straight at her, then. “No,” he said, “because I would have wanted this team to actually trust me and trust that I knew what I was saying and proposing. You understood and even then, even then, at the first chance you let them go because you are all loyal to Rogers.”

“This is literally the divorce that I never experienced my parents having,” Natasha said.

Tony couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah, I guess,” he said, “and Steve got the kids. I got the house.”

Natasha grinned. “So you adopted a pet spider.”

Peter was getting out of the elevator as she spoke and Tony nodded. “He’s my favorite anyway.”

“May made cookies,” Peter announced as he walked in, “they’re from frozen dough so they’re actually pretty good.”

Tony extended his hand out and Peter just handed him the plate which had been wrapped in so much plastic wrap that it took Tony a moment to get unwrapped to grab a cookie. He passed the plate on to Natasha and it was a show of good faith.

---

“This…it’s really happening,” Sam said. He was holding the inch thick packet that Natasha had sent them over. Steve held the tablet that Tony had sent over which didn’t diminish how long the new Accords were.

According to Natasha they were long because they were far more individualized and because of all the clauses and amendments that were listed inside. Vision and T’Challa had made sure to detail everything extensively and Natasha had added her own notes. It was as if they were all trying to convince him and through him the rest of the fugitive Avengers that he needed to sign.

Steve knew he had to sign it. He knew it was the only path especially since whatever new threat they were facing would matter far more. It was also possible that things would be different in the future and the Accords moot and unnecessary.

“It is,” Steve said, “it’s our ticket home.”

Sam nodded. “I bet Stark’s loving this.”

“I’m not sure how he feels,” Steve said.

He had been keeping tabs on Tony since leaving Bucky in cryostasis even when they were on the run and hoping from country to country to keep themselves hidden, often separated. So, he knew that Tony had moved to the newly renovated compound, that Tony had gone to multiple UN meetings around the globe – and even been in the same place as Steve a few times at the same time. He knew that Tony had also solved some minor disasters and Stark Industries was rolling out new technologies faster than ever before including a brand new line of bio-mechanical prosthetics that seemed to be the very best in the market and Steve knew to be Tony’s response to what had happened to James Rhodes.

Steve knew that Rhodey was not all better but that he could walk. He kept up with him and Vision and even Spider-Man who seemed to be based out of New York and wasn’t hugely involved with the Accords or even The Avengers even if Iron Man had been spotted helping him. Steve knew that Spider-Man was young, but he also knew he was capable. He had held his own against Steve. Bucky and Sam had spoken about how easily Spider-Man had been able to keep them down too. Still, Tony never officially announced him as an Avenger and he wasn’t even pushed into signing the Accords, and his somewhat low profile and hidden identity seemed to be completely intentional and Steve supposed it was useful. He remembered how Tony had immediately said no when Fury suggested they involve him too and it made Steve wonder about Spider-Man and why Tony seemed to be protecting him even from the things he himself supported.

“Nat said that it’s better than before,” Sam said, “she seems to think they’re still the right thing to do.”

Steve shrugged his shoulders. “She also dyed her hair blond.”

Sam laughed and shook his head. “You don’t really take to change very well,” he stated and then, “Clint didn’t even read his. He’s flying to DC tonight and I think Lang will be joining him. They miss their kids.”

Steve nodded. It had been hard to watch Clint try and find a way back to Laura and the kids but being incapable of even getting in contact with her. His wife was probably still not willing to talk to him anyway, but worse, she was being watched closely. Steve regretted ever including him every time he saw his disappointed face when his wife didn’t pick up on the calls he was making to the phone that had been passed along to her.

Lang was another one. He very clearly did not show that it upset him to be away from his daughter, but it was noticeable especially once Hope Van Dyne managed to meet up with them the few times she’s managed to get away. Lang handled it better, though, probably because of his time spent in jail away from his daughter. Still, it couldn’t have been easy.

“I think we should all go,” Steve said.

“You don’t want to read them completely?” Sam asked and he looked incredulous.

“I will read them on the way, but Natasha wouldn’t have sent us anything unless she thought we would agree to them and we can’t make this any harder. We have to bring the team back together. I’ve made enough mistakes and I don’t want to make more.”

---

“I bet you could probably do that course with no problem,” Ned said.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Yeah, probably,” he said.

American Ninja Warrior was literally the only thing on TV that was even a little bit worth watching that day and it was really only on because MJ had demanded an invitation to movie night and they couldn’t start without her and naturally she was late.

“How’s training going anyway?” Ned asked.

“Good,” Peter said, “Mr. Stark’s had me working with Karen a bit more and the hand to hand stuff is getting easier. They say that I’ll get more of a challenge once the rest of the team is back.”

Peter was sort of dreading it, but he hadn’t told Mr. Stark or Natasha. It was partly nerves on his part because those people were his heroes but also because the last time he’d seen any of them was in Berlin and Peter just knew that things wouldn’t be immediately alright between Mr. Stark and the rest of them.

“Is that going to be soon,” Ned asked, eyes wide.

Peter shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know,” he said, “but there’s a possibility.”

Ned clapped his hands together. “If they do, you have to introduce me to Captain America. Peter, you have to.”

Peter got out of answering when MJ knocked on the door and Peter had to get up to open it. MJ had a pile of books in her arms but she grinned at him before stepping around him and setting them down on the nearest surface.

“I stopped at this little book market on the way,” she explained, “so what are we watching and do we have snacks?”

“You could have brought snacks instead of books,” Ned said and MJ fixed him with a glare.

It was the first time that they were hanging out with MJ outside of decathlon practice and school and Peter felt a little bit awkward about it.

“I could have also decided to make you guys practice some questions instead of sitting around and watching some weird movie,” MJ said and sat down next to Ned on the couch.

"And we do have popcorn," Peter said, "unless you guys want to make the rest of the cookie dough May left."

MJ made a sound that sounded a bit like laughter but also could have been her choking. "Um, you have cookie dough and you don't want to eat it raw? What kind of person are you, Parker?"

Peter shrugged. "Pretty average one," he mumbled and looked at Ned because so far his best friend had been completely silent but Ned was apparently on his phone and not even paying attention anymore.

Peter gathered what snacks he could find in the pantries which really wasn't much because May hadn't shopped in a few weeks and he and May were so busy lately that they weren't ever home to actually enjoy any snack food.

His finds included a half eaten bag of potato chips, a few mozzarella sticks, and the popcorn he'd mentioned earlier in kernel form because Uncle Ben had always preferred to pop it himself than the microwave stuff and it was what they used to do on family movie nights. Thinking about it made Peter a little sad but he set about making them popcorn anyway and was surprised when MJ joined him in the kitchen. She leaned against the counter.

"I heard that your boss is welcoming back his teammates," MJ said, "I guess that means you'll be seeing more than just Spider-Man occasionally." She cocked her head to the side and Peter felt a moment of absolute panic.

"I don't think so," he said, "and I, um, I only ever saw Spider-Man the one time."

MJ gave him something like a knowing look and then shrugged her shoulders. Peter couldn't help but notice that she was actually quite pretty. He shook the thought and put it somewhere where he wouldn't have to think about it.

The corn began to pop, startling him and he glanced away from MJ back to Ned.

"What are our choices tonight?"

"We have Fantastic Beasts, we could do Any Star Wars obviously, also Hercules snuck in probably my little brother put it in my bag, um, I have Back to the Future too."

MJ laughed. "I knew the two of you would be losers like this so I brought my own movies," she said and out of her bag brought out The Princess Bride and the new Ghostbusters because that felt like something the two of you might like.” She fixed them with a look.

Peter looked between the two them. "Anything is fine by me. You two can fight it out."

So began a long debate over what they could watch until they settled on The Princess Bride when Peter admitted he'd never seen it, but with the promise of watching Fantastic Beasts after.

Halfway through the movie, Peter felt his phone buzz and he pulled it out even after MJ shot him a glare.

"Sorry," Peter mouthed.

It was Natasha.

Black Widow: hey, kid, change of plans for training tomorrow. I'm going back to D.C.

Me: oh, alright. Is it to do with Cap and them returning? Will Mr. Stark be gone too?

Black Widow: yes. I think he's sticking around. Question: why don't you call him Tony?

Me: he's always just been Mr. Stark. It felt disrespectful to call him anything else and he hasn't exactly told me to call him by his first name so...

"Who are you even texting?" MJ asked in a whisper, "all your friends are here."

"Someone from my internship," Peter said.

She eyed him before turning back to the screen. When he looked at his phone again there was another text.

Black Widow: that's odd, he always corrects people. Maybe it's your age.

Me: hey! I'm not that young.

Black Widow: you can't drink or drive - you're young. A tiny spider. It's a good thing. See you when I get back, Spiderling.

Peter couldn't help the small smile as he put his phone away and tried to pay attention to the movie. MJ shot him a couple of glances from time to time, but seemed satisfied that he wasn’t distracted elsewhere. He actually became invested as Inigo Montoya and Westley began their sword fight. Peter couldn’t believe that he’d never seen the movie before. It really did have everything. Ned seemed to be enjoying it too despite his earlier protests.

- - -

Tony felt a bit annoyed with himself for not going with Natasha to Washington DC and yet at the same time he was glad to have stayed behind even if all it did was delay when he would end up seeing the others again. There was nothing to doubt that they were coming home and Tony actually had all their rooms cleaned and ready with everything they had left behind. He’d even put Cap’s shield scratch free right on Cap’s bed.

The only thing that was helping him not sit around wallowing was Peter and how easy he made it for Tony to just ignore his work in favor or hanging out with him or just simply getting some work done in the lab. For all that Peter was genius level smart, he was also still learning. He knew a lot already from his own research and from his own interest at school, but Tony found it refreshing when he had to explain something to him because Peter was quick to pick things up, but also because he just cared so much that Tony knew it wasn’t a waste to teach Peter anything.

Peter also didn’t seem keen on bringing up Steve or the others to him and Tony was grateful. He had enough with Rhodey and Pepper asking him how he was doing constantly. They were worried, he knew, but sometimes it felt overbearing. They also didn’t know the full story. They didn’t know that things were getting rushed because of Fury and because of a threat involving the infinity stones and aliens and space and so much that Tony didn’t want to think about.

So for the three long days, Tony was in the lab usually with Peter and Tony for the most part gave him free reign to pick anything that he might want to work on. For a while it was the Spider-Man suit and improving on the web, but eventually Peter wanted to know more about the arc reactor technology and Tony’s armor. It served a nice distraction until Natasha let him know that everything was going well and they were headed home. It happened faster than Tony had expected and without any of the fanfare that he’d expected.

It was barely covered in the news and Tony suspected that it was all on purpose. Natasha didn’t tell him when they would arrive, either, so Tony was alert for hours after Peter had been taken home by Happy when May demanded that she get see her nephew at least once in a while.

They arrived after midnight and Tony had almost made himself forget about all of it by getting distracted working on one of his cars.

He went out to meet them on the hangar and watched as Natasha got off the quinjet followed by Sam who nodded at Tony. Clint was next and he stepped out slowly and took a look around. It reminded Tony that Clint had only visited the compound once and that was before all the changes. He didn’t say anything, though. Wanda walked out with Steve and she looked every bit the young woman she was. In a way, her youth reminded Tony of Peter and how innocent he was except that he knew that unlike Peter, Wanda wasn’t all good. He didn’t know if it was her power – unnaturally attained through one of the infinity stones – or just who she was as a person, but Tony was aware that Wanda was dangerous, not fully trained, and that she was young but not a child.

Steve still had the beard. He was in civilian clothes, just jeans and a too tight t-shirt and Tony hated how good he looked.

“It’s good to be back,” he said.

Tony nodded slowly and he opened his arms. “Yes,” he said, “welcome back. All your rooms are exactly where you left them and how you left them. I’ve installed Friday here so if you need anything that’s who to ask. I guess that’s all. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

He turned and walked back into the main building and walked until he could get to the nearest elevator to go below to the workshop and back to his cars. It was easier than dealing with any kind of confrontation. Tony was happy to have them back, but he couldn’t help but worry about how well the team would do together after everything especially considering the current threat.

Tony wasn’t surprised when Natasha appeared in the workshop a few minutes later.

“I think that went well,” she said, “they’re settling in.”

“Ah, good,” Tony said, “I expect Cap probably wants everyone to train in the morning or something.”

Natasha smiled. “Probably. He didn’t say anything. He seemed more melancholic than anything.”

“It must be hard to have left his Bucky behind,” Tony said. He walked around the workshop, looking at the latest improvements to the suit that Peter had turned down because making it space proof was not enough. Tony was still making it better and improving upon it because he knew that when it came to the latest threat that nothing would keep Peter away and he was going to need to use the new suit if for nothing else than to make Tony worry less.

“Tony,” Natasha said and it sounded like a warning.

Tony looked at her then. “What?” He asked. “Am I supposed to pretend that he didn’t choose Bucky over…”

“Over you,” Natasha finished with a sad smile. “It’s more complicated than that and you know it.”

Tony did know, but he was also well aware that Steve had had multiple choices. That Tony had offered to help Bucky if he just signed and that Tony had meant it. Had wanted nothing else than to keep the team together Bucky and all but Steve had known about Tony’s parents and maybe that and his stubbornness had made him wary of putting his friend’s life in Tony’s hands. He hadn’t trusted Tony. He never did. If he had, then maybe he wouldn’t have lied to him.

“Well he’s signed them now,” Tony said, “and the team is back. It’s what the two of us wanted from the beginning. We just lost a lot to get to this point.”

“Yes,” Natasha said, “but it doesn’t mean we can’t get it all back. He wants – he needs to speak to you, Tony, and you need to speak with him.”

Tony didn’t know if he could. It had been one thing to see him in D.C. and another to seek him out and actually try and talk things through. Tony had never been the kind of person to do that.

“You’ll have to eventually, Tony,” Natasha said, “if we want this team to be remotely on the same page you’ll need to or it’ll be pointless to have us all together again.”

Tony had been thinking about it a lot and a part of him knew that she was right but another part of him also knew that in the end they might not need to be together but need to split up. If the stones were important then they would need to be split and they would need to guard them.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Tony hedged.

Natasha eyed him and then she shook her head.

- - -

There was only one tiny notice on the news about the return of Captain America and co. Peter despite knowing that it was happening just didn’t expect it when he heard the morning show anchor mention it almost as an aside before he moved on to cover something else.

“They’re back,” May said, “I guess that means you can hang up the spandex, Pete.”

Peter could tell that she said it with some hope and yet she didn’t look like she thought that Peter would actually do it.

“Those guys save the world, May,” Peter said, “I save the regular person.”

She sighed.

Peter hadn’t heard from Mr. Stark all day which he supposed was due to the return of the rest of The Avengers even if Peter knew that Mr. Stark was not necessarily thrilled about it. He pulled out his phone just to see if he’d missed any texts but aside from Ned texting him about chemistry and MJ sending him emoticons and random gifs there was nothing. Not even Natasha had sent anything.

“Well at least don’t do any saving until school’s out,” May said, “and let me know if Stark kidnaps you. I swear, you spend more time upstate than you do here.”

“He did give me a bedroom,” Peter responded as he got up and gathered his things for school. It was an odd morning when he actually had time for breakfast and with May no less.

May shook her head at him. “That doesn’t mean you have to use it more than the one you have here.” Still, she looked more amused than anything and Peter was well aware that while May worried she wouldn’t make him stop being Spider-Man.

May had always been lenient and understanding about nearly everything in a way that Peter supposed that normal parents weren’t. She worried, of course, and got especially more worried after Ben died, but it never stopped her from respecting that Peter was a person with opinions and choices and that she couldn’t control every minute of his life. Sometimes, it made Peter wonder if it was her way of trying to make up for the death of his parents and then later Ben.

School was the usual. Peter wasn’t really challenged by any of what they were learning and to top it off all everyone could talk about was the return of the Avengers. Ned had at least stopped asking if Peter had met any of them once he realized that Peter hadn’t and didn’t want to talk about it.

When his final class ended, Peter made quick work of getting to his locker, grabbing all the books he might need and then running out past all the other students to the front door. He wasn’t expecting to see Happy parked right outside and leaning against the Rolls Royce.

“What are you doing here, Happy?” Peter asked as he approached. “I mean, not that I’m not happy to see you because I am but I just didn’t expect you and Mr. Stark didn’t say anything and—”

Happy shook his head, a little exasperated, “Just get in the car, Parker.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Where are we going anyway?”

Happy walked around the car and got into the driver’s seat without an answer so Peter got into the back.

“Compound, kid,” Happy said and then, “let your aunt know you’ll be home late.”

Part Five

#fanfic #emquin fic #mcu fic #spider-man fic #peter parker #tony stark

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