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10692549	Vsia pravda o	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": null, "Fandom": null, "Language": "Русский", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by MellyMey, Ratnagar", "chapters": "14/14", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-21T00:00:00", "words": "21,699", "Additional Tags": "Interviews, Перевод на русский \| Translation in Russian", "Relationship": null, "Character": "all are mentioned", "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Neon Genesis Evangelion, Rebuild of Evangelion \| Evangelion: New Theatrical Edition", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Статья “Skill Up” из журнала Newtype (4 апреля 1995 г.) Интервью с режиссёром Хидеаки Анно Мы посетили студию GAINAX в конце января. В это время они занимались редактированием первых эпизодов «Евангелиона Нового Поколения». Интервью началось с того, что Хидеаки Анно сам задался вопросом, как он додумался о создании старомодного меха-аниме.«Среди прочих причин мы подумали, что было бы неплохо показать на ТВ меха-аниме, которое не спонсировала бы компания игрушек».Анно говорил, что наличие спонсора может повлиять на дизайн мехи, и они стараются сделать фильм, который будет полностью отличаться от классических образцов «меха-аниме».«Меха-аниме погрязло в стандартных шаблонах, и мы хотим из них вырваться».Анно говорил, что изначально проект не был рассчитан на успех, но при его реализации начал превращаться в действительно «хардкорное» меха-аниме.«Мы ещё не закончили сериал, но в первом и втором эпизодах должны быть отражены мои недавние «чувства» и «эмоции». Когда у меня получилось внести их в сценарий, я подумал: «Ох, отлично вышло».«Думаю, это станет ещё более культовым фильмом, чем «Надя», потому что больше работ с подобным «чувством» скорее всего не будет».Также у Анно, вовлечённого в эту работу, возникла мысль приблизительно следующего характера: «Например, мне было интересно, действительно ли счастливы любители мехи, которым уже за двадцать. Они ведь могли бы найти счастье в других местах, других жанрах. К сожалению, я в их счастье очень сомневаюсь».Главный герой аниме, Икари Синдзи, не изображён как «отаку», но с моей точки зрения [с точки зрения интервьюера — прим. пер.] он не показывает успешного старта в работе и может рассматриваться как зависимый от обстоятельств молодой человек.«Пока я работал над этим проектом, я пытался представить, каким может быть «счастье» для подобной личности». ° ° ° ° ° ° Манга Мания, 1998 (9 Апреля) В 1995 году Садамото в журнале Newtype рассказал, что подтолкнуло его добровольно взяться за работу над мангой.«Спустя четыре года после выпуска «Нади» я начал подумывать о том, что мне было бы интересно написать и распланировать мангу. Опыта в этой области у меня в то время не было, но я действительно хотел попробовать. Все хотели увидеть мои предыдущие работы или данные о продажах, но я ничем не мог доказать, что являюсь добросовестным автором манги».Приближающийся релиз нового сериала GAINAX дал Садамото шанс проявить себя. Несмотря на сомнения его коллег в GAINAX, он взял сценарии и раскадровки для эпизодов ТВ-сериала и начал издавать по ним мангу, сдавая по 24 страницы в месяц журналу Shonen Ace.«Когда я начал работать над мангой, мы написали сюжет всего для пяти или шести эпизодов, так что я плохо понимал, куда всё идёт. Мы даже не решили, в каком цвете будут Евангелионы, или как будет выглядеть кабина пилота! И хотя я, как дизайнер, хорошо знал большинство персонажей, мне нужно было погрузиться в остальную часть вселенной «Евангелиона», в создании которой я не принимал особого участия».По этой причине первые выпуски манги в основном повторяли сюжет ТВ-сериала. Однако Садамото уже начал вносить в мангу собственные идеи, акцентируя внимание на том, что могло быть упущено зрителями при просмотре ТВ-версии. Так, в манге во время атаки подводного ангела можно увидеть затонувшее здание студии GAINAX. Доктор Икари показан более чувствительным: версия Садамото позволяет ему облегчённо улыбнуться, когда Синдзи соглашается пилотировать Евангелион. Ранние эпизоды также были расставлены в хронологическом порядке, в отличие от аниме со флэшбеками, где первая битва Синдзи происходит в конце второго эпизода.«Конечно, я хотел внести в мангу столько, сколько мог, и хотел попробовать сделать её немного отличной от ТВ-версии. И если ТВ-сериалом руководили Хидеаки Анно и его студия, то манга это уже детище «Sadamoto Brand», потому что я целиком посвятил себя ей».Садамото заранее пришёл к выводу, что аниме-версия будет более успешной благодаря движению, цветным батальным сценам и большей концентрации на чувствах и мыслях персонажей. В связи с этим в манге внимание акцентируется на психологическом ущербе, причинённом пилотам, и экстра-сценах с Синдзи, который восстанавливается в больнице. Особенно примечательной считается серия снов, где к Синдзи приходит его мать и на его глазах превращается в ужасного Евангелиона. ° ° ° ° ° ° Журнал Newtype (январь 1995 г.) Разговор с создателями — Анно Хидеаки и Ёсиюки Садамото Интервьюер: По каким ещё причинам, кроме этих, вы хотели создать оригинальную в жанре работу?Анно: Конечно, хотел создать что-то для себя (смех). При работе над чем-то всегда есть личные мотивы. Пожалуй, больше и нечего добавить.Интервьюер: И всё же вы настаиваете, что главной причиной была оригинальность?Анно: Думаю, да. Так моя жизнь останется в этом фильме. ° ° ° ° ° ° Интервью с Хидеаки Анно для журнала JUNE (переведено Morgan Bauman) «Я хотел сделать Каору всеобщим любимцем, очень приятным персонажем. Чуть ли не таким, при виде которого Синдзи начал бы чувствовать себя покинутым»«Так как он [Каору-кун] – персонаж, который воплощает отсутствие всех комплексов Синдзи. Я как бы сделал этот образ небрежным, и он вышел непростым. Персонаж, который понравился всем».«На первых этапах он был милым мальчиком, который везде таскал с собой кошку. Название первой серии с ним было «Кошка и переведённый ученик». В нём бы рассказывалась история о новом ученике, который принёс с собой кошку, и так далее».«Пока мы прорабатывали сюжет, к 24-й серии мы в итоге отказались от концепта школы. Хотя всё-таки было бы неплохо включить его где-то между 11-й и 16-й сериями»._______Анно: Новый ученик с грохотом открывает дверь, с грохотом заходит и при этом обнимает кошку — думаю, смотрелось бы отлично. Проблематично было бы рисовать, если бы Каору как-то заставил кошку идти рядом с ним. Поэтому если бы он нёс её под мышкой… (смех)Интервьюер: Почему вы отказались от кошки?Анно: Потому что она действовала на нервы (смех)._______Анно: В первоначальном сценарии эти двое [Каору и Синдзи] голыми купались в реке (смех).Интервьюер: Средь бела дня?Анно: Может быть, и вечером.Интервьюер: Ночью при свете луны?Анно: Не знаю. Образ этих двоих, купающихся в реке, был очень красивым.Интервьюер: Версия эндинга «FLY ME TO THE MOON» с двумя мальчиками (смех)._______Интервьюер: Кто работал над 24 серией?Анно: Человек по имени Сацукава Акио. Сацукава-сан лучше разбирается… Нехорошо так говорить, но всё же – он всегда прав, когда речь заходит о гомосексуализме (смех).Интервьюер: Он хорошо разбирается в подобных видах мужской дружбы.Анно: Лучше меня, нет? (смех)_______Интервьюер: После этой серии, пожалуй, у всех мангак и писателей не замолкали телефоны и факсы, все спрашивали друг друга: «Они зашли настолько далеко ради нас?» Режиссёр, сценарий писали вы, так как же получилось, что Каору-кун сказал настолько откровенную фразу?Анно: Хм, как именно я это написал? Всё получилось совершенно естественно.Интервьюер: Естественно? (смех) Может, вы проводили какие-то исследования?Анно: Ничего подобного. Я не читаю журналы вроде JUNE [журнал, где публикуется BL-манга – прим. ред.].Интервьюер: Хорошо, спрошу иначе. Когда вы соблазняете кого-то, или когда соблазняют вас – как думаете, вам понравились бы такие слова? «Твоё сердце хрупкое, как стекло» – вам когда-нибудь говорили подобное?Анно: Нет, никогда.Интервьюер: В журнале Newtype вы сказали: «принимать ванну довольно приятно, не правда ли?»Анно: Да, думаю, это здорово.Интервьюер: Какой прямой ответ (смех)._______«Я подумываю о добавлении нескольких сцен. Мне казалось, что неплохо было бы сосредоточиться на истории Синдзи и Каору. Тем не менее, если у меня будет дополнительное время, я бы хотел только столкнуть Каору и Мисато».«Видите ли, Каору только случайно здоровается с Рей и разговаривает лишь с Синдзи, верно? Ему не нужны остальные люди, но есть персонаж, с которым я его не свёл, и это Мисато. Мне интересно, натянутой была бы их встреча, или нет».«Хотя я действительно не представляю, что в итоге окажется в этих дополнительных сценах»._______Интервьюер: Ранее вы говорили, что этот сюжет, напоминающий мангу из JUNE, или, скажем, тот вид произведений, где отношения выходят за рамки дружбы, получился у вас естественно – это так?Анно: Насколько я знаю, для таких парней подобное вполне нормально. Иначе, возможно, причина кроется во мне, в том, что у меня есть какие-то наклонности такого рода.Интервьюер: Интересная мысль (смех).Анно: Это неудивительно, ведь коллеги называют меня странным (смех)._______Интервьюер: Вы с самого начала планировали сделать Каору-куна последним ангелом?Анно: Хотя даже в опенинге он мелькает всего на двух кадрах.Интервьюер: Когда вы создавали опенинг, у вас были только эти изображения?Анно: Ну, в то время у Садамото были только черновые зарисовки. По сравнению с оригинальной версией их потом немного изменили.Интервьюер: Однако это не сказалось на его роли?Анно: Нет, не сказалось. Я подумывал сделать последнего ангела юношей, который будет похож на человека._______Интервьюер: Имя Каору Нагиса подходит даже девушке, верно?Анно: Но он юноша! В нём нет ничего женского, абсолютно. Это Синдзи и совершенно другой Синдзи. Так как Каору идеал Икари-куна, он просто не может быть девчонкой.Интервьюер: Вот как, понятно._______Интервьюер: Анно-сан, обычно над сценарием работаете вы и ещё один человек. Какого рода отношения у вас при этом складываются?Анно: Я уговорил его написать пилотный сценарий после нашего разговора и потом подготовил его к анимации. На тот момент мы писали сценарий для отправки [на ТВ – прим. ред.], и, надо сказать, вся история, драматизм, персонажи и прочие идеи, которые мы обсуждали на предыдущих встречах, к концу сценария начали терять однородность. Мы должны были всё поправить, и этим занялся я. Помог с драматической частью и прочим._______Интервьюер: Господин Анно, вы остановили Сацукаву-сана, когда он начал перегибать планку?Анно: Нет, ничего подобного. Атмосфера, созданная Сацукавой-саном, осталась в сценарии. Хотя его первоначальный сценарий содержал несколько больше откровенности, подходящей по стилю к журналу JUNE.Интервьюер: Например?Анно: В сценарии я всё-таки перенёс персонажей в купальню. Первоначально они оба купались голыми в реке (смех)._______Интервьюер: Были и другие такие сцены?Сато: Хм, у него была виолончель, верно?«Я буду играть на фортепьяно, а ты на виолончели!» Ночью в классе Каору начал играть первым, и потом, когда Синдзи поглядывал за ним, сказал: «Может, ты тоже на чём-нибудь играешь?» «В следующий раз давай сыграем вместе». В этом что-то определённо было. «Я попробую спеть, так что…»Анно: Что верно, то верно. Была сцена в актовом зале после эвакуации, когда там уже никого не осталось.________Интервьюер: Какова связь между Каору и музыкой, которая звучит между ним и Синдзи?Анно: Не думаю, что это можно выразить словами. Это точно такая же связь, как когда он впервые появился.Интервьюер: Синдзи ведь тоже играет на виолончели и даже сыграл на ней однажды, верно? Или же это был некий вариант самолечения?Анно: Нет, я не знаю. Это идея сценаристов. Персонаж просто выражал свои чувства и эмоции благодаря игре на виолончели._______Интервьюер: Читатели JUNE будут очень довольны. Как я и рассчитывала (смех). Однако когда я думаю о том, как вы пошли на подобный шаг и создали таких прелестных героев, мне кажется, это было чересчур жестоко. Я имею в виду факт, что вы сделали его [Каору-куна] Ангелом, показали его всего в одном эпизоде и затем убрали из сюжета. Благодаря вам я с нетерпением жду будущий Комикет [ярмарка комиксов, ориентированная на творчество начинающих мангак – прим. ред.]Сато: Поговаривают, что до этого все считали, что «Тодзи семе, а Синдзи уке» (смех). Я слышал, что теперь всё иначе.Анно: Похоже, о Тодзи все позабыли и повернулись к Каору-куну._______Интервьюер: Конечно, читатели JUNE хотят увидеть, как они вместе играют на фортепьяно и виолончели. И удалённые сцены купания в реке тоже. Однако сцена в купальне могла быть более эротичной. Купание в реке на открытом воздухе вроде как более натуралистично, не так ли?Сато: Тем не менее, хоть я не разбираюсь в таких вещах, мне кажется, что двое голых парней, купающихся ночью в реке и говорящих друг другу что-то вроде «Здесь никого нет, только лунный свет», гораздо больше похожи на этих… ну, вы понимаете (смех). А двое голых парней в купальне вполне нормальное явление, в конце концов (смех).Анно: Ага, полностью голые, да?Сато: «Тебе тоже стоит поплавать» и «Кто-нибудь может подсматривать», и так далее, мы словно попадаем в мир Ривера Феникса.Интервьюер: И правда. Но вот интересно, что предпочитаем мы, женщины? Если посмотреть на результаты голосования в JUNE, сцена в купальне, где они вдвоём, набрала больше всего голосов.Анно: Ну, когда речь идёт о мужских купальнях, можно сказать, что это мир, в который вы не можете заглянуть, и это придаёт ему атмосферу запретной территории. Однако независимо от того, что вы думаете, это всё же общественная купальня (смех).Сато: Разве не здорово? Это реалистично._______Интервьюер: А что насчёт игры слов с кандзи в shisha (проповедник/посланник Христа) и nagisa?Анно: Вся ответственность на Сацукаве-сане. Мы предварительно обсуждали, стоит ли связывать имя с водой или океаном. Имя «Каору» выбрал именно Сацукава-сан.Интервьюер: Означает ли это, что термин shisha может быть перефразирован как shito (покойник)?Анно: Хм, да, в какой-то степени и в определённых обстоятельствах.Интервьюер: Есть ли игра слов в термине shisha, когда он ссылается на умерших людей?Анно: Да, есть.Интервьюер: Получается, что Синдзи всё же живое существо, тогда как Каору-кун мертвец?Анно: Да. При трактовке катаканы и кандзи можно выйти на множество различных значений._______Интервьюер: Сейю Каору-куна, Исида Акира-сан, был очень хорош, не так ли?Анно: Согласен, Исида-кун хорош.Интервьюер: Он придерживался атмосферы, верно? Давали ли вы Исиде-сану какие-то советы вроде «делай вот так» и всё такое?Анно: Что я советовал? Говорил быть мягче, осторожней, и этого оказалось достаточно. На первых пробах его образ был немного иным. После второй попытки, когда я сказал, как он должен звучать, всё было как надо, как и должно было быть. Когда мы записывались по-настоящему, он сыграл великолепно. Несмотря на то, что не было никаких изображений [Каору] и Исида-сан никогда не смотрел наш сериал, он действительно со всем справился – вот что я думал._______«Я, пожалуй, перестал понимать Каору-куна, так что не могу не учитывать то, что мог ошибиться. Он достаточно странный парень (смех)».«Его образ немного другой. Исида-кун дал этому персонажу невероятно хороший голос, так что я начал думать, что сам недостаточно его развил». ° ° ° ° ° ° Заметки на обложке диска. Ч. 4 Сейю — Миямура Юко Режиссёр Анно: Хэй, какие плюшевые игрушки вы любите?Миямура: Обезьян (знак сердца).[Заметка: плюшевая кукла-обезьяна Аски — персонаж, написанный Миямурой Юко до Евы и её «фишка», которая появляется во многих её работах и иногда служит как автограф]. ° ° ° ° ° ° Джордж Чен прочитал в «Проектной работе Евангелиона» (Evangelion Design Work), что г-н Анно попросил каждого члена своей команды написать, каким должен быть конец сериала, и в «Проектном артбуке» (Design Book) Ямашита Икуто (главный дизайнер мех) напечатал своё мнение. К слову, г-н Анно попросил об этом, чтобы определиться с направлением собственного варианта концовки. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- «Virtual Panel! Встречайте Хидеаки Анно», журнал Animerica Об уникальном дизайне «Евангелионов» АННО: В японской мифологии существуют демоны Они, у которых из голов торчат два рога. На них и основан общий вид «Евы». Мне также хотелось, чтобы в чудовищном роботе скрывался человек. То есть на самом деле это не робот, а гигантский человек. Поэтому «Евангелионы» отличаются от других роботов жанра «меха», например, от тех же «Гандамов».В альтернативном будущем «Ганбастера»… они находятся под властью России? АННО: Там Японская Империя. В 2000 году между США и Японией была война, и Япония оккупировала Гавайи. Извините.О решении выполнить финальный эпизод «Ганбастера» в чёрно-белых тонах АННО: Когда у вас есть цвет, у вас есть дополнительное измерение информации. Цвет мешал бы осознанию масштаба, который мы хотели изобразить с помощью эффекта чёрной дыры. Кроме того, никто никогда не делал этого прежде.О дне 2015 года, который фигурирует и в «Ганбастере», и в «Евангелионе» АННО: Дата из старого шоу, которое я любил в детстве. Также это год, в котором происходили события «Астробоя».О создателях аниме, которые вдохновили его АННО: За исключением тех людей, с которыми я работаю, это г-н Ёсиюки Томино. Мои самые любимые его аниме: «Мобильный воин Гандам» и «Легендарный Бог-гигант Идеон», не считая «Космический линкор Ямато». И Хаяо Миядзаки, с которым я работал над «Навсикая из Долины ветров» – прорисовывал сцены атак Титана. Также он был моим наставником.О том, как главный герой «Евангелиона» отражает самого Анно АННО: Синдзи действительно отражает мой характер как сознательно, так и бессознательно. В процессе создания «Евангелиона» я понял, какой я человек. Я признал, что я дурак.О его религиозных убеждениях АННО: Я не исповедую какую-либо религию, так что, думаю, меня можно считать агностиком. Японский спиритизм утверждает, что есть kami (дух) во всём, и это, наверное, ближе всего к моей вере.О том, является ли он вегетарианцем, как Надя и Рей АННО: Мне нравится тофу. Я просто не люблю есть мясо или рыбу. С религией это никак не связано.О самовыражении через анимацию АННО: Люди понимают смысл анимации, только когда её смотрят. Поэтому когда мои темы сбивают людей с толку или не находят у них смысловой отклик, связь между нами теряется, потому что им это не нравится. Следовательно, люди не поймут анимацию до конца. Так что должна быть связь между зрителем и репликой персонажа анимации.Об успехе «Евангелиона» АННО: Что касается всего мерчендайзинга – это всего лишь вопрос экономики. Странно, что «Евангелион» оказался успешным. Все в нём больные!О его следующем проекте АННО: Другой ТВ-сериал, возможно, что-то похожее на космическое приключение.О будущем аниме-индустрии АННО: Создатели аниме должны изменить своё отношение к индустрии, чтобы развиваться дальше. И в современной Японии это звучит не слишком оптимистично. Прямо сейчас индустрия находится в критическом состоянии. Я не вижу никакого светлого будущего. Потому что люди, создающие аниме, плохо с этим справляются. Но есть проблемы и в самих зрителях. Они всегда хотят одного и того же. Многие делали похожие, неактуальные вещи последние десять лет. Чтобы продвинуться, нужно заставить людей выйти за рамки дозволенного.О его хобби и интересах АННО: Моё хобби – подводное плавание, и, помимо научной фантастики, мне нравится читать любовные романы, написанные женщинами. Так как я мужчина, мне действительно непонятны женские эмоции. К тому же я хочу понимать их чувства и создавать более реалистичных женских персонажей – это то, чему я должен научиться.Американскому фанату, который хвастался тем, что потратил все свои деньги на аниме-товары вместо учебников АННО: Ты дурак. Учись усердней. Если бы я мог вернуться в прошлое и имел возможность что-то сказать себе-студенту, я бы сказал то же самое.О том, куда бы он хотел съездить АННО: Я хочу увидеть Вселенную, космос – это одно из тех мест, которое я бы хотел посетить, пока ещё живой. Когда я был ребёнком… Я думал, что, повзрослев, полечу в космос. Но сейчас это невозможно. Хотя я хотел бы посетить Луну или прокатиться на космическом корабле.О заинтересованности в аниме-индустрии АННО: Если вы хотите заниматься аниме, мой лучший совет вам, как создателям – пожалуйста, разнообразьте интересы. Прежде всего, интересуйтесь окружающим вас миром. Большинство создателей аниме страдают аутизмом. Они должны пытаться выбраться из своего затворничества и общаться с другими людьми. Я думаю, что самая лучшая вещь, которая была достигнута в аниме – факт того, что мы можем вести диалог прямо здесь и сейчас.О его отношении к Пен-Пену АННО: Пен-Пен был творением Садамото, чтобы смягчить атмосферу. Но я часто забывал о его существовании.О его любимом персонаже «Евангелиона» АННО: Я бы сказал Аска. Она милая.Когда ему сказали, что американская публика предпочитает Мисато АННО: Я удивлён. В Японии подавляющее большинство людей любит Рей. Они не знают, как вести себя с такими сильными женщинами, как Мисато и Аска. ° ° ° ° ° ° Карл Хорн об Anime Expo ’96 Это был одностраничный транскрипт комментариев Хидеаки Анно на Anime Expo 1996 г. Сегодня в это сложно поверить, но на тот момент (июль 1996 г.) прошло уже два месяца с выпуска сериала, однако многие американцы ещё его не видели. Не потому, что они не хотели его смотреть, просто не существовало системы распространения аниме в цифровой форме, как пиратской, так и лицензированной – у вас была возможность увидеть аниме, только достав копию видеокассеты. Это ограничивало скорость, с которой могла вырасти аудитория, и, конечно, версия ADV ещё не появилась на рынке. Анно сказал несколько фраз на «Anime Expo» 96-ого года, которые хорошо запомнились. Наиболее интересным был его ответ, когда я спросил о последних двух эпизодах «Евангелиона», расстроивших многих фанатов. Анно спокойно сказал: «У меня с ними нет никаких проблем. Если они и есть, то это только ваши личные проблемы, ребята. Очень жаль». Я не совсем уверен (возможно, это в моих заметках транскрипта), но я думаю, Анно сказал «очень жаль» на английском («too bad»), видимо, для выразительности. ° ° ° ° ° ° «Мир грёз, который не лишился своей цели», Анно Хидеаки, Ghibli ga Ippai Liner Notes (Август 1996 г.) У людей очень много мучительных причин, чтобы продолжать жить в реальности.Поэтому люди убегают и прячутся в мечтах. Они смотрят фильмы, как развлечение.Если режиссёр того желает, в фильм может быть добавлен даже злой умысел по отношению к другим. Думаю, это как раз особенно привлекательно в аниме. Превращать тяготы реальности в мечты и преподносить их людям… разве не в этом заключается наша работа? Ради людей, забывающих о реальности, пока не приходят счета, и желающих посвятить себя счастливому самообману. Полагаю, именно это является нашей задачей в индустрии развлечений и секторе услуг.Одна из отличительных особенностей работ студии «Гибли» – даже если присутствуют навязчивые поступки, существуют вещи, которые не утратили свою цель. Утрата цели ведёт к отчаянию, и это болезнь, которая может привести к фатальному исходу. Интересно, знакомы ли Мия-сан и его сотрудники с этим чувством отчаяния? Возможно, они не хотят показывать страдания другим людям. Мне кажется, они в частности не хотят показывать негативные вещи, как ненависть к самому себе и комплексы остальных людей. Вот почему в работах студии «Гибли» не показывают ничего, кроме поверхностного счастья и репродукции реальности, исключая все неприятные детали. Вымысел, имитирующий реальность, и ничего более, кроме мира грёз. Полагаю, это и есть управление индустрией развлечений.Когда я помогал в качестве аниматора с «Навсикая из Долины ветров», Мия-сан часто говорил мне кое-что. По-моему, это принадлежит одному китайскому мудрецу и гласит: «Есть три условия для любого достижения. Будь молодым, будь бедным и будь неизвестным». И «Вопреки всему – заводи друзей». Так меня учили. Это было более чем двенадцать лет назад. Да, я знаю Мия-сана приблизительно двенадцать лет. Мне кажется, в то время Мия-сан достиг многого. Но он также и многое потерял.P.S. Вчера, когда я был совершенно разбит после завершения последней работы [«Надя»], меня глубоко тронул обнадёживающий телефонный звонок. Обеспокоенные слова от получателя превратились в радость с улыбкой на лице, вся моя сущность ликовала. Втайне я радовался получению некоторого признания себя. Благодарю вас от всего сердца. ° ° ° ° ° ° Из журнала Newtype (переведено Miyako Graham) «Евангелион», знаете, является своего рода загадкой. Любой человек может увидеть её и попытаться разгадать. Другими словами, мы предлагаем зрителям подумать самим, так, чтобы каждый мог представить свой собственный мир. Мы никогда не предоставим ответов даже в театральной версии. Возможно, большинство зрителей «Евангелиона» ждут, что им предложат пособие «Всё о Еве», но такого не случится. Не ждите от кого-то ответов. Не ждите, что вас будут всегда обслуживать. Мы должны сами найти свои собственные ответы».«Евангелион» – моя жизнь, и я поместил всё, что я знаю, в эту работу. Это вся моя жизнь. Моя жизнь в своей сути».Анно рассказал фанатам, что делает другую версию эпизодов двадцать пять и двадцать шесть, где в конце две героини (Мисато и Рицуко) умирают.«Я действительно считаю, что секс и насилие являются частью нашей жизни. В нынешней Японии, мне кажется, детям нужно больше рассказывать об этих вещах вместо того, чтобы опекать обществом. Такие вопросы как яд – его нужно понемногу давать детям, чтобы выработать у них иммунитет. После этого у них появится сила духа и возможность сопротивляться. Насколько я знаю, такого иммунитета нет у большинства молодёжи, и когда случится что-то ужасное, они не смогут с этим справиться. В каком-то смысле яд может быть и лекарством, и я верю – чем больше мы будем осведомлены, тем лучше сможем себя защитить».Далее Анно объяснил, почему среди японских фанатов Рей – самый популярный персонаж.«Рей-чан очень популярна… Мне кажется, она очень тихая, не любит много разговаривать и не жалуется. Полагаю, в Японии такие девушки особенно желанны. Они тихие, терпеливые и усердно работают. Что касается самой Рей-чан – она была создана пилотировать Евангелион… Другими словами, она – клон человека. Обычно, когда мы рождаемся, мы появляемся на свет, не имея определённой цели! Позже мы находим смысл жизни, выбираем свой собственный путь и решаем, как нам жить. Ситуация с Рей-чан немного другого характера. Она была создана только с одной единственной целью – быть пилотом Евы, и я не совсем уверен, что она счастлива». ° ° ° ° ° ° Интервью c Хидеаки Анно, журнал Newtype (ноябрь, 1996 г.) Раньше у меня не было интереса к психологии. Я прошёл только один курс психологии в университете, но, полагаю, мне всегда хотелось анализировать человеческую сущность. Я думал, что не особо интересовался людьми, но когда начал говорить о себе, понял, что мне нужно объяснять своё состояние словами. Поэтому я стал читать книги по психологии. После шестнадцатого эпизода история «Евангелиона» стала затрагивать тему человеческого разума, о том, что он из себя представляет. Я писал о себе. Мой друг дал мне книгу про психологические заболевания, и меня это шокировало, словно я наконец-то нашёл то, что мне было необходимо сказать.Недавно некоторые люди начали смотреть «Евангелион» из-за финала в эпизодах двадцать пять и двадцать шесть. Они не были фанатами аниме. По правде говоря, многие из них были девушками, и они сказали, что действительно получили удовольствие от двадцать пятого эпизода. Большинство фанатов аниме в ярости. Я понимаю их гнев. Но когда хардкорные фанаты аниме заявляют, что мы выполнили очень паршивую работу и специально небрежно, я с трудом сдерживаю смех. Нет, ничего подобного. Никто из сотрудников не выполнил паршивую работу. Мне грустно, что те фанаты не смогли увидеть наших стараний. Лично я считаю, что первоначальная ТВ-версия, которую мы показали, закончилась прекрасно. ° ° ° ° ° ° Цитата Хидеаки Анно (переведено Numbers-kun) Я действительно ненавижу факт, что анимация, или, по крайней мере, «Евангелион» – как и все мои работы – стали только «убежищем». Всего лишь местом, куда сбегают от реальности, глубоко в него погружаясь. Люди просто-напросто избегают боли, а оттуда почти никак не вернуться к реальности. В этом смысле я чувствую, что работа ни до кого не достучалась. Постепенно людей, которые находят в нём убежище, становится всё больше, и если это продолжится, в крайнем случае, это станет религией. Будет такая же ситуация, как со сторонниками «Аум Синрикё» и Сёко Асахары. Возможно, если бы я сделал всё правильно, я бы смог стать основателем новой религии, но я ненавижу эту идею. Чтобы ухватиться за соломинку, достаточно одного человека. ° ° ° ° ° ° Интервью с Хидеаки Анно (переведено Numbers-kun) [Нозоми Омори – критик и переводчик] Омори: Тем не менее, г-н Рю Мицусэ [прим. пер. — японский писатель] больше придерживается восточной идеологии быстротечности вещей, тогда как мир «Евангелиона» скорее следует по стопам западной цивилизации…Анно: Я не люблю западную цивилизацию. У меня нет к ней особого доверия.Омори: То есть вы считаете, что от этого нужно отказаться? Никаких позитивных…Анно: Нет, скорее потому, что мне нет до этого особого дела, я могу это только использовать. Если бы я был верующим христианином, я бы не смог вставить христианские элементы в «Еву». Мне бы было страшно.Омори: Вопросов больше нет. Так как у вас нет никакой привязанности к христианству, вы можете использовать имена ангелов, не особо беспокоясь. Вы используете эти имена, потому что они, например, производят сильное впечатление. И вы можете их использовать, когда считаете это необходимым.Анно: Даже если бы я получал жалобы от жителей Запада по поводу одинаковости «ангела» и «Апостола», не думаю, что что-то изменилось бы. У нас есть один американец в компании, и он ругал меня по поводу разных вещей. «Вы не можете этого сделать». Как я и ожидал. Но я всё равно сделал всё именно так, как хотел, не обращая на это внимания. ° ° ° ° ° ° Интервью с Хидеаки Анно для журнала JUNE [22 августа 1996 г.]; (переведено Numbers-kun) Интервьюер: Четырнадцатый эпизод довёл до слёз Ноби-сан [прим. пер. — заведующая мангой]. Как вы сочинили монолог Рей?Анно: Я собирался вкратце повторить все серии в первой половине эпизода. Когда я делал вторую часть, то совсем забыл, что из себя представляет Рей, поэтому было необходимо её развить.Сценарий для шестнадцатого эпизода уже давно был написан. Сначала я планировал «первый контакт» между Синдзи и Ангелом, но не смог добиться желаемого результата.В первоначальной концепции на экране раздаются иностранные языки, крики различных животных и другие звуки. Выбрав что-то одно, Ангел, наконец, распознаёт японский язык. Когда это происходит, появляется пронзительный звук, и весь экран занимает изображение: Ангел спрашивает Синдзи, правильно ли это для его языка мышления или образа мышления – отсюда бы всё и началось.Интервьюер: Это действительно круто.Анно: Пока что я думал, что всё нормально, но когда Ангел начинает говорить на японском, моя концепция заканчивается. С самого начала Каору-кун был создан как человек, и я хотел придерживаться идеи, где Ангел не беседует на человеческом языке до момента с Каору. Когда я задумался, что будет делать Синдзи после столкновения с Ангелом, я подумал, что, возможно, это его шанс для рефлексии. «Гидрасфера» с шестнадцатого эпизода стала его первым шансом. Всё прошло довольно гладко.Когда дело дошло до Рей, я был в полной растерянности. Вообще ничего не мог написать. Планировал сделать Рей шизофреничкой, но когда попытался написать, ничего не смог придумать – абсолютный ноль. В итоге я сообразил, что если нужно описать шизофрению, остаётся только самому таким стать. Поэтому я посоветовался с друзьями. Попросил произведения, где автор сам шизофреник, и мне одолжили книгу «Bessatsu Takarajima» про психические заболевания. Это была «лёгкая и разумная» книга (смех). В ней было стихотворение, которое написал сумасшедший. Это было великолепно. Прочитав стихотворение, я остался под впечатлением, будто в первый раз приблизился к цели. У меня было ощущение, словно заблестел кончик острого ножа. Это точно не было чувством здорового человека – что хорошо. Если так подумать, то эта «способность» была уже внутри меня (смех). Странно верить, что творение сумасшедшего – творчество самого высокого качества. Читая стихотворение, я представлял себе образы и был в состоянии написать монолог Рей на одном дыхании.Кто-то утверждал, что монолог был основан на другом тексте, но на самом деле всё не совсем так. Было кое-что, что вдохновляло, но это совсем другое. Утверждали, что монолог сильно напоминает чужое стихотворение и, скорее всего, является плагиатом, но «Ай ладно, этот человек, видимо, тоже псих» (смех). Кажется, стихотворение было популярным. Сумев написать кое-что, очень похожее на оригинал, я приходил к мысли: «У меня тоже есть талант?» (смех). * * * Анно: Когда закончился эфир телесериала, моё состояние стало ухудшаться, и я пошёл к врачу. Я даже всерьёз задумывался о смерти. Словно я был пуст, без смысла своего существования. Без всякого преувеличения, я вложил всё, что я знаю, в «Евангелион». Серьёзно. После окончания работы я осознал, что во мне ничего не осталось. Когда я спросил об этом у доктора, он сказал: «Ах, это личностный кризис». Было такое ощущение, словно я попробовал какой-то некачественный ЛСД. Мне сказали: «Удивительно, что вы были в состоянии сделать это без медикаментов». Да, сейчас я чувствую, что мне очень повезло (смех). Чтобы понять, хочу ли я действительно умереть, я вышел на крышу студии GAINAX и выставил с неё одну ногу в ожидании потери равновесия и падения. Я сделал это, чтобы определиться в себе. Если я действительно хочу умереть – я должен умереть там, а если не хочу, то сделаю шаг назад. Ну, это не привело к моей смерти, поэтому я здесь.Поначалу это был маниакальный аффект, но он быстро развился в тяжёлую депрессию. Я не покидал своё рабочее место, уходил только для того, чтобы помыться, и редко кушал. Возникла вдруг дилемма: я не хотел видеться с другими людьми, но в тоже время и хотел.Я не возвращался домой, потому что меня тяготили нужные для этого время и усилия. Всё время оставался ночевать в офисе, за весь год я был дома всего несколько раз. На работе мне приходилось сталкиваться с людьми, когда я шёл умываться. Как-то мне захотелось побыть одному, и вот я впервые за несколько месяцев вернулся домой. Моя кровать никогда не застелена, поэтому мне не оставалось ничего другого, кроме как на неё лечь. Когда я разделся и лёг, в мою голову стали приходить только ужасные мысли, было ощущение, словно эти мысли окутали всё моё тело. Я резко вскочил и в панике начал одеваться, схватил сумку и вышел на улицу, крича: «Такси!» Вернувшись в офис, я заснул. Это и есть «личностный кризис». У меня нет чувства, что я хочу умереть или что-то в этом роде. Нет ничего, что я хотел бы сказать. С другой стороны, вот настолько серьёзно я воспринимал «Евангелион».Интервьюер: Интересно, почему людям так нужен смысл их существования. Отсутствие смысла жизни вызывает беспокойство.Анно: Думаю, для людей более свойственно быть обеспокоенными. Мне кажется, счастье не что иное, как иллюзия. ° ° ° ° ° ° Интервью с Хидеаки Анно для журнала AnimeLand (переведено Pierre Giner) AnimeLand: Японская анимация стала популярной в Европе, но её также критикуют по многим причинам, например, за содержание или графический стиль. Что вы об этом думаете?Хидеаки Анно: Изначально, и даже сейчас, японская анимация – продукт потребления, созданный для японского общества. Действительно забавно видеть успех анимации заграницей, но я думаю, что у всех фанатов одинаковые вкусы. Анимация – это универсальный язык.AnimeLand: Получали ли вы какие-нибудь жалобы из-за использования христианских идей в вашей работе? Ангелы должны олицетворять что-то хорошее, милосердное, чего не скажешь об Ангелах «Евангелиона».Хидеаки Анно: Я не знаком со многими понятиями в христианстве и не намерен к ним приближаться или критиковать. Разве не там Люцифер был ангелом до того, как стал павшим?AnimeLand: Представьте, что европейская компания решила приобрести права на «Евангелион» и изменить пару сцен по религиозным причинам. Вы согласитесь на цензуру этих сцен?Хидеаки Анно: Не знаю, будет зависеть от обстоятельств. В конце концов, эти серии были сделаны для японской аудитории.AnimeLand: Американская и европейская анимация, кажется, всё больше и больше зажата согласно их законам и кодексам дисциплины, в то время как японская анимация предлагает больше взрослых тем и персонажей. Вам не кажется, что противоречия и проблемы, с которыми сталкивается японская анимация, исходят из этого?Хидеаки Анно: На самом деле я думаю, что некоторая цензура необходима, но это не нормально, что нам должен приказывать обычный здравомыслящий человек. Не думаю, что вы далеко уйдёте на принципах благополучия и защиты детей.AnimeLand: Насилие, кажется, более допустимо для этих людей, чем упоминание секса. Не кажется ли вам, что это к худшему?Хидеаки Анно: Правовой контекст, очевидно, отличается между странами и эпохами. Единственная универсальная константа – жажда людей к сексу и насилию. Мы должны попытаться управлять этим, не попадая в другую крайность и промывание мозгов. Фильмы чрезвычайно влиятельны и сильны, особенно в качестве пропагандистских инструментов.AnimeLand: Что касается вас, GAINAX давал вам свободу или вы были ограничены?Хидеаки Анно: Нет, GAINAX просмотрела мой проект и сказала: «Хорошо, у вас есть карт-бланш». Я никогда ничем не ограничивался, кроме, возможно, денег и времени.AnimeLand: Какие ваши следующие проекты после двух фильмов по «Евангелиону»?Хидеаки Анно: Признаюсь, я не особо об этом задумывался в последнее время, но у меня уже есть кое-какие задумки. После августа и после заслуженного отпуска я начну серьёзно над этим работать.AnimeLand: Спасибо, г-н Анно. ° ° ° ° ° ° Интервью с Хидеаки Анно для журнала Newtype, июньский выпуск (переведено Claude J. Pelletier) Анно сделал пару интересных замечаний по поводу интернет-фанатов, которые чересчур сильно критикуют сериал.«Мне кажется люди, которые зависимы от Интернета, имеют очень узкий взгляд на жизнь и мир. Они всегда сидят в своих комнатах и редко выходят на улицу, чтобы общаться. Благодаря информации в Интернете они думают, что знают всё, не поискав реальной истины. Они легко и анонимно говорят то, что никогда не скажут лично. Их сообщения похожи на граффити в общественном туалете. Они нападают на других, пока сами остаются в безопасном месте. У них нет ничего, за что можно ухватиться… Видимо, поэтому они и смотрят аниме. Мне бы хотелось ещё кое-что сказать этим фанатам – эй, выходите на улицу и посещайте разные города. Мне уже тридцать пять, и я постепенно понимаю важность человеческого общения…» ° ° ° ° ° ° Есть особенная вещь, которую Синдзи делает со своим супер-плеером DAT уже во втором эпизоде «Евангелиона»: он постоянно переключает 25 и 26 треки – числа последних двух эпизодов – и когда вышли эти два эпизода, они были, несомненно, самыми спорными эпизодами аниме в недалёком прошлом. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Комментарии сейю Мегуми Огата Синдзи Икари \| Дата рождения: 6 июня 1965Впервые я увидела его осенью, три года назад. Опрятная школьная форма, чистые коротко-стриженые волосы – он выглядел как обычный мальчик, которого можно встретить где угодно… Если вы откроете окно прямо сейчас, вы увидите, как его копия идёт по улице и смеётся с друзьями. (Сначала мне было интересно, на что будет похожа эта история). «Этот ребёнок действительно собирается спасти мир?» – вот о чём я думала.Синдзи – обычный парень, которого можно найти где угодно. Как мог он отреагировать на неожиданную, ненормальную ситуацию? Как могли его душа и тело не дрожать от страха? Я пыталась понять это, как всегда делала при озвучивании других персонажей, но затем остановилась. Решила, что буду плыть по волнам этой истории. Буду грести медленно, иногда против течения, иногда по течению. Плыть естественно, без чего-либо постороннего.Просто я, как я есть.Иногда я чувствовала отвращение, когда держала сценарий. И была шокирована при осознании, что эта ненависть была в адрес частички меня самой. Боль, когда я один за другим сдирала струпья со своего сердца. Страх сломаться. Неприятие, отчаяние, удовольствие, восхищение, отвращение… Всё было настолько реальным – всё было живым. Такой стриптиз смущал меня больше, чем настоящее снятие одежды. Три года, во время которых я определённо встретила «себя».Когда история подошла к концу, я думала, что смогу взглянуть на неё более объективно, но так и не смогла. Потому что она всё ещё продолжалась: потому что я жива, потому что люди, которых я люблю, живы. Поэтому я, безусловно, буду переживать её снова и снова, задыхаясь в мире людей. Глупые стремления – и погоня за неотразимой любовью…Я люблю людей. 19 июня, 1997 – Посвящается моему отцу в день его рождения. * * * Котоно Мицуиси Мисато Кацураги \| Дата рождения: 8 декабря 1967Я действительно счастлива, что встретила её. Мисато Кацураги было тяжело озвучивать даже во время телесериала, потому что она человек, которому нелегко говорить о своих истинных чувствах. В сценах, где её эмоции взрывались и она изливала душу, я тоже становилась излишне эмоциональной и после не могла точно вспомнить, как именно сработала (что не очень хорошо). Мои руки дрожали, и я собирала всю волю в кулак, чтобы мой сценарий, который я держала, не шуршал и не шумел (в такие моменты я думаю, что озвучивание немного несовершенно). Я так долго фокусировалась на Мисато, желала узнать её, подобраться к ней ближе, сосредоточить все свои пять чувств на ней. Я всегда так делаю и поэтому после завершения озвучивания не могу объективно смотреть на «Еву». Я смотрю на неё глазами Мисато, но мне кажется, это нормально. В двадцать пятом эпизоде «Air» она показала себя сильной, храброй, истинной женщиной. Единственная выжившая после Второго удара пятнадцатью годами ранее; крест на её шее – память об её отце. Интересно, только я считаю, что она выжила, чтобы передать крест Синдзи?Этот крест действительно тяжело носить.Мои прощальные слова для Мисато: «Умница, спасибо. Я люблю тебя». * * * Мегуми Хаяшибара Рей Аянами \| Дата рождения: 30 марта 1967Может быть, копаться в психике другого человека очень рискованно. Чем больше ты пытаешься узнать о ней, тем чаще замечаешь её бесконечную глубину. Можно узнать совсем немного и получить удовольствие, но нам никогда не стать такими же. Ты никогда не сможешь полностью понять чужое сердце (в конце концов, мы не знаем даже самих себя).Однако эта работа не бесполезная, её нельзя назвать неблагодарной. Пытаться понять и приблизиться к другим – это чудесно. Я думаю, что «желание» понять отличается от «чувств» того, кого пытаешься понять. Поэтому не стоит делать это «хорошо». Чем больше ты нестабилен, тем больше беспокоишься о других людях, о том, что они о тебе думают. Но это нормально, так как ты – это ты. Что бы ты ни видел, слышал или, скажем, ел – только ты волен решать, что ты принимаешь, а что отрицаешь. Живёшь ли ты пышной жизнью, или ищешь удовольствия, которые зависят от тебя самого. От нас зависят и глубокое счастье и тихое счастье. Глубоко в моём сердце у меня есть тихое, стойкое, неописуемое и невидимое «место», где я встречаюсь с собой и подтверждаю, что да, «я хочу жить». Однако это не значит, что я хочу навязать свой жизненный путь или рассказать, как он чудесен. Я просто встречаюсь с собой. Я отличаюсь от других людей, но именно поэтому хочу быть похожей на них, хочу делать что-то, как они (как в проекте комплементации?). Как-то я даже пыталась навязать свою волю другим, говорила, что что-то должно быть сделано именно так. Я чувствую, что такое желание допустимо, но в действительности так поступать не стоит. В конце концов, это принуждение. С другой стороны, быть похожими друг на друга – приятно. Очень удобно, когда рядом есть другой человек, которого ты хорошо узнал и которого чувствуешь. Я хотела бы познакомиться со многими людьми таким образом. В заключение хочу сказать, что взяла от «Евы» многое.Спасибо, спокойной ночи, и запомните – то, что ты видите – это не всё. * * * Юко Миямура Аска Ленгли Сорью \| Дата рождения: 4 декабря 1972«Евангелион» наконец-то достиг финала… Поздравляю всех с отлично выполненной работой. Нет, правда, спасибо вам огромное. Двадцать четыре года назад я появилась на свет в Кобе, и, конечно, даже адмирал объединённого флота Исороку Ямамото или Нострадамус не смогли бы предсказать, что я буду задействована в проекте «Евангелион». Популярность «Евангелиона» неудержима, она как атака на Перл-Харбор. Я уверена, что каждый фанат «Евы» при просмотре последней серии почувствует, как его японский дух запоёт не что иное, как «Off the sea» из «Sally Forth». Если так, я бы отправила всех в кинотеатр с громким приветствием «Банзай!» Если же нет, думаю, я бы чувствовала себя как камикадзе во время озвучивания (знак сердца). Ха-ха (знак сердца). Вы все молодцы. * * * Юрико Ямагучи Рицуко Акаги \| Дата рождения: 21 ноября 1965Рицуко уходит прочь с финальным словом «Лжец». Но кому оно было адресовано? В сценарии была лишь реплика Гендо: «Рицуко Акаги, я действительно…», на что Рицуко отвечает: «Лжец», и затем звучит выстрел. Представляю, сколько слов могли бы последовать за «Я действительно…», но не могу решить, какие бы точно подошли. В этом и кроется сложность отношений Рицуко и Гендо.Рицуко Акаги не только учёный, но и женщина, слепо отдавшая свою любовь Гендо Икари; глупая женщина, прошедшая тот же путь, что и её мать Наоко, которая покончила жизнь самоубийством после предательства Гендо. Лично я бы хотела, чтобы она встретила свой конец как послушная, исполнительная женщина, желающая просто праведно умереть. Но в предыдущем фильме («Смерть и Перерождение») она оказалась слишком ревнивой, в ней не было ничего, кроме ненависти к Гендо.Так как меня это не устраивало, я пыталась найти способ принять её смерть от руки Гендо, что и делало интерпретацию слова «Лжец» очень важной. Однако его озвучивание уже приближалось…Режиссёр Анно, должно быть, заметил мои чувства. Когда пришло время озвучивать сцену, он показал мне одну спрятанную подсказку. С этой подсказкой я и Рицуко Акаги были побеждены. Не стоит говорить, что режиссёр Анно невероятен. Действительно потрясающий гений. Я очень благодарна за два с половиной года, что принимала участие в таком проекте. И я бы хотела использовать этот шанс, чтобы искренне поблагодарить всю команду, которая поддерживала меня и помогала, когда это было необходимо. * * * Фумихико Татики Гендо Икари \| Дата рождения: 29 апреля 2961С начала сериала до весеннего релиза в кинотеатрах («Смерть и Перерождение») и теперь к финалу – обычно это похоже на медленный, тяжёлый подъём к пику крутой горы. Во мне, однако, «дни созревания» в этот период шли помимо моей воли и заставляли ещё раз признать непостоянство моей души.Чем больше я говорю о «Евангелионе», тем больше я «живу неверно». Однако пока я могу выражать свои чувства, моя работа в качестве «актёра Евы» может быть не просто чередой хорошо сыгранных эпизодов и глупых ошибок, а серией загадочных и таинственных работ. Несмотря на то, что в роли Икари Гендо я не приблизился к преувеличенному эмоциональному выражению, я очень старался выжать из себя каждую унцию силы, которую мог дать из моих нынешних способностей, чтобы не быть в тени невероятных подробностей и общего уровня этого аниме.Я не могу найти достаточно слов, чтобы поблагодарить режиссёра Анно за бесстрастное наблюдение за этой несчастной ролью, а также акустического режиссёра и всю команду за их безмерную поддержку. * * * Мотому Киёкава Кодзо Фуюцуки \| Дата рождения: 9 апреля 1935Кажется, сразу после финальной сессии озвучивания режиссёр Анно велел нам переделать записи с подробными инструкциями. Поэтому после записи всех эпизодов мы вернулись и перезаписали всё практически сначала.Я уверен, что режиссёр Анно вложил в работу своё сердце и душу. И для актёров было довольно сложно выполнить всё так, как нужно было его сердцу и душе, поскольку в сравнении с мировой драмой японская драма находится на уровне детского сада. Так что я начинал финальную запись с мыслью о том, что если бы мы были более опытными, то смогли бы достичь эффекта, достойного режиссёра Анно.Как-то во время весеннего релиза в кинотеатрах («Смерть и Перерождение») я ехал в метро и услышал, как три школьника обсуждают «Евангелион». Обсуждение выглядело так: «Эта часть значит то, то и то», «Нет, я не согласен», и так далее. Существует не так уж много аниме, которые люди действительно обсуждают, и я думаю, это один из замечательных фактов о «Еве».Я считаю, что даже в кино те драмы, которые заставляют зрителей думать о разных вещах – интересные и хорошие драмы. Конечно, если в драме нет содержания, аудитория не представит себе ничего. Режиссёр Анно создал множество моментов в «Евангелионе», где зрители могут дать волю воображению. Вот почему, на мой взгляд, он великолепен. Режиссёр Анно может объяснить что-то разными способами, а значит, все наши усилия не пропали даром. Вещи, которые я считаю «истинной драмой», требовали около сорока лет озвучивания, тогда как режиссёр Анно способен создавать их за несколько коротких лет.В этом фильме, особенно во второй половине, есть много моментов, которые заставляют вас думать: «Что?!» Режиссёру Анно, должно быть, пришлось снять много других аниме, чтобы достичь эффекта «Что?!» И это снова заставляет меня задуматься, насколько он невероятная личность. * * * Хиро Юки Макото Хьюга \| Дата рождения: 13 февраля 1965Озвучивание полнометражной версии завершено, а значит, завершена и моя работа в качестве актёра «Евангелиона». Всё, что теперь остаётся – посмотреть на результат. Я с нежностью вспоминаю первый эпизод телесериала. Нам, актёрам, казалось бы, суждено подходить к каждой работе с полным безразличием. Как только одна работа заканчивается, мы должны уже думать о следующей. Однако мне удалось не потерять связь с «Евангелионом» за долгий период между телесериалом и первым фильмом, а теперь и вторым, хотя и между ними был небольшой интервал. Я очень привязался к своему персонажу. Признание Макото в любви своей начальнице… Эта сцена оставила глубокое впечатление. Я размышлял над различными вещами, о которых он думал, которые он чувствовал… Думаю, поэтому я и не терял связи [с «Евой»] так надолго, чтобы позволить сердцу спокойно блуждать. Лично я получил очень многое от этого проекта, хотя не уверен, проявилось ли это в моей игре. * * * Такехито Коясу Шигеру Аоба \| Дата рождения: 5 мая 1967Что значит «нормально»? Что значит «ненормально»? Где граница между «нормальным» и «ненормальным»? Есть пара вещей, о которых я задумался. Я считаю, что люди определяют, где хорошее, а где – плохое, где «нормальное», а где «ненормальное» по мнению большинства других людей. Это правильно? Если мы делаем что-то немного не так, как другие, мы выглядим, как еретики, и от нас держатся подальше. Если мы неординарно мыслим, нас избегают. Однако разве не были совершены все открытия и изобретения людьми, которые отклоняются от общества и поэтому «ненормальны»? Изменение «стандартов». Евангелион «ненормален» для аниме-индустрии. Многие люди так считают. Однако граница между «нормальным» и «ненормальным» в аниме-индустрии всё ещё меняется. Богатое воображение и какое-то «ненормальное» мышление. Люди с такими качествами изменят мир. «Стандарты» аниме-индустрии меняются. Я счастлив, что смог сыграть хотя бы маленькую роль в этой истории. Но мне бы хотелось сыграть большую роль. Наверное, это мои истинные чувства. Я могу быть «нормальным». * * * Мики Нагасава Майя Ибуки \| Дата рождения: 11 июля 1970Эта работа заставила моё сердце болеть, Работа, заставившая меня хотеть увидеть продолжение так сильно, что было больно, Работа, с которой я счастлива быть связанной, И работа, которую я никогда не забуду. * * * Акира Исида Каору Нагиса \| Дата рождения: 2 ноября 1967Щедрые речи с очень взрослыми словами, действия, смахивающие на действия простого школьника, парень, к которому довольно сложно приблизиться. И в то же время его честность и манера разговора с теми, с кем он впервые встретился с улыбкой, оставляют хорошее впечатление.Стартовав с такого мировосприятия, персонаж Каору Нагиса начинает выражать себя с каждым днём. Обстановка вокруг Каору Нагисы сделала его навигатором в лабиринте «Евангелиона» и дала новую суть его невыраженному значению.Я зашёл очень далеко и обдумывал всё это напряжение, привлекал всё моё остроумие и искал значение «Евангелиона» через Каору, но, несмотря на его самоуверенные слова, я не понимаю слишком много вещей. Каково значение Каору Нагисы, который появился, чтобы выполнить свою миссию – «продолжить жизнь» – и затем, подобно стрекозе, так быстро умереть? Если бы я не был связан с Каору Нагисой, мне бы никогда не пришлось переживать такую боль.К счастью, на этот раз у меня получилось связать себя с «Евангелионом» в качестве Каору до самого конца. Был ли выбор Каору верным? Действительно ли он «продолжил жизнь»? Я счастлив, что мне повезло увидеть весь финал своими глазами. ° ° ° ° ° ° История об отношениях: Интервью с Кадзуя Цурумаки [режиссёр] Интервьюер: Итак, «Евангелион», наконец, завершён. Почему вы решили завершить сериал полнометражным фильмом?КЦ: Да, он наконец завершён. Думаю, было бы намного проще завершить его сериалом, честно говоря, я считаю, что всё, что было сделано после него – излишняя работа. Хотя любой нормальный человек был бы счастлив, что по его работе сняли фильм.Интервьюер: Вы не считаете, что время, вложенное в проект, осозналось только при окончании работы?КЦ: Хотел бы я знать…. То есть, у нас было достаточно времени, но тот духовный подъём, который я испытывал во время создания сериала, больше никогда не вернётся. Мне жаль, что это звучит так деградирующе, но это значит, что то напряжение, которое я испытывал при создании сериала, наверное, было лучшим в моей жизни.Интервьюер: Что вы имеете в виду под «напряжением»?КЦ: Я чувствовал себя прекрасно, ощущая приближение конца – после завершения шестнадцатого эпизода и особенно при работе над двадцатым эпизодом. Конечно, физически я смертельно уставал, но мой разум был острый, как нож. Я чувствовал, что использовал свои способности на максимум.Интервьюер: Шестнадцатый эпизод всех удивил и, наверное, стал поворотным моментом для «Евангелиона».КЦ: Потому что это был первый эпизод, где нам понравилось, в каком направлении развиваются события.[Примечание: Эпизод 16 «Смертельная болезнь, а затем…». В первой его части состоялась битва с двенадцатым ангелом, а вторая показала духовную борьбу Синдзи в его внутреннем мире после того, как он оказался в ловушке внутри Ангела. В создании этого эпизода Цурумаки принимал активное участие.]Интервьюер: Вы с самого начала планировали эпизод, демонстрирующий внутренний мир Синдзи?КЦ: Нет. Этот эпизод расположен рядом с десятым, одиннадцатым и двенадцатым и должен был быть просто ещё одним эпизодом, где появляется Ангел. Однако когда загадки вокруг Ангелов начали разрешаться, мы решили вставить эпизод, где Ангел проявляет интерес к людям.Интервьюер: Понятно.КЦ: Первый набросок сценария представлял собой обычный диалог между Ангелом и Синдзи. Однако мы чувствовали, что будет слишком глупо показывать Ангела говорящим, как инопланетянин из низкопробной фантастики (говорит, постукивая по своему кадыку) «Ваш способ мышления неверен». Поэтому мы пришли к той идее, что и была использована в этом эпизоде – Синдзи беседует с самим собой.Интервьюер: В этом диалоге был момент – что-то вроде: «Мы не можем соединить наши жизни только там, где нам нравится…» Это была сильная мысль. Я думал, что это должно было попасть прямо в сердце фанатов аниме, но почти никто не отреагировал (смех).КЦ: Ну, большинство людей не обращают серьёзного внимания на диалоги при просмотре телесериала. То есть мы слышим слова, но они не проходят в наш разум. У меня тоже есть такая проблема. Хидеаки Анно понимал это и стал объединять образы, чтобы передать послание зрителю в более прямой форме. Поэтому элементов, которые должны были как-то передать послание внутри истории, постепенно становилось всё меньше, а более замкнутые и эмоциональные образы появлялись всё чаще.Интервьюер: То есть вы пытались выразить идею, показав то, что происходит с Синдзи, но затем выбрали более прямой путь?КЦ: В то время, когда мы делали шестнадцатый эпизод, Хидеаки Анно работал над четырнадцатым – полустихотворным монологом Рей Аянами. Это было в то время, когда мы начали осознавать направление развития «Евы» – то, что она становится историей, склонной к самоанализу. Вот почему мы сделали первую часть шестнадцатого эпизода обычной историей. В этом смысле граница между первой и второй частями шестнадцатого эпизода является границей между первой и второй частями «Евангелиона».[Примечание: Эпизод 14 «SEELE, Трон Душ». В начале второй части внутренние чувства показаны в полустихотворном монологе.]Интервьюер: Что вы думали о событиях второй части телесериала?КЦ: Я не думал об этом. Наш план оказался неудачным, и финансирование было урезано, поэтому появились места, в которых серьёзно пострадало качество. Однако напряжение в процессе съёмок, когда все мы впадали в отчаяние и сходили с ума, конечно, отразилось на фильме.Интервьюер: Понятно.КЦ: Примерно в то время, когда вся система разваливалась, многие считали: «Если мы не можем нормально работать, зачем продолжать?» Однако я так не думал. Я считал: «Почему бы не показать людям весь процесс, включая наши неудачи?» Понимаете, сделать фильм, показывающий всё, включая нашу неспособность прийти к отличному результату. Я полагал, что через десяток лет, когда мы посмотрим на то, что мы создали – когда буквально потеряли рассудок – мы не будем чувствовать себя плохо, даже если качество окажется не очень хорошим.Интервьюер: Правда?КЦ: Да, конечная форма не имела значения, мне было приятно уже то, что мы можем довести работу над сериалом до конца.Интервьюер: В итоге вы выпустили фильм с двумя премьерами – осенью и весной.КЦ: Когда я узнал, что мы не сможем завершить работу весенней премьерой и она затягивается на лето, я пришёл в ужас. После того, как я увидел реакцию фанатов на весенний релиз, я впал в серьёзную депрессию. В тот момент я опять засомневался. «Я так и знал – слишком много ненужной работы». Это был настоящий шок.Интервьюер: Вы были режиссёром в фильме «Конец Евангелиона».КЦ: Только в титрах – на деле работа не очень отличалась от создания сериала. Поэтому я обозначен как продюсер в эпизоде двадцать пять.Интервьюер: Вы вообще работали над финальным эпизодом?КЦ: Как режиссёр – нет. Но в последний момент меня попросили помочь с раскрашиванием фильма.Интервьюер: Как вы себя чувствовали при создании эпизода двадцать пять?КЦ: Я не прилагал никаких особых усилий просто потому, что фильм должен был выйти на большом экране, но пытался делать это с тем же чувством, что и в сериале. Я не хотел быть чересчур усердным или что-то в этом роде.Интервьюер: Значит, вы работали в несколько расслабленной манере?КЦ: Наверное, у меня было больше энтузиазма при создании первого и второго эпизодов. Но всё же это была огромная работа.Интервьюер: Были ли какие-нибудь сцены, которые вам особенно понравились, или которым вы придали особое значение?КЦ: Когда Ева-02 получает Копьё в левый глаз. На самом деле было очень сложно изобразить такую дикую боль, но когда я посмотрел фильм, то понял, что мы всё сделали правильно. Не так уж часто я чувствую что-то подобное.Интервьюер: Сменим тему, «Евангелион» по существу отражает внутренний мир режиссёра Анно. Когда вы вместе работали над проектом, у вас были какие-нибудь разногласия и расхождения в мировоззрении?КЦ: Я думаю, у любого на моём месте были бы подобные ощущения. В конце концов, работы, содержащие такие разногласия, наиболее интересные. В этом смысле работы, называемые «развлекательными», не очень-то меня радуют.Интервьюер: То есть вы были всё время в согласии?КЦ: Конечно. Однако это не означает, что я мог встать на место Синдзи. Это также не значит, что я симпатизирую чувствам Синдзи и Анно.Интервьюер: Понятно. Значит это правда, что чувства Синдзи совпадают с чувствами Анно?КЦ: По правде говоря, я не уверен, но я работал над проектом с этой точки зрения. Вот почему при создании сценария я всегда говорил что-то вроде: «Разве это не слишком по-геройски для реплики Синдзи? Хидеаки Анно не очень-то похож на героя».Интервьюер: В двадцать пятом эпизоде Синдзи становится абсолютно угнетённым. Значит ли это, что режиссёр Анно тоже прошёл через подобное?КЦ: Я думаю, что напряжение Анно после завершения работы над сериалом упало примерно до такого уровня.Интервьюер: Наблюдая за эмоциями Синдзи, я вижу небольшой диссонанс, когда смотрю двадцать пятый эпизод сразу после просмотра двадцать четвёртого.КЦ: В плане эмоций вы, наверное, правы. Потому что с точки зрения людей, создававших двадцать пятый эпизод, между ними прошёл почти год. В этом плане телевизионный двадцать пятый эпизод более связан с двадцать четвёртым.Интервьюер: Этот фильм был создан в соответствии с состоянием разума Хидеаки Анно?КЦ: Думаю, да. Анно пытался создать что-то более чистое. Это не совсем удалось, но я не думаю, что мы всё переврали.Интервьюер: Когда вы говорите о лжи, вы имеете в виду неожиданное продолжение в духе «любовь спасла мир»?КЦ: Именно. Мы хотели избежать этого. Я не чувствую неудовлетворения окончанием фильма. Мне он нравится.Интервьюер: В конце фильма Синдзи, судя по всему, нашёл решение своих проблем.КЦ: Ну, лично я думаю так – «Разве нам действительно необходимо находить решение?» Мы не обращаем внимания на наши проблемы, межличностные отношения, их решение, или поиск ответов, но жизнь продолжается. Я думаю, что последняя сцена показывает, что жизнь продолжается, но я могу ошибаться.Интервьюер: В итоге Евангелион – история об отношениях. Судя хотя бы по последней сцене…КЦ: Так было задумано с самого начала. Именно это я пытался показать, начиная со второго эпизода.Интервьюер: Да, как в сцене, где Мисато и Синдзи разговаривают, измеряя квартиру Мисато, верно? Хотя казалось, что они прекрасно уживаются вместе, Синдзи размышлял – «Она неплохой человек, но…», в то время как Мисато думала – «Хотела бы я знать, что он видит во мне».КЦ: Во втором эпизоде были и другие сцены. Например, когда Мисато разговаривает с Синдзи, но не входит в его комнату. Даже в третьем эпизоде у них простой утренний разговор, но они даже не смотрят друг на друга. Как будто они смотрят через приоткрытую дверь, но не контактируют. То же самое происходит между Синдзи и Рей, и между Синдзи и его отцом. Никакого интереса, огромная дистанция, неуклюжие попытки взаимоотношений.Интервьюер: Понятно. Значит, идея осталась прежней на протяжении всего сериала?КЦ: Верно.Интервьюер: Что вы думаете, вспоминая «Евангелион» сейчас?КЦ: Ну, мне действительно нравилась атмосфера при создании телесериала. Только в телесериале возможно получить отзывы ещё на стадии разработки. У нас была обратная связь, вроде «Зрителям не понравился сегодняшний эпизод» или «Ух ты! Сегодняшний эпизод имел большой успех!», и мы учитывали это при создании последующих эпизодов. В этом смысле создание сериала напоминает прямой эфир. Хидеаки Анно, наверное, чувствовал себя ужасно после прочтения абсурдной критики в электронной почте или оскорбительной ругани сериала в журналах. Но именно поэтому «Евангелион» – это история об общении, включая и такое непонимание.Интервьюер: Теперь даже бизнесмены обсуждают загадки «Евы» в барах. (cмех)КЦ: (Смех) Например, Хидеаки Анно говорил: «Фанаты аниме слишком большие интроверты. Им надо чаще бывать на улицах». Наверное, он должен быть счастлив, что даже не-фанаты аниме смотрят его работу? Но когда всё уже было сказано и сделано, комментарии Хидеаки Анно к «Евангелиону» всё-таки адресованы фанатам аниме, включающим его самого и, конечно, меня тоже. Другими словами, для не-фаната аниме просмотр «Евангелиона» бесполезен. Когда человек, который уже умеет нормально жить и общаться, посмотрит его, он не узнает ничего нового.Интервьюер: Разве не все люди, посмотревшие «Евангелион», теперь имеют комплекс фаната аниме? Разве не все разделяют чувство, что это непросто – жить в этом мире?КЦ: Да, возможно, вы правы. Состояния Хидеаки Анно правдивы, если посмотреть на маленький круг аниме-фанов, но если посмотреть на японцев вообще, мы сможем найти многих людей с похожими проблемами. Эти проблемы бывают не только у фанатов аниме.Интервьюер: В заключение – есть ли у вас какое-то послание к фанатам?КЦ: Не живите прошлым. Найдите что-то ещё, что интересует вас.Интервьюер: Значит ли это, что не стоит зацикливаться на «Евангелионе»?КЦ: Да. Всегда лучше оставить то, что уже кончилось. ° ° ° ° ° ° Geruge радио-шоу [9 июня 1997 г.] (переведено Hitoshi Doi) Тосимити Оцуки [продюсер «Евангелиона»] — Кто будет петь песню для нового фильма? Оцуки: Иностранный исполнитель.— Кто именно? Оцуки: Пока что не могу сказать.— Мужчина или женщина? Оцуки: Женщина, афроамериканка.— Какой у песни жанр? Оцуки: Религиозное песнопение с отрывками из Евангелия. Она прекрасна. Также мы выпустим сингл, сейчас мы дублируем его в Лондоне.— Вы уже закончили с последующим озвучиванием? Оцуки: Мы работаем над ним сейчас. Работали вчера, сегодня, завтра продолжим. Всё займёт где-то четыре дня.— Почему на одном из скриншотов Мисато, Аска, Майя и Хикари лежат в луже крови? Они умирают? Оцуки: Некоторые персонажи умрут.— Будут ли те, кто выживет? Оцуки: Да.— Есть ли персонажи, которых не пришлось озвучивать? Оцуки:Тодзи, Кенске, Хикари.— Какой у вас любимый персонаж в «Евангелионе»? Оцуки: Все они.— Но что если бы вам пришлось выбрать одного? Оцуки: Фуюцуки.— Что вы планируете делать после «Евангелиона»? Оцуки: Мы уже начали работать над следующим проектом. Я бы хотел рассказать об этом, но ещё слишком рано.— Вы можете нам сказать, когда он выйдет? Оцуки: В следующем году.— ТВ-сериал? Оцуки: Фильм.— Это аниме? Оцуки: Пока что не могу сказать.— Будут ли сцены с живыми актёрами в фильме «Евангелион»? Оцуки: Не могу сказать. Geruge радио-шоу [10 июня 1997 г.] Мики Нагасава [Майя Ибуки] — Как прошла запись? Мики: Было тяжело.— Как вам г-н Анно? Мики: Он был очень придирчив.— Как думаете, кто нравился Майе? Мики: Аоба, наверное?— Чувствовала ли она что-то особое к Рицуко в фильме? Мики: Нет… не думаю.— Хочет ли Майя пилотировать Еву? Мики: Нет, вряд ли.— Как часто Майя появляется в фильме? Мики: Мне кажется, совсем редко… * * * Исида Акира [Каору Нагиса] — Запись была тяжёлой? Акира: Очень тяжёлой. Особенно вчера и позавчера. Вчера мы начали в 10 часов утра, и я оставался там до 9:45 вечера. Я был последним вместе с Огатой Мегуми (Синдзи), Хаясибарой Мегуми (Рей) и Киёкавой Мотому (Фуюцуки).— Какая это была сцена? Акира: Финальную сцену мы записали раньше, так что это была предпоследняя.— Каору – ключевой персонаж? Акира: Вроде того…— Были ли у Каору эмоциональные сцены? Акира: Сцены с Каору не были очень эмоциональными. Когда мы закончили, у меня словно камень с души упал. Если бы «Евангелион» закончился на телесериале, я бы появился там всего раз, и всё бы завершилось. Однако работать над фильмом мне было очень тяжело. И когда я узнал, что он будет разделён на несколько частей, стало ещё сложнее.— Как думаете, какая была самая лучшая сцена с Каору? Акира: По-моему, двадцать четвёртый эпизод телесериала…— А что насчёт фильма? Акира: В фильме он не выглядел, как человек (с физическим телом). Единственный человек, с которым разговаривает Каору – это Синдзи. Geruge радио-шоу [11 июня 1997 г.] Татики Фумихико [Гендо Икари] — Есть ли в фильме сцены, где вы сыграете вживую? Фумихико: Нет, в них участвуют только девушки. Мужчины-поклонники будут счастливы.— Можете сказать какую-нибудь новую реплику из фильма? Фумихико [голосом, словно умирает]: Рей!— Умрёт ли Гендо? Фумихико: Возможно.— Угрожали ли вам расправой из-за озвучивания Гендо? Фумихико: Нет, но меня узнавали в поезде.— Как прошла запись голоса Гендо? Фумихико: Потребовалось два дня, у него было больше реплик, чем обычно.— Если бы вы не озвучивали Гендо, какого бы персонажа выбрали? Фумихико: Рей. Мне нравится характер Рей, и с точки зрения сейю мне нравится, как она разговаривает.— Много ли сцен, где Гендо разговаривает с Рей? Фумихико: Да, и с Юи. * * * Огата Мегуми [Синдзи Икари] — Было ли много криков? Мегуми: Да.— Кто нравится Синдзи? Рей или Аска? Мегуми: Они обе… Но я думаю, что ему в действительности никто не нравится.— Есть ли что-нибудь в фильме об отношениях? Мегуми: Это тот же обычный Синдзи. Но с Рей… Была та шокирующая сцена в фильме «Rebirth» (весной). В этот раз эту сцену сделали более длинной.— Вы перезаписывали голоса для той части из «Rebirth»? Мегуми: Да, все сцены были переделаны.— Что означает чёрная луна? Мегуми: Я не очень хорошо осведомлена. Синдзи это знать необязательно… Каору и Рей являются теми, кто объясняют эти вещи. Финальная сцена составляет приблизительно пять страниц, её запись заняла полтора часа. Сцена длится лишь около двух-трёх минут.— У Синдзи было много реплик в этой сцене? Мегуми: Ни одной. Это была импровизация. ° ° ° ° ° ° Интервью с Анно и Миядзаки (отрывок) Миядзаки: В любом случае я рад, что у тебя всё сложилось с «Евангелионом». Он дал тебе возможность работать и право на авторитетное мнение. Кроме того, убегай от призрака «Евангелиона» как можно быстрее. Ты не можешь быть «тем господином Анно, создавшим «Евангелион» ещё десять или двадцать лет.Анно: Я знаю!Миядзаки: Поэтому я думаю, что впредь ты должен держаться подальше от «Евангелиона».Анно: Не беспокойся. Злой дух уже ушёл. Так что сейчас я собираюсь работать над сёдзе-мангой (смех).Миядзаки: Хочешь сказать, что этим фильмом («Love & Pop», 1998) изгонишь «Евангелион»? (смех)Анно: Грубо говоря, да, так и есть. (смех) ° ° ° ° ° ° Книга SCHIZO Вторая глава \| «Как закончить историю» Такекума: Я слышал, что работа над второй частью «Евы» была очень тяжелой в плане графика…Анно: Вы правы. Думаю, мы неплохо справились. Я не рассчитываю, что остальные люди это понимают, но это чудо, что мы держались, как могли. Работать в таком темпе в такой маленькой группе… Хотя вы можете сказать, что мы справились благодаря опыту. Такой труд, в таком небольшом составе, в такой краткий срок – с этой точки зрения мы справились на ура. Не раз было, что я зависел от энтузиазма и душевного состояния команды. Однако это те вещи, которые остальные люди увидеть не смогут. Большинство из них судят о работе только по конечному результату. Я лично считаю, что мы сделали всё возможное. Подобное и невозможно без полной самоотдачи. Люди не смогут осознать это целиком, если ни разу так не выкладывались.Такекума: Совсем недавно вы относили подобную работу к сфере услуг, но в конечном итоге предали свои же принципы (оставили принцип прямой истории). Вы не чувствуете внутреннего противоречия?Анно: Нет, на деле я сам оказал услугу (смех).Такекума: Разумеется (смех).Анно: Возможно, это не похоже на сферу услуг, но это была услуга. Услуга, которая не могла быть признана как таковая. Иными словами, если зрители хотели злиться, я действительно старался их разозлить. Было бы гораздо лучше, если бы вместо недовольства качеством анимации они бы хотели перевернуть столы.Анно: Я даже задумывался о вынесении этой темы на обсуждение после завершения работы. Для меня самого такое обсуждение стало бы одной из услуг. Необыкновенной услугой. Именно работая над ними, мы получили такой финал.Оидзуми: И это несомненно связано с тем, что в итоге вы истратили все свои деньги… С экономической точки зрения такая ситуация отнюдь не нова, аниматорам и сотрудникам низшего уровня всегда выделяют мало денег.Анно: Верно. Их заработок совсем не пропорционален тому количеству контента, который они создают. Всё, что они получают в качестве компенсации (за недостаточное количество денег) – это какие-либо эмоции. Единственное, чем я мог их поощрить, так это их интерес и радость за участие в таком проекте при виде финального результата. Я мог только принять необходимые меры, чтобы они получили эмоциональное вознаграждение. Однако это становится своего рода давлением, потому что при отсутствии интереса они могут перестать работать. Я всегда должен предлагать им что-то интересное. Это была игра, в которую играли всерьёз.Такекума: Что говорили другие сотрудники о последних двух эпизодах?Анно: Некоторые были довольны, некоторые считали это приемлемым.Такекума: Значит, недовольных не было?Анно: Почти нет. Я не знал, как по-другому закончить финальные эпизоды. Возможно, причина ещё в моих словах, что мы «переснимем» последние два эпизода.Такекума: Если бы вы сказали, что не сможете «переснять» последние два эпизода, то, вероятно, реакция была бы немного другой. * * * «На первый взгляд, счастливый конец» Анно: Это точь-в-точь как моё взросление. Меня часто спрашивают, представляет ли Синдзи-кун прежнюю версию меня, но это не так. Синдзи-кун – мой нынешний образ (смех). Я веду себя, как четырнадцатилетний подросток, я всё ещё ребёнок. Неважно, что вы об этом думаете, в психологическом плане я до сих пор на Оральной стадии [имеются в виду стадии психосексуального развития по З. Фрейду — прим. ред.]. Меланхоличный, орально-зависимый тип. Что ж, это правда, которую я не могу отрицать, ничего не могу с этим поделать. Я хотел двигаться дальше, но в итоге всё закончилось тем, что я вернулся к себе. Тупик.Такекума: Тогда в некотором смысле заключительный эпизод Евы – печальный конец.Анно: Да, в каком-то смысле. Если вы пересиливаете себя, чтобы почувствовать счастье, то это печальный конец. Если вы думаете, что это прекрасно, то это счастливый конец.Такекума: На первый взгляд, это похоже на счастливый конец.Анно: Я придумал название последней песни на CD саундтреке. «Good, or Don’t be». «Хорошо, или Не живи». Хорошо или плохо. Или всё сразу? Я вложил в него немного собственных чувств. Однако я думаю, что мы перестали развиваться и ходим кругами под чем-то вроде моратория, но причина кроется в том, что мы потеряли способность формировать самих себя. Первоначально в людях ничего нет. Если я не знаю японский язык, я, как минимум, не могу ни с кем общаться. Раз мои родители говорили на нём, значит, и я на нём говорю. Если бы мои родители говорили на английском, то и я бы говорил на английском, даже если бы мы жили в Японии. Если бы мои друзья говорили на японском, и я бы их не понимал, мне пришлось бы перейти на японский. Самостоятельно придумать японский я не могу. Всё, что я могу – только что-то имитировать. В то время я начинаю подражать родителям, братьям и сёстрам, тем, кто мне близок. Я могу либо чтить своих родителей и следовать за ними, либо могу бунтовать и идти совсем по другому пути. В любом случае, если у меня нет примера для подражания, я ничего не могу сделать. Неважно, насколько вы гениальны, всегда есть что-то, что пробуждает вдохновение. Если вы, как я, смотрите только на мангу и аниме, то когда вы придумаете и создадите что-то, в конечном итоге это что-то будет тем, что вы давно забыли. Иными словами, у него определенно будет какой-то источник. Тогда вы всё поймете, узнаете, на что оно похоже, и немного расстроитесь. Так как это было всё, на что вы смотрели, и, в общем-то, это было неизбежно, потому что вы просто подсознательно вытащили из себя вещи, осевшие глубоко внутри. Неважно, насколько вы гениальны – если вы переносите впечатления о каком-то цветке в песню и роман, и если вы не до конца поняли красоту этого цветка, у вас никогда не будет песни или романа. Люди не могут создавать что-то из пустоты. В нынешнем потоке информации вокруг нас мы не знаем, с кого брать пример. Даже если я не знаю день рождения одноклассника, я точно буду знать, когда родилась Момоэ Ямагучи [известная японская певица и поп-идол — прим.ред.] (смех). Я буду знать мельчайшие детали биографии идола – размер её бюста, талии, объём бёдер. Мне кажется, это мир, где вы чувствуете себя ближе к Момоэ Ямагучи, а не к однокласснику. Мы видим ТВ-персонажей более реальными, чем одноклассников, которые на самом деле существуют. Невероятно осознавать, что виртуальность берёт верх над реальностью. Мы живём в такой среде, что не знаем, действительно ли мы изобрели вещи, которые так хорошо сделали. Когда мы взрослеем, мы принимаем за правду то, что говорит диктор в новостях NHK, даже если знаем, что это фальшивка. Среди японцев такая тенденция не редкость. * * * «Привязанность к уродству» Оидзуми: Поговорим о вашем комплексе из-за состояния тела вашего отца… Вы сказали, в том же интервью для «Animage», что даже при рисовании робота вы не остаётесь довольным до тех пор, пока не сотрёте несколько его частей.Анно: Возможно, у меня есть некая привязанность к уродству. Я не могу любить что-то, если оно где-нибудь не сломано. Думаю, на это как раз повлияло состояние моего отца.Такекума: Тодзи потерял ногу. Почему он не умер?Анно: Я не мог его убить.Такекума: Разумеется.Анно: Нет, хм, я дал определённое обещание, хотя теперь думаю, что должен был его нарушить. В самом начале, когда мы составили план (для «Евы»), я встретился с продюсером из «King Records», который сказал мне: «Я одобрю план, который вы предлагаете, каким бы он не был, потому что я верю в вас. Однако будут два условия. Первое – вы будете со мной в течение пяти лет. Вы не можете сделать, например, версию фильма с другим продюсером. Дополнительное условие – вы не убьёте детей. Взрослые могут погибнуть, но я не хочу, чтобы умирали дети». Из-за этого условия я не мог убить Тодзи. * * * «GAINAX — любительская группа» Анно: Я не уверен, что Гендо представляет собой образ настоящего отца. Ну, отца не в том смысле, как кровного родителя ребёнка, а скорее как представителя общества и системы. Вот почему у него такой облик.Такекума: Следовательно, он отчасти аморфный.Анно: Ангелы такие же. Я заставил их казаться аморфными, потому что лично для меня неясно как общество, так и враг. * * * «Начало Евы [2]» Садамото: В итоге появление свитков Мёртвого моря в «Еве» — влияние «Нади». В заключительном эпизоде есть сцена, где Гаргойл – злодей – входит в контакт со светом (из Голубой Воды) и превращается в соляной столб. Поэтому в первоначальной версии «Евы» огромный взрыв в Антарктиде (в финальных сериях) был вместо взрыва в Мёртвом море.Цурумаки: «Катастрофа, повлекшая исчезновение Мёртвого моря».Садамото: «Катастрофа, повлекшая исчезновение Мёртвого моря», да, она была в первоначальной версии «Евы». Таким образом она соединялась бы с миром «Нади». Полагаю, Анно-сан об этом тоже думал.Сато: События «Евы» происходят в параллельном мире.Такекума: В действительности «Ева» могла быть в каком-то роде продолжением «Нади».Садамото: Скорее всего, Анно подумывал о чём-то таком в самом начале. И я считаю, он хотел создать нечто большее, чем обычный мир в манге.[Прим. пер. — Гаргойл – серый кардинал Нео-Атлантиса, появляющийся в «Наде», который стремится управлять миром. Режиссёр Анно в то время заявил, что в этом персонаже больше всего проявляется его индивидуальность. Сейю Гаргойла – Мотому Киёкава, он сыграл множество злодеев в работах со спецэффектами, режиссёр им очень восхищается.] ° ° ° ° ° ° Книга PRANO «Введение четвёртой главы» Оидзуми: Когда я смотрю на Аянами Рей, то вспоминаю о девушках из Аум Синрикё [прим. пер. — нерелегиозная, экстремистская, деструктивная секта буддизма]. Главным образом потому, что они зависят от своего основателя, Асахары [прим. пер. — Сёко Асахара].Такекума: Она целиком предана ему, хотя её сердце почти как камень.Оидзуми: Именно. И раз мы говорим об ассоциациях, можно ли считать Рей Аянами похожей на вашу мать?Анно: Это не совсем так.Такекума: И она не похожа на какую-нибудь девушку, с которой вы раньше встречались, так?Анно: Нет. Рей скорее близка мне по духу. Я не совсем её понимаю… Правда в том, что у меня к ней нет абсолютно никакой эмоциональной привязанности.Такекума: Что? Правда?Анно: Да. Никакой эмоциональной привязанности к ней. Ну, Нобита-сан охарактеризовала её как символ шизофрении. В её работе были моменты, описывающие как раз то, что я бы хотел с нею сделать.Такекума: Но она персонаж, получивший народное признание от фанатов. Даже я вначале был увлечён Рей.Оидзуми: Это верно. Также голос Мегуми Хаясибары был невероятным.Анно: Но Рей – персонаж, которого я понимаю меньше всего. Кроме того, я не особо-то в ней заинтересован. Были моменты, где я сознательно что-то делал, активно пытался вложить мои предпосылки, пытался принести самые примитивные, основные, невинные частички себя.Оидзуми: Значит, Рей может быть чем-то, что существует в вашем подсознательном, но не может быть выражено словами.Анно: Даже в разгаре работы над «Евой» я внезапно осознал, что совсем о ней забыл. О самом её существовании. В седьмом эпизоде я вспомнил и добавил одну сцену с ней. Хотя не испытывал никаких эмоций. Думаю, это нормально, что она не появляется в восьмом эпизоде, что с ней нет и одного кадра.Шестой эпизод мы создали слишком рано. В конце Рей говорит: «Я не знаю, что мне делать», и Синдзи отвечает: «Мне кажется, ты должна улыбнуться», и Рей улыбается. Позже, когда я обдумал это, я обругал сам себя. Другими словами, если она и Синдзи наконец-то «пообщались», то не заканчивается ли на этом её история? В тот момент Рей была завершена для меня. Когда она улыбнулась, она, как персонаж, была уже завершена. * * * «Эпилог» Анно: Когда я работал над последними двумя эпизодами, я чувствовал, будто мой мозг продолжает работать на какой-то химии. Когда я посмотрел соединённый двадцать пятый эпизод, я подумал, что я гений. Однако когда я отредактировал его и пересмотрел снова, я был сокрушён. Он никуда не годился. Мне было стыдно из-за недостатка таланта. Я хочу извиниться перед всеми сотрудниками.Такекума: Да, но последняя сцена в заключительном эпизоде, где экран ломается и все аплодируют главному герою, была поразительной. Я смотрел её и чувствовал, что схожу с ума. Чувствовал себя как… как далеко вы зашли ради этого?..Анно: Что ж, я вложил в неё довольно много всего. Самую главную причину для создания этой сцены я раскрывать не намерен. Я никому не скажу, на чём она была основана. Ключевую идею, сыгравшую роль в двадцать шестом эпизоде… я всё ещё никому о ней не рассказал, даже в журнале «Quick Japan». Хотя бы о ней я никому не расскажу.Оидзуми: Вы имеете в виду какой-то личный опыт, о котором никому не можете рассказать?Анно: Нет, это скорее касается моей идеологии. В интервью для «Quick Japan» я рассказал только о самой верхушке айсберга… В общем, этот секрет я собираюсь унести с собой в могилу. * * * «В заключительных двух эпизодах» Садамото: Котоно Мицуиси, например, плакала, читая сценарий. Когда Анно-сан узнал об этом, он победно вскинул в воздух кулаки [прим. пер. — подразумевается gust pose – название популярной позы в Японии].Масаюки: Какой это был эпизод?Садамото: Двадцать пятый.Такекума: Сейю Мисато плакала, читая сценарий?Садамото: Поэтому Анно принял победную позу. Заведующая мангой тоже плакала, и когда Анно услышал об этом, он снова это сделал (смех). У него был такой торжественный вид, потому что довёл до слёз двух членов команды. Хотя когда всё закончилось, люди говорили ему разные вещи, и он был в состоянии полного коллапса. Что стало с его позой? (смех)Масаюки: Когда он создавал двадцать пятый эпизод, он говорил, что он – гений. После того, как он вышел в эфир, он выглядел ошеломлённым, покидая свою комнату. «Почему я сделал такую странную вещь?» (смех)Сато: С финальным эпизодом было так же, да?Масаюки: Ну, он ничего не говорил про финальный эпизод. Он вроде бы был чрезвычайно доволен только двадцать пятым эпизодом. Но когда он увидел его в эфире, там было что-то похожее на «Я идиот…» (смех)Сато: Позже он осторожно наблюдал за реакциями в сети (смех). Хоть он и говорил, что собирался их игнорировать, он всё равно одним глазком заглядывал в монитор. «Я, скорее всего, не буду смотреть…» – говорил он. «Да, я не буду смотреть».Садамото: Но я думал, что последние два эпизода были хорошими. Думал, что это всего лишь вопрос недостающей связи между эпизодами двадцать четыре и двадцать пять. Поэтому сейчас мы делаем переделанную версию двадцать пятого эпизода. Мне кажется, что именно этой серии не хватало. Я видел первоначальный сценарий. Если бы там был оригинальный двадцать пятый эпизод, то получилась бы чёткая связь между телевизионными эпизодами двадцать пять и двадцать шесть. Отсутствовала только одна серия. Поэтому я считал, что финал был хорошим.Масаюки: Мы это знаем, потому что мы принимали в этом участие.Садамото: Так что в моей голове есть чёткая связь (соединяющая двадцать четвертый и двадцать пятый эпизоды). Но, несмотря на то, что обычные зрители хотели увидеть продолжение двадцать четвёртого эпизода, оно было пропущено. Поэтому они рассердились.Оидзуми: Совершенно верно.Садамото: Они не смогли увидеть связь между эпизодами двадцать четыре и двадцать пять.Цурумаки: Потому что оригинальный сценарий для двадцать пятого эпизода был уже закончен, но в итоге не пригодился.Садамото: Так как я видел сценарий, я подумал (просмотрев финал), что даже столько оказалось достаточно. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Интервью с Хидеаки Анно для журнала «AERA» Из интервью стало известно следующее: • Рост Анно – 180 см. Он достаточно высокий для обычного японца. • Анно всегда чего-то боится. Но он сам вызывает у многих страх. • Анно родился в 1960 году в городе Убе, префектура Ямагучи. • Его отец – Такуя Анно – лишился левой ноги, как Тодзи Судзухара. • Хидеаки Анно боится животных, поэтому он вегетарианец. • Анно говорил: «Я не могу сломать скорлупу вокруг своего сердца. Однако, думаю, я могу немного её расширить, так как завершил работу над «Евой»». • На самом деле он стеснительный. • «Ева» была для Анно очень личным аниме. После неё он перестал работать. Он пытался покончить с жизнью. Чтобы уберечь себя от суицида, он жил в здании GAINAX в городе Мусашино, Токио. • Но морально Анно был полностью опустошён, поскольку вложил в «Еву» всего себя. ° ° ° ° ° ° Интервью с Азумой Хироки [прим. пер. — японский критик-культуролог] Кристиан Возники: Значит, Анно изменил оригинальный сюжет истории, когда узнал о вторжении полицейских в убежище секты «Аум Синрикё». Он изменил сюжет, потому что он был слишком близок к реальности?Азума Хироки: Да, он так сказал.Кристиан Возники: Но почему он изменил его? Что плохого в том, что «Евангелион» так близок к случаю с «Синрикё»?Азума Хироки: Анно считал, что первоначальный сценарий не будет пригоден для показа на ТВ.Кристиан Возники: Так значит, он боялся цензуры.Азума Хироки: Чего-то вроде цензуры. Но это очень типичная ситуация для аниме. ТВ анимация предназначена для просмотра лицам моложе пятнадцати или шестнадцати лет. И я думаю, что если бы это не стало причиной, то Анно мог бы подумать, что его очевидное сходство с реальностью уменьшило бы творческий потенциал «Евангелиона». Но в любом случае, оригинальный сценарий шокирующе близок к политической мотивации группы «Аум Синрикё» – они [прим. пер. – пилоты «Евы» и вся организация NERV] сражаются против главной идеи врага, не осознавая, каков враг на самом деле. Ангелы меняют свою форму, например, в пирамиду или тень.Я спросил у Анно о таких абстрактных особенностях ангелов. Он сказал, что они отражают чувства его поколения. Для его поколения враг не связан с политикой. Он также и неясен. Когда я напомнил Анно, что такие абстрактные особенности врага очень близки к концепции «Аум Синрикё» (например, ядовитый газ), он с этим согласился. Он также признал сходство «Евангелиона» с «Аум Синрикё». Тем не менее, слишком глупо делать выводы, что Анно симпатизировал идее «Аум Синрикё». Он делает акцент на закрытость и исключительность этой группы. Они потеряли всякую связь с реальностью. С точки зрения Анно, это очень похоже на ситуацию с аниме-фанатами. На самом деле «Евангелион» критикует фанатов аниме и культуру аниме: оно начинается с неоднозначных заигрываний с условиями, которые имеют отношение к «Аум Синрикё», и заканчивается критикой, так как был сделан из-за ситуации с поклонниками аниме.Кристиан Возники: Но неужели вы думаете, что параллели с «Аум Синрикё» характеризуют уникальность «Евангелиона»?Азума Хироки: Я признаю, что близость к «Аум Синрикё» не является привилегией «Евангелиона». Дело в том, что «Евангелион» является внутренним критическим анализом «Аум Синрикё». Карьера Анно очень близка к «Аум Синрикё». Фанат аниме является типичным японским отаку. Предприятие «Аум Синрикё» всерьёз взялось за культурные территории отаку. * * * Азума Хироки: В девятнадцатом эпизоде Ева-01 наносит удар врагу – чёрному Евангелиону. Эта сцена очень яростная и жестокая. Такие ужасные образы не могут быть приняты фанатами аниме.Кристиан Возники: Были ли споры по поводу этой конкретной сцены?Азума Хироки: Анно не очень отчётливо говорил об этой проблеме. Он лишь сказал, что кто-то подал жалобу. Продюсер телепрограммы, рекламодатели… Не знаю. Скорее всего, это щекотливый вопрос.Кристиан Возники: Как «Евангелион» связан с аниме по типу «Акиры», где акцент снижается и делается только на образности и визуальных компонентах?Азума Хироки: Я спрашивал об этом у Анно, и его ответ был совершенно ясен. В анимациях, которые сняты Отомо («Акира») и Осии («Призрак в доспехах»), упор всё больше делается на прорисовывании кучи деталей в одном кадре. У Анно совершенно иной стиль. * * * Кристиан Возники: Анно любит Мураками?Азума Хироки: Он любит «Фашизм любви и фантазии».Кристиан Возники: Да, именно этот роман, потому что он использовал те же самые имена [прим. пер. — Тодзи Судзухара и Кенске Айда] для школьных друзей Синдзи.Азума Хироки: Однако Анно больше всего заинтересован в персонаже по имени «Зеро». Возможно, Рей и есть Зеро, т.к. «Рей» в переводе с японского на самом деле означает «ноль». Но в любом случае я хотел сказать, что Мураками опубликовал новый роман «Вирус». Этот роман не очень интересен, но суть в том, что вирус там представлен как абстрактный враг, хотя является материалистичным. Материалистичен, но абстрактен – эта двойственность очень важна для Мураками и почти всех современных писателей. Как вам известно, ангелы Анно имеют такую же двойственность. Вы можете увидеть, что в некоторых эпизодах ангелы принимают форму вируса. «Евангелион» описывает понятие «врага» как ситуацию у японцев в 90-х, как «Аум Синрикё». В 90-х японцы жаловались на то, что ухудшалась экономика, общество и т.п. Многие критически относятся к этой ситуации, когда сами не могут отследить источник такого развития. Их чувства циркулируют напрасно, не определяя, каков враг на самом деле. Это состояние хорошо описано в «Евангелионе».Кристиан Возники: В этом аниме столько загадочности. У меня сложилось впечатление, что Анно построил историю, внедряя кучу деталей и предысторий для того, чтобы сбить с толку очередного аниме-зрителя, которой обычно следует и интерпретирует сюжет на всех уровнях.Азума Хироки: На мой взгляд, Анно начал «Евангелион» с идеей окончательно раскрыть все таинственные моменты. Мне кажется, в середине он передумал. Он решил не разгадывать тайны, но приумножить их, что являлось бы другим способом раскритиковать зрительные привычки своей аудитории. Поскольку всё это может казаться очень интеллектуальным, я должен отметить, что интеллектуальная традиция Анно (а у меня очень сильное впечатление об Анно-интеллектуале) не совпадает с интеллектуальными движениями 80-х годов, как было с «New Aka». ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- «Хидеаки Анно разговаривает с детьми» (статья Justin Sevakis) Отрывок из интервью с Анно, где дети задавали ему следующие вопросы: — Почему робот называется «Евангелионом»? Хидеаки Анно: Это название происходит от христианского слова, означающего «Евангелие», по идее оно приносит благословление. Есть и некоторые греческие корни. Я выбрал его, потому что оно звучит замысловато. — Вам нравится ваше аниме? Хидеаки Анно: Есть части, которые мне нравятся, и есть те, что не нравятся. — Какие части вы не любите? Хидеаки Анно: Части, в которых нахожусь я.Анно также признал, что у него есть проблемы с самооценкой: «Я не в восторге от самого себя. Мне часто говорили, что те, кто себя не любят, имеют высокие идеалы. Но мне кажется, что если кто-то так говорит, на самом деле не осознаёт, какую боль это причиняет». ° ° ° ° ° ° Интервью с Хидеаки Анно и Го Нагаи, опубликовано в артбуке «Devilman Tabulae Anatomicae Kaitaishinsho» Вопрос: Вы оба из двух разных поколений. Каким вы представляли себе монстра, когда были детьми?Хидеаки Анно: Я не был большим поклонником фильмов с монстрами, не настолько, как мастер Нагаи… Я не ненавидел их, но военные фильмы были мне больше по вкусу. После этого я начал с историй про героев, как «Ультрачеловек» («Ultraman»).Го Нагаи: Вы не смотрели «Ультра Q», приквел «Ультрачеловека»?Хидеаки Анно: Я смотрел, но не был особо заинтересован в нём. Мы видели только монстров и жуткие вещи… Можно сделать вывод, что я предпочитаю гигантских героев, нежели монстров.Го Нагаи: Кто-то сказал мне, что «Евангелион» был визуально вдохновлён «Ультрачеловеком», это правда?Хидеаки Анно: «Ева» является «Ультрачеловеческим» персонажем, безусловно. Но, честно говоря, визуальное вдохновение происходит и от «Человека-дьявола» («Devilman»).Го Нагаи: Серьёзно?Хидеаки Анно: Ещё в «Еве» есть немного «Сютен Додзи» («Shuten Douji»). И есть идея, что даже у демонов и людоедов есть свои страшные лица. Думаю, то, что мы называем «властью», поистине что-то пугающее. Поэтому, когда мы должны были делать дизайн, я особенно настаивал, чтобы «Ева» внушала страх. Было бы идеально, если бы дети могли расплакаться, просматривая эпизод. А именно – сделать антигероя, что-то действительно жуткое. Для этого «Человек-дьявол» был прекрасной моделью. Я нарисовал «грубую» версию «Евы», которая была очень похожа на «Человека-дьявола» – с кривой спиной, стройной талией и толстой пластиной грудной клетки. Это был образ, который я создал из «Человека-дьявола». Но у «Евы» есть также что-то общее с «Мазингер Зет» («Mazinger Z»). Там тоже было страшное демоническое лицо. * * * Го Нагаи: В киноверсии «Евангелиона» ваше использование беспощадной реальности весьма недурно…Хидеаки Анно: Всё верно… Мы также ввели понятие каннибализма. Но его трудно сделать в анимации пугающим.Го Нагаи: По мне так это было достаточно эффектно!Хидеаки Анно: Было бы идеально, если бы детей начало тошнить при просмотре «Евы», но у них даже не было малейшего отвращения. Им должно было быть плохо. Потому что я считаю, что лучше показывать отвратительные вещи как есть. Если нам удалось передать эмоцию, что жестокие вещи действительно являются жестокими, значит, миссия удалась. Когда кто-то говорит: «Это слишком ужасно, слишком жестоко!», меня это радует, потому что это здоровая и нормальная реакция. Когда говорят: «Я не могу это смотреть, это слишком», я отвечаю: «Окееей!» (смех).Го Нагаи: На самом деле это выглядело очень шокирующе. Но когда я сам рисую такие вещи, у меня нет такой реакции. Только когда я зритель, это выглядит ужасающим. Я не знаю, как у тебя и у остальных, но когда я рисую, у меня совершенно другая личность. В такие моменты появляется настолько сильное желание повлиять на читателя, что я даже не задумываюсь о последствиях.Тошимичи Отсуки: Что ж, Анно, как вы!Хидеаки Анно: В разновидностях жанра мехи, есть тип изображения, где робот появляется за горой. Я хотел сделать что-то наподобие такого с «Евангелионом», в честь сцены, где Киндан [прим.пер. — персонаж «The Great campaign of Mechanical Beasts»] устроил засаду в битве с «механическими чудовищами», которая мне очень понравилась. Именно в этот момент я сказал себе: «Чёрт, чтобы я не делал, я всё равно не могу избежать влияния Го Нагаи».Го Нагаи: В любом случае у вас была превосходная идея с концепцией целого города под землёй!Хидеаки Анно: Сначала идея пришла ко мне от видеоигр. К тому же рисовать здания очень трудно, так что я подумал, что мы бы могли в будущем скрыть их под землёй, и это облегчило бы мне задачу! (смех) Была также и графическая проблема. Вот почему все эти подземные города содержали целые леса. Их легко рисовать, и они дают общее представление о размере роботов, так как деревья достигают их лодыжек. Это было техническим решением задолго до всего остального.Го Нагаи: Как бы то ни было, вышло отлично.Хидеаки Анно: Вообще (с «Евангелионом»), я думал только о возобновлении жанра. По сути, это всё тот же «Мазингер Зэт». Я всё думал, как бы выглядел «Мазингер Зэт», если бы его создали только сейчас. Например, обучение пилотов в лабораториях… Но со временем это ушло на самотёк. * * * Тошимичи Отсуки: Но разъясните мне одну ситуацию, Анно. В киноверсии «Евангелиона» организация NERV сражается против армии… Что же касается интриги, мне это напомнило мангу «Бессовестная школа», где была война между министерством образования и школой бесстыдников. С одной стороны, вы получили тех, кто поддерживает тотальную войну, говоря, что это оправдано. Но с другой стороны есть те, кто говорят, что это будет резнёй. Когда я смотрел фильм в кинотеатре, я отметил для себя, что это было похоже на серьёзную версию окончания «Бессовестной школы»…Хидеаки Анно: На самом деле уже с того времени, когда мы создали ТВ-сериал (который предшествовал фильму), я задумывался об образе общества, как врага. Поэтому в конечном итоге персонажи, связанные с правительством – с нашей точки зрения, – фактически являлись формой власти. Эта история, которая показывает, как взрослые разрушают жизнь детей. Я не могу сказать, что я полностью против системы, но с самого детства у меня было смутное впечатление, что я был словно зажат из-за давления вокруг меня. ° ° ° ° ° ° Дискуссия между Bochan_bird и Fumihiro Joyu (отрывок) [13.12.1999] — Я видел какие-то странные флаеры, когда был в Японии два года назад. Интересно, что за название было у группы, которая создавала эти флаеры. Надеюсь, это не нашумевшая секта «Аум Синрикё»…— Да, «Аум Синрикё» – это секта, которая использовала дизайн «Евангелиона» в своих флаерах. Они больше не пользуются «Евангелионом» в качестве наглядного пособия, так как привлекли внимание СМИ и, возможно, ещё потому, что GAINAX пригрозили им судебным разбирательством. Что же касается использования «Евангелиона» в самой секте, то кто знает… ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Интервью с Хидеаки Анно и Комацу Сакё [прим. пер. — японский писатель] для журнала «SF Japan» Комацу: Меня интересует кое-что, что связано с «Евангелионом нового поколения», снятого Анно-саном. Смысл слова «Евангелион» ассоциируется с образом мыслей, который появляется в христианской эсхатологии. Какова причина добавления такой коннотации в название вашей работы?Анно: По правде говоря, у названия не было такого глубокого значения (смех). Хотя меня часто осуждают, когда я так говорю. Значение оригинального слова, если я не ошибаюсь, что-то вроде «возглас победы».Комацу: По какой причине в «Евангелионе» появились «эсхатологические» элементы?Анно: Они были придуманы по ходу работы (смех).Комацу: Серьёзно, это ужасно (смех). Но, конечно, удивительно, что вы создали историю с таким глубоким смыслом.Интервьюер: До сих пор было многое сказано о «Евангелионе», но можно также отметить, что это аниме в первую очередь сталкивается с такими понятиями, как «теология или эволюционная теория».Анно: Это был просто педантизм.Комацу: Значит, у вас не было особого интереса к христианству…Анно: Нет. Полагаю, это было удобным материалом для формирования истории. Мне кажется, религия обычно неуместна в Японии. В Японии ничего не культивировали, кроме «исконных чувств» или спиритуалистических религий. На первый взгляд, есть части повседневной жизни, которые якобы имеют корни буддизма, но в действительности буддизм практикуется разве что только на похоронах.Комацу: Говорят, что местная религия в Японии – спиритуализм, но это не просто «пан-спиритуализм». Видите ли, дело обстоит так: в горах есть Бог горы, в реке есть Бог реки. Его особенность в том, что всё в мире становится объектом религии. Мнение, что нужно было прекратить это примитивное и постыдное явление, сначала появилось в эпоху Мэйдзи, затем сразу же после войны.Интервьюер: Анно-сан, вы говорите, что это было просто удобным материалом [прим. пер. — для формирования истории], но что вы думаете о той структуре? Ницше говорил, что «Бог умер», если это так, не будет ли идея «давайте создадим Бога» версией сай-фай? В «Евангелионе» тоже есть такие моменты.Анно: Потому что первоначально Бог был создан людьми. Я считаю, что есть превосходящее существо, но этот образ был сфабрикован. Не думаю, что это важно, если у каждого есть собственный Бог. Другими словами, я вовсе не намерен отречься от религии. Я только не соглашаюсь с тем, что всем необходимо иметь одинакового Бога.Комацу: И тогда есть эволюционная теория Дарвина. Это основа современной науки, однако теория в конце концов также приходит к тому, что самая развитая форма жизни – человек. Но я задумался, действительно ли люди настолько замечательны. Поэтому я стал размышлять над тем, что, возможно, есть те, кто превосходят людей. В итоге я стал писать научную фантастику, где появились инопланетяне. Ранее обсуждалась фраза «возглас победы». Анно-кун, что вы думаете о спасении?Анно: «Евангелион» также включает в себя что-то вроде истории спасения, но это не истинное спасение. Задумываясь о предназначении человечества, я стал заимствовать элементы из христианства. Это как ставить под вопрос эволюцию человечества или смысл существования, я пытался сделать что-то на тему предназначения человечества.Интервьюер: В работе Анно-сана появляется тип инопланетянина или форма жизни, которая причиняет боль людям при контакте с ними.Анно: Это более реалистично, что инопланетяне непостижимы. Даже инопланетяне, на которых вы смотрите в ТВ-передачах, могут разговаривать на японском языке, и это на Земле, где они по идее появляются в первый раз. Не думаю, что что-то подобное является инопланетянином (смех).Интервьюер: Интересно, были ли Ева и Лилит разумными формами жизни.Анно: Меня больше волнует не разум, а скорее наличие у них сердца. Другими словами – проблема души. Что касается сердца и тела, было много сказано про их двойственность, но мне кажется, что они две стороны одной медали.Интервьюер: Комацу-сан, что вы думаете о проблеме души и сердца?Комацу: Я думаю, сердце – это то, чем млекопитающие всё-таки могут поделиться с другими. Однако в случае инопланетной расы дело обстоит иначе. Что касается разума, вполне возможно, что есть разумные существа, неспособные к контакту с людьми. Вникать в суть проблемы – в этом привлекательность научной фантастики. Было бы здорово, если бы мир был похож на вселенную «Звёздного Пути» («Star Trek»), хотя…Анно: Когда я тщательно анализирую это, я думаю как есть. Я не ненавижу «Звёздный Путь», но не особо в него вникаю. Можно в нём заметить что-то вроде высокомерия Америки. В этой истории они просвещают местных жителей тех планет, которых достигли, и влияют на них. Или заводят романы с самыми замечательными женщинами их планет во время сражений. Я чувствую в этом американский империализм.Комацу: Не просто империализм – это навязывание христианского чувства справедливости.Анно: В этом же духе почему-то марксисты изображены как первобытные люди. Я не могу привыкнуть к такому американскому мировоззрению. Я считаю, что звездолёт «Энтерпрайз» классный, но… ° ° ° ° ° ° Значения имён (из личного веб-сайта Хидеаки Анно) 2.11.2000 Синдзи Икари Икари – означает «якорь», компонент корабля. Ещё это имя друга Анно с колледжа. Также имя «Синдзи» относится к давнему другу Анно – Синдзи Хигучи. Учитывая, что имена его жены и дочери [прим. пер. – Синдзи Хигучи] были использованы для главных героинь аниме, Анно хотел сделать то же самое и с именем «Синдзи», чтобы сделать этих персонажей семьёй, однако его обоснование не было слишком логичным.В интервью 2008 года Хигучи спросили: «В «Евангелионе» Синдзи назвали, предположительно, в честь вас. Есть ли у вас история об этом?» На что Хигучи ответил: «Это была идея режиссёра Анно в качестве раздражающей шутки. Столько ужасных вещей происходит с Синдзи, и это был способ для Анно и остальных называть его «дурак Синдзи». [На английском] Почему Синдзи? Почему я?»Рей Аянами Аянами – название эсминца класса «Фубуки». Рей – это игра слов на основе иероглифа «零», что означает «ноль», но на самом деле она названа в честь Рей Хино из «Сейлор Мун». Анно писал: «В то время это было приманкой, чтобы пригласить Ику-чана к сотрудникам, но он сбежал. Очень жаль».«Ику-чан» относится к Кунихико Икухара [прим.ред. — известный японский художник, работавший над «Сейлор Мун», «Юной революционеркой Утеной» и т.д.]Аска Сорью Ленгли Сорью – название лёгкого авианосца. Ленгли – название американского авианосца. Имя «Аска» было взято у главной героини манги Синдзи Вады («Chou-Shoujo Asuka»).Мисато Кацураги Кацураги – название лёгкого авианосца класса «Унрю». Имя «Мисато» было взято у героини манги Минако Нариты (Misato Izumi).Рицуко Акаги Акаги – название тяжёлого авианосца. Имя «Рицуко» относится к подруге Анно, с которой он учился в средней школе.Рёдзи Кадзи Кадзи – означает «руль», компонент корабля. Имя «Рёдзи» было взято у героя манги Минако Нариты (Ryoji Sawada). 13.11.2000 Гендо Икари Икари – означает «якорь», компонент корабля. Прежняя фамилия Гендо – Рокобунги, что означает «секстант», тоже компонент корабля.Кодзо Фуюцуки Фуюцуки – название эсминца класса «Акидзуки». Имя «Кодзо» было выбрано из-за хорошего звучания с фамилией.Юи Икари Икари – означает «якорь», компонент корабля. Имя «Юи» звучит одинаково с «Рей», и это также игра слов на основе иероглифа «唯», что означает «единственная».Кил Лоренц Кил – означает «киль», компонент корабля. Фамилия «Лоренц» создана на основе имени австрийского зоолога Конрада Лоренца, занимавшегося исследованием психологии животных.Наоко Акаги Акаги – название тяжёлого авианосца. Имя «Наоко» относится к подруге Анно, с которой он учился в начальной школе.Кёко Цеппелин Сорью Сорью – название лёгкого авианосца. Имя «Кёко» было также взято у героя из манги Синдзи Вады. Цеппелин – фамилия знаменитого немецкого строителя дирижаблей.Пен-Пен Пен – сокращение от английского слова «пингвин» (penguin). 17.11.2000 Макото Хьюга Хьюга – название линейного корабля класса «Исэ». Анно не сообщил ничего конкретного о причине выбора имени «Макото».Шигеру Аоба Аоба – название тяжёлого крейсера. Имя «Шигеру» — отсылка на название фильма «Аоба Шигереру» режиссёра Окамото Кихати.Майя Ибуки Ибуки – название авианосца. Майя – название тяжёлого крейсера. Сочетание выбрано из-за хорошего звучания.Тодзи Судзухара и Кенске Айда Их имена – отсылки на главных героев современного романа Рю Мураками «Фашизм любви и фантазии».Хикари Хораки Хораки – было взято из книги Мураками. Имена сестёр Хораки – Нодзоми, Хикари и Кодама – названия типов поездов (соответственно: экспресс, скорый и пассажирский) японской железной дороги «Синкансэн».Каору Нагиса Нагиса – означает «побережье». Каору – означает «благоухать». «Каору» – это также имя одного из главных героев «Повести о Гэндзи» [Genji Monogatari], классического японского романа. Этот персонаж – яркое воплощение очень популярного впоследствии образа: образованного, умного, утонченного романтического героя. Кстати, в романе его тело действительно источало сладостный аромат свежего дерева.Примечание переводчика: Все имена ангелов взяты из иудаистских эзотерических книг (в том числе и из «Каббалы»). Почти все они содержат суффикс «иль» или «эль» («Бог» в семитских языках) и означают различные «характеристики» Бога, скажем, «мудрость» или «силу». «Лилит» в семитской мифологии – демон пустыни, а в мусульманской – вторая жена Адама, от которой произошли демонические существа (в частности джинны). ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Интервью с Кадзуя Цурумаки (статья Owen Thomas) Интервьюер: Почему «Евангелион» заканчивается жестоко и довольно печально?Кадзуя Цурумаки: Люди привыкли к приятным, натянутым, счастливым концовкам. Мы хотели расширить жанр и показать людям скверный, грустный конец.Интервьюер: Почему у Синдзи такой характер?Кадзуя Цурумаки: Синдзи был смоделирован по образу режиссёра Хидеаки Анно. Синдзи был вызван отцом, чтобы пилотировать робота – Анно был вызван студией GAINAX, чтобы снимать анимацию. Работая над «Надей», он всё гадал, хотелось ли ему продолжать в том же духе. Он думал, что работа над «Евой» могла помочь ему измениться.Интервьюер: Есть ли конкретная причина, почему во многих сериях GAINAX главные герои – молодые мужчины без родителей – очень взволнованы и несчастны?Кадзуя Цурумаки: Да, режиссёры в GAINAX в основном слабые, неуверенные, озлобленные молодые люди. Как и многие поклонники аниме. Во многих японских семьях, включая мою собственную, есть отцы-трудоголики, чьи дети никогда их не видят. Они могут повлиять на сериалы, которые я создаю.Интервьюер: Если ли причина, почему в прокатную версию «Евангелиона» включены дополнительные сцены, которые сперва были сокращены? Задумывались ли вы, что вся история могла бы означать что-то другое с первоначальными сценами?Кадзуя Цурумаки: Сцены, которые были добавлены в прокатную версию «Евы», не настолько важны. Мы добавили их как извинение за то, что потребовалось много времени, чтобы выпустить аниме в прокат. Возможно, это поможет людям кое-что осознать, потому что эпизоды были сделаны в жёстких сроках с первого раза.Интервьюер: Ранее вы говорили, что пытаетесь расширить жанр, дав «Еве» печальный конец. Утомляет ли вас однообразие нынешнего аниме?Кадзуя Цурумаки: Во-первых, мы не использовали печальную концовку, чтобы досадить фанатам. Расстроены ли они – вот что на самом деле нас волнует. Лично я думаю, что счастливый конец – это нормально, но не в том случае, если он слишком легко достигнут. Это вот как раз плохо.Интервьюер: Вы можете объяснить символику креста в «Евангелионе»?Кадзуя Цурумаки: В Японии полно мехи, и мы действительно хотели, чтобы у нашей истории была религиозная тема, чтобы нас выделить. Так как христианство – необычная религия для Японии, мы подумали, что это будет загадочно. Никто из сотрудников, работающих над «Евой», не являлись христианами. В этом сериале нет никаких фактических христианских значений, мы просто думали, что визуальные символы христианства выглядят круто. Если бы мы знали, что сериал распространят в США и Европе, мы бы могли переосмыслить этот выбор. ° ° ° ° ° ° Интервью с Мегуми Огата (статья Dany Johnson) Интервьюер: Пожалуй, вы хорошо известны в Америке озвучиванием Синдзи в «Евангелионе». Некоторые реплики Синдзи были иногда похожи на импровизацию. Вы сталкивались с импровизацией и экспериментированием, когда работали над «Евангелионом»?Мегуми Огата: Я рада, что вы думаете, что я звучала естественно, словно импровизируя. Не припомню, чтобы я экспериментировала. Был момент, когда я на самом деле толкнула Юко Миямуру на пол, чтобы задушить её во время последней сцены в фильме «Евангелиона», где Синдзи душит Аску. Я не смогла хорошо сыграть в этой сцене. Я была так взволнована, что душила её слишком сильно какое-то время, не давая ей возможности сказать её реплики. Конечно, я потом перед ней извинилась. Я ведь чуть её не убила.Интервьюер: В США показывали версию «Сейлор Мун», которая подверглась цензуре. Харуку и Мичиру превратили в кузенов, и большая часть диалогов была изменена. Когда сериал впервые показали в Японии, был ли какой-нибудь конфликт с родителями или религиозными лидерами?Мегуми Огата: Когда меня выбрали для роли Харуки, я спросила у режиссёра Кунихико Икухары: «Они лесбиянки?» На что он ответил: «Играй так, словно они супружеская пара». И я снова его спросила: «Супружеская пара? То есть из двух девушек?» Он ответил: «Да». Так что они были мужем и женой. Их появление на ТВ было сенсационным, чем-то неслыханным в телевизионных мультфильмах. И сериал показывали каждую субботу в семь часов вечера, когда каждый член семьи был поблизости к ТВ. Несмотря на это, кажется, нам удалось завоевать сердце зрителя. Рейтинг сериала продолжал расти, и я получала много писем от поклонников, нежели раньше. Так как многие смотрели сериал вместе со своей семьёй, не только поклонники аниме, но также маленькие дети и их мамы стали нашими фанатами. Было время, когда меня называли «мадам Казанова».Уверена, что аниме также имело отношение к гомосексуалистам. Я слышала, что «Сейлор Мун» была темой обсуждения в Синдзюку нитёмэ, известном районе геев в Японии. Конечно, это, возможно, вызвало противоречие в некоторых строгих, религиозных семьях, но развлечение одержало победу над религиозными фанатиками. Может, потому, что Япония не столь религиозная страна, как США. Но аниме не только о девочках с мини-юбками и гомосексуальных парах. Оно сосредотачивается на очень важных аспектах поведения человека, и оно очень хорошо написано. Аниме заслужило популярность. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Интервью с Кобуно Сидзуно во время аниме фестиваля в Нью Йорке (статья Gia Manry и Adam Ghahramani) * Кобун Сидзуно – второй режиссёр новых фильмов по «Евангелиону» Чьей идеей было создание новых фильмов по «Евангелиону», и как она появилась? — Проект был идеей Хидеаки Анно. Я знаю только то, что после разработки концепта он собрал команду, членом которой я и являюсь. Как вы стали частью команды? — Десять лет назад, когда шёл показ ТВ-сериала, я не был частью команды, более того, я даже не работал в аниме-индустрии. В какой-то степени именно благодаря «Евангелиону» я заинтересовался анимацией. За прошедшие десять лет я работал над разными проектами, собирал портфолио, и так вышло, что мне позвонили. Я всегда хотел работать над «Евангелионом», но предложение присоединиться к проекту было чудесным совпадением, и я был счастлив принять в нём участие. Как поклонник «Евы», как вы думаете, почему сериал так долго остаётся популярным? — Я не совсем уверен в причине её популярности и в причине моей заинтересованности. Если бы знал, то, возможно, сам бы создал свой сериал, который был бы сейчас так же популярен! Мне известно только то, что у режиссёра и других сотрудников проекта есть убедительный замысел, который не поддаётся чёткому объяснению. Какова была ваша роль в создании фильма? — Главная особенность новых фильмов «Евангелиона» – они сняты по стандартам американской анимации. Сначала мы записали голоса сейю, а затем наложили их на анимированные изображения, тогда как раньше в Японии сначала работали над кадрами и потом подстраивали под них персонажей. Моя основная работа начиналась после работы редактора. Он делал первый цикл обработки всех прорисованных изображений, затем я получал их и продолжал над ними работать, чтобы анимация была более плавной. Было ли трудно снова собрать тех, кто работал над ТВ-сериалом? — Я не принимал в этом участия, но, кажется, режиссёр только позвонил, и все сразу же собрались. Без раскрытия спойлеров – каких различий между сериалом и предстоящими фильмами стоит ожидать фанатам? — Появились новые визуальные эффекты, дизайны, обновилась колоризация. Так как мы сначала записывали голоса, нам удалось получить разные выражения лица сейю. Будут новые сюжеты и также новые истории. Это блестящая работа, и я надеюсь, что фанатам понравится. Что было самым трудным в создании фильмов? — Я бы не сказал, что были какие-то серьёзные препятствия или затруднения, было как раз наоборот. Так как оригинальный «Евангелион» имел огромный успех в Японии, многие сотрудники за прошедшее время стали большими шишками в анимации. Поэтому это было невероятной возможностью работать среди лучших в анимации, и я не помню никаких трудностей. ° ° ° ° ° ° Интервью с Кунихико Икухарой для книги про Каору Нагису (переведено Numbers-kun) Чудесная сила слов «Ты прекрасен, будучи тем, кем являешься» Кто сказал, что именно я был прототипом для создания Каору? Как один из участников, я не был в это вовлечён. Каору, в отличие от меня, очень красивый, и если бы я сказал, что был его живой моделью, то, скорее всего, получил бы много жалоб от его поклонников.Хотя, это не значит, что я не имел к этому отношения.В то время, когда «Евангелион» находился только-только в стадии разработки, я тесно общался с господином Хидеаки. Он, я и наши коллеги по «Сейлор Мун» отправились в деловую поездку. В итоге всё закончилось тем, что я и Анно-сан разговаривали всю ночь. Даже после того, как все заснули, мы продолжали пить саке и разговаривать, сидя бок о бок в купальне под открытым небом. У диалога Каору и Синдзи была такая же атмосфера. Я словно попал в ту ночь, когда смотрел двадцать четвёртый эпизод. Ну и достаточно просто понять, что c ситуацией в купальне было так же. Но, кажется, ходят слухи, что я сказал Анно, будто бы «его сердце достойно любви» и так далее (смех). Думаю, это один из тех случаев, когда Анно не представлял себя в роли Синдзи.Я помню, как рассказывал ему о своей юности. Мне было около четырнадцати лет, когда я находился в жутком отчаянии, думая, что у меня весьма мрачные жизненные перспективы. Я жил с ощущением, что мне не простят ни единой ошибки. Я думал, что умру прежде, чем мне исполнится двадцать. И тот факт, что я рассказал об этом Анно, сильно повлиял на будущее каждого из нас…Синдзи получил приказ от отца прибыть в город-крепость, его бьёт Аянами, Мисато чуть что начинает кричать, Аска считает своим долгом унизить его… Синдзи абсолютно лишён какой-либо поддержки. И единственным, кто принимает его таким, какой он есть, был Каору. «Тебе не нужно так сильно стараться». Возможно, особое значение имело и то, что он появился последним. Синдзи только теперь постигает счастье таких крепких уз.«Ты прекрасен, будучи тем, кем являешься» – разве это не то, что я всегда говорю? ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Два коротких интервью с сейю героинь «Евангелиона», задействованных во втором фильме «Ребилда» — Мегуми Хаясибарой и Маей Сакамото[чужой перевод, подредактированная версия] Рей и Мегуми Хаясибара проникают в красоту «Евы» Интервьюер: Что вас впечатлило при общении с Анно и Цурумаки?— Хммм, как там было… – Полагаюсь на тебя… эм… как бы… целиком… в общем… и полностью. – Правда?.. Что ж, раз так… хорошо, – а сама потихоньку нащупываю подходящий момент и бросаю уже себе: – Вот и славно… А на сердце неладно: – Запинается, сегодня что-то не так… Всего лишь несколько слов, а такая жуткая концентрация. Но тем, кто этого не замечает, не понять и того, что здесь могло бы быть уместно, а что нет. Ведь, как это бывает, хочешь одного, ожидаешь другого… А в итоге создаётся «очень-очень приятная» гармоничная атмосфера. Тут главное не переусердствовать и вообще остерегаться крайностей; безмятежный разум не даёт полностью раскрыться всей «красоте» речи (когда она всецело согласуется с позицией и взглядами персонажа), поскольку тут же возникают всяческие трудности.Интервьюер: Поделитесь с нами своими впечатлениями после прочтения сценария.— Вау! Не ожидала! Это прорыв! Прорыв! Отпад, меня прорвало!Интервьюер: Не возникало ли чувство повторения, когда вы озвучивали Рей в фильме?— Нет, просто всё так же. То есть, конечно, это уже было, но это не повторение.Интервьюер: Не показалось ли вам, что в Рей что-то изменили?— Изменили? Интересно… Рост, вес? Однако… Знаете, я тут поразмыслила над её характером по сравнению с сериалом и не сказала бы, что она изменилась.Интервьюер: Как вам кажется, в чём собственно изменилась «Ева»?— Стало чуточку светлее, как-то радостнее на душе, но только и всего. В том же сериале, прежде чем поделиться чувствами друг с другом, Аска и Синдзи так же играли в игры, так же развлекались с Кенске и Тодзи. И всё это очень странно. Здесь явно какой-то подвох. * * * Мари и Мая Сакамото разрушают сущность «Евы» Интервьюер: Можно сказать, что Мари это символ переродившейся «Евы», а как вы сами её воспринимаете?— Ну, наверняка ей отвели какую-то определённую роль в «Евангелионе». Если честно, когда я впервые прочитала сценарий, то практически ничего не поняла. Я попыталась представить, как это всё будет выглядеть, прокрутив реплики в своём воображении, но всё никак не могла вжиться. И в день записи мне пришлось переговорить с Анно и Цурумаки, чтобы во всём разобраться. Так вот, я не имела возможности самостоятельно изучить и как следует отрепетировать роль, и поначалу мне приходилось играть в основном интуитивно. Лишь благодаря указаниям режиссёра и своему довольно гибкому мышлению я постепенно втянулась в образ.Интервьюер: Вы были морально готовы к тому, что будете озвучивать Мари?— Я из тех, кто ходит на работу серой мышкой; обращаюсь к персоналу, когда что-то непонятно, и стараюсь прилежно исполнять свои обязанности… Но как бы там ни было, в Мари очень много непонятного. Зацепок практически никаких. У любого, кто увидит её впервые, сложится подобное впечатление.Интервьюер: Как вам студия звукозаписи?— Огата очень беспокоилась за меня. Сразу объяснила, что в студии куча ритейков [прим. пер.: retake – внесение правок в анимацию с возможным добавлением новых сцен и переозвучкой], но это в порядке вещей. Дескать, не волнуйся, всё путём. Зная, что студия огромна, новички вроде меня решат, что здесь, по меньшей мере, сотня ритейков. Даже если так и было, я уже набралась решимости и была готова ко всему (смех).Интервьюер: Значит, перед записью вам представилась возможность обсудить Мари с Хидеаки Анно?— Сначала я много чего хотела услышать из его уст. Однако он лишь мало-помалу рассказывал, мол, Мари такая-то, такая-то девочка. Его речь была спокойной и размеренной, но одна фраза меня настолько поразила, что я сразу всё поняла. Мы сидели примерно минут десять, но я вдруг почувствовала, как Анно раз – и втянул меня в мир «Евангелиона». «Ну что, попробуешь?» – и из меня тут же вырвалось: «Да!»Интервьюер: Что же вас так впечатлило в его рассказе?— Он говорил, что хочет, чтобы Мари разрушила «прежнюю Еву».Интервьюер: Какие были инструкции во время записи?— Анно обрисовывал Мари как-то расплывчато, в общих чертах. Цурумаки же, напротив, давал мне подробные указания.Интервьюер: Напутствие режиссёров как-то сказалось на результате?— Когда я услышала о «разрушении», то осознала, какая важная роль и в то же время чрезвычайно ответственная миссия на меня возложена. Я уверена: чтобы разрушить столь въевшийся образ произведения, новое творение должно быть чудовищной авантюрой. И я отбросила все волнения об уходе от «прежней Евы» и решилась озвучивать Мари как некий инородный элемент, который так понадобился нынешнему Анно. ° ° ° ° ° ° Интервью с Ёсиюки Садамото для журнала «Young Ace» Young Ace: События в манге «Евангелион» стали сильно отличаться от сюжета оригинальных ТВ серий. Вы можете рассказать нам, к чему это приведёт?Садамото: Оригинальный фильм «Конец Евангелиона» в действительности выражал психологическое состояние Хидеаки Анно в то время. Я позаимствовал эту историю у Анно в качестве основы, пропуская её через призму собственной интерпретации. По сути, я всегда воспринимал «Евангелион» как историю взаимоотношений отца и сына. С самого начала выпуска манги я придерживался именно этой точки зрения, и мне бы хотелось придерживаться её до самого конца.Young Ace: Как вы связаны с недавними обновлениями фильма «Евангелион»?Садамото: Новые фильмы первоначально были предназначены для «краткого обзора» ТВ сериала, но можно заметить, особенно в «Ты (не) пройдёшь», что они начали идти в собственном направлении. Темой будет отчуждение если я не ошибаюсь, и не думаю, что история будет связана с моей адаптацией манги. Я бы хотел, чтобы фанаты оценивали новые фильмы и мою версию манги как отдельные истории. * * * Young Ace: Не могли бы вы рассказать немного о своих впечатлениях от новых фильмов «Евангелиона»?Садамото: Новые фильмы очень доступны для понимания! Это действительно меня удивило, совершенно не то, что я ожидал. Есть определённые мелкие детали в подаче, например, как музыка из «Showa Period» играет на заднем плане – мне кажется, она очень в стиле Анно (смех). В целом, насладиться новыми фильмами и оценить их может любой желающий. Анно действительно успокоился с тех пор, как женился (смех).Многие говорят, что Синдзи в новых фильмах более оптимистичный и упрямый, особенно в «Ты (не) пройдёшь», но я всегда считал, что оригинальный фильм «Конец Евангелиона» был исключением. Синдзи в этом фильме довольно мрачный и замкнутый, но у меня никогда не было такого впечатления, когда я смотрел ТВ серии. Я был действительно растроган силой Синдзи и его желанием не сдаваться в «Ты (не) пройдёшь». Также я думаю, что характер Рей вызывал меньше вопросов. Она была более детализирована. Её манера речи была крайне быстрой! (смех) Мне кажется, что в новых фильмах вы действительно сможете почувствовать её постепенное изменение в характере. Аска тоже более дружелюбна. Есть пара отличий от оригинальных серий – она не просто сразу отвергает Синдзи, но фактически показывает степень своей ревности. Её персонаж больше похож на девочку-подростка.Оригинальные серии, оригинальные фильмы и новые фильмы – окна во внутренний мир Анно, так что интересно наблюдать за всеми изменениями.Young Ace: Не могли бы вы рассказать нам немного о создании «Ты (не) пройдёшь»?Садамото: Что ж, мне, конечно, пришлось проектировать дизайн для Мари – нового персонажа. Мне также пришлось разрабатывать школьную форму Мари и контактные комбинезоны для Мари и Каору. К счастью, мне удалось посовещаться с Шигедо Кояма (коллега-художник) по поводу дизайна контактного комбинезона Аски, и я использовал результаты наших обсуждений в её комбинезоне. Я сделал небольшие изменения в дизайнах Синдзи, Рей, Аски и Гендо, также обновил одежду Тодзи, чтобы она выглядела модно. Ещё я был ответственен за цветовые решения в фильме.Мне пришлось сделать реконструкцию машины Мисато, чтобы она выглядела современно. Я также обрабатывал макет дизайна для сцены, где Мари приземляется на крышу – почти как вступление! В фильме это первый раз, когда вы отчётливо видите лицо Мари, поэтому было важно сделать всё правильно. Ох, ещё я сделал тизер-постер с Аской и Мари, а также три отдельных дизайна для предварительных билетов.Young Ace: Что вы подумали, когда в первый раз услышали о Мари? Садамото: Я решил, что это очень подходит новым фильмам, в них следует добавить нового героя. Я приложил все усилия к созданию персонажа, обособленного от Аски и Рей, хотя переживаю, что остались некоторые мелкие сходные детали. По моему замыслу нужен был персонаж настолько не похожий на других, что можно было бы всецело ощутить себя вне мира «Евы». Полагаю, она должна была выйти как «связующее звено» между Аской и Рей, но они обе довольно сильные персонажи, каждая по-своему. Мне хотелось привнести кое-что основательно определяющее Мари. Меня попросили придумать персонажа, который «ходит с зонтиком, как типичная героиня аниме». Изначально я сделал её такой, она смотрелась по-взрослому и посещала строгую частную христианскую школу в Британии. Однако в оригинальном сценарии была сцена, где она возвращается домой, в комнату заполненную птичками и собачками, и начинает разговаривать с ними, что должно было показать её своеобразие. Анно также попросил, чтобы она выглядела как можно более взрослой в манерах и поведении, чем Аска или Рей, чтобы выделить её. И чтобы у неё была большая грудь (смех).Когда я начал создавать Мари, по телевизору шла интересная драма. У главной героини были два длинных хвостика. Мне очень понравилась эта деталь, и я использовал её для образа Мари. Когда всё было завершено, получилось то, что вы сейчас видите, хотя дизайн и напичкан моими личными вкусами и пристрастиями (смех).К слову, я решил нацепить на Мари очки – подумал, что это будет простым, но эффективным способом выделить её среди остальных персонажей. Некоторые считают, что она вовсе не похожа на персонажа «Евангелиона», но именно к этому я и стремился. Тем не менее, я рад, что большинству она понравилась.Young Ace: Как вы пришли к дизайну школьной формы Мари и её контактному комбинезону?Садамото: Меня попросили, чтобы Мари выглядела очень по-британски, так что я попытался спроектировать нечто соответствующее. Я подумал, что сочетание широкого галстука, высоких носков и традиционной клетчатой юбки в качестве школьной формы как раз то, что надо.Для старого контактного комбинезона Мари я объединил насыщенный зелёный цвет, который, как мне кажется, напоминает о британской одежде, с эстетичным дизайном космических скафандров, которые использовали в СССР во времена Холодной Войны. Именно из-за космических скафандров СССР у нижней части комбинезона клетчатый узор. Так как «Ева-05» вооружена копьём, я изучил доспехи для фехтования и попробовал включить их элементы в комбинезон Мари. Я также пририсовал штуковины, напоминающие большие розетки, и всё такое, чтобы он был похож на комбинезоны других пилотов. С другой стороны, я стремился к тому, чтобы её новый комбинезон выглядел более обтекаемым, удобным и утончённым, чем другие. Словно он произведён с использованием передовых технологий. В качестве вдохновения я рассматривал различия между автомобилями серии «Лотус Эллис» 1 и 2. В «Лотусе» действительно есть некое ощущение классического, стремительного дизайна.Young Ace: Стоит ли надеяться, что вы подкинете нам пару намёков о предстоящем третьем фильме «Евангелиона»?Садамото: На самом деле я ничего не слышал от Анно, так что не могу (смех). Даже учитывая, например, что Мари появляется в «Ты (не) одинок» и «Ты (не) пройдёшь», история в некоторой степени следовала ТВ сериалу, но кто знает? Возможно, следующая история будет сильно отличаться от оригинальных серий. Учитывая возможности, будет достаточно интересно увидеть дальнейшее развитие событий.Young Ace: Как думаете, что закончится раньше – новые фильмы или новые выпуски манги?Садамото: Хм… Хороший вопрос (смех). Думаю, я бы хотел сначала завершить мангу и потом перейти к «Q», моему следующему проекту. ° ° ° ° ° ° Интервью между Мегуми Огатой (сейю Синдзи) и Накатой Ацухико (Oriental Radio) из журнала «Continue» Про запись для фильма «Евы 2.0» Огата: Было достаточно тяжело. Запись разделили, и мы работали над вторым фильмом «Евы» в течение нескольких дней, а в последний день записи я в основном постоянно кричала.Наката: До такой степени?!Огата: В конце я уже не могла стоять и рухнула на пол в студии. Пока я там сидела, зашёл режиссёр Анно и уселся рядом со мной. Он сказал: «Большое спасибо», я его тоже поблагодарила, и мы обменялись рукопожатием (смех). Это был первый раз, когда меня похвалил Анно.Наката: Первый раз!Огата: Затем он сказал две вещи, которые действительно меня осчастливили. Первое было: «Спасибо, что оставили чувства персонажа неизменными даже спустя тринадцать лет».Все: Ох!Огата: И второе: «Кроме этого, спасибо, что добавили тринадцать лет собственного опыта к нынешнему Синдзи». ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Интервью с Юко Миямурой (сейю Аски) для Cold Coast Film Festival Колин Фонг: Прошло уже десять лет с тех пор, как закончился сериал «Евангелион нового поколения». Как вы отреагировали на объявление о ремейке в виде четырёх фильмов?Юко Миямура: Сначала я очень удивилась, потому что слышала слова продюсера о том, что они больше не будут делать по «Евангелиону» никаких фильмов. Когда об этом объявили в новостях, я стала с нетерпением их ждать.Колин Фонг: Какие ощущения у вас после озвучивания этой роли во второй раз? Юко Миямура: В «Конце Евангелиона» Аска прошла через очень многое. Как её сейю, я прошла через её боль и горе тоже. В новых фильмах Аска более дружелюбна. Поэтому я почувствовала, что Аска может сблизиться с Синдзи, Рей, Мисато и с остальными. Как актрису, меня это осчастливило.Колин Фонг: Что в её характере вам нравится больше всего?Юко Миямура: Она очень милая. Если бы меня спросили, что именно в ней милого, то я бы отметила её «цундере» характер. «Цундере» в Японии называют людей, которые с одной стороны эгоистичны и раздражимы, а с другой очень одиноки в душе и хотят быть любимыми.Колин Фонг: Вы удивились тому, как сильно отличается Аска из второго фильма от Аски из оригинальных серий?Юко Миямура: Да, удивилась. Не только из-за её изменения личности, но и из-за её нового имени. В оригинальных сериях её звали «Аска Ленгли Сорью». В новых фильмах её зовут «Аска Ленгли Шикинами».Колин Фонг: Почему поменяли последнюю фамилию вашего персонажа?Юко Миямура: Я не могу вам сказать, потому что сама не знаю! Режиссёр Хидеаки Анно держит это в тайне от всех.Колин Фонг: С какими сложными задачами вы столкнулись в роли Аски?Юко Миямура: Роль Аски в новых фильмах была для меня несложной, потому что я была её сейю на протяжении нескольких лет. Однако в новых фильмах я также была сейю «Евангелиона-03». Я впервые озвучивала персонажа-существо, так что для меня это было очень сложно.Колин Фонг: Действительно ли Мегуми Огата (Синдзи) душила вас во время записи для фильма «Конец Евангелиона», чтобы добиться реалистичности?Юко Миямура: Да. Я несколько раз пробовала издать звук удушья, но у меня не получалось. Поэтому Мегуми Огата помогла мне достичь реалистичности, фактически душа меня. Она милашка, не так ли? ° ° ° ° ° ° Интервью с Юко Миямурой для «SMASH» фестиваля в Сиднее ANN.au: По поводу «Евангелиона 2.0», вы озвучиваете Аску. Как бы вы её описали?Юко Миямура: В ТВ сериале «Евангелиона» Аска была более несчастным персонажем. В фильме я хотела, чтобы она была счастлива. Во втором фильме Аска сталкивается с ужасным событием, но я надеюсь, что она сможет преодолеть его и на этот раз достигнет счастья. Я считаю, что она сможет!ANN.au: Вы надеетесь, что в этот раз ей повезёт больше. Думаете, у неё получится?Юко Миямура: (смех) Только режиссёр знает! Он ещё никому не сказал.ANN.au: Если бы Синдзи Икари появился сегодня и сказал: «Для тебя я изменю любую вещь в этом мире», что бы вы попросили?Юко Миямура: Интересно… Наверное, я хотела бы, чтобы он стал более светлым и добродушным мальчиком. * * * ANN.au: Вы когда-нибудь оглядывались назад на свою профессию сейю и думали: «Возможно, я не должна была этим заниматься»?Юко Миямура: Однажды я задумалась над тем, что больше никогда не буду играть роль Аски.ANN.au: Правда?Юко Миямура: В течение очень долгого времени я хотела забыть о «Евангелионе».ANN.au: Было действительно трудно работать над «Евангелионом»?Юко Миямура: Было очень тяжело.ANN.au: Как-то это даже пугает.Юко Миямура: (смех)ANN.au: Учитывая, как популярен сейчас «Евангелион», есть ли у вас японские фанаты, летящие в Австралию или США, чтобы попытаться найти вас, потому что вы озвучивали Аску? Переходят ли они границы дозволенного?Юко Миямура: Когда-то у меня был сталкер и много страшных инцидентов. В последнее время таких сталкеров-поклонников уже не так много, но были люди, которые преследовали меня вплоть до Гавайской конвенции и SMASH, и они скорее как друзья или семья, нежели как фанаты. Они знают обо мне больше, чем мой муж сейчас. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Подкаст интервью (MP3) с Хидеаки Анно (переведено Numbers-kun) Тошио Сузуки: Вы сделали новую «Еву» на свои деньги?Хидеаки Анно: Да.Тошио Сузуки: Невероятно.Хидеаки Анно: Безусловно. Это риск, но также и возможность вернуться. ° ° ° ° ° ° Интервью с Ёсиюки Садамото из официального гайдбука по манге «Евангелион» (переведено Numbers-kun) Вопрос: Прошло уже шестнадцать лет с момента первого выпуска манги. Для начала расскажите нам, как вы сейчас себя чувствуете.Садамото: Шестнадцать лет… Это очень долго. По правде говоря, даже я удивлён, что до сих пор работаю над ней. Я искренне сожалею.Вопрос: Каково это на самом деле переносить аниме в мангу?Садамото: Может показаться, что адаптация оригинальной работы требует намного меньше усилий, чем само написание оригинальной работы, но это не тот случай… Я всегда волнуюсь из-за разницы между аниме и адаптацией. Если вы слишком сильно что-то меняете, манга может закончиться тем, что в итоге перестанет быть «Евой».Вопрос: Так как выпуски продолжаются, были ли какие-нибудь изменения в вашей позиции по отношению к «Еве», как к работе?Садамото: Моё окружение и трактовка вещей изменились, но моя позиция в отношении моей работы скорее всего осталась прежней. Только реакция читателей стала гораздо заметней, чем раньше, поэтому я начал задумываться о воздействии на них этой работы.Вопрос: Что вы почувствовали, когда вашему сыну исполнилось четырнадцать – столько же, сколько Синдзи и его сверстникам?Садамото: Я подумал: «В моём доме так спокойно!» Кроме того, когда я посмотрел на своего четырнадцатилетнего сына, я осознал, насколько реально это было, что Синдзи не смог просто пилотировать робота с супер-оружием, чтобы защитить мир. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Интервью с Ёсиюки Садамото из сайта АNN АNN: Недавно вы закончили мангу «Евангелион». Каково это – закончить проект, в который вы вложили восемнадцать лет своей жизни?Садамото: Несмотря на то, что мне нравилось работать над мангой, она наконец-то закончена, и это действительно облегчение (смех). До пятого тома я усердно работал только над мангой. После пятого тома я работал также с разными аниме-проектами вроде «FLCL», «Дайбастер» и фильмами Хосоды, поэтому манга выпускалась реже. Однако при том, что выпуски стали реже, над мангой стало легче работать, потому что я отвлекался на другие проекты, и это снижало стресс.АNN: Что мотивировало вас закончить мангу «Евангелион»?Садамото: Моя жизненная установка такова: если ты за что-то взялся, ты должен это закончить. У меня не было чувства, что я работал над ней очень долго, потому что я мог закончить её так, как душа пожелает. Так что это не было похоже на обязаловку.АNN: Как работа над фильмами Хосоды отличается от работы над ребилдом «Евангелиона»?Садамото: Самое основное отличие – это предпочтения в дизайне. Например, когда я работаю над «Евангелионом», Хидеаки Анно просит меня внести пару изменений в концепт или поменять цвета. Анно ищет что-то необычное от нормы, в то время как Хосода нуждается больше в мейнстриме, например, на примере работ студии «Гибли». Анно черпает вдохновение из аниме его детства и может показать что-то более захватывающее, он добавляет в проекты свои детские увлечения. В этом основные различия между двумя режиссёрами.АNN: Ранее вы работали над «Королевским десантом» студии GAINAX. Каков был опыт?Садамото: Я начал работать над проектом сразу же после поступления в университет «Телеком». Я учился в «Телекоме» где-то полгода, но ничего не получилось. Тогда меня попросили работать в качестве продюсера над «Королевским десантом». Они инвестировали довольно мало денег, что удивляло и пугало одновременно. Это оказало большое давление на меня. Было тяжело работать каждый день, но в итоге благодаря дизайну и анимации получился отличный фильм. Возможно, это мой самый любимый фильм.АNN: Именно это вас вдохновило вернуться к созданию фильма «Аоки Уру» [прим. пер. — сиквел «Королевского десанта»]?Садамото: Сейчас мы не особо уверены, что это станет истинным «возрождением», но это будет новый проект, созданный по мотивам вселенной «Королевского десанта». У фильма будет научно-фантастический сюжет, основанный на предыдущих фильмах.АNN: Есть ли у вас какое-нибудь послание фанатам в Японии или за границей?Садамото: Я надеюсь, что фанаты с удовольствием прочитают конец манги «Евангелиона». Последний том будет опубликован в следующем году. Пожалуйста, ожидайте с нетерпением и мои следующие проекты. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- «Режиссёры «Годзиллы» говорят: «Мы подарим вам самый худший кошмар!» Декабрь 2012 года. После создания «Евангелиона 3.0: Ты (не) исправишь» я был разбит. Началась так называемая депрессия. Это стало возмездием за шесть лет, которые истощали мою душу.2013 год пришёл и ушёл. В этом году с грохотом возвращались негативные воспоминания, снова и снова. Пока я мог заявить о себе, для меня стало почти невозможно физически находиться рядом со студией, даже заходить в неё – всё из-за бремени следующего фильма «Евангелион 4».Начало 2014 года. Мне, наконец, удалось вернуться в студию. Затем я постепенно возвращался к работе, благодаря тому году самореабилитации.Сейчас уже 2015 год. Прошло двадцать лет с премьеры старой «Евы». Вы ждёте уже больше двух лет с тех пор, как в последний раз купили билеты, поэтому я работаю над завершением новой театральной версии «Евангелиона» (почему я это уже пиарю?). Тем, кто следит за моей работой, и всем фанатам аниме: только благодаря вашей постоянной поддержке у меня появляется мотивация двигаться вперёд к финалу. Благодарю вас от всей души.И в это же время я начинаю работу, собирая воедино визуальные эффекты фантастического фильма. Это всё началось в конце января 2013 года. Представитель из «Тохо» связался со мной напрямую со словами: «Мы хотели бы снять новый фильм о Годзилле». В то время я ещё не оправился после «Евы 3.0» и прямо на месте категорически отклонил предложение: «Это невозможно. Даже начать работу над следующей «Евой» невозможно». Оказывается, это была искренность и энтузиазм от моего союзника – режиссёра Синдзи Хигачи, и я решил поработать режиссёром в марте этого года. Я принял это решение, потому что это новый шанс, который выпадает раз в жизни. Это не «Ева». Это не моё собственное творение, это то, чего я никогда прежде не делал – вот почему я решил за него взяться.В заключение – я бесконечно благодарен тем, кто меня поддерживал: всем фанатам, которые покупали билеты на мои фильмы, и тем, кто дал мне желание продолжить мои работы. Спасибо. ° ° ° ° ° ° Дополнительно: Ещё одно интервью с Хидеаки Анно можно прочитать здесь (на русском). ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Интервью с Ёсиюки Садамото во время аниме-фестиваля «FicZone» (статья Manu G.) После всех этих лет работы над «Евангелионом» – что вы о нём думаете? — Как для человека, работающего в аниме-индустрии, «Евангелион» был для меня всего лишь очередным проектом, поэтому сейчас мне нужно заняться чем-то другим для развития в этой сфере. На данный момент я не очень хочу работать над этой франшизой, но она очень важна в Японии, у неё много фанатов, так что я отношусь к ней серьёзно. Похоже, что Хидеаки Анно тоже решил отдохнуть от «Евангелиона» и сосредоточился на фильмах, где играют живые актёры. — Дело в том, что я понятия не имею, что творится в голове Анно (смех). Со времён «Волчих детей» в 2012 мы больше не встречали ваших работ, даже в «Дитя монстра», а ведь раньше вы участвовали в каждом проекте Хосоды. В чём причина? — Просто я хотел посвятить себя рисованию и сосредоточиться исключительно на завершении манги «Евангелион». Каково было работать столько лет в студии GAINAX? — Работа в команде GAINAX позволяет свободу действий. К примеру, перед сотрудничеством с Хосодой я сначала спросил разрешения работать с ним у GAINAX, так как уже работал у них. И они дали добро, так что у меня не возникло никаких проблем. Кроме того, их политика помогает развиваться молодым художникам. Идея в том, что если кто-то талантлив, ты можешь помочь ему взять новый, более ответственный проект даже в качестве режиссёра. GAINAX в этом плане очень великодушны и авангардны, за это они мне и нравятся. Кроме того, вы, как художник персонажей, работаете над проектом «Аоки Уру». Как продвигается фильм? — Как я говорил раньше, такие вещи очень сильно зависят от денег. Тем не менее, я полностью посвящаю себя этому фильму, я его просто обожаю. Процесс продвигается медленно, так как недостаток финансов действительно сильно на это влияет. На данный момент мне больше нечего добавить, даже если исполнительный режиссёр покинет этот проект, я всё равно буду над ним работать. Значит, текущая дата релиза (2018) всё ещё может быть верной? — Знаете, предыдущая дата была в прошлом году… Я не знаю (смех). Говоря о финансовом положении аниме – вы в курсе краудфандинга [прим. пер. — сбор средств от общественности]? Как думаете, это реальный способ собрать достаточно средств? — Такой способ сейчас актуален для многих проектов. Но в основном для короткометражек длиной 10-15 минут. Вы можете к нему прибегнуть, но для крупных проектов, как «Евангелион», необходимо гораздо больше средств, чем можно собрать на краудфандинге. Данный вариант ещё долго будет в ходу, но он непригоден для крупных проектов. Тогда каково будущее финансирование аниме-индустрии? — Прямо сейчас основную долю денежных средств вкладывают видео- и аудиокомпании. Хотя я считаю, что будущее за такими платформами, как Amazon и Netfilx. Они предоставляют хорошую возможность для развития аниме-индустрии, и я думаю, что они изменят своё к ней отношение. Производство собственной продукции для своей платформы – вот что в корне изменит финансирование аниме-индустрии. Каковы ваши текущие проекты? — На данный момент я работаю на рынке игр для смартфонов, а также как художник по костюмам в игровом кино. Также я участвую в небольшом аниме-проекте. Собственно, вот и всё, на что сейчас уходит моё рабочее время. Увидим ли мы вас снова в работе с какой-нибудь длинной мангой вроде «Евангелиона»? — Сейчас мне пятьдесят четыре. Если меня снова затянет в какой-нибудь проект лет на двадцать, то мне будет уже семьдесят четыре… Думаю, что это будет сложновато (смех).
10636749	Nihil Admirari	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Angela \"Mercy\" Ziegler, Genji Shimada, others - Character", "Fandom": "Overwatch (Video Game)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by AnemicLove", "chapters": "4/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-15T00:00:00", "words": "23,258", "Additional Tags": "Not sure how long, Multichapter, Fluff, Angst, pretty much a bit of everything, Gency, Genji x Mercy - Freeform, mercy x genji - Freeform, Genji/Mercy - Freeform, mercy/genji - Freeform, Emergenji, Emergency - Freeform", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Genji Shimada/Angela \"Mercy\" Ziegler, Gency - Relationship, Emergenji - Relationship", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The sun had come out after a long rain the day Angela received the letter.For the past three weeks, she had been stationed at an outpost on the border of Iraq, tending to victims of a recent explosion. She was curious, at first, as she there was no one she knew who would have tried to contact her. The location was remote, and she had left no indication she was not in her native Switzerland.Her name was scrawled across the front of if it in shaky handwriting. The letters were familiar, but slightly unclear. Only a handful of her contacts still communicated in such an archaic fashion. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of who she thought it might be. Of who she hoped it would be.Angela’s suspicions were confirmed when she broke the seal off the back. It fluttered down languidly to the ground beneath her feet, like a leaf dancing in a weak autumn wind. Kneeling, she plucked it off the ground and held it upward, the strip of light from the opening in the medical tent setting every detail ablaze. The top of it was a dark brown, but gradually faded to a light gray. Tear drop shaped is what she would have called it, and it had a faint stripe pattern along the plush edges. She turned her body away from the others in the tent and allowed herself to smile.A sparrow feather. Angela clutched it in her hands as she unfolded the letter. Once she had taken a few deep breaths to calm her heart, she read the letter one word at a time: Dr. Ziegler, I write this in hope that it finds you. The recall message that was sent to the former Overwatch agents also found me. In truth, the first thing I thought to do was reach out to you. It has been long, far too long, since you and I last spoke to one another face to face. If it is possible, I would like to meet you. I do not know if you have considered what has been asked of us, but perhaps we could decide what actions to take together? Should we reunite with the former agents of Overwatch? I have already traveled from Los Angeles, California in the Unites States of America to Nepal with my master. I plan to travel to Lucerne, where you once told me your home was. I will wait outside of your home as night falls on the last day of the month. If you are no present, I will wait four days in the city for you. When the four days pass and I have still not seen you, I will take that as an answer to my question. I confess that I hope to see you. Genji Underneath his signature was a line written in his native Japanese. While Angela could decipher pieces if spoken, she was utterly lost when it came to reading kanji. The sentence caused her to frown in frustration. Genji was more than aware of her difficulty, yet he still chose to write in it? Perhaps it had been a secret code in case the letter fell into the wrong hands? Or was it a message that intended to entice her into meeting with him in Switzerland?“Dr. Ziegler?”The voice of a nurse brought Angela out of her reverie.“Y-Yes, is something the matter?”The nurse purse her mouth, her eyes gravitating to the paper in Angela’s hand for the briefest of moments. “We’re done for the day, ma’am.”“Ah, yes. Thank you. I’ll be right out.”Spinning on her heel, the nurse exited the tent in quick strides, either unsatisfied or chagrined.Angela sighed and tucked the letter inside of her white coat. The more important question was that of Overwatch. Three weeks had passed since the message sent by Winston. She had arrived at the outpost in Iraq only three days before the recall. It had woken her up in the middle of the night, and she had spent what felt like hours trying to tell herself to go back to bed—she was dreaming though she wasn’t asleep, she was drunk though she hadn’t sipped anything—instead of listening to the faint beeping from her old communicator. Temptation whittled her down, and seeing Winston’s face pulled all the sweet memories of the past that she had buried deep within her to the forefront.Yet she hesitated. Was the restoration of Overwatch the right choice? The voice of her conscience reminded her of her life’s important maxim: save lives. Don’t let anyone go through what she had. To be part of something bigger again, to be reunited with those she had long considered her family—it all felt like a wish come true. But Overwatch did not always save lives. Many nights Angela went to bed after a mission disgruntled. But none compared to the betrayal she felt when the demons of Blackwatch were exposed. If there was even the slightest chance that Overwatch could vaguely return, the same was also true for its darker offshoot. Not to mention it is illegal now… Angela placed her hand over her heart, where Genji’s letter had been hidden. Knowing that she wasn’t the only one who had misgivings was comforting. And years had passed since she had seen his face, heard the comforting timbre of his voice. There were so many memoires they had shared; so many things she had replayed like a broken record in her mind when she felt wistful. Would the sight of him help bring joy back to her past? Would the sight of him put these disquieted feelings Angela had kept secret to rest?She brought the sparrow feather still in her hands to her nose. A faint wisp of incense lingered on the down. It tickled her cheeks, and a grin blossomed on her face. His scent on it was what she wanted, and because it wasn’t there, she felt her entire body ache from the desire to catch a whiff of it.Angela pulled her communicator to radio the nearest military base. She tapped the shining blue screen and waited for an answer.“Radio Control Tower. What is your emergency?” “This is Dr. Angela Ziegler from forward camp 2-B. Can you tell me the fastest way to get to Turkey?”~~~After two long flights and endless bus rides, Angela finally made it to the Zurich Airport. From there, it was another tram ride and a taxi before she could reach her apartment building. Getting the luxury loft had taken time and a lot of saved money, but a home of her own was something Angela had felt like she needed to move on from her status as an orphan. It was freeing and cleansing. She hurriedly unlocked the front door, threw her bags in her bedroom and took a long, hot shower. Nervousness had caused her to tremble, but she let the steam of the bath relax her. It had been so long since she and Genji had been in the same room; so much between them had been left unsaid. She wanted this to be the moment where they could reconnect. The moment where they could finally bring everything they had ever felt to the surface, exposed and raw, and find a way through the dark.Only time could tell if it would end up the way she wanted it too.Early afternoon had become late afternoon faster than she had wished, and she knew that the time of Genji’s arrival was drawing near. Angela ran into her bedroom and changed into some older clothes in preparation for the cooking and cleaning she would do. A quick survey of the loft revealed to her the dust that had caked onto most of the wood furniture that had been left exposed. How can there be so much dust in one place? Angela did a quick sweep of both bathrooms and bedrooms to make sure nothing had broken while she had been in Iraq. Luckily enough, the dust was the biggest problem. She meticulously scrubbed and wiped until every speck of the insulting dust had vanished. At nightfall, when the waxing moon shone in the sky above the city, Angela changed from her old cleaning clothes into a pair of black leggings and fluffy white sweater. The last thing she did was set out some Swiss chocolates she had bought at the airport and set a large copper pot on her stove top to boil. That is…everything? Satisfied, Angela allowed herself to take a moment to breathe. Her apartment smelled fresh, she felt rejuvenated, but the shaking she had thought she mitigated had returned now that she knew the moment she had dreamed of was so close. Angela knew that she had not changed much. She was older, true, but the Angela Zeigler that had been a beacon in Overwatch, who had longed to do good, was still very much intact. From the letter that Genji sent her, Angela felt something—the true essence that was Genji Shimada—might not be what she remembered.Angela bounded the stairs to the loft that served as her living room. It was cool because of the windows at the French doors that led to the balcony. She was ready to grab a book and wait for the doorbell to ring, but she was frozen in place from what she saw as soon as she reached the top of the stairs.Through the clear glass, she saw a familiar man dressed in metal. He was seated on the ledge between the sky and the balcony floor. His legs were folded, and he seemed to be meditating. There was no doubt in her mind that it was Genji Shimada.Angela suddenly saw the gap between them closing; she had not even realized that she had started to move towards him. For a moment, her hand hovered over the doorknob. She would probably surprise him, but what would she say? Saying hello seemed so hollow, but everything she wanted to say was too soon for the beginning. Should she say that she missed him? It seemed like the appropriate middle ground.“Angela.”She looked up. Through the other side of the door, Genji was standing before her. His mask covered his face, so only the glowing light that covered his eyes was visible. At first glance, he had not physically changed, but Angela felt foolish once the thought crossed her mind. Genji would likely stay at his pique for longer than most. But in his hands, were a bunch of red flowers she could not recognize. He clutched the bouquet by the stems and cradled the flowers with the other. But the fact that he was here before her, that she could feel the warmth of his body radiating despite what was between them, made her half to bite down on her tongue to keep herself from crying. There was a tranquility there that she had never sensed before.Genji cleared his throat and said, “May I come in?”“Oh, yes! Yes, I’m sorry Genji,” Angela muttered, her face growing red. She threw the door open quickly and stepped out of his way. She gestured with her arm for him to enter. He bowed slowly, then took a couple steps inside.“I was just-just so surprised to see you!”Genji chuckled, then said, “I believe you. Through the door, I heard you run to greet me.”Angela bit down on her lip this time. It had been only minutes, and she was already wishing she could rewind time and do the whole moment over again.“Well, I certainly expected you at the door, not at my balcony.”Genji walked up to Angela and held the flowers out to her. He said, “If I frightened you, perhaps these can serve as an apology? Hopefully you like the smell of camellias.”Angela felt her mouth twitch from bashfulness. Genji had always been a bit flirtatious. She struggled to admit that she was glad that part of him had stayed the same.As she took the flowers from his hands, she said, “Lucky for you, I am easily won over with flowers. But can I interest you in chocolate and green tea? I remember you don’t like black tea.”“Chocolates and tea? It seems my gift is inadequate in comparison. You have outdone me yet again, doctor.”“Oh, no. You being here means more to me than—“Angela stopped herself when she realized she was about to cross the line she had made. She played with the petals of one of the flowers, then smiled up at him. She closed her eyes to avoid watching him.“Let me put these in water, then we can have tea and chat. I’m sure we have a lot to catch up on.”Striding swiftly, Angela cleared the distance from the couch and the stairs. She went into the kitchen and poured them both a cup of green tea. Before bring up the cups, she threw out a bunch of fake roses in a vase and replaced them with the camellias along with water and a pinch of sugar. When she made it back up to the loft, Genji was seated on the brown leather chair across from the sofa. There was a photo frame in his hands, and he sat with one leg laying perpendicular to the other.“Which photo did you grab?"Genji looked up and watched Angela set the tray on the low coffee table. He turned it around for her to look.“Ah,” she said, “that was when I gave a lecture in Tehran about how nanobiology helps cancer patients. The professors there were very kind, intelligent people.“It seems you have been quite busy,” Genji said, his tone was pleasant, but even Angela could tell he was probing for information.“I suppose. Though I’ve spent most of my time helping war victims in a military outpost in Iraq. So being home feels even more like a luxury.”“I must agree. I, too, have lived in a rural location for so long. The city is energizing. I feel as though I am seeing it in a new light.”Angela looked down at her teacup and focused on her subtle reflection in the swirling green tea. She only brought her face up when she heard Genji removing the plate that covered his face, as well as the helmet that hid his hair. Angela found herself transfixed on his face, which had become sharper and more mature with age, but his hair—which was a wild black mess—was the same as it was in his youth. The scar that had cut vertically down his left side had faded; the healing would have imperceptive to anyone who had not studied his face as scrupulously has she had.Genji brought his own teacup to his lips and took a sip. He offered her a serene smile and said “thank you” in his native Japanese.Angela’s whole body tensed up. He was still so, so handsome.“I might visit you to ask for more tea, doctor,” Genji said, followed by a low chuckle.Angela shrugged and said, “Well, I suppose you could convince me.”Genji’s smile widened, and Angela found herself smiling back at him. They stared at each other’s faces in silence for a spell, but Genji broke it when he said, “It has been…so very long since I have seen your face, doctor.”“I-I was thinking the exact same thing, Genji. I regret not getting in contact with you sooner. But with what happened with Overwatch…I wasn’t sure if it was the safest thing.”Genji adjusted in his seat to sit with folded legs. “You made the right choice, doctor. As I was never in one place for long, you might have troubled yourself needlessly.”“So you moved often?”“It was…more like wandering. I was…searching, of course.”“Oh, yes. Yes, of course.”Angela and Genji both sipped on their tea at the same time. Angela reached in the middle and grabbed a piece of chocolate; the middle was filled with smooth chocolate cream, and the decadence as she ate it gave her goosebumps. She licked her fingers just to make sure she had not wasted a bite. Genji’s low chuckled bubbled up to ears, and she couldn’t help but wink at him.“There is nothing like good Swiss chocolate. It’s even sweeter having been in the middle east for so long.”“I confess, there’s nothing quite like watching you eat them.”Her hands tightened around her teacup. She wasn’t sure if Genji had intentionally tried to cause such an aggressive sexual tension between them, but it was happening regardless. It was all she could do to keep a straight face.“Ange—doctor. I…wanted to tell you something.”Ice swam in her veins. She nodded as she waited for Genji to speak.His dark eyes were drawn to his feet, but then back up to her. “I wanted to formally thank you. For what happened when I first came to Overwatch. It was you who saved my life. Had it not been for your intervention, I would not be the man standing here before you today. I can never repay you for what you have sacrificed on this life of mine. I can only swear an undying loyalty to you, and a promise that, from this point onward, you will never have to look far to find me.”Genji’s words left Angela stunned; she couldn’t find the words she wanted him to hear. The tears that had threatened her before stung her eyes as they tried to escape, but Angela forced herself to show Genji a smile as he spoke.“Genji, you do not have to thank me. I would make the same decision all over again. You were a man who deserved a second chance at life; I could tell that by just looking at you.”“Even though you did not know me, you could tell that I was a man worth saving?”“Absolutely,” she replied, hoping her staunchness could be echoed in her words. “Then I owe you more than I had thought before. Not only did you save me, but you alone believed in me. You are truly a woman above all others.”“I think the praise you are heaping on me is a bit unnecessary, Genji,” Angela said, then laughed. “Not at all, doctor. I still remember the day that I heard your voice for the first time. I was wondering in infinite darkness, and it was you who called out to me. It was you who helped me find my way back to the light.”Angela’s eyed widened. “You…remember when you were in the coma?" Immediately after Genji nodded, Angela leaned forward and studied him with wary eyes. “Can…can you tell me what you remember? I believe that you do, but…it just seems so…impossible?”Genji smirked wryly. “Well, doctor, I would be happy to remember my first moments together with you.”Angela gulped down the last of her cup of tea as she waited for Genji to begin his story. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Darkness had crept up in the form of black veins swallowing his vision. And that was his world for a long time. He walked the line between life and death; the fact that he could think let him know that he was still clinging to life. Barely. The only way Genji could see color, hear or feel alive was through his memories. But the memories that he had been forced to relive were akin to ruthless chasms of nightmares. He felt the pain and emptiness of death. He saw the murder in his brother’s eyes; the fierceness of a dragon staring him down. Unsympathetic, unequivocal, unwavering. It was the fire in Hanzo’s eyes that allowed Genji to resign. In the last moments that he drew breath, he felt like this was the chance he had to feel truly alive (as caustic as it sounded). And so, he did not run from the darkness. He embraced it with open arms.But there was something there. Something that threatened to pluck him from the mire of death that he had been steeped in. He could not feel, could not speak. Yet his ears could pick up a sound. One he could not place. Sweet and smooth; it relaxed him. In a vain effort, he tried to move, to reach out to the voice, but to no avail. The harder he resisted, the more his own body seemed to fight back. Only the soul left inside had the strength to rebel from the oblivion that threatened to consume him.Genji’s whole being honed in on the sound; the more he listened, the easier it was for him to discern it. It was light, like the call of a bird. He felt a strange kinship with it because of that metaphor, as he himself was the Sparrow to his family. Former family. The sound pleased him, and before long, he had the epiphany that it wasn’t wholly intelligible. There were words there. Words he could recognize.“Can…speak?” Speak. Speak. It was English. Not his mother tongue. He wanted to tell them he could. Though he could not move his lips, could not feel his throat, he tried to answer it. What was it, the English word he was looking for? Yes. Yes. Though his senses had been jammed, Genji realized it must have worked; there were additional sounds, much unlike the sweet trill he had listened to for what felt like years. These were the noises he did not like. A painful cacophony. He wanted to cry out, to run away from the discord that antagonized him. It burned; it was angry. And then he found himself falling back into the black void, the place devoid of joy or sorrow. The realm of nihility. But he went back with newfound determination. That discord was the first time he realized that there were things that he could still feel. Even if it was just pain, it was a start. He waited with bated breath for another sign.Just when he felt like the agony of the darkness would never leave him, he found himself heading towards the light. The sound had returned, and this time, he could hear the words so clearly that it frightened him.“Love is anterior to life…posterior to death…initial of creation, and…the exponent of breath.”The voice’s words were so foreign that he found it difficult to comprehend. While he considered himself to be bilingual, he wasn’t adept at the language. Just with his ears, however, he knew it was far too ornate to be commonly spoken. This English was archaic and new. Yet he found himself enamored with the phrase. He attached to it, repeated in his head continually. An exponent of breath. What did it mean? That love was a footnote of conversation? That love exists beyond the realm of comprehension, beyond time and beyond life? It was beautiful, it was mysterious, and it was his.For time immeasurable, he would wait to hear the cryptic code from the angelic voice. When he could not hear it, he pined for it. Whispers of wild nights, running rivers and perfect dreams filled him to the brim with ecstasy. It was an addiction; sweet release. Had he the ability, the irony would have made him laugh. Vices had led to his destruction, yet here he was, finding another. Nonetheless, the abyss he was tumbling through had sowed the seeds of apathy and anger within. He cared not for the people who he once called family, for the forces that had somehow kept him breathing and for himself.The words spoken to him, the entity of unknown origin, had reignited the spark that his temporary death had caused. Genji made a promise to himself: he would live for two reasons. The first: to be the ruin of the Shimada just as they were his. The second: to find this voice, this heavenly body, and devote himself to it. They would be his baptism into his new life. Thus, Genji decided to find a way out of the spiraling vacuum that had trapped him.Genji broke free on a summer morning.The voice was there, allowing him to listen to its soft chanting, when the words became real to him.“If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain. If I can ease one life the aching,or cool one pain, or help one fainting sparrow unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain.”Sparrow. It could be no one else but him. In that one moment, Genji felt a tight but welcoming swelling in his chest. He could feel himself breathing again. He could feel himself hoping again. The voice was not a dream he had made up to give himself false comfort. It knew, it felt his wretchedness, his shame, his ire. This ethereal sound was there to save him from the brink of death, to rekindle his verve for life and to resurrect his will. The whole of his being began to vibrate with the sheer force of his resolve. Every cell Genji had began to burst, and it was then that he saw true light.Genji opened his eyes.The brightness burned, but he forced himself to keep them open. The devouring darkness him had dispersed. His metamorphosis was complete. Focusing his vision took longer than anticipated, but as he relearned how to open and close his mouth, which was dry, eventually he was able to take in his surroundings. Above him was a white vaulted ceiling. Beneath his left side, he could feel cool cloth and a plush mattress. He could not feel below his thighs, and while he knew he could breath, the right side of his chest seemed not to move as he took in air. Yet, like he thought, he could hear just fine. He heard the rushed beeping of a heart monitor, shoes tapping the floor as they rushed about, the droning of a television as it reported recent news.And the first voice he heard was the one that had been with him for so long.Though he could not see or tell where it was coming from, he heard it ask, “Speak English?” in broken Japanese.Genji responded, “Yes”. It took him a minute to realize the croaky reply was his own.Afterward, he heard more footsteps approaching, and the face of a woman came into view. To say she was beautiful would be an understatement. She had white blond hair tied up fashionably. Eyes that could have been plucked from the sky itself. Her smile was crooked, but charming. On her face was light makeup, and she smelled of blackberries. He became aware of the oxygen tubes connected to his nose from her sweet scent. She was the person whose voice had held his hand through his nightmare. Genji had so much he wished to tell her—so much thanks to express—but the longer he stayed awake, the more the pain became overwhelming. Fighting the urge to fall back into the darkness was taking everything he had.The woman before him asked, “Genji Shimada is your name, isn’t it?” Curtly, Genji answered “Yes…”Her brow furrowed. He did not like seeing her face not smiling. “Are you in pain, Genji?”“No,” he replied.“If you need morphine, Genji—““No,” he said intensely.From her unchanging expression, Genji could tell he had not convinced her. Mustering up his courage, Genji prepared to speak in full sentences.“Where…am…I?”“Switzerland.”If laughing wouldn’t have caused him to faint, he would have.“Who…are y-you?”“My name is Dr. Zeigler. My…associates…rescued you from the Shimada.”Genji closed his eyes, but the blackness he saw made him uneasy. He opened them again and turned his head slightly. Dr. Zeigler placed a hand on his forehead and stopped his movement. Her cool palm was like a balm for a burn; she had a pacific touch.“Don’t move too much, Genji. You’re nowhere near full recovery yet.”Once Dr. Zeigler pulled her hand away, Genji tried to move his head again but found that his neck wouldn’t co-operate. His heart monitor’s beeping sped up, though Genji was too panicked to feel his own heartbeat. The doctor looked back and forth between them, and she placed her hand back on his forehead to calm him. It seemed to work, and then she spoke again.“Genji, please try to remain calm. I don’t want to sedate you again, but—““Do. Not,” Genji said, a desperate fire in his tone.Dr. Zeigler frowned. She nodded once, and then disappeared from his vision. When she came back, she helped him drink some water. The liquid helped his parched mouth, and he found it much easier to talk.“I thought…I had died,” Genji said, keeping his eyes on the cup of water in her hands.“You’re not wholly wrong.”Genji took as deep a breath as his lungs would allow.“Doctor, how…am I alive?”The doctor sighed and set the cup of water down somewhere. She turned back to Genji and flashed a wide smile; it barred all her white teeth. “Well, you can thank myself and Overwatch for that.”He recognized the name Overwatch. He knew that they had helped the United Nations stop the Omnic Crisis, that they were a team of special agents that worked for peace, and that they heavily opposed the Shimada. Genji felt himself smile; he couldn’t remember the last time he felt he could.“I see…Overwatch.”“Yes…we know that the Shimada and Overwatch don’t see eye to eye, but—““Do not…mistake me, doctor. I…have left the Shimada…”“Ah, I see,” she said flatly. Genji was almost afraid of the lack of emotion in her voice.“It seems…you are…displeased?”Genji saw the doctor try and hide an amused smirk by wiping her lips with her thumb. “Well, I…”Her discomfort was obvious, so Genji did not press her. He changed the subject by asking “What…is wrong with me, Doctor?”Dr. Zeigler’s displeasure seemingly increased as he made the inquiry. She pinched the bridge of her nose and did not respond to him straightaway. Her face glided out of his vision, and he heard a chair scraping against the floor. As the paleness of her face reappeared, her eyes were closed. And when she reopened them, she began to speak.“You must try to remain calm when I tell you this, Genji. Normally, I would wait until you’ve been conscious for a few days to respond, but your recovery has gone so well, I don’t see any reason to keep it from you anymore. I will warn you, however, if your heart begins to fail, I’ll have to sedate you again. You understand, don’t you?”Genji tried to nod, but he replied “Yes, doctor,” when he remembered he could not.The doctor placed a hand on his left one. She squeezed it loosely, before she started explaining.“Genji, technically you should be dead. Most your body is…unsalvageable.”Genji felt his breathing become rapid, but he reined himself in. He would be damned if he let himself get sedated.She tightened her grip on his hand as she continued: “We’ve…already had to amputate both your legs at the knee. Your entire right side, including your right arm, is gone. The same is true with your spine and neck. You’re being kept alive via machine currently. You’ve already had some renovation on your throat so we could speak with you. Had it not been for the fact that your brain, head and heart were mostly untouched, even I could not have saved you.”As Dr. Zeigler listed the parts of his body, he told his brain to search for them. Genji found he could not feel much, though he had sensations below his waist and on his left side. But turning his head was almost impossible, and he felt only emptiness halfway down his thighs. The realization that he was merely a hunk of flesh hit him hard; the heart monitor cried out in rapid bursts, and his eyes clouded from the tears he could not cry. The woe and fury that swirled in his veins flowed freely through him, and his vision blurred and shook until the darkness took him away again.But Genji did not remember his sleep this time. He opened his eyes late one evening, which the sound of owls could be heard outside his window. Gentle snoring was mixed in with it, and he wished on the stars he could not see that it was Dr. Zeigler’s. Noticeably, Genji’s vitality had increased from the last time he had woken, and he felt much less pain when he spoke.“Are you there, doctor?”He heard stirring despite how quiet it was, but no one appeared over him. He repeated his statement, and it was then that he heard a woman’s yawn. Certainly, it was her.Footsteps, then her face. She peered down at him with a fraught expression.“Forgive me, Genji, I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have told you so much so soon. You panicked, and I—““Thank you, Dr. Zeigler,” Genji managed to say with a smile. “Thank you for saving me.”A smile adorned her face, and in that moment Genji knew that he had made the right decision. Once the Shimada were obliterated, he would protect that smile for the rest of his days.~~~In the months that followed, Genji’s life was never a dull moment. He spent much time talking with Dr. Zeigler, who caught him up to speed. Genji had been in a coma for slightly more than a year, though the coma became medically indunced seven months prior when he awoke too soon. He had been brought to Overwatch HQ, and resided in a private room at their official hospital. The doctor had intervened when he had been rescued to attempt to save his life, and he approved of her plan to rebuild the parts of his body that were missing via cybernetics. She impressed upon him the weightiness of the decision, but Genji did not care. Anything to help him with his new objectives would be considered a boon and a blessing. He also spent time learning about who the doctor was. Her name was Angela Ziegler, a native to Switzerland, and she had been devoted to the field of medicine since a young age. Though Angela had encouraged him to call her by her name, Genji declined. The nuances of his culture as well as his great respect for the woman that had saved his life demanded that he call her by the title she had earned. Angela did not argue with him.During this time, Genji was also introduced to many important people in Overwatch’s ranks. First was Torbjorn Lindholm, a short and stout man who would be overseeing his physical reconstruction with Dr. Zeigler. He was also introduced to the recently appointed Strike Commander Jack Morrison as well as high ranking military officer Gabriel Reyes. Their mission had been to question Genji Shimada, to probe him for information about the syndicate as well as to access his loyalty to them. It was plain to him that they were distrustful, and rightfully so. But Genji addressed them candidly; he told them that his goal was to take down the Shimada clan, and that if helping Overwatch furthered his goal, he would be willing to do so.Subsequent to his declaration, Commader Morrison, Reyes and Engineer Lindholm proposed reworking Genji’s reconstruction; they would focus on weaponization instead of practicality. His limbs would be made into tools of destruction in exchange for allying with Overwatch. Their projected time frame was half a year of renovations followed by another four months of physical therapy. Genji welcomed the idea (and planned to speed it along as best he could) but Angela Zeigler was adamantly against it.She approached Genji about it when they had been able to sit him upright in his hospital bed, but motion was still out of his reach. The doctor was palpably upset when she confronted him; the vitriol she felt towards the deal he had made with Overwatch wasn’t for him, but for the executives who proposed it in the first place. “Genji, I really think you should reconsider. Truly.” she said to him.“Why, Dr. Zeigler?”“You could live a normal life. Away from the Shimada, away from all this violence that we cannot escape from. Doesn’t a fresh start have some appeal?”Genji sympathized with her plea, and under different circumstances, he might have agreed to it. But it was too late. “I thank you for your concern. You are a kind soul, doctor. But this decision was made long before your intermediation. The Shimada should pay for their crimes, and I am the one who will see to it. It is now my duty.”“But it doesn’t have to be,” she said.“My fate and the fate of the Shimada are bound together. That is reality.”“You aren’t tied to anything anymore, Genji. You’re free. And you can use this freedom as a chance to find peace for yourself. There can be nothing more satisfying than that, yes?”Genji did his best to nod and said, “To some, yes. But there is a storm inside me that continues to rage. This life I was given has a purpose, and I will see it carried out.” But there is one that you will never know. A secret I will keep until my true death: that this heart beats to seek vengeance…and to be your shield. There was a pregnant pause. Then Angela asked, ‘This is what you want? This decision is one that you made, not Commander Morrison or Reyes or anyone else?”“This decision was mine and mine alone.”Pursing her lips from indignation, Angela conceded. “Then there is nothing I can say. My goal was always to help you live the life you wanted to live, Genji. If this is what you chose, then I accept it. Even if I don’t agree with it. But if I find out that anyone has manipulated you, that you aren’t being allowed to live the life you want, then nothing will stop me from interfering. That is my duty as your doctor.”Genji smiled. Angela Zeigler’s genuineness, her love for protecting others, was so admirable that Genji knew without a shadow of a doubt that she had been the one who had coaxed him back into life; the only sound in the middle of the torturous silence.“There is no better doctor than you, Dr. Zeigler. I am blessed to be your patient.”Angela snickered and said, “Some may not agree with you, Genji. I can be quite the nag, I’ve heard. Some people find me unpleasant.”Genji’s mouth twitched; his best attempt at smirk. “I supposed they are allowed to have their incorrect opinion.”Angela grabbed Genji’s hand and, in her softest voice, said, “I look forward to working with you, Genji Shimada. Welcome to Overwatch.”“Doctor,” Genji said, and he somehow managed to make his fingertips curve in; a sign that he would hold her hand if he could, “the pleasure is all mine.”~~~Angela shook her head from astonishment. “I cannot believe it. You heard me reading to you that whole time? Why didn’t you say anything, Genji?!”Genji put his hands out and shrugged. “Speaking truthfully, doctor, I felt I had not earned it. My self-hatred was poisoning me. I was so fixated on ending the Shimada clan that I felt there was no room for anything else in my heart at that moment. Altruism would have been lost on me if you had not been so kind.”Pouring herself another glass of tea, Angela said, “Had I known, I might have picked another poet than Emily Dickinson. I’m certain that got boring to you.”“Not at all. I had never heard her poetry until that moment. It is quite beautiful. I’ve come to enjoy it as much as you have. Though my favorite will always be the one that woke me.”Angela put her hand over her mouth and bobbed her head without meeting Genji’s eyes. A moment passed, then Genji said, “But I know your secret, Dr Zeigler.”She curled her lips in to hide her grin; Genji wore his proudly. “You changed the bird in the poem, did you not?”“How long have you known?” Angela asked this after both hands were cradling her teacup.“To your surprise, I am sure, not very long. I had found a book of her poetry by chance in America. I searched for it. But what I found confused me. The line read “robin”, not “sparrow”.”“It does,” said Angela sagely.“So my question is this: how did you know?”Moving to sit on her knees, Angela said, “When you were found by Jack, he said it wasn’t the state you were in that puzzled him. There was a single sparrow feather laid across your back. It was untouched by the blood, so he assumed someone had laid it there. He was probably right, but I thought maybe it was you that had kept it. So I decided that was your code name in the hospital. Whenever anyone came to me with information, we called you “Sparrow” instead of “John Doe”. And when I saw that poem, it resonated with me. It was how I felt about wanting to save you. I didn’t think you could hear, so I changed “robin” to “sparrow”.”“And so turns the tide of fate,” Genji replied. His eyes were wild with emotion; Angela almost confessed to him there, but her will managed to hold her back. It was still too soon; the night was still too young.Genji asked, “I can assume that one is your favorite now?”“Oh, absolutely. I still love her poetry as a whole, though. Short, but tender.”Genji finished the last of his tea, then said, “And through you, I feel the same.”“Well, I suppose there are many things we learned to enjoy through each other, isn’t there?”“While this is true as far as I am concerned, I am not aware that I had that same effect on you,” Genji said curiously.Angela swallowed the lump in her throat. The first hurdle she would jump to reach her confession was now before her. Genji was here, after all these years, and she would be the biggest fool to pass up the opportunity before her. Angela absently traced circles into the leather of her sofa with a finger and murmured, “Well, there’s one thing, I think…”“Oh?”Genji and Angela’s eyes locked. She said shyly: “Dancing.”The reaction that Genji had came in short-lived bursts: from the way his face stretched, Angela could tell that the muscles above his eyes would be moving if not for the metal casing on his forehead. That changed to a complex expression that took time to decipher, a kind of incredulous joy; his eyes moved back and forth as he retrieved the memory. Then his eyes went back on her, smoldering with passion and eagerness.“That,” Genji said so slowly that it was physically tantalizing, “is something I am very, very glad to hear, doctor.”She had to look away; his words had obtained the power to caress, and too much exposer would make her succumb. Instead, they relived the memory like ghosts haunting the past. The moment where their hearts finally began to seek each other. Their first dance. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Dawn had come and gone the morning Genji first heard about the mission.It had been two years since Genji had officially been inducted into Overwatch, and slightly longer since he had been able to function with his cybernetic upgrades. Though outwardly standoffish, Genji had found to appreciate his new comrades in the organization, particularly the companionship of Angela Zeigler. She had taken the lead in Genji’s physical therapy, and it had taken no time at all before he was ready to prep for combat. What the rest of the Overwatch executives believed would have taken ten months only took six.Yet, there was a hunger in him that he still could not satiate. It was a lust for retribution, and a longing to be useful. Genji sought refuge and peace where he could, so he had decided to try and practice his meditation in order to soothe the flames that singed his soul. Since he lived in the Overwatch barracks at HQ, seclusion was a commodity. So Genji had snuck around the cubicles of Overwatch’s human resource department and found a supply closet with a small, broken desk just big enough for him to sit on. Only five minutes had passed before the door was swung open, and Genji found himself sharing a glare with Commander Gabriel Reyes.The stern-faced Reyes said, “What are you doing in here, Shimada?”Genji sighed and said, “Please, Commander, it is courteous to knock first.”The Blackwatch Commander’s brows narrowed; Genji did not think Reyes could look any grumpier, but he had found a way.Reyes eyes darted around the small room, then he said, “You’re in utility closet, Shimada.”“You are correct, sir. And how did you know I was in here?”“Did you not see Kern? Apparently, you can slip by assassins, but not administrative assistants.”Genji scowled under his visor. Curse you, Kern. Whoever you are. Squaring his shoulders, Genji removed the visor from his face to stare directly at Reyes. He asked after a sigh, “And how may I help you, Reyes?”Reyes didn’t bother checking behind him; he took a step inside the closet and shut the door, the light above them just bright enough for the two men to see each other’s faces. From the discretion Reyes was taking, Genji decided to sit on his knees to gain a bit of height. Having another man stare down at him made his whole body itch despite the fact the majority of his skin was now something between metal and plastic.“We’ve tripped over some intel on Talon activity via our personal moles. Sounds like they’re planning on causing a stir during the UN’s Overwatch Gala in the USA.”Genji nodded and said, “I see. Has Strike Commander Morrison been informed?”Gabriel Reyes’ face puckered. It reminded Genji of the time he accidently drank sour milk as a child. “Yes,” he replied.“And our orders are?”“The UN bigwigs don’t want to cancel. Thinks it’ll be a sign of weakness. And since we take orders from them, we’ve got to handle it ourselves. Problem is, they don’t want too many armed forces at the party. They don’t wanna cause a commotion. The rest of us high ranking officials have to be in attendance, but since Blackwatch agents aren’t obligated, I figured I’d put my best men on the job.”Genji crossed his arms, but not from frustration. From anticipation. “This includes me, I assume.”Reyes cleared his throat and said, “Yes. I’m putting you and one other agent in charge of infiltrating the hotel that’s hosting the Gala while it’s going on. The rest of us are going to be there to back you up at the actual event, but I’m hoping you two can handle it yourselves. Sound like something you can do.”Genji had to suppress a wicked grin. Meditation was a good method of seeking tranquility, but nothing felt so grand as the feeling of a sword slicing through the raw flesh of a terrorist.“I understand. Though it seems a bit unusual to put only two men on this mission, Commander. It is out of character for you to agree so readily.”A shrug was all that Reyes offered him. Genji’s jaw clenched in thought, but it relaxed instantly as soon as the realization hit him.“Commander, you are arming the Overwatch representatives attending the Gala, correct?”Through some kind of miracle, Genji Shimada managed to get Gabriel Reyes to grin. “You’re sharp, Shimada. Morrison, myself and the other attendees will be concealed carriers. It’d be stupid to send two people when we’re so unsure of what Talon’s going to throw at us. So you guys will have plenty of backup.”“Well done, Reyes. Our strike team?”“For the concealed carriers, that’ll be me, Morrison, Captain Amari, Lieutenant Wilhelm and Dr. Zeigler.”Once her name was out of Reyes’ mouth, Genji’s whole body went stiff. Someone who didn’t know him might have mistaken him for a statue.“I—Yes. That is good. Yes.”Not wanting to explain, Genji avoided Reyes’ face when he raised a quizzical eyebrow. After a stunted silence, he seemed to give up. “…I guess explaining all this now doesn’t really matter. I’ll give you a briefing the closer it gets to the Gala. You can just get back to…whatever you’re doing.”“Thank you for this information. I await future instruction.”Evidently done talking, Reyes turned on his heel to exit the closet. Just before he closed the door, Genji spoke up.“Commander. I believe you never told me the name of my partner for the Gala.”For the second time, Genji produced a smile on Reyes’ face. However, this one was not like the other. Gabriel had first offered Genji a smile from surprised respect. His new one was made of sadistic glee. “I don’t think that’ll be hard for you to figure out.”~~~There was no moon on the night of the UN’s Overwatch Gala.It was breezy; surprisingly cool for late May. But Genji could feel the humidity stuck in the air, heavy and thick. The comrades of Overwatch had traveled to northern America to celebrate yet another anniversary. Normally, Genji disliked such a gathering. To him, the only purpose was for the United Nations to revel with the pride that they had usurped from Overwatch’s achievements. The very thought if it repulsed him. Yet this year, Genji was looking forward to the celebration. While many others would be in full dress to appease the VIPs, he and a partner would be combing the shadows. A threat had been made, and it was his job to see that threat neutralized.Despite his satisfaction, there was a tiny seed anxiety in the pit of what was once his stomach. Genji was quite aware of what caused his disquiet, but he had no choice but to watch it grow into an uncomely weed he could not pull. The moment it had been planted was when Genji heard from the Strike Commander and Reyes that the attendees would reside in the hotel while he and his partner would hide in a local bed and breakfast. To hide their presence, they said. To not panic the other guests, they said. But Genji vehemently disagreed. Soldiers of Talon could easily change their plans. Could go after civilians. Or the Overwatch agents while vulnerable in their rooms.They might go after Angela Zeigler. And if Genji wasn’t there, if something happened to her…the last bit of joy within him would shrivel and die.Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes dismissed his worries, and they didn’t respond to his acrimonious attitude well. But Genji didn’t care. He argued with Morrison and Reyes for most of the plane ride, but he quit when he realized he wasn’t getting anywhere. So he stayed the night at the small inn, and while everyone at the five star hotel in the city had dined on Crème brûlée and caviar, he and his partner were treated to a complimentary breakfast that featured prepackaged muffins, bruised bananas and a coffee machine that seemed only to produce black sludge.It was then that Genji swore off American food for the rest of his life, but his partner seemed more than happy to partake in what he called “comfort food”.“Penny for yer thoughts?”Genji blinked as the low drawl of his partner’s voice brought him out of his daydream. He turned to see McCree smiling crookedly at him, an unlit cigar in his mouth. Genji could help but find his demeanor a bit inappropriate for the mission they were currently about to undertake, but he had come to realize that was just who McCree was. Accepting it would make it easier on him.Genji returned to his original position and said, “I was lost in thought. Forgive me.”The two of them were standing up on the roof of a lower building that was sitting perpendicular to the hotel where the Overwatch Gala was being held. The cover of night was enough to mask their presence, but Genji felt they would be much more noticeable if McCree decided to start smoking. Regardless, Genji coaxed himself into relaxing. Reyes and Morrison said infiltration would begin when all Overwatch attendees had entered. Impatience was clawing at his throat.The soft clink of a zippo rang in Genji’s ears. He heaved a heavy sigh.“Is it wise to smoke?”McCree took a drag from the cigar then said, “Mission ain’t started yet. Figure’m good till then.”“We could attract attention.”“Lotsa stuff could happen, Shimada. I could get shot. You could hush and let me smoke.”Genji snorted, refusing to dignify McCree with a response. If he wanted him quiet that badly, so be it. He would be as silent as the grave.Genji and McCree stood in silence until he saw the Overwatch limousine, which garishly displayed their logo on the hood of the vehicle, pull up to the front of the building. Lieutenant Wilhelm was the first to exit, then the driver. The two held the doors open as the rest of the team moved out. Captain Amari, then Angela Ziegler.The entire world slowed to a crawl when Genji saw her. Her blond hair had been let down, and it moved ever so slightly in the windy weather; Genji could feel it tickling the only human pieces of him left. The dress she had on was exquisite, and that was an understatement. From his position, he could see that it clung to her frame perfectly; not too tight, yet not too loose. It was a royal blue, the same color as her bewitching eyes. A heart shaped neck line, bare shoulders, silver jewelry. Powerful urges flowed through him in time with his heartbeat. He hadn’t felt desire in so long that it took the breath from him.“Admirin’ the view?”Genji whipped around to look at McCree. He had moved to stand beside him, a smarmy leer brazenly visible on his face.“I—I am waiting for the rest of our team to enter the hotel.”McCree flicked the butt of his cigar on the ground and crushed it with his heel. “Uh-huh.”Genji straightened his back. “We have no time to waste. Get ready.”“Dr. Zeigler’s right purty, ain’t she?”“…That—what does that have to do with our mission?”“Oh, well, nothin’ at all. Is’just I can’t help but notice you get all moon-eyed over her.”Genji bit his lip under his visor, cursing his lack of knowledge of American colloquialism. He said, “I do not follow. “Moon-eyed”? What does that mean?”McCree winked at Genji, and it made him feel confused. “Yer lookin’ at her like you haven’t eaten in weeks. Like you’re hungry. And I reckon you haven’t eaten in a while, have you?”Genji scoffed at McCree. “Please. I would not dare disrespect Dr. Zeigler in such a way. She is a comrade and someone who I owe my life to. Crass thoughts such as that would never cross my mind.”McCree only rolled his eyes. “That don’t mean nothin’, but deny it all you want. I know what I saw, and that’s you ogling her like she’s your high school sweetheart.”Genji clenched his jaw and said, “I mean no offense, McCree, but you cannot see my eyes. That is a baseless accusation.”“Shimada, I don’t need to see nothin’. It ain’t got nothin’ to do with your eyes. Soon as she walks into a room, you turn from this broody little lone wolf to a cute lil’ puppy dog, bless your heart.”Genij’s voice was hard as he said, “…That is none of your business…”McCree put his hands up and said, “All right, you got a fair point.”The two stood by the edge of the short building and watched the team of covert agents walk into the building. Genji felt a pang of envy shake his body when he watched Jack Morrison offer Angela an arm, but once they were no longer in sight, he swallowed it down like bitter medicine. There was a time and place, and now was not it. He and Jesse McCree nodded once to each other, then McCree put two fingers to his ear to activate the hidden microphone the agents all wore.“Alfa team, this’s Bravo team. We’re’n position.”“Reyes, here. No suspicious activity. Resume.”McCree replied, “Over and out” before he and Genji split apart. As Genji could climb and run faster due to his enhancements, McCree would cover the lower half while Genji would inspect the upper floors. With all his might, Genji ran forward and dashed towards the hotel. He hovered in the air, and took two deep breaths before he landed on the side of the hotel. Windows covered the entire thing, and Genji was thankful that his hands and feet had been coated with adhesive in prep for the infiltration.“Sparrow, this is Peacekeeper. Position?”Genji responded as he continued to climb: “Sparrow to Peacekeeper. Ascent is go. Status?”“Successful entrance. These rich folks…I tell you. Porch light’s on, but no one’s home.”McCree’s words made Genji move a little bit faster. If memory served, this hotel had over 30 floors, and it was the job of two to try and search them all. While maintaining a low profile. Surely not an easy task, but feasible for well-equipped Overwatch agents like himself and McCree.When Genji focused back on his trek upwards, he happily noticed that the top of the building was closer than he thought it had been. Once he reached the very top window, he used the tip of his metal hand to cut a clean circle in the glass; it would act as his own personal entrance and exit. As he crawled through vacant room on his hands and knees, Genji swiftly activated the motion sensor that had been installed into his visor. There was no sign of life on the very top floor, so he began the cyclic process of inspection. He would dash through the topmost hallways of the hotel and scan for possible Talon terrorists. The blood in his veins pumped as he anticipated the scent of the kills he would make.Because of his speed and the precision that his new mechanical upgrades offered him, the first ten floors went by faster than he had planned. The most unpopulated floors would surely contain snipers or armed grunts, but not one blip crossed his radar. It was vexing and concerning.“Sparrow to Alfa team. Ten floors down. No hostiles detected.”Genji could hear Jack Morrison’s frustration as he said, “Morrison to Bravo Team. Keep searching. There are too many civilians to do a quick sweep. Be thorough.”“Peacekeeper to Alfa Team,” McCree’s cool drawl was refreshing for Genji to hear when compared to Morrison. “I’ve trailed three suspicious fellas and I’ve got nothin’. Movin’ to investigate the floors with Sparrow.”Genji nodded albeit he knew no one could see him. While he and McCree didn’t always get along, Genji trusted him to take as much care with searching as he would. McCree’s demeanor made him the perfect undercover combatant. No one took him as seriously as they should. Not even Genji himself.Not a soul was in the next two floors, but it was past the halfway point that Genji found trouble. He detected two bodies in a room on the 12th floor. He moved on the tips of his toes to listen to see if he could hear conversation; it only took him a moment to move away and radio his team.“S-Sparrow to Alfa Team. Two bodies in room 1208. Noncombatants.”“Peacekeeper to Sparrow. You sure? I’ve got no bodies on the 3rd and 4th floor.”“They were—ah…They were…I believe the word is…copulating?”Over the radio, Genji could hear laughter from McCree and Captain Amari. Though he wasn’t sure exactly what she found funny.“Peacekeeper to Sparrow. Yeah, you might leave them be then.”As soon as McCree gave the okay, Genji dashed to the staircase so he could start investigating the 11th floor. On the other side, his motion detector picked up the movement of three other bodies, but these were much different than the ones that he had found before. When Genji pressed an ear to the door of room 1101, he could hear the conversation as clearly as if he had been right beside them.“Move into position at 20:30. We’ve got three others down there already that’ll make a scene that’ll let you move in.”“The Strike Commander will be onto us. Are you sure that’ll be good enough?”“It will if you can shoot. He can’t stop us if he’s dead, yeah?”Genji felt what was left of his human skin start to tingle. He had hit the jackpot. Backing away from the door, Genji placed his right hand over his ear.“Sparrow to Alfa Team. Hostiles found. Room 1101. They intend to assassinate the Strike Commander. Three agents are present at the Gala who will serve as a distraction for a sniper. Do I engage?”Silence. Genji counted to ten then spoke again.“Sparrow to Alfa Team. Do you copy?”Silence. Genji took three deep breaths, then said, “Sparrow to Peacekeeper?”Silence. Genji’s heart started beating so fast that he could no longer feel it. The door to room 1101 opened, and two tall men walked out of the room, both holding two large machine guns and wearing sinister smiles.“Seems like Overwatch’s pets took the bait,” one said under his breath.Though he wanted to respond, Genji couldn’t. Rage was swelling inside of his chest, and it wouldn’t be long before it exploded. He couldn’t even see the two people before his eyes. The only face perceivable was Angela’s.In two seconds, the Talon grunts started firing their weapons. Genji wanted to laugh, but his strong desire for the deaths overrode every single one of his other emotions. In one smooth motion, Genji flicked his Ryu-Ichimonji from his sheath and spun it, deflecting most the bullets back at them. As soon as he heard the click of the sword’s tsuba hit the sheath’s opening, the men rocked on their feet then fell in a pool of their own blood.“Sparrow to Alfa Team. Do you copy?”For half a minute, there was only emptiness. But, as though some angel had heard his heart’s one wish, a voice that he knew tickled the inside of his ear like the down of a feather.“Mercy to Sparrow. We have a hostage situation.”Tears threatened to fall from Genji’s eyes, but he put aside the blubbering relief. “Sparrow to Mercy. What is your position?”“I’m hiding in my room on the 6th floor. Reinhardt shoved me in the elevator when it happened.”“Are they planning to assassinate the Strike Commander?”“I don’t know. Some of the terrorists grabbed some civilians and threatened all the Overwatch Agents to disarm. But, like I said, they decided to help me get away.”“Any word from McCree?”“Not that I’ve heard. He could be listening now, hiding.”“Do not move, Dr. Zeigler. I will meet you. What is your room number?”“610. But don’t worry about me. I’m armed.”Genji shook his head. She might as well have asked him not to draw breath. He had two purposes in life: to destroy the Shimada, and to protect the woman who saved his soul.“Wait for only a moment. I will be there soon.”With speed not even Genji knew he had, he raced down the stairs until he found the entrance to the sixth floor. Once he could tell her body was the only one in the vicinity, he knocked twice on the door to room 610 and said, “I am here, Dr. Zeigler.”“Sorry, Genji. Please prove to me it’s you.”Genji’s brain searched for a moment, then said, “You put peppermint in your hot chocolate.”A click rang out, and then the door cracked open. Genji hurried inside, then turned around to Angela Zeigler. Regret washed over him, as he found that she was no longer wearing the blue gown, but a fluffy white bathrobe. The second he realized, he turned 180 degrees to face the entrance.“I—Dr. Ziegler, I—forgive me, doctor. I had no idea you were not dressed.”There was a mix of sourness and despondency in her voice as she said, “I wish I was too. When Reinhardt pushed me into the elevator, my dress caught and ripped on the door. And I was so looking forward to dancing in that dress, too…”Genji clenched his hands into fists. He longed to comfort her, but he knew he was not good enough. “I…am sorry, doctor.”Angela sighed and said, “Well, there’s always next year, yes? I’m going to change in the bathroom, see if you can’t keep trying to radio McCree.”Angela shut the bathroom door, and then Genji turned back around. Her room seemed mostly untouched, though there was what seemed to be a bag of cosmetics on the floor by the complimentary television. He was more surprised that the kitchen in the suite seemed untouched. Surely she would have had coffee. Unconsciously, Genji discovered that he was smiling to himself. Her scent, the smell of freshly-picked blackberries, had submerged the entire room. More than killing, more than meditation, it was this smell that tamed the wayward anger inside his head. Breaking his own rule, Genji allowed himself to take it in; to become like the rhythmic tide, like the stillness of night, like he was human again.But McCree’s words slithered up like a poisonous snake. He was hungry for her. Genji knew it regardless of his original renunciation. And Genji would not allow himself to regress; he would not be the libertine, the outcast, the disappointment. Never again. He would dedicate himself to revenge, to redeeming himself through Overwatch’s philanthropy, through defending the life that had given him a second chance. Feeling anything more would unnecessary and a burden.“Genji?”He looked up and saw that Angela had changed into the outfit she wore as a first-responder. Having her hair tied up made Genji feel safe, as it was so familiar. With a perplexed frown, Angela waved a hand in front of his face, and Genji’s vision refocused.“Sparrow to Peacekeeper,” Genji said after slapping his hand over his ear. The force jostled him a bit.Genji and Angela faced one another as they waited for any signs of McCree. Just when they had lost all hope, a static crackled through their microphones.“Peacekeeper to Sparrow. M’hidin’ behind one of the side exits near the ballroom. Lotsa Talon agents in there with some hostages.”“Mercy to Peacekeeper. I escaped the ballroom. There should be at least ten of them. I’m not sure what they are after.”“Sparrow to Peacekeeper. I am with Mercy. I overheard two Talon agents say they plan on assassinating the Strike Commander, but it seems I was deceived.”“Peacekeeper to Sparrow. What’s your position?”“We’re in my room, 610, Jesse. Rendezvous at our position.”McCree cleared his throat and asked, “Both of ya?”Genji muttered under his breath, “Yes.”There was a long pause before McCree said, “Should I give you two a minute alone?”Angela giggled, but Genji growled, “Meet at our position, McCree.”“All right, all right. You ain’t gotta tell me twice.”Angela and Genji sat in silence as they waited for McCree to show up. About ten minutes passed before there was a knock on the door. After one of Angela’s tests to authenticate his identity, McCree strolled into the hotel room with a grim sneer on his face. Genji found that he appreciated an appropriate reaction from his partner, though it was apparent to him that McCree’s sour face did not help Angela’s mood.“I was eavesdropping and I think I heard that they’re threatenin’ all the Overwatch agents to surrender to them or they’re gonna kill the hostages. Some of’em are women, too, I heard one of’em scream.”Angela but down on her finger. Genji just sighed.“We need a plan,” Angela said softly.“We must be tactful,” said Genji, “or they will start killing.”McCree pulled his hat off to wipe his brow with a handkerchief. He then said, “Well if I know Reyes and Morrison, they’re stallin’ as much’s they can. But we can’t just go chargin’ in there.”“We need to distract them somehow,” Genji replied.All three Overwatch officers sat beside each other on the plush blue couch in Angela’s suite. Each one racked their brain for a clue. Genji could only think of the windows that he had seen while ascending the building; were there even windows in the ballroom? And they would have to find a way in there unseen. If he managed to crawl on the surface of the ceiling, he could drop down behind them for a surprise attack. But there were at least ten terrorists in the room; he would be outnumbered. Would it be enough time for Reyes and the rest of the Overwatch executives to save—“A fire!”Angela’s shout made both Genji and McCree jerk.McCree pulled a cigar and his zippo from a hidden pocket in his shirt and said, “Come again, Angie?”“We can start a fire. That can distract Talon long enough for us to route them.”Genji liked the sound of the plan, but it seemed a bit hollow. He asked, “How would this work?”With a prideful smirk, Angela pointed up to the strange red protrusion on the roof over her bed. “Fire alarms. If there’s a fire, they’ll go off and trigger the sprinklers, which means…”Though no one could see it, the realization made Genji’s eyes as wide as dinner plates. If the fire alarm could trigger a reaction, Talon’s hold over the hostages could loosen due to the possibility of a fire. Especially one that could cause the whole building to fall. Her plan was not foolproof, but it was the best shot they had at saving everyone.McCree lit his cigar and chuckled, “Brilliant as always, Miss Angie. I think that’ll buy me and Shimada some time to sneak in and get t’work.”To show he agreed, Genji offered Angela a slight bow and said, “Thank you for your help, doctor.”“Question is,” said McCree, “how are we gonna trigger the fire alarms?”Angela extended an open palm out to McCree and said, “Give me your lighter. I’ll figure that out. You and Genji should go down to the ballroom and wait for the alarm.”“It is unwise for any of us to be alone, Dr. Zeigler,” Genji said. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword as the fear of harm coming upon her gripped his heart.“This needs to be done simultaneously,” Angela’s eyes steeled before him. “We can’t risk those lives. I’ve got a gun, and I know how to hide.”Genji’s voice grew cold as he said, “We do not know if there are any other agents searching the building. A surprise attack could be around the corner. I do not think any of us are prepared. There is safety in numbers.”McCree exhaled cigar smoke and said, “Miss Angie’s right, Shimada. If she’s fast, this’ll be easy.”But Genji could not agree. There wasn’t a person alive who could change his mind when it came to the safety of Angela Zeigler. Once his two partners could tell he would not budge, they created a compromise. Because of his swift feet, Genji would stay with Angela just long enough for her to start the fire. Once it was lit, he would rush back to the ballroom. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw McCree stifling a laugh (which, to Genji, was a subtle “I told you so”), but Genji forced himself to turn a blind eye to it. Angela’s welfare, as well as the welfare of everyone in the ballroom, mattered so much more than McCree’s banal interpretations of his actions.The three of them surveyed the hallway (Genji with the motion detector on his visor), and McCree walked to the stairwell once they could tell there were no Talon operatives. Genji and Angela set to work lighting the remains of Angela’s torn formal dress underneath the smoke detector.Strangely, he found Angela flicking the zippo open to let the flames lick the lace and silk to be a pleasing sight. Briefly, he projected his own wishes onto the fabric; he saw the faces of Shimada criminals, of his past and of his brother in the fire. It reaffirmed that their destruction would be the moment he could truly begin again.“You really should have gone with McCree, Genji,” Angela said, her voice as heated as the burning dress.“McCree will be fine.”Angela’s glare could have melted him if it were real. “And I wouldn’t be? Do you really think the only thing I’m capable of is being a doctor?”Genji’s whole frame slumped. She had misunderstood; she believed he doubted her. “Dr. Zeigler, I—““I’m a first responder for a reason, you know. There was a reason Reyes chose me for this mission! I’m just as capable on the battlefield as I am in a hospital.”“I have made a grave error, I humbly ask for your forgiveness, doctor,” Genji said, then abruptly bowed.Angela huffed, then replied, “Then go after McCree. I’m fine here.”“I will not.”“Then you don’t believe in me at all! Your “apology” means absolutely nothing.”“Still you misunderstand me, doctor. I—““No, Genji, I think I read you loud and clear. Let’s just hurry up and end this. I already had to burn the dress I was excited to wear. I won’t get to dance, and I can’t even go on a mission without you wanting to babysit me.”Genji bit down on his tongue to curb his temper. “Dr. Zeigler, I am not here with you because I think you are incompetent.” Angela folded her arms over her chest and kept her gaze on the fire. “Sure, Genji. Sure. Thank you for your concern, but you don’t need to worry about me.”“Yet, that is exactly the reason why I cannot leave.”Angela laughed without humor, then muttered, “Ah, I see. Well, I must seem quite the delicate flower to you. What a nice senti—“With more force then he had ever directed at her, Genji snapped, “I am here because if anything happened to you, it would destroy me.”At a snail’s pace, she turned her face back to him, a mix of curiosity and astonishment on her face.Genji continued: “If you were killed, or hurt….and I could have prevented it, but did not…I would never…ever…be able to live with myself. Living is already a trial enough, but with the weight of your death on my hands…the person who I wished to protect the most…I fear for what would happen to me. I am already consumed by so much darkness…”Genji felt a crippling embarrassment as he realized the implications of his confession. He wanted so badly to look away from her face, but no matter how hard he tried, Genji could not move an inch. Her eyes darted around as she searched for her words, and the hint of a blush pinkened her cheeks.“…Genji…” she murmured, but it was cut off by the piercing trill of the fire alarm.The sound was enough to refresh Genji’s mind; the sound had been the gunshot that signaled the race, and his feet ran to trail McCree. Angela’s reaction, the consequences of what he said, were all shoved to the back of his mind as he endeavored to beat the sprinklers to the ballroom. But as he ran, he found that his right hand sought his still human heart. Genji could feel its beating, the blood that continued to pump through the skin he had. It had been years since this sensation had hit him, but he allowed it to caper through his system the same as he had through the shadowy hallways of the hotel.For the first time since his reconstruction, Genji had felt truly human.~~~McCree and Genji had met up at one of the side entrances of the ballroom. Genji had just finished running when the sprinklers had begun to rain down upon the attendants and Talon agents. McCree and Genji looked at each other and nodded once before they stormed in. Many people screamed, and amid the chaos, a gunshot rang out. Genji had leapt towards the ceiling, and was intrigued by the fact that McCree had been able to shoot one of the terrorists right between the eyes. The woman who he had been holding ran into the arms of what Genji assumed was her wife, and he decided McCree’s first bullet was the signal for him to pounce.Like a lithe panther, he bounded towards a Talon and let his sword dig deep into the skin. The wet sound of the blade cutting through muscle was a better high than any drug could have given him. After the clean cut, he stopped and found that Captain Amari had shot a poor bastard twice in the knees, and Reyes had, shockingly, held a small girl in his arms. The smile on Gabriel’s face as he handed her back to a couple was something Genji swore that he would take to his grave.Evacuation of the civilians was handled by himself and Captain Amari, while McCree and Reyes gave a report on all the events to the FBI representatives that had arrived at the scene. The terrorist that were not killed were apprehended by Jack Morrison and Lieutenant Wilhelm, but most of them did not make it out of the hotel; they had taken cyanide pills to avoid capture. What a waste, Genji had thought. If death was what they had wanted, putting up a fight in the first place was pointless.News crews had set up camp on the red carpet. Surely this event would be televised across the world, but it spelled more acclaim for Overwatch, so Genji found it to be irritatingly useful. But he had no desire to stand in front of cameras; the more secret his identity, the easier it would be for him to catch the Shimada unaware. Jack Morrison, like always, dealt with the press and their slew of questions. Overwatch operatives got the jump on Talon before anyone was killed, he said. Barring a few injuries, everything had been resolved in the best way possible.Once the ruckus had died down, Genji and McCree received a mountain of kudos from their fellow Overwatchers as they sat together outside the hotel. Reyes particularly praised Genji, but ignored McCree.“I was simply doing my duty,” Genji said, waving a dismissive hand.“That’s all well an’ good,” said McCree, “but does this mean us heroes get a bit of shore leave?”“You can have shore leave when you stop asking for it,” Reyes said with a tart tone.Instead, Reinhardt threw an arm around McCree and cried, “Let us drink and be merry. This is a victory for good, and should be treated as one. Come, I will treat us all!” McCree tipped a hat towards that offer, then pulled out a zippo and lit a cigar. When Genji saw it, Angela’s blushing face bloomed at the forefront of his mind, and he immediately made his way back towards the ballroom. He heard Ana Amari and Morrison call after him, but he did not stop.When Genji walked through the large threshold to the ballroom, he found that his assumption had been on the mark. Standing in the middle of the carnage was Angela Zeigler, the dim light of the wall lamps giving her yellow hair an orange glint. Melancholy had shaped her lips into a small pout, and Genji fought with his initial reaction to it. It was endearing, but the thought of her sadness made him want to fix it.“Doctor,” he said, his voice echoing in the emptiness. Instantly, she looked up at him. Realizing his presence, she masked the gloom with a wink.“Figured I’d at least spend a little more time here since I had to put out the dress.”Genji asked, “Are you unharmed?”“Oh, yes, of course. I put the fire out, too. I need to give Jesse his lighter back. I'm tempted to keep it, though. To keep him from smoking.““Do not bother. I have seen him with a spare.““Well...there goes my plan.“A silence hung in the ballroom air, but Angela was the first to break it. “Also, Genji…I’m sorry that I got angry with you.”“Think nothing of it. You were justified. I did not explain my reasoning. It is natural to feel offended in such a situation.”Angela rubbed her arms as though she felt a chill and said, “That’s not a very good excuse for my actions though. It seems I’ve just made too many mistakes tonight.”Genji, slowly, made his way towards her. “The idea you had worked perfectly, doctor. Truly, you are gifted. Had it not been for you, many people would have lost their lives today. When I return to the Strike Commander, I will make sure he knows you were the architect of this plan.”Offering him a shrug, she said, “It doesn’t matter to me. I’ve never liked all that attention. It’s just an excuse to do more things like this…”Angela looked at her feet and then back up. With a sad smile, she said, “This is the first time I’ve actually been to one of these, you know. I was excited; I’ve always wanted to go to a ball ever since I was a girl. I had that dress fitted three times before today. Seems like it was just a waste…”Like watching a film, Genji recalled the pain on Angela’s face when she explained that her dress had been shredded, that she had wanted to dance so badly. There was not much that he could do. Her beautiful dress had been sacrificed to save everyone, and replacing it would be an otiose gesture.But still, Genji straightened his back. Her dress was a lost cause, but one thing was not.“…Well, Dr. Zeigler. We are here together in this ballroom. There is no music, and it certainly has been disheveled.”Angela snorted then said, “More like demolished.”“And yet, I find myself in a certain mood.”With the grace of a prince, Genji bowed before Angela Zeigler and offered a hand to her.“Would you dance with me?”She did not answer him right away. He allowed her to absorb his request. Her hand reached out to him, hesitated, but then held it tightly.Broken-voiced, she said, “I was…hoping you might ask me…”Once he knew she had agreed, he pulled her close to him. The hand that did not cup hers was rested against the small of her back, and hers was placed against his chest. If Genji was being truthful, dancing was not his favorite thing. Skill and desire both kept him from pursing it, but his physical training made it a bit easier for him to do. He moved her in a makeshift waltz; they carved out a circle on the marble floor, but neither of them tripped over the other this way. When he was comfortable enough, he playfully spun her a bit, which was a decision he was glad he made; Angela’s bashful face was the best reward he could have gotten from today.As they swayed, Genji let his imagination shape the atmosphere. Angela had been reunited with her stunning blue dress; the room was bright and the music was chic and jovial. He wore a stylish tuxedo, and all eyes in the room gravitated to the attractive man and gorgeous woman. She was like a princess, and he the suitor. They were the envy of the UN, of Overwatch, of the world. He was handsome and human. Genji would lean in to kiss her, and she would meet him.To kiss her.Genji’s feet stopped, and so did Angela’s.“Genji, are you all right?”The image of his lips on hers, of her mouth tasting like the blackberries she always smelled like; it was the rush he had been craving. More so than the feel of killing, than the speed he could achieve, then even the idea of his revenge. The impression of Angela Zeigler’s lips roused a beast within him. He thought of McCree, of this hunger he had accused Genji of having, and it was the idea of kissing Angela that brought McCree’s prediction true. The feeling thrilled and frightened him.He smiled and said, “I am just fine, doctor. Thank you for allowing me to dance with you.”Both seemed disgruntled as Genji pulled away, but they kept their positivity on the surface.“No, Genji, I should be the one thanking you. You made this night…so much better.”Genji gave Angela’s hand one last squeeze before he released it. “As have you.”The air between them grew awkward. Genji could not do anything but smile and laugh, but Angela seemed fidgety. Obviously overwhelmed, she stumbled back towards the front of the hotel, saying “Well, it’s probably time for me to get to bed, right? No days of for me, of course.”Tenderly, Genji said, “Of course, doctor. Rest well.”After a slight wave, Angela turned her back to him and began to leave. But Genji could not feel sad as he watched her go. Clinging to the sensation of her body in his arms, he memorized every curve. In the reverie of their dance, Genji had unearthed a secret that he would treasure forever; something that he knew he should not feel, but felt in spite of how taboo it was. And once he took that first step forward, he knew he would never be able to go back.Genji was, fervently and unduly, in love with Angela Zeigler.~~~“I’ve always thought you were a good dancer,” Angela said as she brought another hot cup of tea to her face. She hoped the steam would be a good excuse for her red face.“It will surprise you to hear, then, that I have rarely ever danced in my life,” Genji said then rested his elbows on his knees and held his own hands.“Not much surprises me anymore, to be frank.”“Truly?”Angela shrugged, then sipped her tea. She said, “When you are as old as me, when you’ve traveled so much, it just happens. Nihil Admirari.”“…Nihil…I am sorry, doctor. I am not familiar with this phrase.”“It’s Latin. “Let nothing surprise you”. I think some famous philosopher invented it. Again, it’s something only old women like me bother with.”“Old? Far from it, doctor. You are radiant.”Quietly, Angela responded, “Now you’re teasing me.”Genji squared his shoulders, and it made Angela straighten up as well. She knew what that meant; that Genji was about to take a very big risk.“…Would it surprise you to know, then, doctor…that it was at that moment when I knew how I felt about you?”There was a part of her that wanted to run because of the fear that the word “felt” that churned her stomach. But Angela knew that if she and Genji were going to progress, to reshape their relationship, she had to summon her courage. Recoiling meant doom. This was the second step, the second move on the chessboard, and the turn had passed to her. Setting her teacup onto the table between them, she mumbled, “That’s…more surprising than I thought.”Genji nodded, his eyes never wavering. “I suspect so. That moment is what started me on the path to my salvation.”“I think you’re giving me too much credit yet again, Genji.”“Certainly not. I would not be the man I am now if not for you.”Angela rested her chin on her hand and asked, “And why that particular moment?”Genji’s eyes were looking out of a window when he said, “I thought of loving you, and it seemed natural. Right. It was that moment that I wanted to believe we were bound by a thread of fate.”A thread of fate. That phrase galvanized a memory that had been buried a long time ago. She couldn’t help but smirk when she realized that it was exactly what she needed. Genji had recounted the memory of the moment he fell for her, but Angela had not thought to do the same. Perfection.“Ah, but don’t forget Genji,” she said while wagging a finger, “that it was me who cut our red thread of fate a long time ago.”It didn’t take long for him to catch on. They had a thread of fate that bound them to another memory. One of snow, of tears, of regret. One where luck had helped them both to cheat death itself. The moment where their love had become mutual. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Dr. Angela Zeigler did not dislike wintry weather, but the cold of Siberia was enough to make her never want to see snow again.More than a year had passed since the night of the Overwatch Gala. Angela had hoped that the situations within Overwatch would improve, but sadly she was mistaken. The UN had started turning its back on one of their most beloved creations, and the media was rife with scandals involving their covert operations division, Blackwatch. She was not directly involved with Blackwatch, yet from what she had heard from Jesse and Genji, the darkest corners of Overwatch were about to be exposed. Fury and disappointment had made Angela retreat from it all; she didn’t want to believe the cause she had joined could do such horrible things. Doing good was what she dedicated her life to; what she had surrendered everything to. To discover that the organization she had trusted so stridently had betrayed her would certainly break what spirit she had left.She shuddered from both fear and the chill. She had only just exited the helicopter in to the snow-covered wasteland, and already she wanted to turn around and go home. The thought of returning to a fleece blanket and hot peppermint cocoa made he walk briskly towards the massive, domed structure in the distance.Turning back once to look at the stationary helicopter that had dropped her off, Angela waved. Then a voice rang in her ear.“Amari to Mercy. The faster you walk, the faster we can find some place warm, doctor.”Dr. Zeigler huffed and did not respond to Ana Amari. Having the captain hear her teeth knocking together as she tried to talk would be far too embarrassing. But she quickened her pace all the same. Upon reaching the halfway point, she met with two armed guards who were to act as her escort. As she began to walk with them, another voice entered her ear. But this time, it was a voice, smooth as silk, that brought a smile to her icy face.“Sparrow to Mercy. We have your position. Please report if you encounter danger, Dr. Zeigler.”Angela began to giggle, then hid it by pretending to cough. When Reyes briefed her about this mission a week ago, he said an agent would be acting as backup in case of an emergency; she knew immediately who would end up volunteering. It had taken her a while to understand, but she finally began to appreciate Genji Shimada’s protective side. Certainly, it came from the debt he felt towards his rescue in the hospital. Frequently, she had tried to remind him it was Jack Morrison who had pulled Genji’s body out from the mire; even so, he still felt that he owed more to her than any other. Every way she looked at it, it didn’t make sense. Regardless, she accepted that part of Genji. His kindness had brought them together, and she now had no closer friend in Overwatch than he.Yet, there were times when Angela found herself thinking back to the night of the Gala, Genji offering his hand to her in the derelict ballroom, and her body would hum with heat. The moment had struck her so that it was now appearing in her dreams. She could not stand near him without feeling electrified. That fever made her coquettishly shy, and Angela admitted only to herself that she enjoyed it. Something was budding in the deepest chamber of her heart, and she wasn’t sure if she should pull the roots or let it grow.Nevertheless, she had put all her recent tumults aside to focus on the job she had been given. Before Angela had left, Captain Amari, Genji and herself had created code phrases that she could communicate to them without being noticed. Per Genji’s suggestion, most of them were in Japanese, as she felt the Russian doctors and scientists would likely not have studied the language. Under her breath, Mercy mumbled, “white snow” in Genji’s native tongue.There was a chuckle on the other end. “Your pronunciation is improving, doctor.”Angela rolled her eyes, wishing Genji could see her face.The snowfall lightened a bit when Angela and her escorts reached the front of the Siberian medical outpost. There to greet her by the large doors were the two doctors she had spoken to on video chat those two months ago. Dr. Sokolov was a tall, thin man with a bald head and a sharp face. His second-in-command, Dr. Ricci, was not Russian, but Italian-American. She had long, dark hair braided behind her and beautifully tanned skin. The pair were smiling as Dr. Zeigler bowed to them.“It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Dr. Zeigler,” Sokolov cheered, and shook her hand so fervently that she felt he’d rip her arm off. “I must say, you are even more radiant than I originally thought you.”“You are too kind, Dr. Sokolov. I’m also so glad to finally meet face to face,” Angela replied, though her teeth clicked together once her mouth was no longer warm from her breath.“Please come in, doctor, and get out of this cold,” Ricci said, though she kept her face cast downward. Dr. Ricci was a timid person, per Sokolov, so Angela gave her thanks and followed the two into the facility.“Don’t mind if I do,” Angela said, and she had to stop herself from sprinting to find heat.The interior of the medical research lab wasn’t anything incredibly spectacular by Angela’s standards. In truth, it looked more like a hospital than a laboratory. White tiled floors, the widows above were the class of the dome overhead, but there were many clear glass doors around the main foyer with names inscribed on them. The offices of the lead doctors, she imagined. At the end of the room was a desk that was cut in a half circle and connected to the walls. Two large thresholds with doors that bore not names, but the phrase “Research Personnel Only” in bold, red letters. Sokolov locked eyes with the young, spectacled man who acted as the receptionist, and the two shared a nod before Sokolov held the door open for the two ladies.As the three walked down the narrow hallway, Dr. Ricci’s voice floated up to Angela’s ears.“I-I’ve been reading your thesis on synthetic muscleclature, Dr. Zeigler. I was stunned that it was written by someone so young. I-It’s very inspiring work, truly it is.”“I’m flattered, Dr. Ricci. Though, I must admit, most of that thesis is probably no longer applicable. I confess that most of my time has spent less in research and more in practice.”Pushing her lips side to side, Dr. Ricci replied, “Oh, y-yes, well, I’m certain Overwatch medics are very busy with hands on medicine, I was just hoping to, well, pick your brain about what new discoveries might be on the horizon for our practice, naturally, of course, Dr. Zeigler.”Just as Angela was about to answer Ricci, Sokolov’s deep laughter broke apart their conversation. “Forgive my second, Dr. Zeigler. She is, how you say, enamored with you? I have heard nothing but your name from her these last weeks.”“How precious,” Captain Amari purred. “Seems like our Mercy has fans across this globe.”Genji’s reply was terse: “Yes, it seems this is true.”Subtle pinkness flushed Ricci’s face, but Angela waved away Sokolov’s teasing.“Frankly, Dr. Ricci, it’s me whose impressed with the work of the doctors here. If you have figured out instantaneous body cell repair, you could have theoretically just covered the serum for immortality.”Over her hidden communicator, Angela heard a hushed exclamation from Captain Amari.Dr. Ricci squeaked, “Ah, no, um, I, Dr. Zeig—““Let us not get ahead of ourselves, Dr. Zeigler,” Sokolov said with a smirk. “Perhaps not the key to stopping death, but aging yes. I’m excited to show you!”After the long hallway was cleared, Angela and the other doctors came into a large, painfully white room. There were many tables bound to the floor with tablets and various medical equipment scattered on them. Six other doctors were in the room gathered around one table, and they were chatting amongst themselves, though Angela could not pick up the topic of their conversation. When they noticed Dr. Sokolov, they stopped on a dime and rushed to great the three of them. Angela struggled with remembering all their names, but there were four women and two men. The two males were from Japan, but there were two Russian women, a woman from Brazil and one from France. The diversity in the room made Angela’s chest swell from pride. Nothing was more satisfying then seeing the people of the world coming together for the sake of saving lives.“Dr. Zeigler, if you would remain here. Dr. Ricci is going to take the other doctors to the lab next door to help prep the serum,” said Dr. Sokolov, who handed a card key over to Ricci. “I would like to stay here and talk about having the patients at the Overwatch hospital as the first trial subjects for the medicine, yes?”“Yes, of course,” Angela said. She pulled a chair from the desk the other doctors had been using.Dr. Ricci shuffled the other doctors out of the room so hurriedly that Angela found it bizarre. Nevertheless, she couldn’t do or say anything about it. Rousing suspicion would be dangerous. There was a theory formulated by Jack and Reyes that Sokolov had contacted Overwatch HQ in order to make a profit off of his invention; they had never had contact with this outpost previously, and it would make sense for people like Sokolov to be seeking distinction in the medical circle, as no one had heard of his name. But it was Angela’s personal hypothesis that Sokolov had filched the credit of the breakthrough in cellular repair from the young Dr. Ricci. Influence was easy for the head of a facility and a veteran practitioner, and Ricci was far too reticent to fight back. So, Angela had made it her mission to discover what secret seemed to be looming in this oasis in the snow.Sokolov took a seat across the table from her. He had a smile that showed all his teeth, unlike before. It was fake, yet terrifying.“So, Dr. Zeigler. Before we start talking business, I’d like to know more about you.”Angela crossed her legs and asked, “About me?”“Does that surprise you?”“Somewhat. I usually don’t find colleagues wanting to talk about their personal lives instead of medicine.”“As you can probably tell, I enjoy knowing more than just the name of the people that I work with. Forgive me if this is unfamiliar. I’ll be blunt; I’ve followed your work often, like Dr. Ricci. You are certainly a doctor that I have aspired to be like, Dr. Zeigler.”Angela had wanted to take off her coat, but with every word Sokolov spoke, she found herself less and less inclined.“It’s humbling to hear, Dr. Sokolov, that I have enthused so many people. I have a lot to live up to, surely.”Sokolov gave her a low chuckle, then touched his bearded chin with his left thumb and forefinger. “I would not use “enthused”, doctor. It is more like…“smitten”, I believe.”Blinking once, Angela said, “Smitten? That’s a strong word, Dr. Sokolov.”Sokolov just nodded, he reached over and took one of Angela’s hands in his, then placed the other on top of it. “Yet it is true. Dr. Zeigler, I know this is unprofessional. But, with you being here…I cannot find my own decorum. I must do this.” “Please, we—““I’m thoroughly taken with you Dr. Zeigler. You’re beauty is unparalleled, but more so, your work has moved me. You are like…my guardian angel.”Angela was about to interject, but she heard a strong snap over the microphone. Like the breaking of a bone. Her heart jumped to her throat, but it slowed when Ana Amari’s stifled laughter filled the silence.“Seems like Shimada’s not handling this conversation very well, Mercy. I’d put an end to this nonsense.”Angela took a deep breath and as she focused back on Sokolov. His eyes were narrowed with confusion, so she demurely looked away and bit her lip.“Ah-I…forgive me, Dr. Sokolov, I’ve never been in this situation before.”“Oh, I am certain you have not,” Sokolov said, running a finger down her throat. Angela had to bite down so hard on her tongue to keep from slapping his face.“Which is why…I’m going to make you an offer, Angela.”Angela clenched her jaw and asked, “What offer?”Dr. Sokolov leaned away from Angela to sit correctly in his chair. Then from underneath it, he slowly revealed a gleaming, silver handgun.“If you don’t want me to kill you, you’ll do as I say.”From over the microphone, a loud rattling went off in her ear, and Angela winced from the pain. She heard Captain Amari scream, “Hold, Shimada!” before more static clogged the communication.“First thing’s first,” Sokolov said, spinning the gun in his hand, “take out that bug. This is a private conversation, my pet.”Angela forced herself to stare, unblinking, at Sokolov. She had suspected a plot, but not one that involved weapons. Chagrin made her neck hot; she should have listened to Reyes and brought something to defend herself, but she was so certain it was something more banal that she let herself get lax. If she died today, it would be due to her own hubris.With shaking hands, Angela pulled the small, clear communicator from her ear and placed it in front of her on the table. Sokolov plucked it like a flower and then crushed it under his heal like a bug. Once she knew Sokolov was distracted, Angela reached to the back of her shirt and touched the plastic bug that Ana had clipped to her shirt. A back-up plan; one that only wired her directly to whoever had the other spare. She placed the wire to it in the opposite ear and hid it all with her own hair. Genji Shimada’s face hung in the forefront of her mind. It was very likely that he was the one that had it. He had come for her protection; perhaps if he could sneak into the facility, she might not have to die. The fact that she was forced to rely on someone else to protect her made her stomach roll, but that would not stop her from trying to fight her own way out.“Now we are truly alone,” Sokolov said with a contented sigh, and Angela felt the hands of fear, colder than Siberian snow, freeze her in her chair.“What do you want, Sokolov?”“Why, Dr. Zeigler. I believe I have said it already, yes? It’s you who I am after.”Disgust from his perversion made Angela want to vomit, but she kept the burning bile at bay with her own determination.“All that maudlin foolishness before? I don’t buy it. What’s your game?”Sokolov laughed, loudly and clearly. “You are something indeed, Angela Zeigler! The more I hear you, the more I want you.”Sokolov meandered over to her, his hands gently fumbling with her hair. Instinct made her jerk away from him, but Sokolov didn’t take that well at all. Rage darkened his eyes, and he seized her forcefully by the jaw.“Let me tell you a secret, Angela Zeigler. I would like you to live. I’d like to avoid doing what I should do. But that’s if you’re a good girl. Can you be a good girl for me.”Angela said nothing, only imagined herself biting the foul hand that touched her skin. Flashes of her nightmarish past resurfaced; the two people who she had once called “foster parents”, the pain from the bruises, the screaming, the starvation. It was not the first time she had been grabbed like this, but she had hoped it would have been the last. To keep herself from crying, she forced herself to think about another hand that would not hurt her so. But who would? The parents who she had wanted were ghosts even in her memories. There were no hands to hold her in comfort.A whisper flitted into her ear. “Sparrow to Mercy. I cannot hear what this Sokolov is saying, but I can hear you, doctor. Please, hold on!”Genji’s voice reignited a flame within her. He was there, Overwatch was there. They were her home, her reason to not give up. She could not let someone so repulsive break her spirit. She had helped save his life, but he was the one that had fought to live. Genji was not the person who would rescue her, but the person who would let her rescue herself. After she shut her eyes tightly, Angela could return Sokolov’s fierce gaze yet again.“You’re supposed to kill me, then? Whose pocket are you in?”Sokolov tossed Angela’s face, then pressed the muzzle of the pistol into the softness of her cheek. “I’m feeling generous today, my pet, so before you die, I’ll give you a hint. My research? This lab? Not medical. My benefactors? Not government. Can you guess?”He removed the gun, then Angela smirked and said, “Well, I think that means this was a trap from the start. And there’s only one group who wants to trap Overwatch agents. You are a Talon lackey, correct?”“I don’t like being anyone’s lackey, Dr. Zeigler,” Sokolov snarled.“Feel how you like. You’re still a scientist whose been bought by terrorists. If you’re going to kill me and collect your reward, go ahead and finish it. My death won’t stop Overwatch.”Angela heard Genji swear in Japanese, then say, “The outside guard has been defeated, but they have shut down the facility from the inside. I will find a way in. Keep him talking, Mercy. I will not let any harm come to you!”“I’m sure you would like that, Angela Zeigler, but my comment about killing you was meant to lament the mercy it would bring you. I’m afraid Talon has more...interesting plans than you think. And for that, they need you alive.”Angela’s eyes widened at his words. “What…are you talking about?”Slithering back up to her, he caressed the side of her face with the back of his fingers, amusement twisting his face into an impish leer. “Oh, I am sure you’d love to know, my pet. I’m feeling generous again, so I’ll give you one more hint. Talon can change people, as you can tell. They’ve changed me from a mere man into a force to be reckoned with. But I think they’re planning to change you, too. A bit more hands on, though.”Angela’s eyes darted from Sokolov to the table in front of her as her mind tried to wrap around what the fraudulent doctor was implying. Mind altering experimentation was the only conclusion she could draw, and the thought of it labored her breathing.“Mmmhmm, though I might request that they add in some…personal suggestions, yes, doctor?”“You’re sick,” Angela said softly. “I hope you don’t sexually harass all of the women here like this.”That phrase must have triggered something in Genji; his shouting was painful in her ear, and the Japanese was so fast that she could not even hope to comprehend what it was he was saying.Sokolov tucked the muzzle under her chin, then brought his face so close to Angela’s that she could smell his stale breath. “Do you want to know what I think, Dr. Zeigler? It’s time that you—“A gunshot rang out, and Angela shut her eyes as she waited to feel the bullet pierce her skull, but she felt the muzzle pull from underneath her chin, not pain. There was an anguished scream, Angela opened her eyes just in time to see Solokov slump to the floor, blood pooling from his shoulder onto the floor. Whipping her head around, she saw a trembling Dr. Ricci standing with a gaping face and a gun gripped so tightly in her hand that it had paled her tanned knuckles.“Oh, my God,” Ricci cried, but Angela flew from her seat and snatched the gun that Sokolov had been holding.“Mercy to Sparrow! Sokolov’s been shot, I’ve got his gun. Give me your position so we can rendezvous.”The joy was flagrant in Genji’s voice as he said, “Sparrow to Mercy. Who shot Sokolov? Are there any more hostiles in the area?”“Drop. The. Gun,” Angela said firmly, yet cautiously to the unhinged Dr. Ricci. Her eyes had become wide and glassy, and her hands shook violently as she kept the nose of the gun pointed at the bleeding Russian terrorist on the floor.“Where are you, Dr. Zeigler,” Genji’s voice came in sharply.“I shot him,” Dr. Ricci whispered, but she didn’t sound regretful. More like baffled.“Put the gun down,” Angela said more harshly, and she turned the one in her hand from Sokolov to Ricci. Pangs of shame and guilt made her throat burn, but if she was going to save anyone, she had to do what was necessary. Solving issues without violence was her preferred method, but Angela was not guileless. And she certainly had no desire to die today.At the sight of the weapon, there was a fast and severe shift in Ricci’s demeanor. Tears started pouring from her eyes, and her knees gave out from underneath her. The gun dropped on the floor with a smack, and Angela kicked it under a table, where Sokolov and Ricci could not reach it.“Tell me what’s going on,” Angela said, and she dropped the muzzle of the gun to the floor.“Sparrow to Mercy. Please update your situation, doctor,” Genji wasn’t requesting, he was begging.Angela sighed and said, “Mercy to Sparrow. I’m sorry, I was trying to calm down Dr. Ricci. She shot Sokolov. I’m not sure why. Keep listening, okay?”“You bitch,” gurgled Sokolov on the floor. “You’re still bugged.”Glowering, Angela spat, “And if you’ve any sense, you’ll keep quiet. There are two women in this room who aren’t afraid to shoot you. Think about that.”While Angela crouched down to sit beside Dr. Ricci, she heard more of Genji mumbling in Japanese. She smiled out of habit; his native language brought her comfort, and it was far more pleasing on the ears then her German.“Dr. Ricci, what’s happening. Tell me. Why is Sokolov working for Talon?”Ricci didn’t answer right away. Her moon-like eyes were drilling holes into the tiled floor, and her hyperventilating was so intense that Angela was afraid that she would swoon from lack of oxygen. Gradually, Dr. Zeigler placed a tender hand on her back, and she talked as gently as she could to coax her fellow doctor.“If we’re going to stop this man, we need to work together. Tell me what’s happened, and how I can fix it.”Ricci looked up to Angela; she was crying without noise, but she managed to croak out a couple of sentences: “He deceived us. We didn’t know! We wanted our research to be something good, not…not this. God, not this…”“What research? Sokolov said this facility isn’t medical?”Ricci shook her head, “That’s half right. We are working on cellular repair. But not to help heal…please, Dr. Zeigler! Sokolov said he would kill me if I betrayed him. He threatened my family! I didn’t want to; please, have mercy on us.”“I’m not going to kill you or anyone else, doctor. But this is now Overwatch business. And they will protect you.”Sobbing then rattled Ricci’s body, and her hands flew to cover her face. As Angela stood back up, she tucked her gun inside her coat and said, “Mercy to Sparrow. Sokolov was intimidating the other doctors into working for Talon. I’m still not sure what’s really going on with this facility, but I intend to find out.”“Sparrow to Mercy. We need a rendezvous point. Captain Amari is bringing the Commander and other Overwatch agents.”Angela walked over to the other side of the room where a large file cabinet hit both floor and ceiling. She started sifting through papers, then said, “That’s a good idea. There’s a lot of information that seems to be in the medical lab that I’m in.”“They’ve shut down the entire facility, doctor. It appears this Sokolov was not only threatening the other doctors, but all the employees of this outpost.”Angela wanted to laugh at the disgust in Genji’s tone when he uttered Sokolov’s name, but she settled for a muted smile. “Then Ricci and I will make sure Sokolov can’t leave the room and meet you there.”“Should I find a way inside, Mercy?” Just as Angela had prepared to tell Genji where to meet, her Ricci’s wild screeching interrupted her plans. Dr. Zeigler whipped her head around, reaching into her coat for the gun. Sokolov had managed to hobble up onto his feet, and he had a strange device in his hand. It was black and small, like some kind of communicator. He tapped the screen of it, and then the lights that had one brightened the room died. The light from the communicator screen was all that was left to stave off the darkness, and it illuminated Sokolov’s baleful grin with a red glow.Angela screamed, “What did you do?!”Genji cried, “What happened?! Mercy?!”Through the pain, Sokolov said, “You’ve…got five minutes, Dr. Zeigler. I hope…you can save everyone in this place…before it explodes....”All she could do was let her mouth fall from the shock. Sokolov gave a wet cackle before he said, “It’s…really a shame. Such a…pretty face. I would have…liked you more as my plaything…than a doctor.”“If you say one more thing, I will shoot this gun,” said Angela, and she tightened her hold on the gun’s grip. Sokolov took two sharp breaths, then replied, “Oh, come now, Angela Zeigler. No more games. With a name like Mercy…you’re far too forgiving. I’m sure…you wanted to save me and bring me to justice, yes?”When she did not respond, Sokolov huffed; Angela guessed that was all he could muster for a laugh. “Dr. Zeigler, your…purity…enraptures me. I want to…taint you so. I’m sad…that my last sight will not be you on your knees…”It was that last phrase that caused the chain reaction. The rage that simmered within Angela Zeigler had started to overflow, and her mind revoked its control of her hands. In one smooth motion, the gun that she had aimed at Sokolov fired, her fingers pulling the trigger of her own volition. Sokolov, Ricci and Genji all shouted as one, then stopped. The only sound after that was the thud of Sokolov’s body hitting the floor. The detonator in his hand tumbled and landed face up right in front of Dr. Ricci. Sokolov’s body, the wounds and blood were all now curtained by the darkness. Angela did not give herself or Ricci the time to falter. She grabbed both the detonator and Ricci, then stormed out of the medical lab.“You…you shot him,” Ricci wailed.“That makes the both of us,” Angela said. Emergency lights lit the floor of the hallway, and she dragged Ricci all the way to the door where they had first come from.“Mercy to Sparrow. Sokolov triggered a bomb. He said five minutes. Where are the other captains?Genji shouted once in Japanese then said, “They are not here yet. You must head towards the entrance, doctor! We can begin evac—““There’s no time,” Angela snapped as she flung the door open to the lobby. Many of the employees were sitting on the furniture with confused and startled expressions. Angela turned to Dr. Ricci and said, “Where are the other doctors?” Ricci said, “In the lab on the other side. I don’t know what they’re doing…but I don’t think that they’ve left yet…anyway, Dr. Zeigler! I have something I need tell you.”Shaking her head, Angela replied, “No, Ricci, you have to get all of these people outside—““No, listen, Dr. Zeigler! I know where the bomb and the schematics are! I think we can…well…I mean I guess we can…”As though the wind was knocked out of her, Angela choked. “…That’s…that’s brilliant, Dr. Ricci! We can disarm the bomb and save everyone!”“Dr. Zeigler, wait,” Genji interrupted. “Let me inside, and you can evacuate with the rest of the civilians. I can disarm the bomb with Dr. Ricci.”“You’re the only one who can lead these people back, Sparrow.”“I cannot let you do this, doctor! Please, reconsider. I am not asking this of you as an Overwatch agent, but as Genji Shimada. I cannot…I cannot…”The strangled replies, as though he was wrestling with his urge to cry, took Angela off guard. She felt everything inside her quiver, and the sensation was new. The bud in her heart had, in such a short time, began to flower. Had she responded what her as her gut told her to, she would have reassured him like a lover, but she knew that it wasn’t the time or place. Feelings could be discussed after business, but if they were all to make it out alive, she would have to work as fast as lightning.“I won’t die, and you know that. If I need you, I will call for you. And I expect you to come running, of course. I…want to protect you, too…”That was as much as she’d let herself say. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dr. Ricci raise her eyebrows, so she hurriedly added, “Keep listening as we go. I’ll update you to everything that happens.”There was a pregnant pause, then Genji said, “Very well, doctor. But if I feel the need, I will come for you.”Hearing him say such sweet words made Angela want to respond in kind, but she held her tongue. Instead, she seized Ricci by the wrist and asked, “Where is the bomb and the schematics, Dr. Ricci?”“Well…you see…it’s actually with the other doctors…”Angela balked for only a second, then she said, “Lead on. Hurry.”Ricci darted towards the door on the other side of the reception desk that they did not enter, and Angela followed. The hallway, like it’s pair, had a lit floor, and they followed it to a door at the opposite end. The difference her was that another door was at the back of the hall that read “Utilities” on the front. Ricci unlocked the lab door with a keycard, then they walked through. The other doctors were sitting around a dark green duffle bag. What was more shocking were the bodies that were sprawled on the floor in pools of sticky blood. Of the doctors that she had met not long ago, only three remained alive. Both Japanese doctors were dead, as well as the French. Only the Brazilian and Russian doctors were left alive.Ricci keep her head stiffly facing her living comrades, but Angela didn’t want to stay quiet. She asked, “How did this happen? Are they dead?”The phrase must have frightened Genji; he asked, “Who is dead?”Angela replied, “Three of the doctors are dead here. But we’ve definitely found the bomb.”The living doctors began looking around, but Ricci informed them that Angela had been bugged by Overwatch. Relief flooded their faces. “They were loyal to Sokolov,” said the Brazilian doctor. “Ricci and the rest of us…we did it.”Ricci gestured and said, “I’m sure you remember Dr. Katina, Dr. Orlova and Dr. Santos.”“Oh, yes, of course,” Angela lied through her teeth. But she and the doctors exchanged curt pleasantries before Ricci moved to stand over the table with the rest of them.“This is the bomb,” Ricci said. She unzipped the bag and removed a black square box; Angela estimated it was about the size of her own head. Ricci and one of the Russian doctors worked on carefully prying off the lid, exposing the bombs wired guts. Angela rubbed both her temples. She couldn’t make heads or tails of what was going on; she recognized the two brown boxes in the middle that read “C4”, but the myriad of colored wires gave her vertigo. It was all she could do to not let the fear of the descending clock numbers make her ill.The Brazilian doctor moved beside Ricci and pulled out a large white paper from her lab coat, along with a pair of medical scissors.“I’m guessing Sokolov’s loyalists had the blueprints,” Angela mused aloud.“Correct,” said Dr. Katina. “He taught some of us how to diffuse it in case something went awry,” said Dr. Santos. “I’m just lucky that I paid attention.”All Angela could do was nod and scratch her head. If the doctors knew what to do, she felt it was best to leave it to them. Ricci and Dr. Santos lead the project, while the Russian Katina and Orlova acted as their assistants. All Angela could do was watch as three minutes became two, then two becoming one.Once the one minute mark was reached, Dr. Santos wiped her brow and said, “We’ve got this. One more wire left, and—“The sound of a gunshot cut everything else off. Dr. Ricci’s body jerked backward, then plummeted downward, streaks of the blood that had burst from her painting the white of the walls. Smoke tapered out from the small pistol in Dr. Orlova’s hand, and Angela’s mouth let out an unbidden scream. Fumbling for the gun in her pocket, she found it was far too late. Orlova’s gun rested on her and fired.Angela allowed herself to make peace with God as she waited for the bullet to pierce her heart, but instead she felt something hard force its way into the muscle of her thigh. The pain made her groan and sent her down light Ricci, but she could still feel her lungs taking in air, her heart still pumping blood to her veins.Genji had heard the altercation, and was roaring in her ear, but the pain of the bullet that had pierced her leg made it all sound like a discordant ring. She opened her eyes to see Santos and Katina tackling Orlova, both reaching for the gun, but more shots rang out. Orlova had shot poor Santos right between the eyes; there was nothing she could do.With the last of her strength, Angela pulled the gun she had taken from Sokolov out of her coat and pointed it at the tumbling mass that was Katina and Orlova. The latter had managed to shove the other off, and Angela took that chance to fire. The bullet pierced her back, and blood leisurely blossomed across Orlova’s white coat.Katina scrambled to her feat, but the sight of the blood and the gunshots and the dead bodies must have been too much for her. Katina’s brown eyes rolled to the back of her head, only the whites and the red veins visible; her body went limp just like the rest.Gritting her teeth, Mercy forced herself to stand. Pain wormed its way to every corner of her muscle and bone, but she refused to obey her body’s demands. As carefully as she could, she took the bag and looked towards Dr. Ricci. Blood had inundated all her clothes; there was too much for her to have survived. Angela let tears fall in mourning of her, but she didn’t feel her stomach lurch until she saw the schematics for the bomb.The white paper had been completely consumed by the blood from the diverse doctors, and the prints were completely illegible. A bitter laugh erupted from Angela’s throat, and she grabbed the bag, taking one slow step at a time out of the laboratory.She used the free had she had to open the door to the utility closet and she shut it behind her. The room was pitch black, save for the angry red numbers counting down her moments left to live. There was just enough light to where she could see the wires that Santos and Ricci had cut Most of them were fragmented, but two solitary wires, one green and one red, remained unbroken. Peering as deeply as the dim light would allow, Angela saw that the medical scissors were in the bag as well.Closing her eyes, she rested her hot face on the cool wall and let out a breath. The silence was as lethal as the bomb in her lap, but she couldn’t find it in her to make noise. Often, she had thought what the last sound she would hear might be, what the last face she would see might look like. What here last words to impart would mean. But the defeat that had encompassed her took all desire for contemplation with it. She would die with a plethora of regrets, but she could not change her fate. The last thing she would ever live to see would be the sound of an explosion taking this building and everyone in it to the afterlife.And then, she heard it. Deep and soothing, the balm she had sought to spirit her away from the misery of her last moments. Something she believed she would never hear, especially not at her deathbed.“Angela,” Genji’s voice came in through her ear.“Genji,” she half said, half sobbed. “You’re here.”“I am. You cannot see me, but I am on the other side of this wall.”Angela twisted her body so that her back was pressed against the pane that separated the two of them. Though most of it was cold, she could feel heat warming her back, bringing focus back to her mind. She knew it was too thick for it to be Genji’s warmth, but she wanted to believe it more than anything.“Why are you here? How do you know where I am?”“I used my visor to track you. Once I heard you scream, I turned back. I said I would come for you, and I meant it.”“Is everyone out?”“Yes. But, please, tell me what made all that noise. I heard gunshots, so I am assuming most everyone else is dead.”“Most everyone is, yes. One of the doctors started shooting. I guess they were still loyal to Sokolov, too. One of them just fainted, but…I suppose we’re all dead now.”“Are you unharmed?”Placing a hand near the tacky blood on her leg, Angela said, “Well…there’s no point in lying, I guess. I’ve been shot in the thigh. It’s not fatal, but it hurts like hell.”“…Is the one who shot you dead.”“I hope so. I shot them.”Genji’s voice was unsympathetic as he said, “Good.”“Genji…”He stopped her by saying, “Let us talk of something else, shall we?”“Why are you here? You should leave. I don’t want you to die. You still have to finish helping Overwatch defeat the Shimada.”Genji chuckled lowly and said, “Oh, I have much faith in the power to crush the Shimada. I have done enough. In any case…it would be pointless…if you were not with me to see it.”The heat from the wall expanded, and so did the joy she felt from Genji’s words. Despite the two of them facing death, she hoped that he was smiling just like he was. “…Say…Genji?”“Yes, Angela?”“There’s only two wires left. One of them has to disarm this bomb.”There was a crackle over the mic, then Genji said, “Do you want to cut a wire?”“I don’t know…I’m…I’m afraid to die, Genji.”“Feel no shame, Dr. Zeigler. This fear is common; I have it as well.”“Why, then, are you here?”Genji said slowly, “Because I am more afraid of living in a world without you in it than anything death can bring. I have a sworn oath. Your fate and mine will forever be intertwined. I know this to be true.”Tears streamed down Angela’s face. For her last moments, she allowed her strength to deflate. “Why. Why are you like this, Genji? Why is it that you make my heart feel this way? I want to believe what you’re saying…”“Nothing can stop you, Angela. Open your heart and allow it to embrace what you feel. That is what I have done, and I can say from experience it is truly freeing.”“Then…can I ask you something?”“Ask the world of me, and I will give it to you.”“What makes you say…that our fates are intertwined?”“…In my country, we have a…what would you call it. A saying? A superstition? We believe…that those with shared destinies are bound together by a red thread. We depict it tied around the smallest finger.”Angela cast her eyes towards the beeping bomb. The numbers told her she had forty seconds left, and her choice was between a green wire…and a red one. “A red thread,” she said aloud.“Yes. And so, if you’re fate is to die here today, then so shall mine. My only regret is that I could not help you live. But if you are set to walk into darkness, then I will walk there with you, hand in hand.”Letting more tears fall, Angela pulled the medical scissors out from the bag, and she kept her eyes on the red wire.“Genji…one of the wires I have to cut…it’s red.”“How ironic.”“I…I think it’s ours. It’s our thread of fate, like you said.”“Right you must be. It ties us here together now.”Opening and closing the scissors once, Angela said in a voice barely above a whisper, “I’m going to cut it.”Genji said forcefully, “What do you mean?”“I’m going to cut our red string, Genji. If this is it, then I can decide our destiny today. We can live together, or die together. This will decide it.” There was another pause on his end, but Genji’s voice came in strong and sure. “Very well, Angela. I leave it in your hands. Lead us down the road we will walk for the rest of eternity. I go happily with you beside me.”“…Don’t you have regrets, though, Genji?”“…No. I am here with you. I will die with you. There is no greater honor for me.“Then…I’m going to do it.”The final thing Angela heard from Genji was: “Go. I am here”; the rest of it was unintelligible Japanese, but Angela didn’t mind. She allowed herself to take in two deep breaths. The number twenty glared back at her from the bomb, but Angela stared it down without fear. Though Genji’s body was not beside her, she felt his presence like an ethereal flicker beside her. In her mind’s eye, she felt his hand over hers as she slipped the blades of the scissors underneath the red wire, and he helped force her to press down to sever the connection. 19 18 17 And then, nothing. The number 17 stayed motionless before her eyes, and Angela took a moment to process what was happening. She didn’t speak for a long time; she counted down the seconds remaining after the number seventeen. As she came to zero, there was nothing. Just her, the dark room, blood from her gunshot, a bullet in her leg, and a bomb with a timer stuck on one number.Angela and cut the red thread that had bound both herself and Genji to death.In the smallest voice she had, Angela said, “It…stopped…”Over the mic, she heard Genji bellow, “What did you say?!”Through her sobbing, Angela said, “The bomb stopped, Genji. The timer stopped. I cut the wire. It stopped. My, God.”“Sparrow to Horus. Mercy and the doctors have successfully disarmed the bomb. She has been injured. No hostiles. I repeat: Mercy is down and there are no hostiles.”The sound of encroaching freedom was enough to make the tears from Angela come faster and harder. She wept for the doctors who had died needlessly. She wept for the Talon agents who she had been forced to shoot. She wept for Dr. Ricci, who had been so kind to her. She wept for Genji, who had stared down the fires of hell to help take away her loneliness. She wept from the bliss of another chance to live.And she wept for her own heart, for the clandestine blossom that she now carried within her chest; the truth of what she had been feeling this entire time.Somehow along the extraordinary road that life had taken her, Angela had fallen in love with Genji Shimada.~~~“That was certainly one of the worst days of my life,” Genji sighed and let his body sink into Angela’s soft leather chair.“Oh, you and me both,” Angela said, rubbing the scar left by the bullet on her leg.She popped another creamy chocolate into her mouth, then gestured to the box. “Help me eat these, Genji, please. I’ll eat the whole box, and that will be awful for me.”At Angela’s request, Genji complied. He chewed one quickly, then said, “I must say, I am glad you convinced Jack and Reyes to pardon Dr. Ricci.”Angela nodded and replied, “Considering she manages to escape a bullet to the chest with a long hospital stay, I think she deserved another chance. She and that Dr. Katina were the only survivors, anyway.”“It was a guilty pleasure of mine to watch you stand up to Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes.”“They were good men, rest their souls. But sometimes they needed a reality check…”Angela reached for another chocolate, but she found that Genji and reached for the same peace. Their hands brushed slightly, and she looked up at him. His face was weakly pink, but the smiled pleasantly and gestured to the candy with his chin. It took her a minute to comply, as he scrutinized the lines on his face. Though he appeared older, not much about his skin had changed. Faded scars, light facial hair. She pushed her lips to the side and then said, “Well, let’s share it.”In one smooth motion, Angela plucked it out of the box and broke it in half, the gooey center dribbling out from both remaining pieces. While she did so, she murmured, “With the dancing…it was the same for me at that moment.”Genji tilted his head quizzically then said, “Meaning?”She placed one of the halves back into the box, then stared at her own peace while saying, “You knew how you felt about me at the Gala. For me, it’s when you stayed at that moment. It was when you said that you would give me the world if I asked for it.”When Angela looked to Genji, his eyes were blazing with passion and resolve. “I meant every word,” he said.An awkward silence, as well as a fiery tension, hung in the air between them. It seemed every time they started to talk about what happened, they were both too hesitant to say their minds. Angela wanted to tell him that nothing had changed, but the fear of making him leave delayed her. She only had to believe that he felt the same way; if only there was a way to test it.Genji asked suddenly, “Would you like to share another with me?”“Oh, sure, yes.”Picking out a solid piece of chocolate, he moved to sit beside her instead of across. The proximity made Angela’s hands clammy, but not from distress. He held the peace up and said, “Do you remember…the last time we shared chocolates like this?”Angela paused and searched her memories. When she recovered it, she immediately blushed. It was that moment that had transformed everything between them. What had been their relationship had terraformed their entire lives, and it was something that she knew they had both welcomed with open arms. Each moment she recalled made her ache with a desire to return to it. Their first date, their first time.Lethargically, Genji stuck on end of the chocolate in his mouth, then inclined his head towards hers.Like so many times before, Angela’s mind let her body have free reign. And while she lost herself in memories, she bit the exposed piece of chocolate, and felt Genji’s lips graze hers.
10687416	Just A Touch	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles", "Fandom": "Supernatural RPF", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by thorkiship18", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-21T00:00:00", "words": "1,527", "Additional Tags": "Top Jensen Ackles, Bottom Jared Padalecki, Phone Sex, Dirty Talk, Sexting, Nude Photos, Light Angst, Masturbation, Come Eating, Dick Pics, What Was I Thinking?, What Have I Done, Porn with Feelings, Sex Toys, Vibrators, Daddy Kink, Ass Play, Husbands", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles & Jared Padalecki", "Series": "One-Shots", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	It's boring.Up here.In the snow.Alone.Fuckin' Jensen. Jared understands that he has a new batch of kids to tend to (Thanks a lot, Danneel) but he misses his long time lover immensely. That's his true other half. His "soulmate", as some would say out there. Yeah, he reads what people say about them. He doesn't say anything about it, but he notices.Though that doesn't matter at this point. Jensen's gone, and Jared's up here filming for scenes that do not include him. He hasn't heard from him in an hour. Probably doting over the twins and JJ to really check his messages. Jensen's a great dad, terrific even. He's already amazing with JJ and the boys already, so Arrow and Zepp will be no problem.Soon, Jared enters his trailer. Well, their trailer. It's a PR thing. Rediculous. Jared still thinks they should've come out in the beginning, but the showrunners claimed they'd jeopardize the show and whatnot. Oh well.As he flops down onto the couch in the trailer, Jared's phone chimes, alerting him of a new message. Excited, he reaches into his pocket to get it out. He fumbles with the device, eager to see just who it is. When he gazes up the name, his heart swells and he grins wide. It's a message from Jensen. Sorry, I was a little occupied. What's up? Jared licks his lips, fingers dashing across the phone's keypad at lightning speed. Oh, nothing much. Just bored out of my fucking mind here with nothing to do. Misha's driving me nuts, and it's so cold without you. He waits impatiently for a few minutes before his cell chimes again. A big sasquatch like you cold without me? Not surprising. For what it's worth, I do miss you, babe. Babe.Jared blushes madly at the word. He can just envision Jensen saying it to his face right now. His husky voice against his neck. His breath tickling his bare skin. His hands roaming his body. His tongue sliding down his neck, past his nipples to his navel, and all the way down to his hard--Fuck.Now he's erect. Like rock solid. Full mast. The whole shebang. It's been awhile since he's jerked off. Jared looks down at his jeans to see that his dick is making a distinct, hard outline. Dammit. This is all Jensen's fault one way or another. Jared palms at his groin, moaning through his slightly parted lips. He unzips his fly, and takes out his dick.That's when he gets an idea.He snaps a quick pic of it, and puts it in a message. Thinking about you. I want you so bad. Jared presses send without thinking. He's always been this way towards Jensen. Bold. Brazzen. He just has this effect on him that he can't really describe. Jared soon starts touching himself slowly, just working the head of his cock a bit. That's his sweet spot.Jensen knows it. He teases there any chance he gets when they're alone. Fuck, he wants him here so bad. The memories of the dirty things they do to each other in this very trailer fill up in his mind, making for great visuals.The time he convinced Jensen to try out the double sided dildo.The day Jensen used a remote controlled vibrator on him while they were shooting.The day Jensen came inside of him, and he was made to walk around with the cum still up there.God!The phone chimes again; Jared unlocks it, and reads the message. Fuck, Jay! You're driving me crazy. You want me to take care of you, baby? You miss this dick? I really do. You free? Yeah. Hang tight. Jared does just that, but not before he starts to undress himself. He shucks off his shoes, and takes off his boxer briefs and jeans fully, leaving on his light brown shirt. He lays back down onto the couch, reaching for a special bottle of lube he keeps for him and Jensen. That might come in handy later.His mind suddenly drifts off to a few weeks ago back on set. He and Jensen just finished filming a tough scene, and everyone was distracted with other things. Jensen winked at him, and lead them to a dark corner. That was the very first time they fucked on set, almost in front of everyone. It was risky, but goddammit, it was so fucking hot!Again, the phone makes a sound, sparking Jared's attention. Look what you did, Jay. You made me very happy. I wanna taste you so bad right now. It's more than a message. It's a picture of Jensen's cock. It's also erect, and poking out of his pants. He must've locked himself in one of the rooms in the house so he could have some privacy. Danneel is a strong woman. She can handle the kids for a bit.The sight of his man's huge prick causes Jared to shudder in excitement. He might not have him here right now, but it feels damn good to see it again. He longs to reach out and lick it, to kiss and tease the head and the underside of his massive tool. Jensen is built, that much Jared can admit.Without further ado, Jared takes his phone, spreads his legs wider, and takes a quick picture of his hole. That should get Jensen all riled up. This part of me wants to be tasted first. I miss my Daddy. Jared doesn't know when it started, but he's taken to calling Jensen his Daddy in private, away from prying eyes and ears. Jensen didn't correct him the first time, he didn't even blink. He played along, and that lead to some really hot, dirty, kinky sex between the two of them.Jensen replies back with another dick pic. It seems he's on the bed now, completely naked from head to toe. Damn. Daddy misses you too. Why don't you get the toy, and I call you for a bit of fun? Fuuuuuuuuuck!Jensen Ross Ackles is gonna be the death of him, he swears. Yes, Daddy. He wastes no time in grabbing the things he needs to get to where he needs to go. Mhm, he can practically blow his load right here. Jared's so excited as he takes out the hefty vibrator, all black. He uncaps the bottle of lube and starts slicking up both his hole and the toy he'll be using.Once it's all set, he texts Jensen, telling him to call. Then he inserts the object and turns it on. The movement inside of Jared makes him jump! Like a shockwave resonating inside of his very being. He moans loud, not having experienced this pleasure in quite some time. The phone rings, and he answers it without thinking, putting it between his shoulder and head."H--Hello?" He gasps. "Mmm. That's my boy. Getting ready for me. I missed hearing you. How do you feel?" Jensen's voice makes him melt completely as if he's really here, talking dirty in his ear. "I wish it was you inside me, Daddy. I want you to fuck me." "I wish I was there. I'd have you begging me not to stop. God, I wanna feel you. I wanna caress your skin as you hop up and down on my cock." Shit! Those words go straight to Jared's dick, and a few drops of precum drip down the shaft in response. He takes some lube, and coats his members with it, making whorish noises as he twists the head of his cock and the bottom of the vibrator."Jen, please." He whispers. "Please what, Baby? What do want from me? Tell me." "Get back here. Come back, and fuck me. Fuck me! Fuck me, Daddy, please!" "Fuck, Jay, Daddy's gonna fly up there as soon as possible so he can fuck the shit outta you." "I'm--Oh, shit! I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum!" "Me too, Baby! Oh, FUUUUUUCK!" In no time, Jared grunts, and he explodes all over his hand and shirt. Hell, some of it even gets onto his face, splattered across his nose and cheeks. On the other end of the line, he can hear Jensen groaning through his own orgasm. God, it feels so good to let it all out. Jared shivers through the aftershocks; his prostate is being overstimulated by the vibrations.As he reaches to turn it off, he listens to Jensen's post-sex voice. Raspy and rough. "Eat it. Send me a pic." After hearing those words, Jensen hangs up. Jared smirks, knowing what he has to do. When he gains the strength to move, he scoops up a few drops of cum from his shirt, and sucks on his fingers, posing for the camera. He still hasn't cleaned up his face yet. He gets a response not even after half a minute of sending the pic. Goddamn. You are something special. I'll talk to you tonight, and I'll DEFINITELY see you tomorrow. Love you. Jared collapses onto the couch, grinning like the cat that got into the cream.
10688802	BDSM Prompt Party 2017	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": null, "Fandom": null, "Language": "Polski", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by euphoria814", "chapters": "2/2", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-21T00:00:00", "words": "158", "Additional Tags": "BDSM Prompt Party, BDSM Prompt Party 2017, prompty, prompty tak bardzo, akcja, Light BDSM, Alternate Universe - BDSM", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Ogłoszenia Dusz Fandomowych Pasterskie", "Collections": "BDSM Prompt Party 2017", "Fandoms": "Teen Wolf (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Pacific Rim (Movies), Supernatural, No Fandom, Hawaii Five-0 (2010), Stargate Atlantis", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	BDSM Prompt Party wita radośnie i zachęca do zagłębienia się w mrocznym świecie balansu władzy i bólu... Niezależnie od tego jaki fandom reprezentujecie, co jest waszym OTP, BDSM Prompt Party przyjmie was z otwartymi rękami :) Od 1 maja przez całe siedem dni oddamy się grzesznym przyjemnościom zaprawionych bólem i ekscytacją... BDSM PP 2017 ... co nie znaczy, że pozbawionym humoru ;) Została utworzona specjalna kolekcja, gdzie możecie dodawać swoje teksty i podejmować oraz dodawać własne prompty. BDSM PP 2017 Zapraszamy!!! ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Prompty! Prompty! Na dobry początek garść akcji, do których można się dołączyć i nie kolidują z Tygodniem. Multifandom Bingo 2017 Weekendowe Drabble Polska Femslash Party - impreza, która nigdy się nie kończy Tydzień to dobry czas również, aby zacząć:100 drabbli w 100 dni - prompty wiszą w dziale Rules Jeśli ktoś ma pomysł na tekst, ale nie jest w stanie z jakiegoś powodu go wykorzystać, prompty można podrzucać do tej kolekcji: Prompty Polska lub po prostu w komentarzu pod tym postem.
10686177	The Grumpy Hufflepuff	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Laura Hale", "Fandom": "Teen Wolf (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Nerdy_fangirl_57", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-05-01T00:00:00", "words": "1,856", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Slytherin Stiles Stilinski, Hufflepuff Derek, Getting Together, Cold Weather, Scarves, Awesome Laura Hale, Grumpy Derek Hale, POV Derek, Blushing, Fluff", "Relationship": "Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Sterek Bingo '17", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Derek was going to kill Laura.She knows how much he hates the cold and yet she decides to be the biggest jerk to ever live and hide his scarf when she knew it was going to snow the next day.So, yeah, it’s no wonder that Derek feels more pissed off than usual which seems to have scared the hell out of some first years in his house this morning when he woke up.Derek still doesn’t understand why people are so shocked when they realize he’s a Hufflepuff, it’s not like being cheerful and happy all the time is a requirement to get sorted into Hufflepuff, just because he’s not smiling 24/7 doesn’t mean he’s any less of a Hufflepuff.He just doesn’t like people.Especially Laura. She’s the worst.When Derek arrived to his potions class he was in a particularly bad mood after having to get snow out of his eyebrows, so to make matters even worse, Stiles thought it would be a good idea to sit next to Derek today.It’s not like the thought of Stiles sitting next to him in potions upset Derek, he always enjoys when the talkative Slytherin spends time with him.They’ve had at least one class together since they were 1st years and Derek would be lying if he said he didn’t find the Slytherin utterly adorable with his constant chatter and spastic flailing accompanied by dazzling whiskey colored eyes and a mischievous smirk that does not make Derek’s heart pound whenever he sees it.Not that the Hufflepuff would ever let anyone know of his feelings for Stiles. It would be a complete disaster if Laura ever found out about his little crush on the Slytherin, besides, it’s not like Stiles would ever return his feelings.Surely the young wizard was just talking to Derek during some of the classes they had together out of pity.“Hey sourwolf! Congrats on looking grumpier than usual, I didn’t think that was possible.” Stiles joked with a carefree smile on his face.Derek’s face stayed blank. “It’s cold.”“Well you’re bundled up pretty nicely. The only thing missing is a scarf to complete the ‘I hate winter’ look you’re clearly going for.”“Laura hid my scarf.” The Hufflepuff grumbled.Stiles blinks for a moment. “Why would she do that?”Derek scowls at the thought of his older sister. “She’s mean.”Stiles loses it as he starts laughing hysterically in the middle of class until he is driven to the point of tears.Derek doesn’t really understand what was so funny but he finds it impossible to resist the urge to smile when Stiles is laughing so gleefully right beside him.When class ended and it was time to leave to their other scheduled class Derek couldn’t help but scowl at the snow outside. It was somehow colder than it was in the morning and Derek did not appreciate it.It should be illegal to hide someone’s scarf.He’s so focused on trying to make the snow melt under his intense gaze that he doesn’t even notice Stiles coming from behind him until the young wizard is wrapping something around his neck.Derek looks down to find a Slytherin scarf wrapped cozily around his very cold neck and turns back only to come face to face with a smiling Stiles.“Since you seem so upset about your scarf I figured you could use mine as a substitute.” The Slytherin gives him a brief once over. “Green is a good color on you actually. It brings out your eyes.”And with that the speckled beauty walked down the corridor to his next class, leaving a speechless Derek in his wake.If the Hufflepuff spent the rest of the day with his nose buried in the soft fabric of the scarf just to keep smelling the scent of Stiles that lingered, it was nobody’s business but his own.Within him taking only a handful of steps into the dining hall Laura was plastered by his side with an all too knowing gleam in her eyes.He should have known better than to walk in with a Slytherin scarf around his neck.“So,” she said, going for innocent but missing by a mile, “where’d you get that scarf Der-bear?”Derek shrugged. “Someone.”The Gryffindor hummed. “And does this someone have a name?”“Not one I’d ever tell you.”Laura smirked. “It’s Stilinski’s isn’t it.”Derek didn’t say anything. No matter what he said Laura would use it as ammunition.Her smirk only grew as his silence dragged on. “You’re adorable you know? Acting all big and bad when you’re really nothing but a big teddy bear crushing on the Slytherin Prince.”The Hufflepuff scowled and ignored her for the rest of the day. She reached new levels of annoying to try to get his attention but Derek persevered and managed to refrain from acknowledging her existence.The next day he went up to Stiles with the intention of returning his scarf even though Derek wanted to keep it more than anything. Stiles just let him borrow it yesterday because he was complaining during class about it being cold, he probably wants his scarf back now that Derek found his.The Slytherin smiled when he caught sight of Derek. “Hi sourwolf! To what do I owe this pleasure?”Derek tried not to stare at the dazzling smile on the other wizard’s face for too long. “Here.” Derek said while thrusting the Slytherin scarf into Stiles’ face.The young wizard scrunched up his face in confusion. “Dude, you can keep it. I wasn’t expecting you to give it back.”“But it’s your only scarf.”Stiles simply shrugged. “I can always get another one.”Before Derek knew what he was doing, he found himself taking off his own scarf and wrapping it around Stiles.“Then keep mine.”The Slytherin blinked, looking at a complete loss, before a light blush dusted his cheeks and a shy smile tugged on his lips.Derek was surprised the other boy didn’t just tell him no and give the scarf back to him, instead, Stiles ducked his head and mumbled a small ‘thank you’ under his breath.The Hufflepuff felt the tips of his ears burn at the sight before him before allowing a faint ‘you’re welcome’ to slip his lips as he left to take his seat.Him and Stiles wear each other’s scarves every day after that. They never talk about it and everything between them seems to have gone back to normal with the exception of a few more hidden glances added into the mix.The one thing that has changed has been the way the other students perceive them. Apparently everyone thinks they’re dating now and it annoys Derek to no end.Not because he doesn’t want to date Stiles but because of how adorable everyone thinks it is.People just can’t stop talking about how the cute Hufflepuff that glares at everyone and looks like he’s constantly contemplating murder got with the trickster Slytherin that talks too much and knows how to best piss off every member of the Hogwarts staff without ever actually getting in trouble.Derek isn’t cute okay? He just isn’t. If anyone is cute in their so called relationship it’s Stiles.The Slytherin casts the Serpensortia Spell just to play with the little snakes he creates and calls them his ‘wittle sneks’ and if that isn’t the definition of adorable Derek doesn’t know what is.It’s a few days later when Stiles sits next to him in potions again.“I’m so sorry.”Derek blinks. Stiles has never apologized for sitting next to him before, he just, did it.“For what?” The Hufflepuff inquires.Stiles’ face turns red. “People have been… well I guess… Okay so there’s a rumor going around that we’re together and everyone believes it.”Derek rolls his eyes. “I know that.”“I swear I didn’t- wait… you know?”The wizard simply nods.Stiles blinked owlishly. “And you’re not upset by this?”“No.” Derek stated. “Uh, are you?”“What? No of course not! If anything I just wish it wasn’t just a rumor.”Stiles seemed to have realized what came out of his mouth because he flails so hard he almost slaps Derek in the face and his mouth falls open as if he wants to say something but can’t finding the right words.“Bloody hell! I didn’t mean that- well, I did mean that but I know you don’t want to do anything of the sort with me and that’s completely okay! I just let my mouth get away from me, you know, dysfunctional brain-to-mouth filter and all that. You can forget I said any of that, in fact, I’ll forget I said any of that. Now it’s forgotten, see? It’s so forgotten I don’t even know what we’re talking about right now. Hi Derek how are you? Do you remember what we were talking about just now? Because I sure as hell don’t.”The Hufflepuff couldn’t help it, he laughed, causing Stiles’ lips to turn downward in a slight pout that should not be as adorable as Derek thinks it is.“I’m sorry,” Derek says in between soft chuckles, “it’s just I’ve never seen you so flustered before. It’s cute.”“Cute?” The Slytherin asks, looking dumbfounded. “I am a Slytherin, I am not cute. I’m offended you would even think that.”Derek shrugs. “I’ve always thought you were cute.”Wait.Oh no.Stiles looks up at him at that, blinking continuously as if making sure he was actually experiencing this. “You… you think I’m cute?”Derek is about to take it back, say he didn’t mean it like that, but then he looks at Stiles and finds huge whiskey colored eyes staring back at him with wonder and what appears to be hope shinning inside them.The Hufflepuff finds himself nodding slowly, his face heating up the longer those gorgeous eyes look at him, and can’t help the way his heart skips a beat when a brilliant smile lights up Stiles’ face.A moment passes before the Slytherin whispers, “I think you’re cute too.”Derek wishes he could say his smile was as blinding as Stiles’ but it was small and shy, nothing more than a slight tug of lips.Stiles didn’t seem to mind though, his smile widen more, which Derek could have sworn was impossible.“So, uh,” Stiles starts nervously, “you want to, maybe, go on a date sometime?”“Yeah, yeah I’d… I’d like that.”Maybe he should be embarrassed by how breathless his voice sounded in that moment but Derek couldn’t care less, not when Stiles is looking at him like he’s the most amazing thing in the world.After a moment of hesitation, Derek holds his hand out to Stiles, butterflies swarming his stomach when the Slytherin interlaced their fingers together and let Derek lead them down the corridor.When the wind picked up Stiles huddled closer to Derek until the Slytherin was nearly glued to the other wizard’s side.Maybe the cold wasn’t as bad as Derek originally thought.
10661343	Timeless Love	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Son Hyunwoo \| Shownu, Shin Hoseok \| Wonho, Lee Minhyuk (Monsta X), Yoo Kihyun, Chae Hyungwon, Lee Jooheon, Lim Changkyun \| I.M", "Fandom": "Monsta X (Band)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by ReeLeeV", "chapters": "4/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-18T00:00:00", "words": "3,488", "Additional Tags": "Fluff, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Soulmates", "Relationship": "Son Hyunwoo \| Shownu/Yoo Kihyun", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Soul Mate Series", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	He remembers the older talking about his past family. He couldn’t deny the twinge of… something within him at hearing about it. It wasn't exactly jealousy, though he knows that’s what anyone would insist it was if he tells someone. Especially Minhyuk. But, he knows what jealousy feels like, and that wasn’t what it was. It was more like… familiarity? But, why would Hyunwoo’s past life feel familiar to him? ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Kihyun glances over at their leader, unable to shake the remnants of surprise within him. Hyunwoo had been so close to crying only half an hour ago. Jooheon had cried, full-out bawled tears of pain and sorrow, only a bit less recently than Hyunwoo’s near breakdown. How could they both be so calm after such an obviously gut-wrenching experience?“I wonder what I was like in my past life,” Minhyuk muses aloud. He pulls Jooheon closer to his side in an effort to comfort the rapper. Kihyun hums his agreement, slipping his hand into Hyunwoo’s. Hyunwoo grips onto the younger’s fingers tightly, as if the vocalist is the only thing keeping him grounded in this moment.“The car won’t be here for another hour,” their manager announces, sighing as he puts away his phone. The group nods, all dispersing throughout the small room to sit down. Kihyun leans against Hyunwoo, closing his eyes in contentment as he breathes deeply.He can’t get the image of Hyunwoo nearly losing it on camera earlier out of his head. Sure, the camera had caught him laughing amusedly into his hand, but that had only been overcompensation. Inside he was panicking over his boyfriend breaking down in public, and not being able to comfort him. It’s a terrible thing to watch someone you love suffer but being unable to do anything to help.He remembers the older talking about his past family. He couldn’t deny the twinge of… something within him at hearing about it. It wasn't exactly jealousy, though he knows that’s what anyone would insist it was if he tells someone. Especially Minhyuk. But, he knows what jealousy feels like, and that wasn’t what it was. It was more like… familiarity? But, why would Hyunwoo’s past life feel familiar to him?“Could you hypnotize me?” Kihyun finds himself asking, turning towards the hypnotist. Everyone glances over at him surprisedly, unsure they had heard him correctly. “I know that you said I wasn’t really susceptible to it,” he continues, “but is there a way that you can make me experience a past life anyway? I’m curious.”“As long as you’re willing,” the middle-aged man says, “then I can. Go ahead and sit down in the chair.” Kihyun nods, squeezing Hyunwoo’s hand before dropping it. He can feel the older’s gaze on him, silently demanding why he’s suddenly so curious about the past, but doesn’t say anything to him. He only does as he’s told, and closes his eyes.It takes a bit longer for him to start to slip away than he suspects it had taken the others. He’s nervous, though he doesn’t know why. Something in his mind keeps gnawing away at him. Is it… realization? Reconciliation? Kihyun can’t tell, but he knows it began when Hyunwoo went under. He feels it’s connected, and that if he goes into his own past life then maybe it’ll go away. Kihyun feels as if he’s floating, unable to quite remain in one place. He’s vaguely aware of those around him staring down at him with interest. They feel familiar, but at the same time he believes them to be complete strangers. He knows he should be able to tell where he is, but he forgets.“What are you right now?” he hears the therapist ask. Kihyun sighs heavily, the notion of speaking feeling much too strenuous. His throat burns, and it hurts to speak or breathe.“A human,” he mumbles. “I’m… I’m a woman. I’m in my fifties.” Kihyun sighs again, moving his head slightly. He can feel the others snicker around him, but he doesn’t know why.“Do you have a family?” the odd voice asks him.“Ye-yes,” Kihyun answers meekly. “I’ve two sons and a daughter. My husband…” Kihyun’s voice drifts off, and he scowls in thought. “My husband ran off years ago. I consider myself a widow, but I'm not remarried. He was a fighter for the government, so I’ve had the luxury to not have to remarry to support my children.” Hyunwoo watches Kihyun distractedly answer the therapist’s questions. Something about the answers feels familiar, and guilt clogs up his throat. He sees the other’s glance over to him curiously, but he ignores their eyes. He can’t tear his gaze away from the vocalist in the chair.“How old was your husband when he ran off?” the therapist asks, also looking over to Hyunwoo as he speaks.“He…” Kihyun seems to have trouble speaking, a crease forming in his brow. “He was in his thirties when he left us.” Several emotions squeeze themselves tightly around Hyunwoo’s lungs, making it hard to breathe. Kihyun takes a deep breath before adding, “He had some enemies in town, so sometimes I wonder if he wasn't… if he isn’t…”Tears well up and immediately begin to cascade down Kihyun’s cheeks. He releases a shuddering breath, as if trying to calm himself. He swallows thickly, forbidding himself to cry.“It’s okay to cry,” the man tells him, reaching over to pat away the tears with a tissue. “Grieving over a loved one is natural.”“I need to remain strong, for my family,” Kihyun insists. He shifts his entire body, a determined expression set on his face.“How did you die?” the hypnotist asks, continuing down a normal list of questions after allowing Kihyun to recompose himself. Hyunwoo’s heart pounds at hearing this, and he licks his lips nervously. Kihyun begins to tell a story about a fire, waking up in the middle of the night choking on smoke. He, or she, had managed to get the grandkids out in time, who were visiting for a few days, before dying in the flames.This story affects Hyunwoo more than the story of his own past death had. He has to look away from the younger, glaring instead at the floor as he fights back tears. He's vaguely aware of the therapist asking Kihyun similar questions to what he asked Jooheon and himself before, but he can't listen anymore. He mumbles an excuse about going to the bathroom, and leaves without waiting for acknowledgment.He closes the door and stands at the sink, breathing deeply. His body aches as if he's been in a fight, muscles sore and different points of his body feeling as if they're bruising. He gingerly touches his ribs, and is surprised to find they aren't broken. He knows that's ridiculous, because why would they be broken?Hyunwoo shakes his head, sighing at himself. He runs his hands through his hair and stares at his own reflection. He pouts at it, numerous thoughts swirling within him.If he had known this was going to be how today’s recording would be like, he'd have definitely spoken up more against having a hypnotist visit. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The car ride back to the dorm is silent. No one really knows what to say. It had been a bit awkward when Kihyun came out of his trance, the similarities between Hyunwoo’s and his stories unnerving for the other members. Changkyun, in the anxious atmosphere, had instinctively begun to cling to Kihyun, making it impossible for he and Hyunwoo to speak about things. He doesn't usually mind the maknae’s cuddly nature, and even prides himself for being such a source of comfort for the younger, but right now he can't help but be a bit annoyed by it. They reach the dorm and slip their shoes off, shuffling in different directions. Minhyuk glances between Hyunwoo and Kihyun and pulls Changkyun away, nodding shortly at the two as he does so. Kihyun sucks in a breath through his teeth, gesturing towards the kitchen. Hyunwoo hums, and follows the shorter to the other room. Kihyun begins making some tea, if for nothing else than just to have something to do. He feels Hyunwoo's eyes on him, and can almost hear him ripple nervously in the silence. Kihyun finally sits after preparing the beverage, handing Hyunwoo a cup as well. He sips on the tea, nearly burning his tongue but not really caring at the moment. His throat is still a bit sore from when he went under, and the drink is a welcome soother.“That filming was…,” Kihyun pauses, trying to find the right word, “interesting.”“Why did you volunteer to do it, Kihyunnie?” Hyunwoo asks, his brow creased. “You didn't seem all that into the idea in the beginning, but as soon as the cameras are off you’re into it. Why?”“I,” Kihyun begins, patting his lips thoughtfully as he struggles with his wording again. “I don't know, really. Watching your hypnotism, hearing how you described it… It felt familiar, somehow. So, I went under to try and figure out why.” Hyunwoo hums, nodding.“When you were talking about your past life,” he admits, “I felt the same way. I felt connected to the life, even though it wasn't mine.”“I think they're connected,” Kihyun says. Hyunwoo blinks at him questioningly, prompting him to continue. “I mean, why else would we have such reactions? It makes sense.”“Kihyun-ah,” Hyunwoo chuckles disbelievingly, “I've only just begun believing in this whole past life business. Now you're suggesting that we not only knew each other in our past lives, but were married? I'm sorry, but I don't see how that's possible.”“Hyung,” Kihyun sighs, “I've heard about this before. People dying in one life, and finding each other again in the next life. It's what soulmates are.” Hyunwoo blushes at the term, drinking his tea a little too quickly and choking on it. Kihyun throws his head back in a laugh, and stands to pat the older’s back.Unbeknownst to them, Minhyuk is cringing in the other room. He quickly retreats to his bedroom, where he knows the others are awaiting his report. “What're they saying, hyung?” Changkyun asks as soon as Minhyuk enters the small room. Jooheon and Changkyun are on the rapper’s bed, the maknae cuddling into the older’s side. Hyungwon and Hoseok are sitting on Minhyuk's bed, and Minhyuk gestures for them to make room for him to sit before he answers.“Well, Kihyunnie thinks he and Hyunwoo-ya are soulmates now,” Minhyuk tells them, gagging on his own words. “I swear, he's too much of a romantic sometimes.”“Well, it'd make sense,” Hyungwon mumbles, yawning behind a hand as the words leave his lips. “I mean, I've read articles where couples went under hypnosis and discovered they were involved in a past life as well.”“What kind of websites do you go on, Wonnie?” Hoseok asks teasingly. Hyungwon chuckles behind his fingers, lightly swatting at the older. Hoseok makes a pained gasp, earning a roll of eyes from everyone in the room at his dramatic reaction.“Isn't it a bit of a stretch, though?” Jooheon asks thoughtfully. “Neither really gave a lot of details about when in history their past lives lived. They should get more information about it before deciding one way or the other.”“I don't think Hyunwoo-hyung would be willing,” Changkyun points out. “He was in real pain when he was under. Why would he do it again?”“If Kihyun-hyung has his way,” Hyungwon says, “they’ll both be going under again.” “I mean,” Kihyun says after helping Hyunwoo through his coughing fit, “I'm not saying that's definitely the explanation. We don't have enough information to know for sure.” He then pauses, hesitant to ask. Hyunwoo sighs, already knowing what the younger is thinking.“I'm curious,” he relents, “but not that curious. I don't want to experience that pain again.”“And you don't have to!” Kihyun assures him. “Just go with me. I'll go under, but you don't have to. I just… I'll feel better if you're there. Besides, I need someone to listen to what I say, in case I forget anything when I wake up.”Hyunwoo is silent for a long time, sighing heavily as he considers the younger’s request. He dislikes the idea of Kihyun undergoing hypnosis again just as much as he does thinking of himself doing it. However, he’s known Kihyun too long to think he can talk the vocalist out of this. The determined glint in his eyes is about all the leader of MONSTA X needs to see to know he can’t argue Kihyun into changing his mind.“Alright, Kihyunnie,” he relents. “I’ll go with you. We’ll talk to the manager about getting into touch with the therapist from today’s filming for our next free day.” Kihyun hums in acknowledgment, kissing the older on the cheek in thanks.“Thank you, hyung,” he says in a low whisper. “I know how uncomfortable you were during all this, and I’m so grateful you’re willing to be around it all again just for me.”“I’d do anything for you, Kihyunnie,” Hyunwoo mumbles, staring into the younger’s adoring eyes. “You know that.” Kihyun hums again, smiling so wide his dimples come into sight.He then pulls away, moving to go through what food they have in the dorm to see if he can make a dinner out of it. He wants to do something special for Jooheon, considering what he went through hours before. Hyunwoo watches as he opens the fridge, staring at the contents with a focused pout set on his lips, and can’t help but smile. He gets up and washes out the cups they used in the sink, and then joins the younger’s side to help him prepare dinner. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Unfortunately for the main vocalist, he has to wait for the group’s initial three weeks of promotions for their comeback to end before the company bothers to comply with his request. Rumors circulate around the company building that their promotions could be extended, because of how well their title track is doing, and it takes everything Kihyun has to keep himself from marching down to that cursed building. However, luckily for him, Minhyuk is more than happy to do it before Kihyun can even decide whether or not he wants to himself.“You promised them another session with that hypnotist!” Minhyuk argues with one of their managers. Hongsik merely sits by the wall, watching amusedly as the new guy squirms under Minhyuk’s accusatory gaze. He’s learned by now not to mess with Minhyuk when he’s like this. “Make an appointment now, or I’m turning Monbebe on you!”The older man shudders at his words, and quickly nods as he fumbles to get his phone. The managers had been put under strict orders from the CEO to not allow that to happen again. The phone lines and email inboxes had been messy enough when Jooheon’s ab debacle had been revealed during their Fighter promotions.Minhyuk turns away, humming their title track with a smug smirk set on his face. Kihyun chuckles breathily at the site, it coming out in short gasps due to the strenuous dance practice they had just gone through. That had been the whole reason for them to go to the building in the first place, but Minhyuk had somehow turned it into a personal quest. Minhyuk beams over at Kihyun, clapping him on the shoulder.“You should know by now, Kihyun-ah,” he murmurs to the younger, “that whenever you have an issue with the company, I can take care of it.”“Starship didn’t know what they were doing when they slotted you for debut, ahjussi,” Kihyun comments amusedly. Minhyuk laughs brightly at this, unable to argue. He then moves to join Jooheon on the bench, who’s scrolling through comments on the music video. He knows he’ll probably get into trouble later for threatening the managers again, but he doesn’t care. He’d do anything for that short, annoying, nagging main vocalist of theirs. Even if that something is getting him hypnotized into a past life to confirm an outlandish theory like soulmates. “Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Kihyun says gratefully. He busies himself with pouring tea for the older man as he takes a seat on the couch.“I’m honored that you were so interested in the session that you reached out to me,” the hypnotist replies. “Your manager mentioned on the phone that your promotions could be extended, so I figured the sooner we can take care of this, the better.” He pauses before adding, “I assume this is about the similarities in your and Hyunwoo-ya’s past experiences.” Kihyun returns to the living room with two cups in his hands, and he nods to the man.“Has that ever happened for you?” Kihyun asks curiously.“It’s actually more common that you’d think,” he answers. He sips on his tea, glancing around. “I must say, I’m surprised at how well your dorm is kept up. I’ve been in other idols’ homes before for hypnotism, but theirs weren’t nearly as clean as yours.”“I’m sort of the group’s live-in housekeeper,” Kihyun admits. The therapist hums, sipping on his tea again thoughtfully.“So, I guess your past life being a housewife wasn’t that much of a surprise for you,” he murmurs.“Back when we first debuted,” Kihyun says, “other groups and interviewers often asked me if I was a housewife or a musician. So, no, I’m honestly not that surprised by it.” He gulps down some more of the hot beverage, reveling in the calming effect it has. He can’t deny his jittering nerves that begun as soon as the hypnotist knocks on his door. Jooheon hurries through the room, shoving a snapback onto his head.“Jooheonney!” Kihyun calls after him. “Where’s Hyunwoo-ya?”“The bathroom,” Jooheon answers. “Don’t worry, he’s finishing up now so he’ll be in in a second. I’m going to the company building. I probably won’t be back until late.” He then pauses in his rush to shoot the older a smirk. “Have fun, hyung.” Kihyun glares at him in return, eyes cutting at the rapper over the rim of his cup as he takes another drink.“Will Hyunwoo-ssi be undergoing another hypnosis session, as well?” the middle-aged man asks curiously, sounding somewhat surprised.“He’s only going to sit with me,” Kihyun explains. “You know, in case I forget anything I say afterwards.” The therapist hums in understanding, nodding. Kihyun can’t help but glance nervously towards the bathroom, hoping Hyunwoo doesn’t take long. Hyunwoo stands at the sink, staring at his fogged-up reflection in the mirror. He sighs heavily, knowing that the therapist has surely already shown up by now. A part of him wants nothing more than to avoid another hypnotism, no matter if he was actually the one going under or not. He dreads the thought of seeing Kihyun so hurt again, talking about dying in such a detailed way… The thought of it is almost too much for the singer to bear.However, he promised Kihyun he’d be there for him. He takes in a deep, calming breath.It won’t be so bad, he tells himself. He won’t ask about Kihyunnie dying in his past life again, surely. Besides, that isn’t what we’re doing this all for. We’re doing this to find out if we’re soulmates. Hyunwoo chuckles lowly at this, shaking his head at the term.He loves Kihyun, that much he knows for sure. But, soulmates? That idea seems terribly outlandish. Though, if he’s to be completely honest, past lives also seemed pretty impossible until they filmed the No Exit episode. He ‘hmmphs’ amusedly, noting just how much has changed about himself and his beliefs since meeting Yoo Kihyun..., and he honestly couldn’t be happier with it.Hyunwoo finally turns away from the mirror and exits the bathroom. He goes to the living room, meeting Kihyun’s expectant eyes immediately. He can’t help but smile at the sight of the younger on the couch, waiting for him. It isn’t often that Kihyun is waiting for him, so he enjoys the sight while it lasts. He sits beside the younger, and curls his fingers around the main vocalist’s comfortingly.“Hyunwoo-ssi,” the therapist says with a friendly smile, “are you sure you wouldn’t like to be hypnotized again? It could help you two figure out what exactly is going on if the both of you are put under again.”“I think Kihyun-ah will do just fine on his own,” Hyunwoo replies. “My last experience was very… uncomfortable, so I don’t feel all that great about going under again. But, I’m more than happy to support Kihyun while he’s figuring things out.”“It’s understandable,” the older man says while nodding. He drinks up the last of his tea, as does Kihyun. “Now, shall we begin?”
10685595	the parable of the	{ "Archive Warning": "Major Character Death", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Min Yoongi \| Suga, Jung Hoseok \| J-Hope, Jeon Jungkook, Kim Namjoon \| Rap Monster, Park Jimin (BTS)", "Fandom": "방탄소년단 \| Bangtan Boys \| BTS", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by jynxu", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-21T00:00:00", "words": "19,683", "Additional Tags": "Terminal Illnesses, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, A Bit of Fluff, yoongi's a photographer and hoseok is a librarian, Slow Burn", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Jung Hoseok \| J-Hope/Min Yoongi \| Suga, Kim Namjoon \| Rap Monster/Park Jimin", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Yoongi vaguely remembers learning about the sun's inevitable demise when he was in grade school.At the time, he hadn't thought much of it (he was twelve, why would he?), but now he feels as though it was slightly morbid that a bunch of kids were being taught about the inescapable fall of humanity. The sun: it's destined to give life and light for only a specific amount of time before crashing, burning, and taking everything along with it.Hoseok's story isn't much different from the sun's, Yoongi thinks. When Jung Hoseok loves, he does it with everything he has.He had a girlfriend, once upon a time (Yoongi can't remember her name for the life of him, didn't care for her much anyway); a woman who stole his precious love for herself only to throw it away.Hoseok gave, and she took.Yet he could not find it within himself to despise her; he even tried to fix what broke when he had walked in on her with another man, never once taking the love she had soiled back. It stayed with her forever, even after she had been the one to end things with Hoseok when she decided that she longed for the other man more than him. The night he calls Yoongi with a sad heart and empty eyes is the first time they have spoken in a while; they'd gone to college together and drifted apart after graduation.Over the phone, Hoseok says only one thing when Yoongi picks up. "Can I come over?" Yoongi doesn't exactly say no. Can't, really.They spend the night talking about Hoseok's girlfriend ("Ah, my ex-girlfriend now, huh," he corrects himself with a small, breathy laugh many times), Yoongi's access to the studio and his photography, and where Hoseok plans to live now. The topic of Yoongi's pink hair even makes an appearance. They talk, Yoongi grabs a beer, and then talk some more. He's sure this is the longest conversation he's had since college. His voice becomes raspy as the time goes on. Both of their backs are pressed against the couch as they catch up, ignoring the soreness of their limbs. It's nearly three in the morning when a tired Hoseok rests his head against Yoongi's shoulder and falls asleep on the latter.This is the first night he realizes Jung Hoseok deserves a lot more than what the world gives him.Yoongi doesn't remember when he fell asleep, but he wakes up with Hoseok's arms wrapped around his waist and soft breathing against his neck. They are still slumped against the couch, the only light in the room coming from a dimly lit lamp. There is no way in hell Hoseok won't wake up if he tries to move, so he doesn't.Yoongi admits that having someone else's body heat pressed against him feels...nice. Yeah, nice."Hoseok," he grumbles, twisting slightly so he can get out of the other man's grip, "I know you're single now, but it hasn't even been a day. Let me go."The only response he gets is a groan."Hoseok," Yoongi hisses again and grabs one of the man's hands to push him away, "let go.""Why'd you wake me up?" Hoseok whines, shutting his eyes tightly. His face scrunches up and Yoongi most certainly doesn't think it's cute. He's an adult, for fuck's sake, there's no excuse for using the word cute as an adult."So you wouldn't strangle me in your sleep.""Oh," Hoseok says quietly, retracting his arms slowly, and Yoongi regrets saying anything. There's about a foot between them now and the latter instantly becomes cold without the extra body heat. An awkward silence settles itself in the small space of Yoongi's apartment. Hoseok starts twiddling his thumbs like a five-year-old and refuses to make eye contact.Yoongi clears his throat loudly, which makes the other man jump in fright. "Anyway," he begins, "you don't have a place to stay, right?""Y-Yeah," Hoseok replies, rubbing his arm. "My girlfriend owned the place, and I haven't really got that good of a job; it's a pretty small one at a bookstore. I could probably afford a cheap apartment, I guess, but I wouldn't have much left. Damn," Hoseok shakes his head with an all-too-fake laugh, "no wonder she dumped me."Yoongi can't believe that this angel has planted himself in his house."What the fuck, Hoseok? What do you mean 'no wonder she dumped me', you dumbass? That bitch cheated on you, man, she doesn't deserve you," Yoongi snaps. His anger isn't directed in the other man's direction, but Hoseok doesn't know any better.He just smiles innocently and looks at the hands in his lap with what is definitely an expression of pure inner turmoil if Yoongi's ever seen one. "No, no. She probably got tired of me coming home without enough money, y'know? I don't blame her. I still love her a lot, hyung," he reassures, directing the sickly-sweet smile his way. Yoongi relates facing Hoseok's grin a lot to walking out of a dark building and staring right into the fucking sun."Jesus, you've really gotta find some self-love. The bitch cheated on you-""Don't call her that," Hoseok interrupts, biting down on his lip. His voice isn't harsh, but gentle. Yoongi doesn't think that the other man can sound harsh, anyways."Fine, okay. The whore cheated on you and you still love her? That's not healthy. I'd trash her goddamn house and knock the other guy out cold, not gonna lie. How the hell do you function?" Yoongi is a bad person, and he knows it.Hoseok, on the other hand, is not."I just have a lot of love to give, I guess." Hoseok smiles brightly again; Yoongi hisses and draws back as if he's been burned. His retinas aren't going to last very long with Jung Hoseok around if he has to deal with those pearl-white teeth constantly."Christ," is all Yoongi says on the matter. Hoseok gets himself a hotel room and locks himself in it, doing things only God would know of. Nobody but Yoongi ever visits; surprisingly, for a guy as social as Hoseok, his ex-girlfriend was really the only person he had a constant relationship with. He has people who he texted on occasion, but there's nothing much more than that."Remember Namjoon?" Hoseok blurts as they sit on the edge of his hotel bed."Kim Namjoon? The prodigy from college? Shit, how could I forget him? He was a fuckin' genius. I haven't talked to him since graduation, but I wouldn't mind getting the chance to," Yoongi responds, glancing up from his phone to look Hoseok in the eye, vaguely wondering why he had brought up a random friend from college."Ah, well. I still talk to him sometimes. Y'know, over the phone. He moved to Busan; works as a CEO at some fancy company. Filthy rich, that guy," Hoseok chuckles, his contagious laughter causing even Min Yoongi himself to grin. "He's still the same clumsy nerd, though, just with a lot more money. Getting married, too, a couple months from now."Yoongi whistles and raises one of his eyebrows questioningly, replying, "Who's the lucky girl? Hope she doesn't love him just for his money,""Actually, it's a man. Park Jimin, I believe. They've been together for three or four years now. Met in a bar, can you imagine?" Hoseok corrects; he seems to analyze Yoongi's reaction to this disclosure. The latter's eyes widen for a moment, but the bored look settles back onto his face after the revelation sinks into his mind."Good for him. A nice house, nice car, plenty of money, and a fiancé who loves him. Almost makes me feel sorry for myself, living in a shitty apartment with barely enough money to buy myself a meal," Yoongi runs a hand through his pink hair and shakes his head. "Anyway. Why'd you ask me about Namjoon? Seems kind of... I don't know, random.""I just thought that maybe another person to talk to would benefit you in more ways than one. I'm the only one you talk to, right? Other than your boss?" Hoseok questions.Yoongi sighs; Hoseok knows him too well. "Yeah, okay, you're right about that.""I can give you Namjoon's number," Hoseok says, the sweetness in his tone nearly caused Yoongi to gag."Okay, okay. I kind of hate his guts, though. For being so fuckin' rich. I can barely hold on to my own apartment," Yoongi laughs harshly. "I guess we could manage to pay the rent if we worked together. I'm almost done with a new song, too, it would really benefit us if it got popular," he stops for a moment, "well. Popular by my standards. Like, a couple thousand views on YouTube. Not only that, but I've put my phone number out with the photographer label. I'm sure I'll get a call soon." Hoseok stares at the floor and listens patiently. He lifts a hand and begins to speak, but Yoongi isn't finished yet."You could move in with me, if you want. It's not much, but it's better than here," he nearly begs, his voice coming out strained. Yoongi misses him; misses human interaction. Misses the way Hoseok smiles at him. "Look, I know it's a lot to take in. I'll just-" Yoongi stands up abruptly and waves a hand in Hoseok's direction as he walks toward the door. "Just... Think about it, okay?" he says while he pulls the door open and leaves in one swift motion. Hoseok doesn't even get the chance to speak.Hoseok shows up at his door two days later with nothing but a suitcase and the smell of cigarette smoke wafting off his clothes. "I put an ad in the paper," Yoongi says as he and Hoseok sit at his tiny dinner table. They're eating instant ramyeon for the fourth time this week."For your photography?" Hoseok asks, looking up from his bowl with questioning eyes."Yeah, but I haven't gotten any calls about it yet," he responds sourly, rolling his eyes. "The music production is more of a hobby than my photography, but I'm not taken seriously in either fields. It pisses me off."Hoseok laughs at his choice of words. "Well, I love both your photography and your music. I'm just a librarian."Yoongi can't help but smile and he feels the anger dissolving just by simply being in the younger man's presence. "You're more than that, Hoseok. I've seen you dance before," he mentions, thinking back to college. "I wrote a report over your dance studio once; you were on the front page.""Ah," Hoseok wonders, "I don't remember that."His statement pierces Yoongi's heart a little bit, but he doesn't outwardly show it. "Well, I did. I sat and watched your practices and took pictures, even. Hell, did I get made fun of for that. Kids are cruel," he grumbles. "My photography has improved, yet I still get zero calls about it.""Maybe try putting an example on your next ad," Hoseok suggests, "if you didn't do that already.""I don't have any clients," Yoongi groans, staring into his ramyeon and pouting like a child. "I haven't had one in forever.""I'll do it," Hoseok says, nonchalant, as he picks up his bowl in both of his slender hands. "I'm not ideal, but if it'll help you, I'd love to." He starts to wash out his bowl, placing it gently into the sink to soak. "When do you want the appointment to be?"It takes Yoongi a couple seconds to respond, as he's still recovering from the initial shock of Hoseok's suggestion. "I guess," he blurts, hiding his excitement as he takes his own bowl to the sink. "We can do it tonight, if you want; the weather isn't ideal but-"Hoseok takes Yoongi's bowl from him and grins, his lips pulling over his perfectly white teeth to form a heart shape. "Let me do the dishes real fast," he says, reaching out his hand to shake Yoongi's for their agreement. "Maybe you should be the model; my hair color is pretty dull in comparison to yours."The self-pronounced photographer is at a loss for words. He doesn't know whether it's due to Hoseok's selflessness or his smile.(It's a combination of both.)He hurries to his room to get his camera; it's a Nikon D2400 that he's had since high school. The damn thing costed a whole fortune and he had saved his money for years just to buy it. He cradles it in his arms gently as he walks down the hallway, treating it with extreme care as not to accidentally drop it."You treat that thing like a baby," Hoseok comments amusedly, causing Yoongi to look up from his camera.When Hoseok said he'd model for Yoongi, he didn't expect much. Certainly not a clothing change into a grey turtleneck sweater and black jeans that clung to his legs in a way that made everything visible. Everything. "Where-" Yoongi starts to say, fumbling with his camera for a second, "where did you get those clothes?""Hyung, this is typical librarian attire," Hoseok answers, twisting around to admire himself, "have you never been to the library before?""No," Yoongi swallows."I guess it looks better on women," he sighs in a joking manner, walking towards Yoongi. "I contemplated putting on glasses, too; I'm going all out on this one.""You really are," Yoongi responds, blinking himself out of his trance. "There's a spot down the street that I was thinking of," he says, avoiding eye contact."Let's go, then," Hoseok announces, giving his friend a little push towards the door, "we're losing daylight." Yoongi's second attempt at a newspaper advertisement goes much better than the first.With the help of Hoseok's modeling, he's gotten several calls from clients who want photos of all sorts of events. It's been a week and he's had a schedule of meetings every day; the cash is rolling in faster than it ever has. In fact, he doesn't think he's had this much physical money in his entire life.He makes time to write music; it's still his greatest passion. He loves both photography and music production, of course, but the former has brought in more essentials than the latter. There is yet a label for him to sign to, but he can wait.Hoseok still works at the library.There aren't significant changes, but he's been recognized as the model from "that one ad" in the paper; it fills him with accomplishment. Some of it dwindles away when he realizes that he's still a simple librarian, but it's not his job that's the problem. He likes having a low-profile job, but his boss is constantly on his case about how he needs to choose between his "modeling career" and the current job he has. It was just one gig, he thinks to himself, too afraid to bring the point up to his boss, I'm not a real model.He does admit that he looks rather flattering in Yoongi's photos, though."Namjoon's calling me," Hoseok states, tilting his head questioningly. He and Yoongi are huddled together on the couch, trying to share a rather small blanket."Answer it," Yoongi says around a mouthful of food, not taking his eyes off the television.Hoseok swipes into the call, holding the phone up to his ear. "Hello?""Hoseok? I have a question for you," Namjoon says on the other side of the phone. "Well. For both you and your friend, ah...""Yoongi?" he offers, causing the other man to break his unblinking eye contact with the television and stare at Hoseok."Min Yoongi, yes. The photographer," Namjoon agrees, "I saw his advertisement, and I was wondering if he was interested in taking my engagement photos."Hoseok lights up, looking over to Yoongi with a smile that spreads from ear-to-ear. "He's sitting next to me as we speak, actually," he explains, giving his friend the notion to channel his businessman-like self. Yoongi swallows his food prematurely, sending him into a coughing fit; Hoseok covers his mouth to keep from snorting. "I'll give the phone to him right now," he says, teasing his older friend, whose eyes go wide."T-This is Min Yoongi," he stammers into the phone as he takes it, his eyes getting teary as he tries not to cough."Yes, as I was saying to Hoseok," Namjoon says, his tone unchanging, "can we set up a time for my engagement photos? It's not ridiculously urgent, but is sometime this week a possibility?""Of course," Yoongi responds, giving Hoseok a nod, "would this Friday work for you? 5:30 p.m.?""I get off work at five, so that should work. If I can get your number, I can give you more details," Namjoon reminds him; Yoongi proceeds to offer up his phone number and ends the call in a professional manner.The seriousness is lost within seconds; Hoseok throws his arms up in celebration and Yoongi lets out a whooping cry of excitement. "Oh my god," he exclaims, "I'm Kim Namjoon's photographer. The Kim Namjoon, richest 27 year old on Earth.""We're gonna be rich, too, hyung," Hoseok declares, swinging his arms to wrap around his friend, giving him a congratulatory squeeze.It takes Yoongi a couple seconds to return the hug; he's yet again sent into shock due to the way Hoseok shines so brightly.They break apart and the younger man is still sitting there with an ear-splitting grin; Yoongi is forced to look away and focuses on whatever show is playing on the television.Seriously, that heart-shaped smile is going to be the death of him. Yoongi buys a new stand with the extra money he's earned from his clients; he needs this appointment to be special. Not only does he need to prove to his former classmate that he wasn't just some uneducated nobody with a camera (he kind of was, but Namjoon doesn't have to know that), but it has to go well so he can get extra recognition from the well-known CEO.He also had a session with Hoseok, who taught him everything he knew about both Namjoon and his fiancé. "Park Jimin," he'd said, "you need to remember that name. Namjoon's head over heels for the kid."Park Jimin isn't really a "kid," Yoongi learns, he just seems like one; the man is twenty five years old and somehow still shorter than him (maybe by a centimeter, but that's not important)."Hello," the man greets energetically, "you must be Yoongi. I'm Park Jimin; nice to meet you!""You too," he says, trying to feign excitemen as he takes Jimin's hand and shakes it, "are you and Namjoon ready?"Jimin nods, stiffening in his white suit that probably costs more than the worth of Yoongi's entire life. "Yes, I think he's just putting the finishing touches on his hair," he explains, rolling his eyes. "My Joonie, always overdoing everything. He's too much, really."Yoongi pauses before he realizes that he's supposed to respond. (Too much time away from the outside world has really affected him.) "I haven't seen him since college," he points out."You went to college together? Wow, he never told me that."Of course he didn't. Yoongi's embarrassment shows as his cheeks and ears fill with color. "Ah," he sighs, playing with the camera stand in his hands, "we weren't really close, so that makes sense. I'm not even sure if he remembers me."Jimin shakes his head, "Well, he has a terrible memory, if it makes you feel better. Sometimes, he can't even remember my birthday." His hand shoots up and he waves to someone behind Yoongi (most likely Namjoon), urging him over. "I can't believe I'm getting married to him."The park that the two fiancés have chosen is so quiet that Yoongi only sees one other person during their session. He understands the simplicity; Namjoon also shares that their wedding will be small. Many of his relatives chose to ignore the fact that he's getting married to a man, including his own mother. Yoongi's sympathetic, so he tells them that he will support their marriage the best he can.As Jimin flips through the photos, a sweet, wondrous smile slowly spreads across his face and stays there the entire time. With almost every new picture of him and Namjoon, he giggles; his fiancé rubs his temple in a mock tired manner as he sorts out the costs with Yoongi.Namjoon quickly and efficiently counts the stack of bills as he faces Yoongi. A really fucking huge stack of bills. "That's seven hundred thousand won," he says, voice dropping low as he hands the photographer the money. "I could never thank you enough for this. Jimin and I looked for someone like you for weeks, and he was getting discouraged over how often we were shut down.""Wait, Namjoon," Yoongi interrupts, fingering through the money in his hand, "you can't give me all of this, it's crazy. This was the easiest job of my life; my work isn't worth this much."Namjoon smiles then, taking his eyes away from Yoongi and focusing on his fiancé, who is still looking through all of the photos with undivided attention. The tall man sighs contently, gazing at Jimin with such adoration that Yoongi feels his own heart swell a little."Trust me, it's worth it. I hope you can understand that someday," he insists.Yoongi doesn't put up a fight. "You were so right about us becoming rich," Yoongi's rough voice echoes around his apartment the second he steps foot into it, "you'll never believe how much I got from Mr. CEO and his bubbly little fiancé, Hoseok." He takes his shoes off, setting them on the doormat in an orderly fashion. "Hoseok?""I'm here, hyung," he hears a voice say, most likely coming from the bathroom. "Give me a second, okay?""Okay," Yoongi responds, mostly to himself. He pockets the money and flops down onto the couch, beginning to flip through channels like he always does.Hoseok emerges from the bathroom, pulling a shirt over his head. His hair is disheveled and he yawns rather loudly before he collapses onto the rickety couch next to the other man. "Long day at the library," he describes sarcastically, "I had to tell three people to stop talking. Three, Yoongi. That's absurd."Yoongi laughs, showing off his gums in an endearing way. "I bet," he agrees. "I hope it wasn't too unbearable, because I was thinking we could go out to eat tonight." The money widens Hoseok's eyes when he takes it out of his pocket, "Look at this. Seven hundred thousand won for one gig.""Damn," Hoseok swears uncharacteristically, eyes still saucers, "we really should go out."Yoongi hasn't worn attention-grabbing clothing for such a long time that he instantly feels uncomfortable the moment he and Hoseok sit down at the restaurant. His circular glasses (they're fake lenses) sit on the bridge of his nose, digging divots into his skin. His jeans feel much too tight and he can't help but play with the sleeves of his sweater while they wait for their food. Usually, he's decked out in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants; this is a lot of change for him to undergo.Hoseok, meanwhile, is wearing a leather jacket that reflects the dim lights of the restaurant into Yoongi's eyes (the gleam is still nothing compared to his smile). He owns a wider variety of clothing than the older man, but that isn't a surprise. Even his ripped jeans cause Yoongi to wonder about where he got the money for this type of wardrobe."How'd the two beaus seem? I've never met Jimin before, was he as wonderful as Namjoon's told me?" Hoseok inquires, glancing up from his glass of water that he's been stirring with a straw for the past five minutes. "I've heard a lot about him; I just don't know whether the big guy's too smitten or if Park Jimin really is a fallen angel.""I spoke more to Namjoon, but from what I understand," Yoongi taps his chin in thought, "it's the latter.""Really?" Hoseok raises his eyebrows, still stirring his water. "I hope they're happy.""I don't think I've seen anyone happier," Yoongi says with a sigh. "It just gives me a shove into reality, though; I haven't had a girlfriend since college, and my classmates are getting married. College, Hoseok," he whines, pressing his cheek into the palm of his hand innocently."Well," Hoseok says, one side of his mouth tweaking upwards, "that's rather sad. Maybe it's the hair? I don't know too many grown men with pink hair." He stops playing with the ice in his drink to focus on the older man, still smirking, "Min Yoongi, are you a virgin?"Yoongi snorts loudly. "God, Hoseok, you've got to be joking. Me, a virgin?" he chuckles then; the first real one in a while. "I'm not any more of a virgin than you are."Hoseok's laugh is rather high-pitched on normal circumstances, but the sound he makes now is something Yoongi's not equipped to deal with. His mouth his open and he can see each and every perfect white tooth that's exposed. He notices a little beauty mark on his top lip with a closer look; he doesn't know how he hasn't seen it before.The restaurant suddenly seems rather hot."That was a low blow," Hoseok snorts, wiping a tear from his eye, "I just got out of a breakup, you know.""I know, I wasn't trying-" he tries to apologize, but Hoseok shakes his hands with a reassuring smile."Don't worry, hyung, I'm over it. Staying with you is much better, anyways," he encourages without a second thought; the words mean a lot more to Yoongi than they do to him.Did Hoseok just imply that I'm better than his ex-girlfriend? Yoongi wonders, feeling the warmth creep up his neck. "You... You really think that?""Of course!" he exclaims, giving Yoongi another huge smile, "I mean, you're buying me dinner; I constitute that as a date."Jung Hoseok doesn't know his damage.Yoongi analyzes his statement for any type of teasing tone; he can't find one. The heat from the back of his neck spreads to his face and he pushes his glasses up higher on his nose as sweat begins to bead on his forehead. "Ah," he breathes, fidgeting his hands together, "I guess you're right."Hoseok bursts out laughing yet again and Yoongi curses himself for being so downright embarrassing. "The look on your face," he jokes, "god, if only I had your camera."Yoongi wants to ditch the restaurant and leave Hoseok to pay his own damn bill for toying with his feelings. "Very funny," he says, deadpan, "you're acting real grown up right now.""Our food's here, hyung." God. With the help of Namjoon, Yoongi becomes rather popular; he gets calls from clients so often now that it's tiring. He never thought that he'd have to work so much until he gets sick of photography, but the sessions he has often times lead him to shoot pictures of basic weddings, products to be sold, and even school photos. He'd much rather be using his eye for fine art, but this is the price he must pay, he supposes. So, he keeps his personal pictures in a portfolio that he hides beneath his bed. (Hoseok's modeling photos may or may not be included in said portfolio.)The daily meal of instant ramyeon is beginning to cease; the two roommates finally have enough to pay for real meals. Hoseok spends his days at home learning to cook various foods, and Yoongi comes home from work to be met with a five-course meal more times than not. (They really act like a married couple, he thinks.)"How's the library? You never talk about it anymore," Yoongi asks, genuinely interested. He wonders if Hoseok feels inferior due to the popularity he's been receiving lately; hopes he doesn't.It takes him a long time to respond, but Yoongi doesn't know exactly why. He's picking at something on his skin as they sit together on the couch as they often do, but he's never this quiet."You okay?" Yoongi asks, concerned."Just a little tired is all," Hoseok responds, blinking slowly as he stares at the skin he's trying to pick away. "Work's fine. It's been going slow lately, so maybe that's why I'm tired."Hoseok's answers are so... Not Hoseok that Yoongi's eyebrows furrow in concern and he reaches over to pull the man's hands away from pulling away his sensitive skin. "Are you sure? You feel really hot, do you have a fever?""It's fine, hyung," Hoseok mumbles, his eyelids drooping so low that his dark eyes are hardly visible, "just tired, remember?"The television is shut off with urgency and Yoongi presses the back of his hand against Hoseok's forehead, pulling back almost instantly as if he's been burned. "Fuck, Hoseok, you're burning up," he sputters, frantically looking around the room for his bottle of Advil that usually helps him with hangover headaches. "Just--Just wait here, okay? I'll be right back," he says, turning on his heel and racing toward the bathroom.I'm overreacting, he tells himself as he filters through the lacking medicine cabinet, it's just a fever. He locates the Advil and snatches it from the shelf, nearly tripping over himself as he makes his way back to the couch.He finds that Hoseok has fallen asleep in the short time he was gone. His face is blissful enough that Yoongi decides not to wake him; instead, he gathers blankets from his bed and covers his sleeping roommate with one. His pillow is thrown down next to the couch and he settles himself there so he can make sure Hoseok is okay; the near intolerability of the floor is no match for the concern he holds for the younger man.It's a long night, but Yoongi doesn't care. Hoseok has never been this sick in the time he's been staying with Yoongi, so he has to make sure of his safety. It's his duty as the older of them, he tells himself, but really, he wants to be close to Hoseok as he sleeps.That's not weird or anything. Not at all. Hoseok is recovering from his fever rather slowly. If he's recovering at all, that is.But it's just a light fever.At least, that's what he tells Yoongi.The latter has cancelled several of his appointments to stay home, much to Hoseok's chagrin. He swears that he's fine; promises that it's getting better. Yoongi wonders if the dank apartment is affecting his health and asks if he wants to get some fresh air. He denies.Yoongi attempts to cook for him, making sad excuses for soups that are supposed to be easy for Hoseok to eat. He tells the older man that it's the thought that counts and doesn't eat them."Hoseok, I'm taking you to a fuckin' doctor," he mentions one day as he walks in on him with a cigarette in his mouth.He turns around slowly, smoke floating towards the ceiling as he goes. "Please don't, hyung. I'm well enough just being here," he says, attempting to smile, veiling the truth behind it.Yoongi finally breaks."You dumbass, you've been sick for days and you're smoking? For fuck's sake," Yoongi runs his hands through his hair, "Hoseok. You're so sick that you can't even leave the house but you can light a cigarette?""It helps," he weakly insists, turning his back to Yoongi. "I'm an adult, Yoongi. I can take care of myself.""Fine. Die here in this room, if that's what you want. I'm through trying to help," he snaps, slamming the door to the guest room shut so he doesn't have to hear Hoseok's response. "Fuck," he mutters to himself, squeezing his eyes shut so tight that he sees stars for a second. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," the words match with his footsteps as he walks down the hallway to his own room, collapsing backwards onto the bed. The headache builds up like a hurricane, but he can't do anything about it. Headaches turn to migraines, and Yoongi squints at the ceiling to admire how the lights becomes fuzzy.He falls asleep that way. Hoseok peeks into his room and makes sure he's sleeping before hazily making his way to the bathroom to observe small bruises that litter his body. Things are difficult between Hoseok and Yoongi, to say the least.Hoseok tries to act as though nothing happened. Yoongi can't play along.He still hasn't apologized.So he drowns himself in his work, sometimes staying away from the apartment for days at a time. Hoseok misses Yoongi like hell, but he doesn't tell him; thinks it's better not to."Nice doing business with you," his client says, shaking Yoongi's hand. "I'm glad you could come all the way out here, Mr. Min."Yoongi smiles his fake smile that he uses for clients. "It's not that far," he lies, placing his Nikon D2400 back in its case."It's almost three hours away; that isn't far for you?" the woman inquires, raising one of her eyebrows."No," he responds, shrugging his shoulders. "I've been out farther; anything for my clientele."It is too far. It's too far from his apartment, from his favorite liquor store. Too far from Hoseok.The woman doesn't ask any more questions, blissfully appeased and unaware.The drive home is quiet and lonely. Yoongi cranks up the radio, but the lyrics wrap around his heart and pull on the strings. Something about a pretty smile that melts hearts; he finds it rather ironic. As the streetlights whiz past, Yoongi grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn sheet white. The woman's questions from earlier twist around in his head, forcing him to think about them (which is rather dangerous when he has full control of a car).Of course he misses Hoseok."God," he scowls, "what the fuck is wrong with me?"Yoongi finds Hoseok in the guest bedroom (it was really just a walk-in closet before they shoved a mattress in it), nearly asleep. When he sees the older man, he visibly shrinks back into the blanket he's wrapped in; Yoongi clenches his fists tightly at the notion. He notices the blood that trails from Hoseok's nose to his chin before he can hide it."I'm sorry, Hoseok."He blinks absentmindedly for a couple seconds before standing up from the bed, shrugging the blanket up around his shoulders. It trails behind him as he walks across the room towards Yoongi."I know," he says, leaning forward to rest his head on his friend's shoulder, his sweat and blood leaving an imprint on Yoongi's t-shirt. "I'm sorry, too."He almost responds with I love you, but he holds his tongue and wraps his arms around Hoseok and pulls him closer, making known his forgiveness. He shouldn't be the one forgiving, but Jung Hoseok is so damn selfless that he only perceives his own mistakes; Yoongi swears that this man can't be human.Hoseok steps back, wiping his eyes with his bare arm, the blanket falling from his shoulders. "You might wanna clean that shirt, hyung," he says, tilting his head toward the stain on Yoongi's shirt."You really put your blood, sweat, and tears into that hug, huh?" he tries to tease, knowing how terrible it is, but he earns a smile from Hoseok."That was the worst joke I've ever heard," he responds with a short-lived laugh.The thought of why Hoseok's nosebleed even occurred completely slips his mind. "Is it okay if I have you model again?" Yoongi asks."I've been sick for a week, Yoongi. Why would you want to use me as a model?" Hoseok replies, picking his head up off his roommate's shoulder."You got me here in the first place," he says, "I would still be eating instant ramyeon for every meal if it weren't for you."Hoseok visibly blushes (which is a rare sight) and smiles brightly at his friend. Yoongi wonders how he's able to maintain that glow despite his sickness. "If you really want to," he affirms, gently brushing his fingers across Yoongi's arm, causing him to shudder.He thinks it's obvious how he feels about Hoseok, but the latter is rather oblivious. So he buries his feelings deep within, trying to keep them hidden the best he can."I feel like I should hire you as a regular," he admits as he snaps another photo of Hoseok. The younger man is draped across their barren couch, wearing a simple sweater and gym shorts. Yoongi said that he was capturing their "penury." Hoseok had tried to argue, but he was shut down."When you asked to use me as a model, I was expecting a bit more than this," he mumbles, tilting his blank face towards the camera. "Our last photoshoot was a bit more professional, don't you think?""Ah, be quiet," Yoongi retorts, listening to the click that his camera makes as another picture is taken. "Y'know, theres a bigger picture to this; I'm gonna get us out of this worthless apartment real soon. We'll be living like kings, then," he smiles at the thought, "and the next photoshoot, you'll be decked out in Gucci shit, sitting on our designer couch made of velvet. Think about it, Hoseok. I'll be a world-renowned photographer and you'll be my elegant model."Hoseok can't hold on to his stone-faced facade. He grins with the harnessed power of the sun at Yoongi, who immediately captures the moment with his Nikon D2400. "Hey," he giggles, covering his mouth, "I broke character.""New theme: money can't buy happiness," Yoongi comments, feeling a smile spread across his own face.The two laugh together for a while, forgetting about their rather dire situation. Forgetting that Hoseok is sick, forgetting that Yoongi spends too much money on alcohol. Forgetting that it's only been two days since they "made up.""Just one more, okay?" Yoongi says, sitting on the ground to change the position of the photo. "This is going to be a weird request, but... Can you take your sweater...off?" He can feel the heat spreading to his ears and cheeks. It's art, he tells himself, I'm not just telling Hoseok to take off his sweater for my own pleasure.It's a hard statement to believe.Hoseok shifts on the couch, suddenly clamming up. "I..." he begins, "I guess, if you want me to."The sweater is on the floor in several minutes; Yoongi doesn't think he's ever seen it take such a long time to take off one article of clothing.When Hoseok covers his body with his arms, Yoongi knows something's wrong. Evidently the bare chest idea was idiotic in the first place, but Hoseok used to prance around the apartment nearly naked; he's never been self-conscious like this."Hey, it's okay if you don't want to do this," Yoongi assures him, placing his camera on the floor and standing, causing Hoseok to snap his head up to stare at him with fear in his eyes. The older man stumbles back at the expression, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion; this isn't Hoseok."Hyung," he whispers, broken, as he lifts his arms to uncover bare skin riddled with bruises.Yoongi then trips backwards; the air is knocked out of him. He sits up, sucking in a breath of air as if to say something, but deciding against it (or maybe nothing comes to the surface). His eyes dart around the blue-black marks that blemish Hoseok's dark skin, his path of sight like a horrific, heartbreaking game of connect the dots, also noticing how his ribs make themselves known when he breathes.This isn't Hoseok."Is... Is it a girl? Are you with s-someone?" Yoongi stutters; it'd be the best-case scenario, but he doubts it. Hoseok wouldn't keep something like that from him. (Would he?) Either way, the older man's heart is tearing, tearing, tearing itself apart."No," he responds, voice hardly above a whisper, "I don't know, Yoongi. I don't know, but I couldn't tell you because then you'd take me to some doctor and all your hard-earned money would be wasted-""Shut up, Hoseok," Yoongi growls (somehow, it sounds gentle, even in the raspy tone), "shut the fuck up. We are going to the fucking hospital whether you like it or not." He finally regains feeling in his legs, standing up and walking to the door to yank his coat off the wall. "Right now," he almost scolds, making his way to the couch and helping Hoseok to his feet. Yoongi hates the stares that he and Hoseok get in the emergency room.Maybe they're valid; he was in such a hurry that he shoved Hoseok into his coat and left the house with nothing else. The younger man's upper body is still bare beneath the coat, and he wears gym shorts to cover his legs. Yoongi, on the other hand, only has his t-shirt and sweatpants on; even his feet are nearly bare with nothing on them but a pair of slip-on sandals.No matter. He still feels the urge to strangle everyone who wants to stare."I can't fuckin' believe this," he mutters, "apparently the combination of a high fever and random bruises on your body isn't good enough for the goddamn nurses. What a joke.""Yoongi, please calm down," Hoseok comforts him, resting a hand on his arm. "We just have to wait a while, okay? It's not like they turned us away."Yoongi shrugs himself out of Hoseok's touch. "I wouldn't be so worked up if we would've come here sooner," he snaps, leaning his cheek against his hand in the opposite direction of the younger man. The latter doesn't respond; he buries his face into the coat he's wearing (it's Yoongi's) and stares at the doors, waiting for a nurse to emerge.The silence is too much for Yoongi."Fuck," he curses, rubbing his temple between his fingers, "why did you keep this from me, Hoseok?"No answer."Please, Hoseok. This is a huge fucking deal-""I didn't want you to worry."Yoongi wants to slap Hoseok across his beautiful face."This isn't about me," Yoongi scolds, turning to face the younger man, "it's never been about me. You're the-"His sentence trails off as a nurse opens the double doors, looking around the waiting room. "Jung Hoseok?" she calls, her eyes landing on Yoongi when he stands up from his chair."Come on," he says, taking Hoseok's hand absentmindedly and assisting him as they walk through the foreboding double doors.Yoongi doesn't let go of Hoseok's hand until they're told that he has to go to a separate room, and Yoongi isn't allowed to follow. The nurse apologizes, placing her small hand against the younger man's back and leading him away from Yoongi. He feels Hoseok's hand slip away from his own, instantly experiencing a chill spread through his bones. They don't break eye contact until Hoseok and the nurse disappear around the corner; Yoongi releases a breath that he didn't realize he'd been holding in.Standing in the middle of the hall, Yoongi feels rather out of place. He doesn't know exactly what's going to happen with Hoseok, but the absence is a crushing weight on him.He collapses onto one of the chairs that line the white walls of the hospital. Attempting to close his eyes, Yoongi starts hating the damn walls; they're too bright. I hate this place, he thinks, I'm getting Hoseok out of here the second I see him.Despite the bright walls shining through the cracks in his eyes, he gets drowsy; he wonders what time it is, but doesn't have enough energy to open his eyes back up.The nurses keep the suspicious looking pink-haired man on watch as he sleeps, just in case. Yoongi's night sleep only lasts for two hours before his eyes are fluttering back open.For a moment, he wonders why he isn't waking up to the smell of Hoseok's cooking; instead, he smells iodoform mixed with something metallic.He lifts his head, blinking a couple times. Not a single person is around, not even a nurse. Good, he thinks, I was getting tired of the stares.As ten minutes pass, he starts fidgeting in his chair. He wonders what Hoseok's going through; how long until they'll be home? What kind of fever does the younger man have? What-"Sir?" a nurse says, a young woman this time, walking towards Yoongi. "You are here with Jung Hoseok, yes?""Y-Yeah," he stumbles over his words, lifting himself from the chair and meeting the nurse with a solid handshake. "Min Yoongi, his-" he pauses for a crucial second, "roommate."The nurse looks down at her clipboard; Yoongi notices the way she's gnawing at her lip."I have the diagnosis of Mr. Jung," she says, trying to be businesslike. Yoongi suspects she's rather new here, judging by the way she's outwardly showing that the news isn't good."Yeah?" Yoongi snaps, narrowing his eyes at the nurse as she refuses to look back at him. "What'd you come up with, then?"The nurse finally looks up from her clipboard, staring Yoongi in the face. "He has been diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia," she delivers, furrowing her eyebrows in an expression of mixed sympathy and sorrow.Yoongi doesn't have to be a doctor to know what she's saying."It's a rare cancer of both the blood and bone marrow," she explains, but Yoongi isn't listening, he can't listen, his hands are shaking and he's going to strangle this damn nurse-"I know this information is a lot to handle, being so sudden," she tries to say, but Yoongi cuts her off as he sinks onto his knees, throwing his head into his hands. "I'm very sorry, sir.""Let me see him."The nurse takes a step back, surprised by the stoic tone of this man who is so out of place. "I can't let you do that yet," she responds, "but maybe in an hour or two-""Let me fucking see him!" Yoongi cries, gathering himself off the floor and knocking the woman's clipboard out of her hand. "Let me see him, god, I need to be in that room with him," he growls, tightening his fists together around thin air."I'm sorry," she apologizes again, bringing her pager up to her mouth and whispering something that sounds a lot like "security" into it. As she bends down to pick up her fallen clipboard, she watches the man grab hold of the chair he had been sitting in and wrench it across the hallway, flinching as it hits the wall with a thud. "Sir, please calm down, you're going to disturb the patients-""To hell with them!" he shouts, blinded by his own uncontrollable rage and helplessness, the scene he's making feeding to the emotions that swarm his head.The outburst is short lived; his strength disappears just as soon as it had come, and Yoongi finds himself digging his forehead into the checkered hospital floor. "Please," he's suddenly begging, squeezing his eyes shut so tight that he's giving himself a headache. He balls his fists and strikes them weakly against the floor, "ma'am, I just need to see him."There's hands under his arms. He's being picked up from the floor (probably by the security that the nurse called for earlier) and he opens his eyes to see the woman watching him being taken away with fear striking her youthful features. Yoongi digs his heels into the floor, trying to get the security guards to let go of him. It's a weak attempt.He trips over himself as the two men lead him out of the elevator and towards the waiting room. "Sir, we need you to stay here for now," one tells him, but it goes into one ear and out the other. "Visiting hours are over. They open again at 1:00 p.m.""What time is it?" Yoongi asks weakly, slumping over in a chair and holding his head in his hands."Three o'clock in the morning, sir."He wants to protest, scream at the two men, demand to see Hoseok, but the words don't rise to the surface. Instead, the security guards take a pitiful look at this wreck of a man and leave him in the waiting room, alone except for a receptionist sitting at her desk half asleep.Yoongi wishes he could enjoy something as blissful as sleep at a time like this. He's been sitting in the same chair for so many hours he's lost count.The clock ticks too slowly.Somehow, he hasn't felt any tears slip from his eyes yet. Hoseok has a terminal illness, for fuck's sake, but he can't even cry. This is a new level of depression; his eyes are so bloodshot that, maybe, the reason he can't cry is because of how damn dry they are.It can't be real; can't be true.This is the second night he realizes Jung Hoseok deserves a lot more than what the world gives him.Why didn't I notice sooner, he eats away at himself with his thoughts, this could have been prevented if I wasn't so fucking stupid. He rubs his tired eyes with equally tired hands, feeling his nostrils flare and his jaw quiver; the first signs of tears.But none come.Ever since Hoseok, the angel booted directly from heaven, landed in his apartment that night forever ago asking for ex-girlfriend help, Yoongi's been staying away from alcohol rather well. Hoseok would smack his hand if he ever saw his older friend drinking more than a can of soju every two days. They helped each other; Yoongi scolded Hoseok for his smoking habits and vice versa with Yoongi's alcoholism.He thinks that he'll come crying back to alcohol the second he gets home.His head is overflowing with unanswered questions; he got extremely limited information from the nurse (fuck her). How serious is Hoseok's situation? Will he have to stay at the hospital for the rest of his life?How much longer will that life last?The receptionist tilts her head at the pink-haired man as he violently smacks the heel of his hand against his forehead. "Sir?" she questions hesitantly (he's really getting tired of all the sirs), "are you okay?"She doesn't deserve a response."When will I be able to get out of here?" he asks in a low growl, making the receptionist wonder whether he's talking to himself or her."Well, ah," she checks the clock, "visitation hours open in five hours.""Can you make an exception?"The receptionist fiddles with her necklace, running the request through her head. Sometimes she wonders if this job is truly what she wants; often times it makes her stomach queasy, having to deal with so many grieving family members and friends. Her eyes scrutinize the strange man (he looks young, probably only in his 20's) and she feels sympathetic, as she has many times before.Instead of answering directly, she picks up the phone from her desk and speaks loud enough for Yoongi to hear her clearly. "What is your name?""Min Yoongi.""Hello," she says into the phone, "I'm in the waiting room with Mr. Min." Twenty minutes later, Yoongi is being escorted by the young nurse from earlier to Hoseok's room. The hallways are relatively quiet; he assumes that most of the patients are asleep. He thinks that Hoseok won't get a wink of sleep in this damn place, no matter how hard he tries.The journey is rather awkward; the man doesn't seem the same as when she met him earlier. He's quiet now, walking with sloppy steps and an arched back. Again, she feels sorry for him. But this is part of her job."He won't be staying in this room for too long," she tells him, "just for the first round of blood transfusions. After that, we'll set him up with a roommate, one that is in a similar position as his. We've found that recovery is easier for some patients that way," she turns a corner, nodding toward an ominous door just a few steps down the new hall they've entered. "I'm sure it will be a long road for him," the nurse finishes, "but we will do all we can to ensure his safety."Lies.All for show.Yoongi doesn't even take the time to thank the woman; he knows that none of this is her fault, but he's got to pin the blame on someone. It just happens to be her. "This room?" he whispers, lifting a finger to point at the door the nurse showed earlier. She nods.The cold door's metal handle stings his hand, but maybe it's all in his head. Maybe this is all in his head.When he opens the door to find a defeated version of Hoseok tangled in bed sheets and tubes, he knows it's real."Hyung," Hoseok blurts and smiles, sad, as he opens his limp eyes wider to see Yoongi in the doorway. Through thick and thin, his smile still stays radiant. Even at a time like this, the older man is made aware of how damn smitten he is for Jung Hoseok."Hoseok," he responds, voice breaking, stepping closer to the bed that he's laying on. "Fuck, Hoseok, I wanted to be here the entire time but they wouldn't let me, the bastards-""It's okay, Yoongi," he assures with a laugh; a real, genuine laugh that fills the menacing hospital room. "You're here now, right?"One look at Hoseok's forgiving smile is all it takes for Yoongi to stumble forward to the side of the bed and fall to his knees, resting his head on the blankets that feel much too similar to rough paper.This is when the tears finally appear.Hoseok reaches out and softly rubs one of his hyung's shoulders with a ginger hand, listening to the heaving sobs he makes. "It's okay," he repeats, the smile disappearing from his face (it's contradicting), "I promise. I'll be out of here in no time, just wait. Tell my boss that I'm still alive and kicking; he can't fire me yet," he attempts to joke, earning nothing but another sob. "Yoongi," he whispers, removing his hand from his shoulder to lace his fingers with the older man's, "please don't cry."He tries to stop, he really does; this is the most he's ever cried since high school. I shouldn't even be crying in the first place, he tells himself, I'm not the one with leukemia. But Min Yoongi is selfish.So he cries and cries, until his eyelids meld shut and he slips into an unstable sleep with his head resting against Hoseok's bed and his fingers entwined with the sick man's. The first blood transfusion is today.The technical term is something Yoongi can't pronounce; all he knows is that it sorts and removes Hoseok's white blood cells before returning the rest of the blood to him. Which is the most basic of it that he can understand; the doctor explained it to him and he tried to listen, but it proved much too difficult. (He couldn't even pay attention in biology class, for fuck's sake.)He also understands that there are two stages of chemotherapy that Hoseok must go through, but that's practically the extent of his knowledge. He's a photographer, not a doctor."You'll be okay," Yoongi tells Hoseok, giving his limp hand a squeeze. He probably needs a bit more reassurance himself than the actual patient, but nobody has to know that. Hoseok is strong; stronger than anyone he knows, so he's confident that this will go over well. "I can't be in the room, though, so I'll be waiting outside.""Don't be gone too long," Hoseok reminds him, winking the best he can in his fatigued state. The fever still runs rampant in his body, mixing with the infected cells and making everything downright unbearable. But he powers through. A smile can go a long way, he learns.When Yoongi's told to leave, he gives Hoseok's hand one last comforting hold before letting go.That's the worst part about this whole thing, he thinks. Having to let go.He has enough time to go home. His shitty car carries him all the way from the hospital to his apartment without breaking down; he assumes that's a good sign. The two are about fifteen minutes apart, which is too long in Yoongi's opinion. Maybe he'll start living at the hospital.The Nikon D2400 sits on his bedside table where he always leaves it. Though he's had to shuffle around a few shoots due to the mess with Hoseok, money pours in as steadily as ever. He thinks about how he promised Hoseok the chance to live in a brand new house, the same night they went to the emergency room for his bruises.That promise feels empty now.When he arrives back at the hospital, equipped with his camera, Hoseok is so drowsy that he can't recognize Yoongi at first. The nurse tells him that it's his roommate (because that's all they are, right?) here to visit him. At that, his face lights up the all too dark scrubbed white hospital room and he smiles. "Ah," he slurs, "my knight in shining armor."Yoongi captures the moment with his camera. It will last longer than a memory that way; and he wants to remember this forever."My prince," he responds uncharacteristically sweetly, taking one of Hoseok's hands in his own and kissing the surface. He knows he's tarnishing himself, but he'll throw away his image of the stone-cold man who nearly killed Nurse Ahn in a heartbeat if it's for Hoseok. At the action, the younger man flat-out giggles and sends his beaming smile Yoongi's way.The nurse simply wonders if there's something more to these "roommates" than what meets the eye. Jeon Jeongguk, Hoseok's new roommate at the hospital, is even younger than Yoongi could have imagined. When Nurse Ahn told him that Hoseok would get a room with another patient, he had his doubts; it didn't really make sense to him why they'd put two already-suffering patients into a room together, possibly irritating each other in the process. Turns out, Jeongguk works better than any type of treatment Hoseok's getting; every time Yoongi comes to visit (which is at least twice a day), the sick man is laughing so hard he may cry.Jeon Jeongguk is 23 and diagnosed with osteosarcoma.He's been subject to chemo for about a year now; things had been looking up for him, but a sudden change in contaminated cell growth caused the progress to come crashing down to the ground. The boy has a big nose and large, round eyes to match, along with three piercings in his left ear. He also has a lack of hair, due to the chemotherapy.Yoongi adds the young boy to his prayers at night.Though he and Hoseok get along rather well, he tends to clam up any time Yoongi's around.As Yoongi sits next to his friend, he tells him about all the jobs he's had to accomplish on an empty stomach; in return, Hoseok complains about the hospital food. "I swear, my theory is that they get the same delivery as the prison," he whines, tapping the older man on the shoulder. "Do you think you could bring me some take-out? Y'know, from that place we would always go to?"Yoongi smiles, his eyes wrinkling softly. "Of course, Hoseok. Just remember that if you want anything, really anything at all, you can call me, okay?"Before Hoseok can respond, the other patient in the room clears his throat. "Um," the boy mumbles, "do you think I could get an order of whatever Hobi's having, too?" he asks, looking up from his phone with pleading doe eyes. "Ah, please," he adds quickly, remembering his manners. (Hoseok's friend looks pretty old; he supposes he has to be extra careful around him.)"Hobi?" Yoongi questions, looking to Hoseok for an answer."Oh, that's just a nickname Jeongguk uses for me. Cute, right?" he smiles and says something that sounds a lot like "hobi" in a high-pitched voice that catches Yoongi off guard. He takes the older man's hand into his own, causing a deep blush to spread across his pale face. And if that wasn't enough, he moves his mouth close to Yoongi's ear and whispers, "Please, hyung? Maybe this will get him to open up. I'll make it up to you.""O-Of course," he stumbles, breathing heavily at the sound of Hoseok's sly words in his ear."Yay! Hear that, Jeonggukkie? Don't tell Nurse Ahn," Hoseok pulls away from Yoongi and claps his slender hands, smiling brightly at the older man. "We love you, Yoongi," he says, nonchalant, leaving his friend as pink as his hair for the umpteenth time. Hoseok really doesn't understand how well he can get under Yoongi's skin; in fact, he thinks that he could make the latter do his biddings with zero effort.Once again, Yoongi has to catch himself from saying "I love you."Jeongguk giggles at Hoseok's friend, wondering if that's truly what they are. (Just friends.) Yoongi loved the color of Hoseok's hair.It was a relatively solid shade of black, kept brushed away from his forehead when he wanted to look the part for his job at the library. Back when they used to sit on his old couch and talk with the television turned on for background noise, Yoongi would run his hand through the soft locks as Hoseok slept, sometimes finding strands of brown tucked away from a time when the man was wild enough to dye his hair. Of course, it was no match for Yoongi and his receding hairline due to all the bleaching of his own hair; Hoseok still pokes fun at his bald spots. (Even Jeongguk joins in occasionally.)Yoongi has been too busy to visit for almost three days; he can hardly focus on the task at hand when he is out working. Nurse Ahn reminds him not to run in the hallways, and he tries to slow down but his feet carry him away, eagerly ready to see Hoseok. He can't help but smile at the thought of the younger man and his glowing self.Now, as he pushes the door open to Hoseok's room, his eyes land on the man in the bed (as they usually do); but it's different this time.Hoseok has lost his hair to the chemotherapy.Nurse Ahn stands behind him in the doorway, tapping his shoulder. "Mr. Min," she whispers (they're acquainted now, both moved on from the fact that he almost strangled her), "I know I warned you about the chemotherapy, but don't be alarmed nonetheless. Hoseok is fine, just asleep.""Okay," he mumbles, only halfheartedly listening to the nurse's words. Stumbling into the room, Yoongi attracts the attention of Jeongguk, but not Hoseok. Jeongguk, with those eyes as wide as ever, knots his eyebrows together at how concerned Hoseok's friend is; he knows it's because of the difference in his appearance.He pulls the blanket from over his weary legs, pushing himself out of his bed that's more of a jail cell than anything. His bare feet don't register the tile floor of the room as he walks to Yoongi, offering a shoulder for the older (but shorter) man to cry on. "It's okay, hyung," he whispers, blinking soft eyes at him. "His hair will grow back, I know it. I mean, mine is," he smiles, showing off big teeth that hardly fit in his mouth, running a hand over the short hairs on his head. It's more of a buzzcut, now; after the crash and burn of his earlier treatment, hope is slowly returning."It's not his hair I'm worried about," Yoongi says, more to himself, unfocused on anything but his friend, asleep in the bed. "I just want things to be the way they were, Jeongguk.""I know how it is," he agrees, reaching out to place his hand on Yoongi's shoulder. "Never thought I'd say this, but I miss my professors," he smiles again, wistful and comforting.Yoongi smiles, too. He gives the same gesture to the boy, and they stand together, watching over the sick man with something akin to pain in their melancholy hearts. "I need to get out of here," Hoseok mentions, toying with his discolored hands that are placed in his lap. "Will you get me outside, my knight?""We take walks around the building every time I visit," Yoongi responds, yawning; it's past midnight and the hospital is quiet."No, no," Hoseok shakes his head, "I mean, outside. Fresh air, hyung. It's been forever." He swings his head towards the window past Jeongguk's bed, staring at the outdoors he'll never experience the same way again. "Just you and me; not even Jeongguk around."Yoongi reaches for Hoseok's hand, noticing the way it slips into his vast palm easier than before; he's lost a lot of weight. With a squeeze, Yoongi assures his friend that somehow, some way, he'll get him outside to experience the cold autumn air. "It's cold outside, y'know. Just a warning-""Describe it to me," Hoseok interrupts, still looking out the window."Well..." Yoongi begins, trying to think using the artistic side of his brain. He captures the weather constantly with his Nikon D2400; in fact, it's one of his favorite things to take pictures of. He loves the sky, the trees, the rain, how it all blends together and makes a perfect image, and he knows Hoseok loves it too. Instead of delving into the request, Yoongi shakes his head with embarrassment, knowing his description would be vague and the exact opposite of poetic. "You've been here for three months, Hoseok. Why do you need me to explain what the weather is like?"In an instant, Hoseok's face becomes downcast. "I miss it," he says, letting the thoughts within his head be known. "I miss everything, Yoongi." He sighs, pulling his hand away from the other man's slowly (much to his despair). With the same hand, he goes to worriedly comb through his hair, meeting nothing but the skin of his bare head. A pained laugh breaches the noiseless room as Hoseok's head falls into his hands. "I forgot," he says simply, shoulders beginning to shake.Finally, Yoongi sees right through the selfess exterior of Jung Hoseok."Hoseok, listen to me," he tries to say, his own eyes glossing over. "I... I'll get you outside. Just-" getting up from his chair, Yoongi trips over himself and grabs onto the door handle for support. "Just let me check to see if anyone's out here." He pulls the door open inch by inch, checking for Nurse Ahn (or any nurse, really). With nobody else in sight, Yoongi looks back at Hoseok, whose mood has improved considerably over the few moments that have passed, urging him over. "C'mon, there's a courtyard two floors down. We can make it to the elevator and through the back hallways to get to it, that's the safest route.""You sure know a lot about this hospital," Hoseok groans as he attempts to get up from the chair, cursing his feeble body and the mutated cells within. He makes his way to Yoongi, grabbing onto his hand tightly."I practically live here," he responds, holding onto Hoseok's hand and pulling him through the door, "this is my home almost as much as it is yours."As they travel through the hallways, Yoongi leading the way, Hoseok feels freer than he has in months. His bare feet slap against the tile floor and his hospital gown opens at the chest, letting him feel the air against his weak body. He smiles, almost laughing as Yoongi shushes him (he's grinning, too) with a finger to his lips.They make it to the elevator without raising much suspicion; Yoongi presses the button to take them to the first floor, where the courtyard awaits. The back hallways are like abandoned catacombs; especially at such a late time. Yoongi knows Nurse Ahn will have his head if she finds out that he took Hoseok out, but he needs this.Really, really needs this.They pass a room the second a nurse emerges; Yoongi pulls Hoseok down a different hallway just in time. "Okay," he says, out of breath, "we're almost there. You need a rest?"But Hoseok is so alive that he can't even respond.Their hands are still clasped together tightly; neither of them want to let go. Consequences slip their minds and the forgotten, youthful feeling of teenage rebellion flows through their veins. Hoseok's cheeks are flushed from both adrenaline and the strain he's putting on his body, but he doesn't mind. Yoongi is still breathing pretty hard, despite being the healthier of the two; it's embarrassing."Look," Yoongi whispers, poking his head out from the conjoined hallway, "it's clear again."This time, Hoseok is the one tugging Yoongi along the sleepy hallways, filling the place with exactly what it's lacking: hope."Which way?" he breathes, urging Yoongi to take the lead. Without a sound, they turn one more corner and are met with the doors to freedom; only one nurse, clad in the basic uniform, stands in their way. She's fiddling with some paperwork stacked on a clipboard, one that Yoongi will be seeing in his head even on his deathbed. As she turns around, Yoongi realizes that their journey has come to an end: Nurse Ahn looks straight through him and at Hoseok. Her eyes slowly move lower, noticing how the two men are locked together by their hands."Yoongi..." she sighs, disappointed, "I don't know what you're doing, but I can't stop you." Her concerned eyes change, closing upwards as she smiles, "And I think Hoseok is happier than I've ever seen him."Yoongi feels the way Hoseok jolts when his fragile fingers tighten around his own, but it only lasts a second (one that he can't even keep track of). "Thank you," the younger man says, tipping his head forwards in appreciation. "I promise we'll be back to the room in no time.""Yes," she responds, walking past them, "Jeongguk probably misses you two. Whatever it is, be quick. I'll keep you off the grid as best as I can," she winks once before disappearing around the hallway they came from.Two angels sent from heaven to bless Min Yoongi, a sinner of high status. Three, if Jeongguk's counted.(He guesses it's compensation for such struggles he's experienced; maybe god overdid it with the heaven-sends. Who knows, really.)For Hoseok, the cold air runs through his bones and reminds him that he's still alive. In comparison, Yoongi shivers and curses, clamping his hand on Hoseok's tighter."Is it all you'd hoped it to be?" Yoongi asks, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth upwards. Hoseok takes the courtyard all in like he's never been outside in his life; his eyes appreciate things that Yoongi can't. All the latter sees is a small space, surrounded by walls on all sides, with nothing but a single tree lit by two streetlights that seem rather deformed. There's a bench that's located directly below said tree; it stings his legs when he sits on it and pats the spot next to him for Hoseok.In Hoseok's eyes, the courtyard is an escape; a place to run away from the threatening cords and IVs that wrap around his neck from behind. He can forget here. Forget about the tiresome chemotherapy sessions, forget the hospital food that tastes akin to plastic, forget his troubles. The simplicity of it makes him laugh; Yoongi looks on with concern. He won't understand, Hoseok knows, but that's okay."Come sit," Yoongi says, scooting over even more to give Hoseok room.As he sits, there's a sudden silence that only one of the men enjoy. "Are you okay with this, Yoongi?""What?""I mean," Hoseok shakes his head, looking up towards the sky, "this is why I never wanted to come here. When I got sick, y'know? Because I knew something bad would happen, and you're already so burdened, hyung, without my hospital bills and..." he trails off. Blinking once, he continues again, carrying a whole new tone in his weak voice. "I'm gonna die, Yoongi. You know that-""Stop," he interrupts, narrowing his eyes at the ground. "Don't say that, Hoseok. Please.""It's too much for you. Just when you were getting the recognition you deserved, huh? Seriously," Hoseok mumbles, absentmindedly running his index finger along Yoongi's palm."Forget about it, okay? I don't care about money, that shit's not important.""I want to forget, too."Lips chapped and dry, Yoongi presses them to Hoseok's.There's no pull or press; Hoseok takes it without an initial response. His eyes aren't wide, rather hooded with his eyelashes clouding his vision, and his mouth stays open. With this reaction, Yoongi loses his burst of sudden bravery and shrinks back into himself, finally breaking contact with Hoseok's hand and pulling his own away to shove it between his thighs."Fuck," he mumbles, heat spreading through his body, contradicting the cold environment. He tries to speak, but is left with unintelligible words leaving his mouth in attempt to apologize. As he rambles, Hoseok's dazed expression finally shows something Yoongi can comprehend; a smile."Can you kiss me again, hyung?"Yoongi takes up the offer. "Yoongi?" Namjoon's voice says over the phone, "this is Kim Namjoon.""Yeah, this is Yoongi," he responds, counting the money in his hands (he's just gotten back to the apartment after a long photoshoot) with a sigh. Still not enough for the medical bills."Hey," the voice greets, "how have you been? You and Hoseok?"Again, Yoongi can do nothing but sigh.The pause is too long; Yoongi's busy remembering that Namjoon and his fiancé are as close of friends to Hoseok as it gets. They still haven't heard. He's the only one who visits; Hoseok hasn't even called his own damn parents."Ah," Yoongi starts to say, "Hoseok?""Don't play dumb. He used to talk all about you, Yoongi; I know the two of you live together," Namjoon teases, and Yoongi can practically see the dimples when he smiles. "He just...stopped texting me all of a sudden, so I was wondering about him. You, too.""He..." Yoongi doesn't want to lie. "He's fine. Just been getting busy at the library."As a kid, lying was Yoongi's craft. He never lost the talent; lying's all he knows nowadays. Early memories as a con man run through his head, and he almost expects a sour taste in his mouth as the lie passes through, but there is none. Or, if there is, he's too used to it by now."I see. Maybe ask him to call or text once in awhile, okay?" Namjoon clears his throat, "but that's not the whole reason I called you. I know you're swamped, but... Jimin and I are in need of a photographer at our wedding."For the first time in months, Yoongi feels the burden on his heart lift. He's nearly forgotten about his friend's marriage; he revolves around Hoseok so routinely that he's lost all contact of a social life. "Of course," he responds, smiling genuinely, "when is it?""Two weeks," Namjoon informs him, "November 28th. And," Yoongi hears the voice pause for a moment, "I'll pay for anything you need. Hoseok, too."Oh, fuck."You-" Yoongi stutters, grabbing onto the kitchen counter for support, "you want Hoseok to come?""Well, of course. He's a friend of ours, isn't he?" Namjoon laughs, not understanding how dire the situation is."Of course," Yoongi mimics as a wheeze, leaning his body weight against the counter.He realizes this is where his short-lived lie comes to an end."Namjoon," he sighs for the umpteenth time today, "I wasn't exactly telling the whole truth about Hoseok." "What?" Yoongi scrunches his eyes shut tightly, resting his tired head against the counter, his fading pink hair pressing marks into his forehead. He holds the phone so tightly he feels as though it may break; his knuckles go white. This is never news he wanted to deliver."He has leukemia, Namjoon."There's no response, so Yoongi thinks the line's gone dead. As he checks the call, though, he realizes that Namjoon's just trying to process such immense news."We found out about two months ago," he explains, gritting his teeth, "and he's been trying to adapt with the chemo, but it's so difficult for him, Namjoon-""Hyung, stop." Namjoon halts his rambling, "I'll find out some way to bring the wedding to him." Yoongi blinks away the threatening tears that almost spill down his cheeks, realizing this is the first time he's really broken down over Hoseok's situation. "Okay, okay," he says, more to himself, "are you sure you can do that?""Anything for him," Namjoon responds, "you can take Jimin and I to the hospital after the party." "God, thank you so much," Yoongi breathes, pulling his head off the counter, "that'll make his day. His whole year, really.""You should have told me sooner," Namjoon accuses, "we could've visited. Jimin's gonna be absolutely heartbroken, hyung. He loves Hoseok." The voice pauses, and Yoongi's left with silence, other than the constant sound of his old refrigerator. "How could this happen to someone like him?"Yoongi audibly exhales, rubbing his temple between two fingers. I've been wondering the same damn thing, he thinks, knowing he shouldn't say it out loud. "I'll keep it as a surprise, alright? Right after the wedding, though. I don't like being away from him too long.""Of course. And, hyung," Namjoon questions, "are you and Hoseok dating?"The phone is pulled away from his face as he chokes on thin air, nearly coughing out his lung. "God," he splutters back into the phone, "don't scare me like that." "I'll take that as a yes, then." Once again, Yoongi is left wondering how much Jimin's suit costs. The one he wears at his wedding is covered in soft, gold lace, contrasting from the bright white fabric. Immediately, he's left with the impression that Park Jimin is a prince. And of course, his husband looks dapper as usual. He's the CEO of one of the biggest businesses in the country, anyways; for a second, Yoongi wonders how well off Jimin was before he met Namjoon.The ceremony is short; there's no priest to give blessings. Instead, they hired a friend to repeat the classic vows and, of course, "you may kiss the groom."Yoongi, decked in the only suit he owns, takes pictures when necessary. Jimin will love them, he thinks, because he finds something pleasing in each and every one of his photographs. He sits with a group of people he's never met, keeping to himself and finishing his dinner quickly. Apparently, his "acquaintances" at the table are the least talkative bunch at the entire wedding reception. (Maybe the newlyweds set him up here on purpose; he enjoys the way he's left alone.)He packs his camera into its highly protective bag, moving to stand at the back of the room while Jimin and Namjoon get lost in their own world as they dance by themselves. He picks up on the fact that while the younger of the two is a rather refined dancer, Namjoon has two left feet. The crowd laughs along with Jimin when the tall man stumbles, causing his face to go red. Yoongi himself laughs occasionally, too.As the newlyweds leave the floor to the rest of the attendees, Yoongi flips through the pictures on his camera. His best work for his best friends, he thinks."Ah, Yoongi!" Jimin interrupts, tapping him on the shoulder. The elegance of his suit nearly makes Yoongi recoil; dressing in such regal clothing has never been his forté. "Are you enjoying yourself?""Of course," Yoongi only half lies, giving the best smile he has to offer. "The food was really good. Or maybe I'm just too used to hospital food-"Whoops.Yoongi knows he's made a mistake in an instant; Jimin's face falls quickly."Fuck, sorry," he apologizes, "that wasn't a funny joke.""It's okay," Jimin assures him, replacing his frown with a smile, "I had just forgotten about Hoseok for a second. I... I really want to get out of here so Namjoon and I can visit.""When do you plan on ending it?" Yoongi asks, shutting off his camera and placing it back into the bag. "I mean--I don't condone ruining your wedding, but I'd like to get back to the hospital.""No, no," Jimin repeats, shaking his head and causing his silky black hair to fall into his face. "I know what you mean. You love him and all, I get it," Jimin smirks as Yoongi goes red, giggling in the slightest."Just--Just tell me when you're ready to go," Yoongi mumbles, looking away and focusing on his camera instead."Now!" Jimin exclaims over the music, grabbing onto Yoongi's wrist and suddenly taking off in a different direction. "I'll find Namjoon, c'mon!"Yoongi's body type, like that of an elderly man, can't keep up with Jimin's agility; by the time they find Namjoon, he's nearly collapsing onto the floor. "It's late," Yoongi warns as he leads his friends down the hospital hallway, "I hope he's not asleep. I told him that I'd be back soon," he groans, waving at the receptionist as they pass. He doesn't have to sign in anymore; she knows exactly who he is and where he's going.The three of them feel rather out of place; there was no time to change their clothes, so they're still dressed in suits. Yoongi keeps his camera close, planning to snap some pictures of Jimin and Namjoon's visit. He still documents Hoseok's progression through photographs; maybe he'll make a scrapbook one day and give it to the younger man when he's fully recovered. Either way, he knows the photos will keep him on his feet. Hoseok smiles in every single one, he remembers, never faltering. His smile from day one is the same as the one on the most recent photograph."We should have brought flowers or something," Jimin whines as they step out of the elevator. "Or a huge balloon with 'get well soon' printed across the front. Or a card. Oh, a huge teddy bear! Joonie," he says, pulling on the cuffs of Namjoon's sleeve, "next time we visit, we're going to turn Hoseok's room into the best one in the whole hospital. Promise?""Promise," Namjoon answers, smiling down at his husband. "Is that okay, Yoongi? I mean, I've got the money to cover it."Yoongi rolls his eyes playfully, slowing his walking speed so he doesn't accidentally leave the two behind. "He'd like it, I know he would, but at the same time he'd worry about the expenses.""Hoseok is too selfless for his own good," Namjoon sighs, shrugging his shoulders. (Yoongi feels like he's used the same phrase before.) "Plan on it, though. Jimin, you can pick out the gifts, okay?""Okay!" Jimin responds, squeezing Namjoon's hand."Ah," Yoongi interrupts, stopping in front of a closed door, "one more thing before we go in. If you do plan on buying all those things for Hoseok, could you get at least one gift for his roommate? It's a kid, younger than Jimin. His name's Jeongguk; he hardly gets any visitors.""Of course," Namjoon says, the tone of his voice indicating that the answer was obvious before he even said it."Alright," Yoongi whispers, slowly opening the door to Hoseok and Jeongguk's hospital room. "Hoseok?" he calls quietly, peeking inside to find both patients awake, sitting on Jeongguk's bed playing cards. They both smile at Yoongi's return, and Hoseok places his cards on the bed, sliding off and making his way to the door."Wait," Yoongi says, opening the door completely to reveal Jimin and Namjoon. "You've got special visitors."Hoseok, ecstatic, covers his mouth with his hands. "Oh my god," his voice is muffled by the hands over his mouth, "you guys." Yoongi snaps a picture."Hopie!" Jimin squeals (another new nickname), pushing past Yoongi and nearly tackling Hoseok, wrapping his arms around the taller man. "We would've come sooner, but we didn't know! I'm so sorry," he blabbers, nearly squeezing the air out of Hoseok. Again, Yoongi captures the moment with his camera."It's okay," Hoseok wheezes, tapping Jimin's shoulder to let him know that he needs to breathe. "It's okay," he repeats, clearer this time, "I was going to call sometime; ask about the wedding. When is it, again?""Today, right now," Namjoon informs, also stepping around Yoongi (much more careful than Jimin) and adding his own worth into the hug."Is that what the suits are for?" Hoseok asks, moving to place each of his arms on Jimin and Namjoon, respectively."Of course!" Jimin steps out of the embrace, pressing Hoseok's hand to the lace on his sleeves. "Feel how soft it is, hyung! Namjoon spoils me," he giggles, not taking notice of how malnourished Hoseok is. Namjoon, on the other hand, can focus on nothing else. He's always known the man to be well-built, so the way his cheekbones jut out from beneath his skin scares him. As Jimin sparks conversation with Hoseok, Namjoon's omniscient eyes take note of every change: his bloodstained eyes, hallowed face, and complete lack of hair.Again, it scares him.Yoongi never released any information on if the chemo is working or not. Maybe not even he knows.Another boy (must be the kid Yoongi mentioned earlier) sits quietly on one of the beds in the room, watching the newcomers with wide, doe-like eyes. Namjoon offers a smile to him, and receives a small one in return.Hoseok and Jimin's chatter fills the room; Yoongi sits next to Jeongguk and picks up the game of cards he and his roommate had been playing earlier. Namjoon realizes that he's alone."Hey, Namjoon," Yoongi pipes up, waving him over to the bed in the far corner of the room. "This is Jeongguk. He's getting out soon, right, kid?" he gives Jeongguk a little pat on the back in reassurance."Kim Namjoon," he introduces, extending one hand for Jeongguk to shake, which he does. (His business-oriented way of greeting people doesn't falter, no matter how much he wants it to. It's embedded in his blood.)"You're a friend of Hoseok's, then?" Jeongguk asks, moving his deep-set eyes to look at his roommate."Yeah, since college," Namjoon answers with a nod. "He used to dance, y'know. Loved it, too; I could've sworn that he would graduate as a choreographer."Yoongi himself remembers a time where he would watch Hoseok and his team (but not really so much the latter) dance instead of taking pictures for the school newspaper. "It's been forever, huh? God, college. I won't ever forget it, that's for sure."Jeongguk moves a hand over the soft covering of hair on his head (it's growing even longer), thinking over the older men's comments about college. Oh, how he never thought he'd miss it this much.Jimin leads Hoseok over to the other three, clapping his small hands together. "Ooh, cards? I know how we're spending the rest of this wedding night," he says, his smile giving a certain light to the room (similar to the way Hoseok's does the same). Yoongi scoots backwards to make room for Hoseok to sit next to him on the bed, a pink blush settling over his cheeks when the younger man locks their fingers together."I missed you," he whispers, only loud enough for Yoongi to hear.The flighty lovers, newlyweds, and one lone boy play cards until the sun comes back out of hiding. While Jeongguk's hair grows in and his skin clears, Hoseok is left with nothing but deterioration.The intensive chemo isn't working.Each time Yoongi visits, there's a new bruise. At this point, Hoseok's skin is a spotted pattern of his fair skin tone and the deep, dark color of bruises. Bone marrow biopsy after another, the infected cells return. Yoongi writes down the name of the drugs inside Hoseok's body on his hand in pen (cytarabine, idarubicin), but it smudges and he forgets. They become a muddled memory in his head; simply referred to as "the shit drugs that don't work."The premonition that resides within his bones moves to his neck, strangling him. He fixes it with alcohol.It's only fixed temporarily, though. "Jinyeong, wait," Yoongi calls after Nurse Ahn (they could be called friends by now, so he finally knows her first name). "I want you to listen. Please," he places a hand on her shoulder to get her attention."Yoongi," she says, turning to face him, "is Hoseok okay? Why aren't you with him?"He ignores her inquiries."He's not okay, and you know it. You all fucking know it, but I don't. He doesn't," he spits, but his words are slurred because of the alchohol, the fucking alchohol that's a stain on his life. "You won't tell us. You--You think it's protecting us, but it's not. It's fucking not, Jinyeong."She knocks his hand off her shoulder. "Are you drunk, Yoongi?""Hell," he smirks, scoffing, "that's what you care about?"Nurse Ahn, in all her tiny glory, grabs the man by his wrist and pulls him into the nearest empty hallway. "Listen," she begins to say, her voice nothing but a whisper, "releasing more information on Hoseok will be too much of a strain on you. I'm sure of that.""Please," Yoongi begs, showing off the ever-changing personality that is liberated when he's had too much alcohol. "Please, just tell me how much longer he's got left."She traces the edges of the tiles beneath her with her eyes, refusing to look up at Yoongi. "How do you know the chemotherapy isn't working?" she asks innocently."Fuck, do you think I'm blind? He already looks dead," he scowls, showing his teeth. "Listen, Jinyeong. I don't know if you realize-""I know you love him."Apparently, it takes someone else's input on he and Hoseok's relationship to finally understand.To understand that he really does love him; that he's been pining after Hoseok ever since he showed up at the door to his apartment. Min Yoongi is a man of little words, but he knows that he could spill out his entire life to the dying man. His heart; it doesn't belong to photography, songwriting, or even alcohol.No, every beat is Hoseok's to take."Fuck this world," he mumbles, staring into the eyes of Nurse Ahn, tears blurring his vision."He's got about two months, Yoongi. We just didn't receive him in time," she delivers, "and he's too far gone. I'm so sorry."Yoongi had steeled himself for this; somewhere inside his head, he knew. Maybe it's the alcohol that causes him to sink to the ground, just like he had when he first received the news of Hoseok's leukemia. Or, maybe, he just had been leaning on the slim chances of Nurse Ahn telling him that Hoseok would be just fine, that he'd be almost fully recovered in just a couple months.But this world is cruel, and that's not how things work.Nurse Ahn aids Yoongi in getting up from the floor (she just pulls the unwilling man from the floor, actually) and tries to embrace him. Yoongi lets her hold on to his convulsing shoulders for some time before he shoves her away and sleazily stumbles down the hallway, his hands shoved into his pockets. Yoongi goes home and drowns his sick reality with even more soju. He hadn't said goodbye to Hoseok tonight; it was the first time since he'd been admitted into the hospital. Jeongguk plays with the balloons he received from Namjoon and Jimin while Hoseok gets his umpteenth bone marrow biopsy. He hasn't even passed into consolidation therapy; Jeongguk informs Yoongi that Hoseok is still going through remission.Yoongi sits on the one couch in their room, watching Jeongguk use his balloons as a punching bag. He blinks slowly, vaguely wondering how Hoseok's managing; these days, they've grown apart. (Ever since he learned of the amount of time Hoseok has left, he's been trying to distance himself from the sick man. Nonetheless, he still visits for multiple hours every day; he can't escape when his heartstrings are wrapped around Jung Hoseok.)"Hyung," Jeongguk pipes up suddenly, still attacking the balloons, "I'm getting out in a month."Yoongi takes a while to process the good news; he's been so used to tragedy that it's too surprising. "A-Are you serious?" he questions, lifting his eyebrows. "Oh my god, Jeongguk," he stands up from the couch, tripping over his own feet as he stumbles to the boy's bed. In an instant, he's wrapping his arms around Jeongguk and pulling him upwards off the bed."I didn't know you were strong enough to give hugs like this," the younger breathes, smiling."Sorry, sorry," Yoongi apologizes, letting go and stepping away from Jeongguk. "It's just so great to get good news, y'know? Fuck," he curses, gripping the footboard until his knuckles turn a deathly white. Biting his lip to keep the tears from falling, he reaches one arm across the boy's shoulder to pull him in; they've grown very close in the past few months. Yoongi never thought he'd befriend a college student, but here he is.Jeongguk laughs, pulling the smaller man into his arms. "Fuck it," he says, squeezing so hard that Yoongi thinks he may run out of breath.It's nice to have a good day; one in a million. Yoongi drinks himself to the brink of death.He only stops to remember that he can't lose his life before Hoseok does.It's only a while longer, he tells himself. Only a while longer before Hoseok's leukemia overtakes him completely and he dies, chained to that fucking hospital bed. Yoongi hates himself for counting down the days. They were doing so well; their relationship was finally past the "only friends" section. That kiss; that goddamn kiss ruined everything and now Yoongi can't breathe without feeling his lungs constrict.Hoseok may be dying, but he's taking Yoongi along with him.He should've known that day. He should've known that an ounce of good luck couldn't be taken lightly; Jeongguk's upcoming release from the hospital may happen, but Hoseok's won't.It was the last bone marrow biopsy. There's nothing left for them to do.Out of all the different medicines and treatments he's been blasted with, not a single one comes out with a sign of recovery. Maybe, just maybe, there's a spark of hope in the beginning. But it's too late for that now; Hoseok's body isn't strong enough anymore.So Yoongi learns to forget.Despite his newfound riches, he still lives in the same shitty apartment. (He told Hoseok that he'd buy them both out of it. Why get a new house just for himself?) The whole place is a mess; at least with the younger man around, it was able to stay somewhat clean. Bottles of soju, both empty and not, litter the floor. Dirty clothes are strung about and neglected takeout boxes make the floor nearly unable to be seen. The kitchen is a disaster, too, even though it hadn't been used in months.Yoongi sighs, losing the grip on his bottle of alcohol. It crashes to the ground next to the couch he's curled up on, breaking open and releasing the leftover liquid to run out all over the floor. "Fuckin' hell," he slurs, letting his head roll backwards onto the back of the couch. There's no telling how much he's drank; he lost track hours ago.His camera, the only thing kept documented and safe in the apartment, sits on the table in front of him. Tired eyes land on it, and Yoongi's leaning forward to take it gingerly in his clumsy hands, too busy to notice the irony. He takes the Nikon D2400 out of its case and the SD card from its slot. With a groan, he pockets the card and gets up from the couch in search of his laptop; he hasn't uploaded any pictures to put inside the portfolio beneath his bed since Hoseok's first modeling gig. He thinks it's about time to uncover Hoseok's bedridden life he's been documenting.Or at least, his drunken self does.He plugs the SD card into his old laptop, waiting for the photographs to transfer. One after another is downloaded into a folder; Yoongi doesn't remember taking these many pictures. As it finishes, he opens the folder and starts with the first one: his laptop screen displays a photo of Hoseok at the kitchen table, focused on his instant ramyeon.That's it. All it takes for Yoongi to regret his decision.The next shows Hoseok looking up from the bowl of ramyeon, smiling at the camera. Yoongi tries to remember the context, but his brain is too hazy from the alcohol. Something about bad lighting, he thinks.The first section is all good memories; when Yoongi reaches the second modeling session they had, down on the same couch he sat on earlier, his heart sinks. Hoseok looks ethereal, of course, even in the state of illness he'd been in, but Yoongi knows exactly where things go from here. From couch to hospital, he watches the man he loves deteriorate.Deteriorate, all with a smile. Hoseok outshines the sun at this point; all the epitomes are void. That damn star in the sky can't compare to the sick man no matter how hard it tries.He flips through the photos, keeping each one locked away in his memory. The time Jimin and Namjoon came to visit with presents, Hoseok and Jeongguk trying to catch snowflakes on their tongues out in the courtyard, and multitudes of Hoseok's bright smile."Fuck," Yoongi curses, wiping his eyes, "fuck, fuck," he repeats, shakily pulling his phone out of his pocket. He pulls up Hoseok's contact number, knowing that he's probably asleep, but it doesn't matter because he has to talk to him right now. He counts the times it rings (one, two, three) before the line connects."Yoongi?" a tired voice comes through, "it's like four in the morning, are you okay?""Why are you asking if I'm okay?" he scolds, scrutinizing the last picture in the folder: it's Hoseok and Jeongguk posing with their thumbs up, smiling for the good news of the latter's discharge from the hospital. He wants more, but there's nothing left."Well, of course," Hoseok answers, "when you call me at four a.m., there's usually a problem."Yoongi scoffs sarcastically, slamming the laptop shut. "You don't fucking get it, do you?" "Yoongi, what-" "You're gonna-" he hiccups over his words, ones he can't pick and choose like usual because of how drunk he is. "You're gonna fuckin' die," he sobs, lowering his head so it rests against the sheets of his bed. "Hoseok, g-god, you're gonna fuckin' die, you can't. You can't just-""Yoongi," the younger man repeats his name for the third time, "just stop talking. How drunk are you?" a pause occurs; the call emits static. "No, no. Don't answer that question; it doesn't matter. I'm not going to die, hyung, I'm fine. You were just visiting, remember? Just--Just please, take some medicine and go to bed. Your hangover is going to be god-awful."Hoseok continues to gently reprimand him, but he's too unfocused to hear correctly. Once again, he realizes, the sick is taking care of the healthy. What in the fuck did I do wrong, he thinks, what did I do that was so heinous that God banished this angel to Earth just to take care of my sorry ass?As Hoseok rambles over his homemade hangover remedies, Yoongi finds himself slipping away from consciousness. The light that blinks ceremoniously in his room becomes dim and he shrivels into the covers, comforted by the voice of the only real love he's ever experienced. College girlfriends and boyfriends alike, Yoongi had always known their relationship would end.Somehow, the one time he didn't foresee a horrid ending is exactly when it happens."Hoseok," he mumbles as the phone slips from his hand, "I really--I really love you. I'm... I'm sorry," and he finishes, dropping the phone onto the pillow next to him. Yoongi's the most hopeless romantic there is; every time he sees Hoseok, that cursed song that his mother used to sing to him as a child, You Are My Sunshine, plays repeatedly in his head.That same damn song is what he hears in every one of his dreams that night. "This might be the last time you see him," Yoongi grumbles, numb to the notion by now. Not only has his alcoholism reemerged, but he tends to sneak cigarettes into the courtyard. Hoseok asked for a smoke about a week ago; he declined, which abruptly ended the discussion. He lets the smoke escape his mouth; Namjoon watches in restrained disgust."What do you mean, last time we'll see him?" he questions, pushing away the urge to distinguish Yoongi's cigarette under the toe of his shoe."You've seen him, Namjoon," he says, staring ahead with unblinking eyes."That's just a part of the chemo, it doesn't mean anything-" he tries to say, but the older man cuts him off with a stark laugh."The nurse told me. Y'know, the little one who's always hovering around behind the scenes? Yeah, she let the whole thing go," he explains, rolling those blank eyes with little emotion. "More than a month ago, she estimated that he's got two months left. Funny, isn't it?"Namjoon finally gives in.He rips the cigarette from Yoongi's teeth, throwing it to the snowy ground and crushing it under his shoe. "You asshole, don't you care? Doesn't it concern you that he's going to die?""C'mon, that was my last one," Yoongi melancholily moans, "you didn't have to do that.""Jesus!" Namjoon curses, jumping off the bench and spinning on his heel. "I'm going to make his last weeks here a bit more bearable, if you don't fucking mind, Min Yoongi. Really," he scoffs, "when Hoseok rambled about you for hours, I really thought he'd found a good one." Namjoon stops in his tracks for a second, but still refuses to look back. "Guess I was wrong."Yoongi wants to say something. He wants to scream "wait", tell Namjoon it was a joke. Tell him that he can't deal with death; that Hoseok's not going to be the only one losing his life.Instead, he nudges the fallen cigarette with his shoe as Namjoon makes his way to the hospital room to join Hoseok, Jimin, and Jeongguk.Min Yoongi begins to feel lonely again. "Gukkie," Hoseok faux sobs, pulling the boy to his chest; it's a difficult position. He doesn't have the energy to get up anymore. That strength has left him. "You can't leave, who's going to play cards with me now?""You have Yoongi-hyung," Jeongguk tries to reassure him, wrenching his fists into Hoseok's hospital gown. "And I'll always play the tricks you taught me. Don't worry; you can show me more when I come back to visit. Maybe I'll beat you next time."Hoseok finally lets go, letting Jeongguk stand next to his bed. "What would that make the record? Gukkie: one, Hoseok: one-hundred twenty eight?"The two share a laugh; Yoongi's arms start to shake from the strain of holding up the boy's single suitcase. He's already shared his goodbyes with Jeongguk; plus, they've got the entire one-hour trip to the dormitory. Apparently, the latter has created a "Yoongi-hyung mixtape" that he wants to blare all the way to his old dorm.Yoongi can't wait."I'll miss you," Jeongguk reinforces, giving Hoseok's hand a squeeze. "Stay in there, Hobi, you'll get out soon. Then we can play cards somewhere other than a hospital bed.""Promise?""Promise."Hoseok tilts his head childishly, questioning the boy's trustworthiness. "Nope. You've got to pinky-swear."Yoongi rolls his eyes, despite the smile plastered on his face."Fine," Jeongguk gives in, lifting his pinky to Hoseok's (his hand is nothing but skin hanging from bone). "Cross my heart, hope to die."The dying man laughs, but it ends in a coughing fit. Yoongi stands up quickly, his eyes darting to the heart monitor. It picks up the pace just as soon as it had slowed. "Cross my heart, hope to die," Hoseok manages to say, his eyelids drooping. "Sorry 'bout that.""Don't worry, hyung." Yoongi lets Jeongguk carry his own suitcase.He feels guilty for the boy; all that "hope to die" shit got him flustered. (The both of them, really.) They pack into Yoongi's old car, the owner steeling his nerves for the upcoming playlist he's about to endure. The guilt pours into his ears, head, and spreads through his body until he's sweating.At least he can't hear the music."I know he's not going to survive," Jeongguk suddenly blurts, his eyebrows knotted and eyes focused on the road ahead. "You don't have to worry about telling me, hyung."Silence envelops the car; even the upbeat music is suddenly overridden by the heavy revelation. Yoongi clears his throat before speaking."How'd you know?"Jeongguk audibly chews on his bottom lip. "I crashed and burned in my first consolidation, but it was never that bad. Fuck," his voice breaks, "I promised him. I promised that we'd both get out and play cards.""Trust me, kid. I promised him a luxurious life in a mansion the day he was diagnosed," Yoongi admits, "you're not on your own here. A deck of cards in the outside world is a lot easier promise than unimaginable riches."Jeongguk shuts his mouth (and it stays that way for the rest of the ride), but he reaches over to give Yoongi's shoulder a squeeze.Funny, how he's always being comforted by the less fortunate. With Jeongguk gone, the room is almost always silent.Even when Yoongi's there. Invalid, though, because he's always with Hoseok. Even without words, he's somehow comforting to the younger man.Nurse Ahn checks up on Hoseok today, sending bright smiles his way when he promises her that he doesn't feel as sick as he did yesterday. (The twitch in his left eye tells of a different story.) Yoongi feels bad for him; every single person around him is a damn liar with their cheshire-cat smiles and comforting words. He's guilty, too."I'll be on call if you need me," Nurse Ahn tells him, gently patting one of his hands. She passes Yoongi and he feels her stare boring into the back of his head. That woman is much too involved in he and Hoseok's relationship.Again, the room is left with nothing but quiet, save for the rumbling heater in the corner by Jeongguk's old bed. Yoongi hates it, but he holds his tongue. Just like always."I miss the courtyard," Hoseok begins, trying to spark conversation, "is it still empty as always?""Pretty sure we're the only ones who have ever gone down there," Yoongi responds, digging through his pocket for his box of cigarettes. "It's practically our own little world, y'know. We'll get back down there soon, just gotta wait until this section of your chemo is over.""Yeah," Hoseok agrees, but his voice is hollow unlike Yoongi's ever heard it."You okay?""Better than ever."Of course Yoongi doesn't believe it. He keeps his eyes off Hoseok's frail appearance, choosing to watch the heart monitor until his own heart ticks to the same beat. For some reason, he finds that damn thing comforting. (He reminds himself that it's the same heart monitor that's going to tell of Hoseok's death. Somehow, it's still comforting.) He counts every time the line extends across the screen as a blessing, for now."You know they aren't trying any new medications, right?"The confession takes a lot out of Hoseok; he feels his hands, clasped together, shake with anticipation. He's always had to be the optimist. Always.And his polar opposite, pessimistic lover stands up from the couch, leans over the short rails of the dying man's bed, and kisses him.Hoseok is rendered helpless; he's been waiting for this sign of acceptance for weeks and it's finally, finally here. For the seconds that Yoongi's lips are on his, everything else melts away around him and he forgets about the situation. Fine by him. This is all he could ask for, anyways.Fingers crawl under his chin, tipping it upwards to transform their kiss into something more. Yoongi's got experience; for such a misanthrope, the man really knows how to charm someone. The older man opens his mouth, urging Hoseok to follow along, which he does. A huff of breath is released between them and they break apart, finally, focusing on nothing but each other. For the first time, Yoongi notices that Hoseok has a beauty mark on one of his high, prominent cheekbones. (It, along with the one on his lip, become his new favorite things on Earth. He's a simple man.)"I've been waiting for that, Min Yoongi. I hope you have something to say for yourself," Hoseok scolds playfully, displaying pearly white teeth that glint brightly even in the dim hospital room."I hope you know, that was me asking you out. Welcome to the life of my greatest boyfriend yet, Hoseok."Said greatest boyfriend grins wider, resting one of his hands with such delicate touch against Yoongi's arm. "I love it.""I love you.""You're killing me, hyung. I don't need both you and leukemia," he attempts to joke darkly, giving Yoongi a nod to let him know that he's just fooling around."God, you're too much," Yoongi whispers subconsciously before delving into another kiss."Wait, wait," Hoseok suddenly breathes, abruptly pulling away. A line of saliva connects their lips; he tries not to laugh."What? Is--Is something wrong? Do I need to call Nurse Ahn? Do-" Yoongi could fret over Hoseok for a good hour, but he's interrupted.Hoseok's bloodshot eyes crinkle in admiration as he reaches up to pull Yoongi into the bed with him until the latter is practically kneeling over him. One of those fragile hands pulls Yoongi's fading pink strands of hair through thin fingers. He urges the older man forward until their noses are touching, benign. "I just forgot to say that I love you, too." Jung Hoseok dies at age 27, chained to the hospital bed, just as Yoongi had predicted.He dies in the winter, his most hated season. Not hated, necessarily, because Hoseok was capable of finding the good in everything. "Least favorite" would be a better choice of words. (He told Yoongi once that he loved spring. Something about the idea of recovery, as the world revitalizes itself from the cold clutches of winter.)He'd almost made it to spring.Yoongi had hoped it'd be peaceful. Prayed that such an innocent man would at least be offered a quiet death, just as anyone would.The sad reality is, Hoseok felt the whole damn thing down to last moments.And Yoongi was there to watch.His last memories of his boyfriend are him writhing in pain while still, still assuring him that he was okay, that he was going to live through it. (Nurse Ahn couldn't even offer assistance; her hands were shaking so violently that she was told to stand off to the side as the other nurses tried so desperately to find what was causing the outburst.)(They weren't desperate enough.)Yoongi has always been a man of little words. He doesn't relay Hoseok's passing on to Jeongguk or Namjoon. Not Jimin, either. Not a single person will ever know of his own perspective, having to look into the glazed eyes of his lifeless boyfriend. (In complete honesty, that term "boyfriend" isn't enough. Not for the embodiment of the sun.)A funeral is held. Yoongi attends; doesn't speak. Doesn't listen. Simply attends and stares at the strange people whose mouths form words but never reach his ears. In fact, he might've left halfway through; but he was drunk at the time. He always is.That's all he has to grasp. All he can.Jeongguk visits. He doesn't remember what they talk of, just the boy's face. He can recall of Namjoon's and Jimin's as well, but nothing else. That's fine by him. Even the apartment that he's lived in for years becomes something hazy, like it's held so far back in his brain that it's become something unknown to him. Yoongi doesn't live anymore; even that's foreign to him. All he knows is alcohol and the sting of it as he swallows down bottle after bottle in the darkness of his apartment, locked away. (Voluntarily, of course. Fuck him for having a choice to ruin his life.)Alcohol poisoning may take his life; maybe it won't. Namjoon, Jeongguk, and Jimin team up to wean him off it, but the whole ordeal fails within a week. Yoongi finds the only comfort he can within those bottles of soju. Sometimes, even, in the solace of burning cigarettes into his pale skin. That nobody knows of, not even Namjoon.Min Yoongi never answers calls. Not from clientele, whether it be new or old. Not from Namjoon, Jimin, or Jeongguk. His own mother even calls once, but he can't find it within himself to fake soberness. This bad habit even transforms into locking the doors of his apartment and refusing to open them, no matter who comes knocking. This way, he can't even order food to be delivered anymore. When he runs out of scraps to eat, so be it. Alcohol fills him up. (No it doesn't.)He lays on the couch, half of his body hanging off onto the floor. In one hand is the remote for the television, the other holds, of course, a can of beer."Let me in, hyung, please," he hears from outside his door. Yoongi groans loudly, letting the other person at the door know that he is not interested. "Yoongi, it's about Hoseok."Suddenly his interests are perked.His sweaty hands slip off the door handle when he attempts to open it the first time. "Fuck," he curses, rubbing at his temple, "this better be fucking good, Namjoon." As he opens the door a crack, the tall man pushes it open with all the strength he can muster and stumbles inside. He catches himself and Yoongi notices that he's breathing heavily, face red and slicked with sweat."I ran all the way here," he explains, still heaving as he un-crumples a piece of notebook paper that he takes out of his pocket."Don't you have a...car? Or cars, plural?" Yoongi grouses, slamming the door shut so he doesn't have to put up with the light emitting from the hallway."Jimin's got ours right now," Namjoon answers quickly, extending the piece of paper out to the older man. "Forget that, you have to read this. I found it when I was cleaning out the all the stuff in his room. It's... It's for you."Yoongi snatches the paper, squinting his eyes at the scrawl on the old paper. Yoongi-- I hope you're okay. Somehow I know that this'll hit you hard, but that's fine. You'll get back on your feet. Please don't do anything rash. I don't deserve to be something you can hurt over. Just remember that you've got a long life ahead of you, one that isn't plagued by sickness (or sick lovers, for that matter). You'll turn to alcohol, I'm certain you will, because I know you. Please, Yoongi. A couple drinks are okay, but it won't do anything but flip everything in your life upside down. Remember that I love you. Take that in pride, if you will. Thank you for saving my life; the real one. The one that had a choice about living or dying. Stay alive. --Your Hoseok Yoongi doesn't realize he's crying until the rough pencil marks on the paper become smudged by his tears. He shivers once, blinking to let them fall over his cheeks and onto the floor. In his mind's eye he sees Hoseok, his eyes shining brightly despite the dark circles that cage them, writing this scribbled letter Yoongi now holds in his hands that shake as if the thermostat in his apartment has been tampered with.To prevent tearing the paper that he now considers an antique, he folds it with care (as well as he can with such clumsy hands) and tucks it away into his back pocket. He makes a mental note to frame the letter and keep it in his room to serve as a reminder that he's not quite finished yet.Hoseok wouldn't want him to be."Help me, Namjoon," Yoongi finally says, his dark eyes pleading with him. Before the taller man can respond, he speaks again:"Help me stay alive."
10629687	Past Lives	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Shayera Thal, John Stewart", "Fandom": "DCU (Comics)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by CombatBaby (ellehumour)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-15T00:00:00", "words": "13", "Additional Tags": "Fanart, fan comic, Not Canon Compliant", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Shayera Thal/John Stewart, Past Shayera Thal/Katar Hol, past John Stewart/Katma Tui", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Here is a brief note at the end to fill the character limit!
10689192	Crossed Purposes	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": null, "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by MrProphet", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-21T00:00:00", "words": "617", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Sarah Jane Adventures, Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Luke watched impatiently as Maria worked the lock.“Why is it Mum only ever gives sonic lipsticks to the girls?” he wondered.“Because you’d get beaten up if you were carrying around lippy?” Maria suggested.“At Oxford?” Luke was unconvinced.Maria tried the sonic lipstick again, with no success. “I don’t understand why it’s not working!” she snapped.“Let me see,” Luke suggested. He stepped past her and examined the lock, his hands flickering rapidly over the controls. “It’s a half deadlock,” he realised. “Try again.”He kept working the key while Maria played the sonic beam up and down and the lock released with a clunk. “There,” she said. “Teamwork.”Luke grinned, but a moment later he was all seriousness. “Someone’s coming,” he warned. They ducked through the door and closed it behind them with a soft click.They found themselves in a huge, open warehouse, filled with racks and racks of shelves. As they watched, the shelves in the nearest rack rattled into life, rolling down so that what had been a high shelf was now in easy reach.They ducked out of sight as a man appeared at the end of the row and walked along to collect a box form the shelf. For a moment he looked right at them, but he took the box and walked away without comment.“What was that about?” Maria wondered.“His eyes were glazed,” Luke replied, “as though he were hypnotised. And did you see those earpieces? Like…” He paused. “Do you remember the Cybermen?”Maria frowned. “German electronic band?”“Alien cyborgs; invaded Earth at least twice,” Luke explained. “You’ve forgotten them, like people have forgotten the Daleks and the Sontarans.”“I remember the Sontarans,” she assured him.He nodded. “You were involved; we all were. More than most people. But the Daleks, the sky full of planets, most people are kind of hazy on that.”“Sky full of…?” Maria fell silent and pressed into the gap between the shelves beside Luke as the door opened again, this time with a creak of tearing metal. A slim girl stepped through, followed by a teenage boy.“Nice,” the boy said. “I’m sure no-one heard that.”“There was no-one in auditory range in the corridor,” the girl assured him. “Only two people in this room heard.” Her head snapped around to look directly at Luke and Maria. “They aren’t supposed to be here either.”Luke waved awkwardly. “Hi.”The boy peered into the gap. “Hi.”Luke squeezed out of the gap and Maria followed. “Hello,” she said to the boy, while Luke went straight up to the girl and stared at her.“I’m Maria; this is Luke.”“John,” the boy replied. “This is my sister, Cameron.”“You’re a cyborg,” Luke told the girl.Cameron cocked her head on one side. “I should kill them,” she decided.“Whoa!” John protested. “We’re here for the machines, not visiting school kids.”“Technically, I’m a university student,” Luke noted, but Maria elbowed him in the ribs.“Not helping!”“Oh, well in that case, you’re not going to kill us because you need our help,” Luke said. “You’re not based on Cyber-technology, which means you’re not here because of them and that means you don’t know about the Cybermen, so you need me.”“I do not know the designation ‘Cyberman’,” Cameron admitted.“You surprise me,” Luke replied.“Okay, good; no killing,” John said. “We always like the no killing option, right Cameron?”“Right,” she agreed without conviction, although without notable regret either.“Good, now… Luke, right? What’s a Cyberman?”As one, Luke and Cameron looked around. It took several moments for Maria and John to hear the sound of heavy footsteps approaching.“They are.”
10687881	Instinct	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "James \"Bucky\" Barnes, Steve Rogers", "Fandom": "Captain America (Movies)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by deadhearts", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-21T00:00:00", "words": "2,567", "Additional Tags": "Breathplay, Blowjobs, D/s, Dirty Talk, Size Kink", "Relationship": "James \"Bucky\" Barnes/Steve Rogers", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Once upon a time, Steve's greatest pleasure in life was to bring Bucky to ruin just by submitting, by wanting, by kneeling before him. Steve was so small then, so light, so goddamn in love with him that it didn't take much for Bucky to take him. Bucky had the advantages of being taller, stronger, more muscular than Steve; so there had been little sense in fighting for strength via means of brute force. Steve just didn't have it; not in that sense. He had to find it another way.Steve felt the most powerful he'd ever felt in his life when he brought Bucky, big Bucky, to clattering ruins.All this strength later, and this is still true.It helps to be big. It helps to be able to hold Bucky down. It helps that Bucky goes boneless in his arms -- something that never used to happen, that used to only be Steve. For the very first time, Steve understands what Bucky used to see in him. There is an extreme pleasure in taking a person for all that they are.Steve knows this now. He does it whenever he can. Stamina and size are on his side, now, and Bucky's so willing, yielding, so wanting to take. What Steve has acquired in tacit restraint, Bucky has lost in much greater measure.He needs. Steve offers.But Steve still needs, too.They have undergone nothing that leaves no trace. Steve's learned to hold presence, but he still wants to please. Instincts still tell him to get on his knees when Bucky's strength rivals his. He still wants to take. He wants Bucky to take him.It doesn't take long for Bucky to notice.Steve loves the advantage. He tries to hold on. But it's Bucky, it's Bucky, so there are times he forgets. There are times, like today, when Bucky takes him by surprise, kissing him slow and measured when he walks in the door. There are times, like today, when Steve's hands start to shake; when he finds his breath breaking soft with Bucky against him. Bucky kisses so whole, his hands clench so tight in his hair, at his hips, pressing into his skin. Even as Bucky takes, there's so much he gives -- his warmth, his form, his tongue at Steve's lips.Pressed against the wall, left only to hold -- Steve's hips stutter forward.It's not as it was. They are both different. Bucky is softer, his smile with less edge as he pulls Steve in tighter. Steve's resolve is crumbling, his senses alight, and Bucky's intending to take Steve apart.It's working. Steve's breath stutters; his hands only hold, he loses initiative, he loses strength and size and pretty much everything. Bucky's still kissing him, it's hot and it's perfect, each swipe of Bucky's tongue going straight to Steve's head. God, Steve still loves this, he wants this, he wants him. He's floating; he's gone.Bucky's lips are at his ear -- "You think I don't notice the way you want me?"Steve's voice turns over in his throat, his hands burying helpless in Bucky's hair."I know how you like my cock. I remember it all. I remember how fucking thirsty you are. You used to fuck yourself in front of me to prove to me how deep you could take it, remember that?"Suddenly, Steve does. Angry that Bucky thought him too fragile to actually fuck, he'd once slicked himself up and worked himself open in front of him out of spite alone. He'd started with his own fingers then pulled out tools Bucky seemed not to even know he had, building, taking more and more and deeper and deeper as Bucky watched from across the room. Steve barely even touched himself, silent except for the occasional moan that broke out of him; and it had taken nearly an hour before Bucky moved at all, but once he'd finally bottomed out on the largest girth he owned, Bucky'd finally sworn brokenly and kissed Steve hot and furious until he'd come with two of Bucky's fingers pressing at the object buried within him.Bucky'd agreed to fuck him, after that. Like he'd asked for."You used to take me all the way down, any way you could." Bucky's thumb dips -- strokes a gentle line along Steve's throat. "You were so good at it, so willing. Used to swallow me right down and then look up at me with those eyes, Stevie. Your pupils. God. You loved to hold me in your throat like that, even though it cut your breath off. Your pulse raced so bad, but you wouldn't let me pull back. Sometimes I used to think you needed my cock to be in you more than you needed oxygen."And you know what, Steve? I don't think you're all that different now."Bucky's right. He's no different. Just to hear Bucky talk about it, Steve realizes he's holding his breath. He suddenly aches for it, longs so bad to feel the weight of Bucky's erection on his tongue. He forces the breath out, shaky, hands gripping in Bucky's shirt."Will you give it to me?" Steve asks, resting the side of his face against Bucky's."You want to take me the way you used to, don't you? Do you think about it? Swallowing me down like that?"He does. He nods."I can tell. I always loved those lips, Rogers. They always looked so good wrapped around me like that. Pink and perfect."Steve shuts his eyes when he thinks about it. He's so fucking hard."I can feel how bad you want me," Bucky says, so soft."Please," Steve whispers, sudden and unexpected."Tell me." Bucky traces the line of skin at Steve's beltline. "Tell me how bad you want me.""I--" He licks his lips, throat pulsing just to think of it. "I want you. I want you so bad, I--""Do you feel it?" Bucky's voice has gotten so rough, it seems to drag from the source of him, and Steve's lightheaded, the words striking through him. "Do you ache for it? Is that where your voice went? Is it in your throat, Steve; do you need me in there that bad?""God, I -- yes."Bucky takes a slow, steadying breath, with his hand flush against the back of Steve's neck."I love you so goddamn much," Bucky mutters, and Steve knows it; he feels it. "Get down on your knees."The second Bucky steps back to allow him to do it, Steve drops like he was made for it. His eyes find Bucky's erection, and fuck, it's so good, it's bulging through his jeans, and Steve reaches out before he knows he's done it to stroke at it with gentle fingers.His eyes flit up to Bucky's face. He loves to watch Bucky from here. He's always loved to look up and see the way Bucky's reacting to him best of all. His eyes have flickered lightly shut, his hand's reached forward to take Steve's fingers away from him, and Steve guesses Bucky's nearly as fargone as Steve is; this may not take long at all."Do you want to touch me," Bucky asks, at once quiet and commanding, "or do you want me in you?""In me," Steve says immediately."Take me out and put me in your mouth, then."Steve fumbles with the button of his jeans and there's a tremor in his hands. He licks his lips and looks up at Bucky and sees that Bucky sees it -- revels in the way Bucky runs a hand through his hair. He shuts his eyes and lets Bucky do it, lets his head be shoved aside by Bucky's attentions and pulled back in, knuckles think in his hair. "Do as I asked," Bucky says, and Steve does; he pulls Bucky's cock into his palm, that big, beautiful, thick fucking cock, and he rests the head of him on the tip of his tongue.He looks up at Bucky. Bucky looks down. This is how they've always done it: this is how they proceed. Bucky will give Steve what he wants; he'll fill him up good. He'll give his throat the satisfaction of taking him. But first he has to be good.Steve tastes him. Sweat and salt. A dab of precome dribbles onto his tongue and Steve's throbbing in his pants, Christ, he wants him so bad. But he just kneels there, where he belongs.Bucky's fingers in his hair. "Taste," Bucky tells him.Watching him all the while, Steve seals his lips around the head of him -- and holds."Oh," Bucky says. Sometimes, when Steve is on his best behavior, Bucky gets vocal. Every sound is a shot to his dick and Steve's so thankful to be here right now. Bucky waits and Steve waits too; he suckles, just a bit, cheeks sucking in, whirling his tongue over the slit of him to catch all from him that he can."You want me?" Bucky asks again. But Steve, otherwise occupied, can only blink up at him.Bucky starts to move. Bucky is patient. He looks down at Steve and Steve looks up at him, eyelashes long, working slowly around him and pulling back, pushing on, pulling back in time with the motions of Bucky's hand. He's pulled and controlled and his chest builds with want. His eyelids flutter and this is where he wants to be, at any size. He knows he's getting sloppy from the way slick forms at the corners of his mouth. Bucky pushes deeper, teeth sinking into his lip -- a little bit deeper with every thrust. Steve starts to feel effort and the first time the head of him nudges at his throat he hums with it, hums with the way his body reacts: a jolt of the gut and the clench of his fists, a hint of lightheadedness and the urge to back off. Bucky doesn't let him. Bucky's knuckles are harsh in his hair and Steve's breath starts to stutter, he wants it so bad, he aches, he aches; Bucky thrusts deeper, slow, deep, slow, until he repeats the sound. Until the hum's interrupted by his stutter for breath.This is the part where Bucky grows tender, and Steve likes that, too. He likes the guilt. It burns in him as it burns in Bucky. They both want this and it takes them over. Steve's mouth fills with all that he wants, saliva and desire, as Bucky's hand pulls and soothes in Steve's hair, pushing in for longer, making his breath cut off. Steve can do it. He can do it so much better now than he used to. He wants to prove it to Bucky, and he blinking so slowly through those spans without air, holding his eye, reassuring. He wants this. He can do this. Here, he is free: with no power, no fight. Bucky's hips pull back and Steve takes a breath he doesn't want. He wants to taste him, only him. He wants his senses overcome. He wants Bucky to trust that taking his cock is the most natural thing in the world to him; that the count of his heartbeat in his ears when his airway is sealed -- that drum of whole trust -- is the only true ambition Steve truly has.To do better at this. To bring this big man to ruin. Four, five, six. Bucky pulls out again. Steve takes in a breath, lets it out again."Steve."He focuses his eyes, blinks up at him. Bucky's dick is on his tongue and he is at peace."How far down do you want to go?"Bucky's fingers are gentle at his jaw, around his ear. He doesn't pull out, so it's not a real question. The question is: How far do you trust me? The question is: Is this you trying to tell me? Steve never fellated anything in front of Bucky until it sat in his throat so he understands the question; the need for it, the tone. Bucky's asking him if he wants him to take Steve all the way under; if he wants to turn this from a practice in endurance to something deeper. Into Bucky pulling him under and leaving him there.Bucky's hand's not in his hair anymore, so he leans forward and takes him in himself. He takes Bucky down nearly to the very base, and it takes an adjustment; his throat leans long and he gags, he chokes. Bucky is thick and he's so fucking snug and Steve takes him and blinks. His heartbeat in his ears slushes loud, louder, faster, until Steve loses count.Bucky just holds his eye. He holds his eye and lets Steve hold him deep; runs fingers down his throat. His hand maps his jaw where it's hinged open around the girth of him; then, slowly, his fingers dip down, following the line of Bucky's cock where it pouches his throat. Steve's own cock is still hard in his pants and it takes him over, gives him an odd urgency that's at odds with this peace. Bucky wraps his hand around his throat and just holds -- not restricting, not squeezing at all; just holding, palm finding the bulge of him."I can feel myself, you know," Bucky mutters, in open awe. "In you. I feel it."Bucky's fingers stroke himself through muscle and sinew. He holds Bucky's gaze, transfixed, drunk with the way his chest burns for air. Bucky looks calmly down at him through it, adoringly -- proud. Steve never wants to move. He never wants to leave. His heart is pounding, his eyes sliding out of focus as he looks up at him, head tipped back, full. He tightens his throat around Bucky's girth, revels in the way his lungs start fighting the longer he stays."Breathe," Bucky says.Steve pulls off him, oxygen flooding him as immediately as it's able."Jesus," Bucky mutters, carding fingers through his hair. The touch is so much, Steve feels the sensation tenfold what he should. He takes a few breaths of out sheer necessity. He's so fucking hard, he feels it so much. It's hell without Bucky in him, even with his fingers holding at his neck."You're so fucking beautiful," Bucky's saying. "I'll give you what you want. You want this back?" Steve nods. Bucky nods, swallows. "I want you to have it. I want you to come in your pants and I won't stop until you do. Understand? I'm going to edge you with my dick in your throat until you come from that alone, and you'll be lucky if I don't come first."It's an empty threat, but it does the right thing: leaves him helpless to Bucky, lets him give over that last shred of control. Steve blinks at him, lips parted, chest heaving for breath, until Bucky fists his hand back in his hair and leads his face back to his dick; and Steve tilts his head back where he sits and lets Bucky push slow, slow, and so fucking big, all the way back into his throat. Bucky settles right back in, inch after suffering inch, until Steve's eyelashes are left blinking against his stomach for how deep he is. "Take it, Steve," he whispers.It's all Steve can do, amid the heartbeat in his ears.
10689978	Wanderer Wonderer	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Link (Legend of Zelda), Prince Sidon", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by katsukiyaoi", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-21T00:00:00", "words": "1,790", "Additional Tags": "Angst, Fluff, Romance, Pining", "Relationship": "Link/Prince Sidon", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Link wanders the world, lost. He has thousands of people to help and it’s difficult to figure out where to start. Four cardinal directions, infinite paths that he could take. Losses no matter what he decides to do first. He feels a sense of urgency, an itch to fight. He bites off more than he can chew, and his jaw aches, but he has to do it. If not him, then who? He pushes himself and works long hours training, collecting materials, preparing to reclaim Divine Beasts and eventually challenge Calamity Ganon himself. At night, he rests fitfully. When possible, Link likes to sleep in horse stables. After spending most nights on bare ground, the inn beds feel too soft to give him comfort. He likes the solid presence of the earth, the rough sensations of hay, to remind him that he’s real. He likes hearing the occasional sounds of the horses so he doesn’t feel as lonely.Some nights, he lays awake and thinks about how weak he is, how people are suffering every day that he doesn’t defeat Calamity Ganon. He laments his inadequacy and looks at his hands and thinks about how small they are, and how they can’t do everything. Then he chastises himself because he’s supposed to do everything. He can’t waste time with self-pity or doubt. Link has to keep forging forward and getting stronger.To feel better, he thinks of Kass breathing music in the air, of the twists and turns of the bustling Gerudo Town, and the beautiful designs of Zora’s domain. Most of all, the beautiful prince that lives there. Sidon believed in Link more than Link could ever believe in himself. Link knows it’s because Sidon hasn’t seen Link drown in shallow streams or die under the piercing eye of a Guardian. Sidon has never bore witness to Link being battered by Fire Keeses as he attempts to scale a mountain. Sidon doesn’t know that Link isn’t that special, that the Master Sword is indestructible but far from powerful.Sometimes Link thinks he’s unnecessary, that someone else could defeat Calamity Ganon if they knew that there was no special advantage that Link possessed over other candidates. Just the faith of the Goddess, perhaps, who had been so kind as to let Link sleep for a hundred years while the rest of the world burned. It makes him doubt Her judgment, as traitorous as those thoughts are. And because of all these doubts, Link sometimes wishes he didn’t have to exist at all. Didn’t have to live and fight for everyone else. The thoughts surge to the front of his mind when he’s darting between the foul, unwashed legs of a lumbering Hinox, or when the Stone Talus’ fist catches his limb in a crushing blow, or when the Blood Moon rises after a particularly taxing day. Link wonders why he was designated as the Hero of Hyrule. Link wishes it was someone else. Link wants to skip through the hard parts of his life, fast-forward to some amazing fantasy future where he returns to Sidon’s welcoming arms every night. Sometimes he imagines swimming with Sidon under a blanket of stars, or marrying Sidon under the accepting gaze of Muzu and an arch made of water lilies. Of course, they are ridiculous thoughts. Sidon is a prince, a male, a Zora, and has a hundred extra years of maturity over Link. He’s widely loved and has his own fanclub. Link has no claim to royalty and knows little about politics or Zora courting practices. Worst of all, he can’t speak. He could never feasibly be an adequate ambassador, let alone a prince or king. Link huffs and digs through his bottomless bag to locate Mipha’s armor. He spreads the scaly cloth onto a sack of wheat and curls his arms around his makeshift pillow. He inhales the faint scent of fish and thinks of Sidon’s perfect smile. His heart stirs, and he pushes down the butterflies with a heavy exhale. He pushes out a gust of air, his thoughts of whimsy. Link’s duty is to Hyrule. He is not allowed to be selfish. ***When Calamity Ganon collapses and ceases to move, Link is unsure of the next step. He approaches the body, affirms the death of the personified plague, and collects his loot. He walks to the wall of the castle and looks down. He could jump. The people could think that both he and Ganon had perished in their battle. Link’s singular duty was over. He had done his part. He thinks of the fairies imprisoned in his bag. He could set them free, and free himself from the weight of the world. Link takes a deep breath –--and climbs down. Perhaps his head would clear after some rest and a celebration. Foot, foot, hand, hand. He focuses on the coarse rock beneath his fingers. ***Link wanders the world, lost. He runs errands occasionally and dispatches Bokoblin camps, the only remaining threats to civilization. He travels often and resists the urge to return to Zora’s domain for a few weeks. He misses Sidon, but he doesn’t want the prince to think Link is obsessed or clingy.Link collects fangs from his enemies and strings them together with twine to make a necklace. He learns to braid and weave from a fledgling Rito. Her bright smile makes him almost envious. Link wants a light, carefree happiness, but he’s filled with guilt and longing. Guilt for his selfishness, to sleep so soundly as others suffered, and longing to be selfish again by whisking Sidon into his arms and away from his princely duties. Link embeds precious metals and jewels from across the land into the necklace. He polishes and sandpapers the teeth so that they are more refined. He makes dyes out of crushed flowers and seals the paint with a finishing coat of clear tree sap. He wraps his masterpiece inside a bundle of old clothes and rides a wild horse to Zora’s domain. “Link! It’s been too long,” shouts a guard upon recognizing Link’s lithe figure. Link dismounts and hands the reins to the tall Zora, forcing a smile onto his scarred, chapped lips. “I’ll take care of this fella for you.”“I’ll inform the prince of your arrival,” blusters the other guard, a newer recruit that Link hasn’t met before. Nonetheless, the guard looks in awe of the tiny Hylian. He blinks rapidly a few times before quickly marching away.Link is halfway to the inn when Sidon intercepts and envelops Link in a hug. “Link, my dear friend, how I missed you so! Congratulations for defeating the Calamity Ganon. I always knew you could do it,” Sidon says. He pulls back slightly to give Link a dashing grin. “Come stay in a guest room in the castle! You are always welcome at Zora’s Domain. I will have an attendant prepare a room for you immediately.”Link flushes a bit and shakes his head, as if to dismiss Sidon’s praise and generous offer.“Nonsense, Link. I owe you the world! Quite literally, if you know what I mean,” Sidon says. He winks and chortles a bit at his own joke. Link doesn’t really see the humor, but he smiles because Sidon is smiling. Link spends the following days running more errands. He helps a few Zora soldiers dig a new canal. He trades goods with the local store and traveling merchants. He stays two nights. On the third morning, he packs his bag and knocks on Sidon’s bedroom door just after dawn. The door cracks open in a few minutes. “Hello, Link,” Sidon says pleasantly, yawning behind a hand. Link enters the room and waits until Sidon closes the door.“What is it, my dear friend?”Link hands the cloth parcel to Sidon. “A gift?” The prince looks delighted. Link nods nervously. “May I open it?” More fervent nodding. Sidon carefully unwraps the parcel, which is a bit comical to Link since the wrapping is by no means worthy of such delicate treatment.Sidon gasps when he sees Link’s creation. “It’s beautiful. Where did you get this?” Link hesitates, unsure how to communicate. “Did you make it?” Link swallows and nods again.“Oh, thank you! Thank you so much, Link,” Sidon gushes, immediately reaching up to put the necklace on. “How do I look?” Sidon asks, teasing with his signature bicep curl and grin.In hindsight, the rainbow of colors looks somewhat childish and random. Perhaps he should have focused on hues that would complement Sidon’s red and white coloring. The necklace doesn’t look royal or elegant, but playful. Probably not a necklace that Sidon could wear all the time.Either way, Sidon is always perfect to Link. Link smiles and hugs Sidon gently. Sidon hugs tighter. “Are you leaving now, Link?” comes Sidon’s voice, close to the pointed tip of an ear. Link nods and feels Sidon’s mouth brush against the ear. The ear reddens. “I’ll miss you, Link. You can come back anytime. Zora’s Domain will always welcome you,” Sidon promises. Link nods again even though he knows that he’s a burden and Sidon is just unbearably polite. Sidon will probably take off the necklace as soon as he leaves and stuff it in a drawer. Link is okay with that, though. He just wanted to give a piece of himself to the person that made him happiest. “May I ask where you’re going?” Sidon inquires politely, dropping his arms and pulling back to look into Link’s eyes. Link avoids his warm gaze out of embarrassment and shrugs, waving his arms to indicate anywhere, wherever-whatever. “Do you ever feel lonely from traveling all the time? It must be difficult.” Link shrugs. “But you don’t have to. Travel all the time, that is. Unless you want to, of course, I’m just saying that you could stay at Zora’s Domain forever and I really wouldn’t mind, but if you prefer traveling then I wouldn’t dream of stopping you or anything like that,” Sidon says in a rush. Link blinks, unused to seeing the prince fumble with his words. He smiles uncertainly up at the tall Zora.“I just want you to be happy,” Sidon says affirmatively. “And I really want you to know that I, um, we love having you here. You’re a delight.” Sidon fiddles with the end of his head-tail. “And I’ll miss you. Really.”Link is sure now that he’s dreaming, but he figures it’s a lucid dream since his dream-self responds to the commands that he gives it. Link places his heavy bag on the ground and nods. Sidon’s eyes water and Link wanders in them, lost, and drowns in happiness, love, and newfound purpose.
10687332	Where the Sun Meets the	{ "Archive Warning": "Major Character Death", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Eleanor Hume, Rokurou Rangetsu, Full Party", "Fandom": "Tales of Berseria", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Artikaa", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-21T00:00:00", "words": "8,192", "Additional Tags": "Canon Compliant, spoiler heavy, Angst, Happy Ending, Romance, Major character death - Freeform, Plot Spoilers", "Relationship": "Eleanor Hume/Rokurou Rangetsu", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Eleanor knelt against the cool earth and took the petal of a flower between her fingers, the delicate texture pressing against her skin. She rubbed her thumb over it, careful not to rip it from its base, and lifted her head. The blanket of flowers spread around her for as far as she could see, and her heartbeat sped as her eyes scanned the horizon. It was like it was expanding endlessly outward, covering the world in nothing but a pale white sky and the river of pink flowers beneath it.The fingers still holding the petal were overcome with warmth. Slowly, almost in fear of laying her eyes upon her own hand, Eleanor turned her gaze to the ground. Her fingers, where they had rubbed at the petals, were coming away covered with blood. She jerked her hand back, cradling it to her chest though it was painless, and stood. Her knees and boots where they had touched the ground were slick with blood, and when she looked down again all the pink flowers had turned a deep shade of red. The steady drip of blood flowing slowly off the tips of flower petals echoed in every direction. Hesitantly, she reached for her spear, but her hand flowed through empty air. Eleanor’s heart raced furiously in her chest, its beat pounding in her ears.“Traitor.” She spun, still grasping for a weapon that wasn’t there, and her breathing hitched.“Oscar,” she said. Her voice was weak and the air was impossibly thick—she could hardly hear herself.He was close—impossibly close. “Traitor,” he repeated. His gaze had never been so critical. “Why did you betray us, Eleanor? Why are you fighting alongside demons?”“Did they not kill your mother?” Teresa’s breath was hot on the back of her neck. They circled her, slowly, as Eleanor began to shake. Her heart pounded still in her ears: Traitor. Traitor. Traitor. “I—I never meant—““But you did,” Oscar said, unsheathing his own sword from his belt. “I’m sorry, Eleanor. I truly did think of you as a friend.”Tears welled in Eleanor’s eyes. The image of Oscar before her wavered in the collected water, and her tears poured silently forward as she tried to blink them away. Teresa readied her weapon. They stood before her, each the perfect mirror of the other, and condemned her to die. Eleanor fell to her knees, arms limp at her sides. Her legs slid in the slick field she had resigned to die in.She wasn’t strong enough to fight them again. She couldn’t bring herself to lift another finger against her friends.Eleanor kept her eyes wide open. She watched Oscar and Teresa reel back their weapons, expressionless, and then they were gone. She hadn’t so much as blinked, but the siblings had disappeared completely.The hair on the back of her neck slowly crawled upward as she became aware of sounds behind her. They had just started—or perhaps they had always been there, and she had not noticed.Slowly, carefully, she turned. Velvet was knelt over not ten feet behind her, her back towards Eleanor. Eleanor slowly stood from the ground, her legs shaking, and stepped towards her.“Velvet?”Velvet whipped her head around, a snarl ripping through her lips as she laid her eyes upon Eleanor. Velvet had the eyes of a wild animal, and Eleanor’s eyes focused on the blood smeared across Velvet’s mouth, coating her cheeks and chin in a slick crimson that shone in the white light of the field. Beneath her were the two exorcists. Oscars head lay facing Eleanor, no longer attached to the rest of his body, and his critical, lifeless eyes judged her from where they lay.Without so much as a breath, Velvet’s hand was around Eleanor’s throat, digging her claws deeper and deeper into the tender skin of her neck. She felt the skin break. She felt the claws pushing past her muscles, forcing their way in. She felt her life draining, pouring into those pulsing fingers buried in her neck. Velvet’s claw throbbed with fresh blood. Eleanor cried out in pain. Her eyes shot open. She was in a cold sweat, and her heart showed no signs of slowing any time soon. Her fingers flitted up to her neck, checking the ghosts of pain, but even that was soon trickling away.Magilou and Velvet were still fast asleep in their own bunks. Eleanor watched as the room swayed slowly in a way she once felt she would never get used to. The Van Eltia had been at sail for nearly a full day, but the ghosts of those they had killed would haunt her forever. Eleanor glanced at Velvet, who was sleeping on her side with her back to the room. Eleanor swallowed gently, remembering Oscar’s lifeless eyes. This was the path she chose.Quietly, Eleanor slipped out of her bunk and dressed herself. She wouldn’t be able to sleep after that.The sun was just beginning to rise and there was hardly anyone awake on the ship. Benwick stood at the hull and they nodded to each other when she passed, but they said nothing more. The sun cusped the world in the distance, and the silence with which it entered the day was something sacred. The sky became painted, and the reflected light at the curve of the ocean’s horizon lit up like stars in the water.“Lean any further over that rail and you’ll fall in.”Rokurou was leaning against the wall behind her, smirking at the sun, and Eleanor turned her gaze back to the sea. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”He placed his chin in his hands and closed his demon eye, seeming to concentrate on the distance. “I suppose you could see it that way. Though it just looks like a sunrise to me.”Eleanor’s gaze dropped to the banister below her hand. The wood had been smoothed from the ship’s men constantly running their hands over the railings. On some level, the flowers she had caressed in her dream felt more real. The banister was solid beneath her grip, and she clenched it for some anchor to this reality. Her fingers sought the truth eagerly, threatening splinters.Rokurou pushed off the wall and stood next to her, putting his elbows on the railing next to her hand. He was staring at her. Eleanor could feel his gaze, even see him out of the corner of her eye, but she didn’t want to meet his gaze. He stared at her for what felt like a long time as the sun slowly began to lift further in the sky. It cast its rays over their faces, and Eleanor squinted against the light.Finally, Rokurou turned his eyes back to the ocean. “So,” he said. “What’s wrong?”Eleanor felt the blood rushing to her cheeks. He always caught her in these moods, and she found herself wishing that he wouldn’t ask. The grief inside of her felt like a private affair. “Nothing,” she said. “I’m fine.”Rokurou chuckled. “Yeah, like I’ll believe that one.” They stared out at the ocean together in silence, letting the salty wind pick up tendrils of their hair to wrap them around their faces. Rokurou broke the silence first, as they both knew he would. “Look, I’m not going to stand here and pretend I know what you’re going through right now. I know that the things we’ve done these past few days are probably weighing on you.”“I suppose that’s one way of putting it.” Eleanor turned her face away from him entirely, pretending to watch a gull which had landed on the other end of the ship. She didn’t want to talk about it. She had already accepted what had happened, and though her heart ached for what could have been, she wanted to move on. “I’m fine, really, so you don’t have to worry about me.”“I’m not asking you to be honest with me, Eleanor. I know it’s not my business.”“It’s not.”“I know.”Somehow, they had ended up here again. Rokurou was the first person to ask her how she was coping with the path she chose, and she had chased him off then, too. She sighed, and though she hadn’t looked at Rokurou the whole time they’d been leaning against the railings, she could feel him watching her again. He knew she wouldn’t turn to look at him, but he watched her anyway.“You know, you don’t have to stare at me like that. I’m not going to jump or anything.”Rokurou tore his eyes from her at her request, watching instead the gull that had landed as it swooped towards the waves to secure its breakfast. “If you did, I would catch you.”Eleanor stole a glance his way. He must have been training before coming over to her. His jacket was discarded further down the boat, and though his neck and arms were glistening in the morning sun with beads of sweat, his shirt was dry. He must have put it on before heading towards her. Eleanor’s cheeks pinkened rapidly, and she looked away to clear the thoughts from her head. “That would be a selfish thing to do.”“I don’t care.” He placed his hand on her shoulder, and at the sudden contact Eleanor felt a surge of emotion course through her. Pain for her dead friends, longing for a life she refused, fear for what lay ahead of them. She spun, meeting his eye.“Don’t touch me,” she whispered. The wind had blown the hair from Rokurou’s face, revealing the markings that branded him as a demon. She had seen it plenty of times before, but each time it brought new chills to her frame. The deep red of his eye and the violent, slash-like markings brought her dream back to her; Velvet’s violent eyes, the claws in her neck, and the life force being sucked from her own body.Rokurou’s brows knitted in concern, his lips taking their familiar hard line as he attempted to decipher her expression. She slapped his arm away. “Don’t touch me!” she said again, louder though not quite a shout. Not loud enough for anyone to hear but themselves. Recoiling from his touch, she squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to see it. It was the last thing she and Teresea had in common, this hatred for demons.She wouldn’t forget it again. He was a demon, too.And she was the crybaby exorcist. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she retreated into the ship’s interior. She left Rokurou with his arm outstretched, his eyes wide. He looked so human, and she couldn’t bear to stand beside him any longer.She found the storeroom empty and lowered herself into a corner. She pressed her cheeks into her knees and let her tears wet them. They flowed easily, and Eleanor bit her lower lip to stop from sobbing. It was just too much. The more she thought about Rokurou, abandoned on the deck, the harder she cried. A small voice in the back of her mind asked her why she pushed him away, but she knew why. It was because he was a demon, and she was supposed to hate them. She did hate them.Which is why she didn’t dare ask herself how things would be if he were human. They all knew Titania was a trap going in, but Eleanor clutched her spear all the same. She followed Velvet through the prison the same as always, but the tension hanging over the island was unlike anything she’d followed her through before. It was full of exorcists—of voices she knew, of people she had once fought beside. She sent her spear through another exorcist and was grateful for the helmets they all wore. It helped her separate her emotions from the task at hand. However, some voices were familiar. The exorcist Eleanor had just run through died with her name on their lips, but she pushed the act from her mind before the girl could even hit the ground. There wasn’t time now to mourn. To achieve her selfish desire, to know the truth, she had to do this.Beside her, Rokurou cut down yet another enemy. She had been avoiding looking in his direction since their encounter on the Van Eltia, but for the sake of her guilty heart she decided to steal a glance his way. He was grinning while striking at his foes. The war demon in him was fully revealed while they fought, and it made Eleanor struggle for breath. He could be truly terrifying.He looked up, feeling her eyes on him, and she looked away immediately.Kamoana and the other therions followed them into the hall after the room was cleared, and Prince Percival came to follow behind Eleanor. It was instinct for the both of them—for him to follow behind an exorcist, and for her to protect royalty. As they turned the corner to head towards the docks, a demon lept out at them. Reflexively, Eleanor stepped in front of the Prince.“Your Highness, get back!”She didn’t have time to lift her spear. The second she pushed Percival out of the way was the only second she had to spare. Wide eyed, lifting her spear in what she knew wouldn’t be enough time to block, she regretted it.The demon’s head hit the floor beside her. The body was so close that blood splattered on the shoulder of her jacket, and she stood, stunned. The headless body fell forward and she stepped back, letting it land at her feet. Rokurou stepped over it with little regard, his eyes narrowed at the demon’s body as though he could spit at it.His eyes darted to the blood on her shoulder and his expression softened immediately. “Eleanor, are you alright?” He said, raising his hand as though to inspect her shoulder but stopping in the air between them. He pulled it back quickly. Her own words echoed in the air between them. Don’t touch me. “It’s not mine,” she said hesitantly, wrapping her arms around herself and pressing the palm of her glove to the fresh blood. She couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m okay.” Her heart ached. In the split second when she thought she would die, it wasn’t protecting Percival she regretted. It was this.The others had cleared up the rest of the room, and Velvet was watching them with a hand on her hip, obviously waiting. “Come on, you three. Remember that we’re in a hurry.”“R-right. Sorry.”Rokurou hesitated for a moment, looking like he had something to say to Percival, but he sheathed his swords and turned to move on. “Don’t throw yourself at danger so willingly. Your life is no less valuable than his.”Eleanor wanted to protest, but stopped herself. Rokurou was already walking away, and she was racked with guilt. Don’t touch me. Her heart demanded her attention, but she refused to think on it.“Ooh, a lover’s quarrel?” Magilou stepped up beside Eleanor, her arms behind her head and a smile spreading across her face. Even under all the pressure, Magilou didn’t seem to be bothered.Eleanor almost tripped into her own spear. “No, of course not! It’s not like that,” she explained, her cheeks growing red. “I just—we just—I mean I would never—““Now, now, don’t say never,” Magilou said. Her eyes were on the back of Rokurou’s head. “He might hear you.”“I don’t see why…” Eleanor followed Magilou’s gaze. She was sure he couldn’t hear them, but even so, she lowered her voice to a whisper. “I don’t see why that would be any of your concern.”“Oh, it’s not. Why, does it matter to you, after all?” She winked, and Eleanor pressed a palm to her forehead.“Magilou…”“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t interfere. Besides, don’t you think putting in the effort would be totally not my style?”Eleanor found herself believing Magilou, and a short flood of relief washed over her. She wasn’t sure what to do, herself. She didn’t feel like she was wrong—she couldn’t be, all she did was push away a demon—but whenever she remembered the look on his face, the slight part of his lips as he reached out to her, the way his hand stayed outstretched towards her, trying to make sense of her words, Eleanor was overcome with guilt and shame. She wanted to fix this, desperately, but she didn’t understand why she felt it was so, so broken. They were staying behind. Once the Van Eltia set sail there was little hope for their party to escape, but before they could even make an attempt they were intercepted. It had been weeks since Eleanor had last heard Artorius’s voice, and now it sent chills up her spine. When Shigure stepped out from behind him, Eleanor turned her attention away from the enemy to look at Rokurou. His jaw was tight so she knew he was grinding his teeth. His clenched fists, his barely contained scowl—he was trying to hold back. She watched him try to keep reason for half a second, and then it was immediately thrown to the wind.He charged forward, his demon eye blazing, and their swords clashed. As much as she wanted to interfere, to help Rokurou in any way she could, she knew she couldn’t. When Laphicet had tried to help him in his fight with Kurogane, Rokurou had turned on him in a second. She had to let him fight this battle himself. Artorius ordered Shigure to stand back, and there was a sudden bright light.A child stood before them—a child named Innominat.“It can’t be,” Velvet mumbled under her breath before started forward. “That’s—“Eleanor watched the events unfolding before her with wide eyes, fighting to keep up. The child was Velvet’s brother. Innominat had already been awakened. Rokurou ran at him, sword drawn, and was thrown aside like trash. The two halves of his sword snapped away from each other, and Eleanor ran to where he had fallen. “Rokurou!”He turned to her, and she froze as the burning red of his eye stared back at her. She took a step back, fearing he would turn on her, but he shook his head and the lust for battle was pushed back. He looked at her with clear eyes, reaching for her. “No! Get back!”The ground beneath her, beneath all of them, became Innominat’s mouth. Eleanor screamed.She couldn’t feel her legs as they were pulled into the gaping emptiness beneath them. She heard Laphicet call Velvet’s name and her heart immediately sunk. Her head whipped around wildly, searching, until she saw the tip of his sword over the tendrils of black threatening to consume them all.“Rokurou!”The next moment, she was laying on the ground. Gasping, she reached for her legs. She could feel them again, like pins and needles as though the circulation had been momentarily cut off. She breathed a sigh of relief, but then quickly got to her feet and began looking around. “Where is this place?”Eleanor’s eyes scanned over the bare, unearthly landscape before finding Laphicet collapsed on the ground. She carefully checked to make sure he was all right, but he wasn’t waking up. He had expended an enormous amount of energy to get them this far. “Thank you,” she told him quietly. “We’re all alive because of you.”“We aren’t safe yet.” Eleanor turned to find Velvet, who was standing still as a board. She wasn’t even looking in their direction. She was staring off somewhere in the distance, just watching the nothingness pass them by. “They’ll come after us. Innominat. Laphi. Artorius. We have to kill them, same as how we killed so many to get here.” Her head snapped to the child, though her eyes still seemed far away. She was cracking. “Wake him the hell up, we have to fight.”Eleanor’s hands were shaking. She couldn’t believe anything that had just happened, not yet. “I’m trying, but I think he needs to rest. He expended a lot of energy and—““He can rest when we’re dead!”Velvet started towards them and Eleanor clutched Laphicet’s head to her chest as though to protect him. “No! Leave it, Velvet. No one is going to die, we’ll get out of this just fine.” Eleanor’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking. She hardly believed her own words. “We just need to find the others.”“To Hell with the others,” Velvet spat. “People are going to die today, Eleanor, you fool.” She turned on her, venom in her voice. Her demon arm was flexing for a fight, but it was her eyes that were truly terrifying. “I’m going to kill them all!”“We have to find Rokurou and the othe—““Oh, shut up about your little boyfriend! I don’t need him. I don’t need you. I just need to kill them. It’s too late to turn back now.”Velvet talked herself into a trance, and under any other circumstances Eleanor would turn red and debate the comment she had made, but it didn’t matter now. Eleanor was angry. Furious, even, at Velvet’s lashing out, but there was nothing she could do about it. She had no idea how Velvet must have felt. All Eleanor could do was try to wake Laphicet, and pray that the others were okay. They traveled through the strange area, tension rising as the earth pulse began showing records of Velvet’s life. It all felt so private, and Eleanor wanted to avert her eyes but found that she couldn’t. Velvet only grew angrier as they continued, and Eleanor grew more anxious. They hadn’t found the others yet. There wasn’t an exit in sight yet either, and they couldn’t be sure that there was one.As another memory came to a close, Rokurou chimed in from behind them. “What was that?” he asked, his dark eyes trying to make sense of the images before him. Eizen walked up beside him, and before Eleanor could stop herself she was walking towards the both of them. She flung her arms around their shoulders, burying her face between them.“I’m so glad you guys made it,” she said.Eizen chuckled, his stiff muscles relaxing after a moment. “Of course we did.”Rokurou was motionless, and Eleanor pulled away from them quickly. She could feel the blush spreading across her face. “S-sorry, I’m just… relieved.”Rokurou’s eyes were wide and his body still stiff. One of his arms hovered like he had thought about embracing her but couldn’t bring himself to do it. Eleanor quickly turned around and walked back towards Laphicet and Velvet, who seemed to be getting more annoyed by the second.“Come on,” Velvet said. “Let’s go.”They ran onward, but there had been no sign of Magilou. Knowing the witch, she may have slipped out without them, but they searched for her all the same. They fought their way through the earth pulse until encountering a much different enemy. This large demon charged at them, but they turned their blades on it all the same. Eleanor had become used to the constant fighting she and her companions had fallen into the rhythm of, and on some level, she had become numb.But the cries Velvet let out as she fought were not the same. They were desperate more than they were angry, her claw searching for things beyond its grasp. It threw Eleanor’s focus off, bringing her back to the scared, worried girl who had joined them in the first place. Now more than ever, she was afraid to lose the people she was fighting with. The anxiety of the fight ran her blood cold, but the pads of her fingerless gloves kept her spear from slipping from the sweat of her palms.Defeated, the monster fell. The corpse it left behind, however, was a mirror of Velvet.As Velvet fell into despair, Innominat rose from the earth before them. Eleanor stepped back, her heart racing. It was all too much. The emotions coursing through her, through all of them, were just too much. Velvet consented to die. Innominat threw open his hand, casting a large magic circle around Velvet, and it erupted like a geyser. Eleanor watched as her body went limp.All Eleanor could do was watch. Laphicet moved. He grabbed her hand and began yelling at her, trying to talk her down. Eleanor tried to dig the butt of her spear into the ground, but the current on Innominat’s arte was too much. She felt it slipping. She tried to step back, but the current swept her up. She stumbled forward and cried out, but just as her feet left the ground her hand was grasped. She locked panicked eyes with Rokurou, who was pulling her back to him with all his might.“No you don’t,” he groaned, yanking her into his arms. He collapsed on top of her, cradling her head to his chest so he wouldn’t slam her skull against the ground. The whirlwind pulled them along, threatening to drag them both further into the circle.Eleanor had to yell in his ear so her voice would travel. The wind was ripping her voice from her lips. “It’s pulling us in!”Rokurou gently released her head to grab a dagger and plunged it deep into the earth on the other side of her. “Grab onto me,” he yelled. His eyes were burning into hers with an intensity she had never seen before. “No matter what happens, don’t let go. I’ll protect you.” Don’t touch me , she had said. Why had she said such a stupid, stupid thing when they could die at any moment?She wrapped her arms around his back, burying her face in the crook of his neck so she could hear him if he tried to say anything more. Over his shoulder she watched Eizen grab Laphicet and tell him to talk some sense into Velvet. Rokurou’s dagger threatened to slip from the ground and he readjusted it. “Come on, kid, shorten it to twenty words or less,” he groaned, but only Eleanor could hear him. His breathing was heavy and hot against her ear, and despite the situation she felt her cheeks turning pink. His arms were shaking with the effort of pushing them against the earth. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold out,” he yelled.Eleanor pulled her head back so she could look at him. Really look at him, not from the edge of her eye, and not while he was looking away. “I’m sorry, Rokurou,” she said. She felt tears forming again, but the harsh winds of Innominat’s arte swept them away. “I wish I could take it all back.”Rokurou looked confused, and when he realized what she meant he shook his head. “That doesn’t matter now.”“Rokurou, I—“Her words were trapped by his lips. He was kissing her. Eleanor pushed her lips harder against his, desperate to get as much of this as possible before they were swept to their death. His face was wet with her tears, but he kept kissing her.She didn’t want it to end like this.Over the ripping wind, Eleanor could just hear Velvet yelling. She was admitting to her pain, opening her heart to someone else after years of closing it away. Rokurou and Eleanor collapsed on top of each other as the arte broke, and then quickly they stood and separated. Eleanor couldn’t feel her own pulse, but she could hear it vibrating in her ears. Rokurou had kissed her. She had kissed him back.Velvet ran forward, forcing open the way out, and they ran for it. They were avoiding each other. Or, rather, Eleanor was avoiding Rokurou.They had made it to Meirchio without speaking. It had all been such a whirlwind that they hadn’t had time, even if she had wanted to talk about it. Just that morning she had seen him at the weapon’s dealer, and as soon as he looked up she walked briskly away to her room. She heard him attempting to follow her and nearly broke out into a run, closing the door of the inn behind her. He never followed her in.She sat on the edge of her bed for an hour, her fingertips pressed against her lips. What was that? Did he kiss her just because they were going to die, or did he actually mean something by it? Certainly not the latter; it was more likely that it didn’t mean anything at all and she was overthinking it.Eleanor fell back on her bed with her head in her hands. “This is just too much,” she said quietly. Her body ached. It had been too long since she had last had a proper bath, and everyone was already going on about the amazing hot springs in this town. The thought of it lifted her mood a little. Even under normal circumstances she would be excited at the thought of a hot spring. She undid her pigtails slowly, careful not to tangle the bands even further. The style had left a considerable wave in her hair, and she pushed on it gently, feeling some relief of tension.She found the bath easily, stepping into the women’s. At least she wouldn’t be subjected to a mixed bath. She lowered herself into the water slowly, letting the heat ease her muscles. Her shoulder was sore from constantly working her spear, and she winced as the hot water touched it, but as the pain began to lessen she sighed.Magilou’s voice was in her ear. “It’s nice, right?”Eleanor started, her arms instinctively covering herself beneath the water. Magilou laughed.“Oh come on now, I’m not some sort of deviant.” She cocked her head at Eleanor teasingly, making a show of her eyes traveling down beneath the water. “Not quite as big as Velvet, hmm?”“Magilou!” Eleanor clutched her arms around her chest, leaning away from the other woman. “That’s not very appropriate.”“Oh, come one, at least you have me beat. I mean look at me!” She gestured at her own chest, where Eleanor was certainly not looking. She was very focused on a very interesting plant in the opposite direction. Magilou continued. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m 90% sure that the men we’re traveling with are more into hips.” She paused, and Eleanor felt her blush growing more intense. She shifted away from Magilou. “Hmm, yeah I think you win in that department. Lucky you.”“Stop it,” Eleanor said, splashing some of the water in Magilou’s direction. “It’s not right to harass others in the bath. I have half a mind to get you kicked out.”“Don’t do that,” Magilou said, standing. “I’m on my way out, anyway.” She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself, winking back at Eleanor who was chin deep in the water. “I’m just messin’ with ya, kiddo. In all seriousness if you have any guy problems you can talk to me, alright? Just don’t expect too much.”Eleanor watched her leave, and once she was gone Eleanor was alone. She sighed deeply, relaxing her shoulders and leaning against the edge of the bath. “Guy problems, huh?” she muttered. Her mind wandered back to Rokurou kissing her, pressing his body against hers and telling her that he would protect her. She sunk lower into the water.“Eleanor, are you still there?”She shot straight up in the water, the startled splash confirming that yes, she was still here. She covered herself in the water and turned around, where a large wooden fence divided the baths. The men’s bath must be on the other side. Rokurou spoke to her through the divider.“You don’t need to say anything. Just hear me out, please.”Eleanor just stared at the wall between them, unmoving. She couldn’t bring herself to respond. At least, from the sound of his voice he was facing away from the wall. That somehow made her more comfortable. She slowly lowered herself back into the water, her back to the fence as well.Rokurou sighed, and there was the sound of water drops that probably meant he was pushing back his hair. “I’m really, really sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, but I thought we were going to die and I didn’t have time to put my thoughts in order and I just—I just wanted you to know before we were gone. I shouldn’t have done it that way.”A long silence passed between them. Eleanor thought of things to say, of questions to ask, but she wouldn’t know how to phrase them.“Eleanor, I’m not saying I regret it. I don’t want you to think I did it just because we both thought it was the end, or that you should shrug it off like it didn’t mean anything to me because it did. I just… probably could have found a better time.”Eleanor was burning up. She was clutching her body so tightly that she was slowly losing feeling in her fingertips, and the red on her skin was more than just the heat of the water. Rokurou’s words echoed in her mind, and she found her voice. Softly, she spoke. “What was it you wanted me to know?” Rokurou was quiet, and Eleanor kept going. “You said you wanted me to know before we were gone. What did you want me to know?”Rokurou said her name gently, and the sounds of water on the other side of the wall indicated that he had turned towards her. “I would rather tell you to your face, if that’s alright with you. I know it’s selfish of me, but—““Hey, Rokurou!”Quick splashing through the wall meant he had turned back around to face whoever had just entered the men’s bath. He cleared his throat. “Hey, Benwick.”A pause. Eleanor guessed that Benwick was looking around the bath. “Who were you talking to?”“Myself,” Rokurou said casually. “Care to join me?” Benwick laughed, and Eleanor took it as her cue to leave. Eleanor wasn’t at the inn when Rokurou got back. He sighed and joined Eizen at a table in the far corner. Eizen glanced up as he made his way over, and slid the bottle of alcohol he had already prepared across the table towards him. Rokurou took his seat and poured himself a drink. They sat in silence, passing the bottle back and forth.The door to the inn opened, and Eleanor stepped in hesitantly, looking around the room like she was trying to hide from someone. She paused briefly when she saw him, her eyes wide, and then she averted her gaze and walked briskly across the inn towards the girls’ room. She kept her head down, but Rokurou could see the pink that intensified her face.He wanted to get up and follow her, but he knew she would probably just run away again. So instead he poured another drink.Eizen leaned back in his chair, watching Rokurou drink. “I’m guessing you two spoke?”Rokurou put his glass back on the table. “I don’t know what you mean. Spoke about what?”“You know what.”They stared at each other for a long moment, while Rokurou sorted out his thoughts. Finally, he leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. “So, you saw, then.”“I did.”Eizen poured another drink for him, and Rokurou took it, silently toasting him before downing it. “I guess we spoke. If you could call me cornering her in the bath speaking.”Eizen narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. “Now that’s awfully vague. Don’t tell me, you two—““No, no, no,” Rokurou said, nearly choking on his drink. “No, that’s not what I meant at all, you know that!”Eizen chuckled, crossing his arms. “I had assumed. So, what did you find out?”Rokurou closed his eyes, trying to recall what he had heard before he began his confession. “Well, Velvet’s got the largest chest, but we already knew that. Eleanor’s got the nicest hips, and Magilou thinks we’re both hip guys.”“She’s not wrong.”“No, she’s not.”Eizen’s gaze turned more critical. “But what did Eleanor say to you? How does she feel?”“Why don’t you ask me how I feel?” Rokurou commented, leaning his chin in a hand. “Aren’t you curious about why I kissed her? It could have just been a moment of passion, you know. Nothing to talk about at all, really.”“I don’t have to do that. It’s obvious already that you love her.”“Wow now, no need to be so bold.” Rokurou’s heart lept into his throat. He hadn’t said so much aloud himself. “And besides, none of that matters if she’s going to keep running away from me like this. Even when I was trying to explain why I did it, she was quiet.” He thought back to the Van Eltia, to her slapping his hand away like he disgusted her. He was a demon, after all. “She probably just wants me to leave her alone.”They each poured another drink, sipping in silence as they contemplated the situation they found themselves in.“Let me ask you this,” Eizen started. His clear blue eyes cut through Rokurou. “Do you regret it?”“No.” He answered without hesitation. “If I had to do it over again and again, I would kiss her every time. Without that, I wouldn’t have had the strength to hold on.”“Then talk to her. Make sure that tomorrow, when you face your brother, you have no regrets.” Eleanor woke in the middle of the night. The inn was quiet, and the sun had not yet risen. She tossed and turned in her bed, but sleep would not come to her. She quietly tiptoed out of the room and down the hall to the front. She poured herself a glass of water and sat at the bar for a moment, pulling the hair off the back of her neck and into a single ponytail. She only took it down to bathe and sleep nowadays, and the hair touching her neck bothered her.As she swept up her hair, she caught a whiff of the sweet-smelling soaps she had used in the bath earlier that day. She sighed deeply, remembering Rokurou’s words. He didn’t consider it a mistake. He didn’t do it just because of the moment, it was just done in that moment. But that would mean—No. She wouldn’t think about it. Eleanor knew she wasn’t being honest with herself, but she couldn’t be. She knew that if she was, it would ruin all the ideals she had held her entire life. Rokurou was a demon, and demons had destroyed towns, they had run humanity to the brink, and they had killed her mother. There was no way she could love a demon.Eleanor froze in her seat. Love? Why would she think that? Her heart sped with panic. Just because she thought it didn’t mean it was true, of course, but she had thought it all the same. She needed fresh air. Eleanor made her way across the tavern and through the front door of the inn, into the night. The fresh snow crunched beneath her feet, unwalked by anyone but herself. Her breath steamed as it escaped her lips, and the chill of the air threatened to raw her throat. It cleared her mind.The streets of Meirchio were dimly lit with the most amazing street lamps, their colored light pooling in the snow, twinkling like the sea. Eleanor walked into the snow, leaving the indent of her boots as the only marks upon the pristine world she had stepped into. The ocean, despite the cold, waded to the low barrier the townspeople had built to keep out the tide. Eleanor leaned her elbows on this wall, squinting at the horizon to see the faintest trace of light. The waves here were much calmer than they were out at sea.Eleanor found herself wishing that the sun wouldn’t rise. The next day was going to change everything. They were either going to defeat the rest of the legates and awaken the empyreans, or they were all going to die. They were going to fight Melchior… and they were going to fight Shigure.“Lean any further over that rail and you’ll fall in.”Eleanor spun rapidly, now trapped against the barrier. Rokurou approached her slowly, his boots crunching against the snow. He walked up next to her and leaned on the wall, staring out at the horizon as the sun peaked over its waves. Eleanor turned slowly, her eyes on Rokurou, and joined him in facing the sea. Somewhere in the distance, a bird began its song.Eleanor inspected his face as he stared off into the water. His eyes slid towards hers, meeting her gaze, and he averted them again. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I won’t trap you here and force you to listen, but… I want you to.”“I shouldn’t have run away from you,” she said. “I’m sorry.”“Don’t be.”Eleanor clenched her fists on the barrier, trying to silence the voice in her head that was begging her to please, run away from this. That last shred of the old her, who had joined the Abbey with confidence in her future. The last bit of herself that hadn’t yet been proven wrong.But she wouldn’t run away this time. She had been running from the truth of things her entire life, and slowly, one by one, the truth had begun to reveal itself. What the Abbey aimed to do was detain the will of humanity; this was the truth. Lord Artorius had sacrificed his own brother to awaken Innominat; this was the truth.If Rokurou had not kissed her at that time, she would have kissed him instead. This was the truth.Eleanor’s hands were shaking. She brushed snow off the top of the barrier absently, waiting for him to break the silence. After a few seconds, she looked back at him, and he looked conflicted. His jaw was tight, and his back stiff. He didn’t know how to start, she realized. He had waited all this time to tell her and now that she was here, he was at a loss for words.Slowly, Eleanor moved her shaking fingers across the barrier. She hovered above his hand, her heart in her throat, and pressed her cold fingers against his. She watched his face as it lit up with shock, his eyes darting first to his hand and then to her.She smiled at him with more confidence than she felt. “I’m listening.”“Tomorrow, I….” The cold had dried his throat, and he cleared it. “Tomorrow, I’m not sure what will happen. If I fail to kill Shigure and I die, I’ll be okay with that. But I don’t want to leave behind any regrets.” Rokurou’s eyes bore into hers, and she stared back. “And right now, I have only one.”“You’re not going to die,” Eleanor said, the corner of her lips tugging up despite herself. “You’ll have all of us fighting beside you.”“And I have something to fight for,” he said. He wove their fingers together and reached for her other hand, and she gave it to him. Holding both their hands between them, he took a deep breath. “Do you remember when you first boarded the Van Eltia with us? I saw you standing on the deck alone, fighting within yourself, and I asked if you were afraid of demons.”A grin broke out across his face at the memory, and Eleanor felt her own face turning red. She remembered, all right—she told him she despised them and to keep his pity, and he told her that he would. “I… remember.”“Well,” he said. “Your voice was shaking despite your conviction. These hands of your were clenched as tight as you could stand it, and you walked away without ever facing me.”Eleanor’s eyes fell to the snow, and Rokurou released one of her hands to gently tilt her chin back up towards him. “You didn’t face me because you were crying, weren’t you?”Eleanor’s breathing hitched. She nodded slowly, embarrassed that she had been found out all that time ago. “From that moment, it was all over for me. I decided that I never wanted to see you cry again, and once I realized that I wanted to be the one to stop it I just about lost my mind. I mean it’s crazy, right? A demon and an exorcist?”Despite her nerves, Eleanor found herself laughing. “It’s pretty crazy,” she said, “but I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing.”“Eleanor…”Her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears that she almost didn’t hear him. She blinked a few times, almost unable to believe that she’d heard anything at all. But his lips had moved, forming those words that she had feared for the past few days. The words that would throw her philosophy to the wind.“I love you, Eleanor.”Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes and quickly overflowed. They watched each other, she crying silently and his eyes narrowed, trying to decipher what kind of tears these were. Eleanor’s brain frantically told her to sort out her feelings, to think about this rationally, to remind her that he was a demon, but her heart was already speaking, filling the air between them with a soft whisper.“I love you, too.”All her walls came crashing down. Rokurou leaned in to kiss her and she closed her eyes, parting her lips for his. They kissed slowly, with a luxury that they hadn’t been able to previously afford. Rokurou wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, and the rising sun warmed their faces as the day began anew.Rokurou held her cheek delicately in his hand and pulled away from the kiss, keeping their faces close. He rubbed his thumb over her tears, her wide, green eyes staring unwavering back at him. “You don’t need to cry anymore,” he whispered. “I’ll always be here for you.”Eleanor wrapped her arms around him, pulling him to herself and holding him for a few long moments. Rokurou’s heart skipped a beat at her movement, and slowly he embraced her. It was unreal, for both of them, but as the sun rose and the town awoke with it, Rokurou and Eleanor stayed in that spot. They sat perched on the wall, both of their faces lit with smiles and their conversation laced with laughter and poorly veiled flirting. They stayed together, in pure bliss, until Velvet gathered the party to move forward.Rokurou grabbed Eleanor’s hand as they slid off the wall, pulling her to his chest before she could escape. “I hope you didn’t plan on keeping this a secret,” he whispered, before planting another kiss on her lips.Laphicet gasped, and Eleanor pulled away, her face beet red. “It—It’s not—” she started, waving her hands frantically in front of her.“Oh, it’s not what now?” Magilou, a devilish grin plastered across her face, stood beside Laphicet and Eizen. Velvet stood on the other side, looking uncharacteristically flustered and red.Eleanor stuttered, her face full of absolute panic. She heard Rokurou chuckle beside her and he put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his chest. “Well, what else could it be?” he asked. His eyes slid to the woman in his arms, a smirk making its way across his lips. “We’re in love, aren’t we?”Eleanor threw her hands up, her face turning impossibly redder. “I—We—”Rokurou put his hand over his chest, faking shock, but he couldn’t wipe the smirk from his face. “Or are you breaking up with me already?” He winked at her, and if he hadn’t still been holding her with one arm her knees would have given out beneath her.“Rokurou.” Eizen was smiling, but he interjected all the same. “Cut the poor girl a break.”Eleanor could only whimper. She had intended on keeping it a secret to some degree, at least until their journey was resolved, but she had never expected this.Velvet spun, her own face red. She was unused to such situations. “Let’s just get a move on!” she said, making her way out of town at a brisk pace.Rokurou laughed deeply and started forward, releasing Eleanor to place a kiss on her head. “Come on, babe. Let’s get started.” He followed the others quickly catching up to Eizen, who shook his head before patting Rokurou on the back.Eleanor stood in the snow, the brisk air cooling her head. No matter what happened this day, or the next day, or the days following forever after that; she had no regrets.
10669299	Mirror Image	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Khadgar, Kinsale, Kalec - Character, Modera", "Fandom": "World of Warcraft", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by kinsale_42", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-19T00:00:00", "words": "522", "Additional Tags": "Trans Male Character, Shapeshifting, Coming Out", "Relationship": "Khadgar (Warcraft)/Original Character(s)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Khadgar", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The lean, muscular paladin strode into the reception hall of the Violet Citadel, turning the heads of several of the mages and various staff that occupied the room. His face colored slightly, but he held his head high and walked straight up to Khadgar. “Khadgar, I’ve brought that book back that you loaned me.” He held it up. His voice was warm and smooth, with just a hint of darkness to the tone. Modera, who had been talking with Khadgar when this unrecognized crusader had brought a hush over the reception hall, was reminded of someone else’s voice, someone she couldn’t quite place. “Ah, excellent! Well, you know where it goes.” Khadgar smiled and winked at this newcomer. The paladin nodded and headed towards a bookcase on the far wall to replace the tome in its usual location. A murmur rose in the vast hall as some folk returned to their business and others began to confer aloud about this man that Khadgar obviously knew but nobody else seemed to recall. And he was not young. Not a new recruit. He had surely seen four decades if he had seen a day, and moved with the grace and control of a well-trained fighter.Modera couldn’t help but ask. “Who’s your friend, Khadgar?” With some effort, Khadgar tore his gaze from the broad shoulders and wavy chestnut hair of the person in question, and turned back to his colleague. “That? Oh, that’s Kinsale.” Modera’s face registered complete astonishment as she looked from Khadgar to the paladin, and back to Khadgar again. “Khadgar, talk sense.” He shrugged slightly. “There was a thing...some shapeshifting. She thinks she might like to stay that way. I suppose we should reconsider her pronouns.” Modera was skeptical. “But you and she…I don’t understand.” Khadgar’s eyebrows went up and his mouth puckered comically, wordlessly indicating that he didn’t mind at all. At that moment, Kalec entered the hall from one of the chambers behind the grand staircase. He saw Kinsale browsing the titles of the other books on the shelf next to the replaced volume and went over to engage in what appeared to be amiable conversation. By this time, Modera was past the point of being surprised. “And Kalec already knows about this,” she observed. “Who do you think taught her to shapeshift?” Khadgar’s eyes twinkled as he said it. He watched his friend and his lover as they turned together and crossed the room back to where Khadgar and Modera were standing. Kinsale inclined his head in a belated greeting to Modera before turning his green and gold eyes to Khadgar. “I will see you at dinner?” Khadgar nodded, and was interested to see Kinsale flush an even deeper shade of rose. He had only a moment to wonder why, because all mystery soon evaporated when Kinsale leaned in and kissed him a swift, sweet farewell. The chamber fell silent for a brief moment, and then a round of applause filled the air, seemingly started by Kalec. Khadgar winked again at his favorite paladin, who allowed a shy grin before he turned and left the Citadel.
10688517	i got the recipe and its	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Min Yoongi \| Suga, Kim Seokjin \| Jin, Kim Taehyung \| V, Park Jimin (BTS), Jeon Jungkook, Park Chanyeol, Kim Namjoon \| Rap Monster, Jung Hoseok \| J-Hope", "Fandom": "방탄소년단 \| Bangtan Boys \| BTS", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by feels_train", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-23T00:00:00", "words": "3,197", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Love Potion/Spell, I tried to be funny, i know i failed, At least I tried, Dad Jokes, jin is a resident flirt, yoongi spoils jungkook", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Kim Seokjin \| Jin/Min Yoongi \| Suga, Jeon Jungkook/Kim Seokjin \| Jin, Jeon Jungkook & Min Yoongi \| Suga, Kim Taehyung \| V & Park Jimin", "Series": "Brewing Feelings 101", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	"Hey, Jimin."Jimin huffs, dropping his quill on the table before crossing his arms. He knows he should face Taehyung right now because unlike him, the younger doesn't know when to give up, "I'm doing our homework, Taehyung. Make it fast,"Taehyung grins, satisfied at the attention, "I have an ide--""No,"Taehyung frowns, "Why not?""It's stupid," Jimin shakes his head, picking up his quill and continuing bullshitting his way in his and Taehyung's essay on Herbology."I'm not even finished," Taehyung whines.Jimin hums, "But is it not stupid?"Taehyung presses his lips into a thin line."No," Jimin sighs, "I'm not going to do it,"The older continues scribbling on his parchment, fully intent on ignoring the presence of his friend, standing beside him.After a few minutes of him and his distracted writing, he finally succumbs to the temptation of redirecting his focus towards Taehyung, "What?" he asks annoyed.Taehyung only shrugs before his lips pull into a smile. And God, Jimin absolutely hated that smile. Because that was the smile Taehyung wears when he knows he won or would win. That was the smile Taehyung wears when he knows Jimin, small, submissive Jimin, will bend to his will in the end. Jimin hated being reminded how weak he is for his best friend."I hate you," Jimin says brokenly."Shh," Taehyung hushes him, pressing an index finger to his lips for emphasis, "Silence in the library," ∆∆ "Are you sure about this?" Jimin tugs on Taehyung's robe as they walk towards the Great Hall for breakfast, with the younger having an innocent strawberry shortcake resting on his nimble fingers."Relax, my dear troubled Jimin." Taehyung attempts to soothe him, "It'll be fun!""I don't think us dying is fun,"Taehyung stops in his tracks, letting only one hand hold the dessert and the other rest on his hips. "Look, Chim. You've done your part with stealing hyung's hair and gathering the ingredients for the love potion. So now you just sit back and let me do my job," he lectures, continuing his way to their victim."But I don't want us to die," Jimin mutters, "It's not like Yoongi hyung scolded you for no reason. You're being unfair,""Jiminnie, be quiet." he shushes at the older and they enter the the big doors of the hall, with the morning light illuminating the spacious room filled with chattering wizards and witches, reading their mails and eating their breakfasts."You still helped me. You can't tell me you didn't want to see this, too." Taehyung reminds him.Jimin pressed his lips into a thin line. It was true, what Taehyung said. He did want to see a different side to his usually stoic and (e)motionless hyung. He really was meaner than he lets on."Fine," Jimin crossed his arms, "Don't mess up,""I won't," Taehyung shoos him away for him to save their seats on the Gryffindor table and he approaches his half-asleep Yoongi hyung on his Slytherin table.He ignores the weird looks nasty snakeus- he means, Slytherins- give a muggleborn like him. ∆∆ "Jungkook," Yoongi mumbles, eyes closed because of drowsiness, addressing his friend to his left. "I can feel a wild magical creature approaching,""What creatu-" Jungkook glances towards Yoongi's back, "Oh. Hi, Taehyung hyung,""Good morning, Kookie!" Taehyung grins, all sunshine that needed Jungkook to squint to see him, "Good morning, Suga hyung!"Said Suga hyung groans, muttering something along the lines of 'its too early to be this bright what the hell' and 'fuck off'. Taehyung, of course, ignores the older's words."Hyung," he starts extending his hands to offer the shortcake. "I have an apology to make,"Yoongi opens one eye and Taehyung was satisfied to see him listening."My antics were veryyy inappropriate," he sighs, "So I made this for you. I hope you like it and that you accept my apology," he puts down the plate of the dessert on the table (with his right hand's fingers crossed).Yoongi opens both eyes and grunts, "I accept your apology but you really don't expect me to eat that, do you?"Taehyung whines, "Why not? I worked so hard to make it,""Exactly," Yoongi straightens up on his seat, picking up a fork and poking the shortcake. "You made it,"Taehyung huffs, "Fine. I'm going to confess. The kitchen house-elves helped me but I went all the way to request this and to personally give it to you, hyung. Please don't waste my efforts," he cries.Yoongi gives him a side-eye glance before letting out a sigh."Fine. I'll eat it. Go back to where you came from," Yoongi shoos him away.Taehyung squeals, "Yay! Thank you, Suga hyung!" he hugs him a last time before he runs away.Yoongi dusts off his robes in the places Taehyung touched."Can I have some?" Jungkook asks and Yoongi stares at him, mouth stretching into a small smile."Sure," he gives his permission to his adorable, also half-asleep dongsaeng before he digs into the sandwich platter served in front of him.He also takes his time to glance where Taehyung ran off to join his friends. Jimin was pulling on Taehyung's ear and Sungjae was laughing at their antics. He will never admit it out loud but he really appreciated Taehyung's efforts to make up with him.His eyes drifted to another man who was laughing along with the loud group. Kim Seokjin, with his highly amusing windshield laughter, was at the end of the ensemble, clapping on Jimin's back repeatedly in his cackles. It wasn't a secret that the older man started to flirt with him ever since they were in a pair in Potions once, but he will also never admit it out loud that Seokjin is already growing into him.As if sensing his stare, Seokjin returns his gaze and offers him a flying kiss. He averts his eyes immediately."Don't you think Jin hyung looks... considerably lovely today?"The voice distracts him from his pool of shame and he diverts his stare towards his baby-- he means, dongsaeng. Baby dongsaeng. Actually, both works.Yoongi raises an eyebrow at Jungkook's tinted cheeks. "Uh, he does look handsome, I guess?"Jungkook only nods dazedly and Yoongi in return, could only frown in confusion. ∆∆ "Oh mygodohmygodohmygod oh my god," Jimin chants as he runs his fastest run of his whole life, "I can't die yet. I'm too young to die," he desperately prays as he sees a shadow following him in a calm, leisure pace.He hastily enters the Gryffindor common room and scrambles behind a scarlet armchair to catch his breath and his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. Surely, he can't enter the Gryffindor common room without knowing the password, ri--The painting of the Fat Lady slams open and slow footsteps were heard entering the room. Jimin almost screams."So," the gruff voice sent the warm atmosphere of the cozy rest place into a frostbiting temperature. "Where's the midget?""You're a midget yourself," a deep voice comments off-handedly."Not now, Chanyeol hyung."Jimin immediately fills up with hope, surely, Chanyeol hyung loves him enough to preserve his life. He peeks the tiniest bit beside the armchair to see Chanyeol staring at him in pity."Where's Jimin?" Yoongi looks around. Jimin sent Chanyeol his puppy eyes."In my bed," Chanyeol answers, "I ordered him to fix it for me. Can you kill him later, please?"Yoongi sighs, running a hand down through his hair before walking away, his robes swaying beneath his feet in his fearful grace and Jimin almost cries in relief."You lied, Chanyeol hyung. Since when did your bed happen to be this armchair?"Jimin screams. ∆∆ "Let's make a deal, Jiminnie," "Please don't do this to me, Suga hyung," "I won't kill you..." "Oh no," "If you bring to me all the bastards involved in this prank," "Oh my god," ∆∆ Yoongi enters the room they reserved (Seokjin's prefect privileges), dragging a trembling Hoseok by his yellow and black scarf. The sight he came to didn't surprise him. Rooms occupied with Kim Seokjin tend to look like this almost always.Jimin was rolling on the floor, clutching on his stomach and barely breathing. Taehyung was doubled over in an armrest. And Namjoon looked like he was contemplating his life decisions on his own armchair opposite the eldest's couch."I have another one," Seokjin's face was flushed, resisting the urge to laugh at his yet unsaid joke, "What's long, b-brown and- pfft, and ha-hard?"All of them looked at him expectantly."A wand," he spits out before he erupted into a boisterous laughter. Hoseok breaks into a smile of his own and Yoongi, well. Yoongi was a proud immune wizard to Seokjin's dad jokes, no matter how filthy.His eyes drift towards a giggling form latched onto Seokjin's sides with its head resting on the eldest's wide, wide shoulder. Yoongi's temperature increases and he remembers why they were all there in the first place."Jeon Jungkook," he growls. "Get off of him,"The youngest only sends him a dazed smile, showcasing his adorable bunny teeth, "No," and to further prove his point, he wraps his arms around Seokjin's waist and presses closer to him.Yoongi closes his mouth, only then realizing that his jaw was hanging all along. "Wow," he unceremoniously drops Hoseok on the floor before crossing his arms. "Unbelievable,""You're overreacting, Yoongi." Seokjin chuckles, "It's not like Jungkook's trying to kiss me every second of this day. He's just very cuddly," "He only tried to kiss him once," Taehyung helpfully supplies.Yoongi growls at him. "Get him off," he points towards Jungkook and Taehyung knew better than to not comply."Nooo," Jungkook whines, struggling and latching onto Seokjin's arms as Taehyung pulls him the best he can manage, "Leave me alone! I just want to be with Jin hyung!""Taehyung, stop that." Seokjin frowns, "You're hurting Jungkook,"Taehyung rubs his nose that took the brunt of Jungkook's elbow, "I actually think it's the other way around,"Seokjin sighs and throws a pointed look towards the mint haired, "Yoongi, let him be."The one addressed rolls his eyes and casts the Body Freezing Spell on Taehyung. After the squirmish ones (Jimin and Hoseok) were forcefully glued to their seats so they can't escape, Yoongi takes a seat on the long couch in between Jungkook (who whines in protest) and Seokjin (who was eyeing him amusedly)."Um, Yoongi hyung?" Namjoon clears his throat. "You don't really think we could justify ourselves if Taehyung...?"Yoongi reluctantly raises his wand."Suga hyung," Taehyung hides behind Jimin and Hoseok's chairs, "I just wanted to see a different side of you,""If you wanted to see the angry side of me, then congrats. It worked," Yoongi stands up and Taehyung is quick to explain further."No, no! The potion in the cake wasn't for your baby Jungkook! It was for you!"Yoongi stops in his tracks, "How come I wasn't affected when I ate the same cake?""The potion was only in some strawberries," Taehyung says while pointing towards somewhere behind Yoongi.Yoongi turns around and literally hisses. Jungkook was comfortably straddling Seokjin's lap and the eldest has his hands on Jungkook's waist. "Kim Seokjin, fucking die."Seokjin snickers, "God, Yoongi. Calm down! I was pushing Jungkook away," and does as he said."I brewed the potion, Hoseok helped gather the ingredients, Jimin did the same, Taehyung planned all of this. That's it. I'm sorry. We're sorry. Can we go now? I need to study for Transfiguration," Namjoon begs desperately.Yoongi frowns, glancing around the room to see Taehyung, Jimin and Hoseok averting their eyes and looking like kicked puppies, Namjoon about to kneel and Seokjin scruffing Jungkook like another puppy with a blank expression.Yoongi puts his hands on his waist and huffs, "Why does it seem like I'm the one being unreasonable? I'm the one wronged here," he childishly whines."Well, you were supposed to be wronged. But Jungkook took the potion, so no. You weren't the one under the spell," Seokjin smiles at him, placating, disentangling Jungkook's fingers running through his hair. "I don't get why you're so pressed,""It could have been me," Yoongi pouts, pointing to himself and approaching the pair, "Is no one really going to point out just how evil you guys are to prank me to what? See a different side of me?""Maybe Namjoon hyung has an antidote?" Jimin squeaks when the mint haired glares at him."He doesn't," Hoseok answers for him, "And brewing time takes longer than the actual lasting effect of the potion. It's best to just wait it out. It's only a day at most," Yoongi unconsciously throws a worried look on Jungkook's direction and Seokjin chose it to be the time to be a dumbass."Just forgive them, Yoongi," he flashes his best butter-wouldn't-melt smile. "They're sorry even if it isn't obvious. We could just have a date in Hogsmeade for me to make you feel like how you should be treated! Which is way better than how these idiots would!""Why would I want to go to a date with a pedophile like you?" the mint-haired snarls. "At least get their house points deducted,""But you also entered the Gryffindo-""We're leaving," he interrupts and drags a trashing around Jungkook back to his classes. ∆∆ Yoongi was walking through the empty hallways, letting the calm, rhythmic pattern of his and Jungkook's footsteps soothe him. Classes has just ended.He had been very stressed about the amount of schoolwork combined with the ruckus Taehyung had executed. Never mind the stress to his well-kept growing feelings Seokjin was pressing onto him, he really needed the peace in all of this mess.He lets himself pause in his walk and his eyes roam all over the long garnished paths. He was alone in the massive hall, and so he breathed deeply to calm himself from his thoughts, the sound of his sigh echoing through the massive space.Which also meant one thing and his panic sets in."Where the fuck did Jungkook go-" ∆∆ "What did the wizard order at the hotel?" Seokjin looks up at him with mischievous eyes."A broom service," Yoongi deadpans, "Now hand me Jungkook,"Seokjin blinks, surprised that Yoongi actually knew the answer."Okay, but how do you keep a wizard in suspense?""..." Yoongi only stares at him blankly.Taehyung guffaws. "You just got played in your own game. Jin hyung." "Shut up, Taehyung." Seokjin sighs, "Just take Jungkook away. You take everything away from me, anyway." he motions for Jimin to carry Jungkook whose head was adorably resting on Seokjin's lap, fully asleep. They were sitting in the Gryffindor common room again. Yoongi and Jungkook's presence in there was now a norm and everyone turned a blind eye to it. Yoongi scoffs, hugging Jungkook's sleeping form, "What did I ever take from you?""Everytime you smile," Seokjin clutches his heart, "It takes my breath away,""Ew, stop." Yoongi scrunches his nose, hefting Jungkook up in his shoulder. "What did Jungkook do?""Only another kiss on the cheek and another one on my scalp," Seokjin dismisses him, continuing on his assignment, "It was cute."Yoongi stays still, fidgeting but unmoving and well, not leaving. Seokjin raises an eyebrow at him."I thought about it," he mumbles, "Hogsmeade,"Seokjin smirks, "So is that a yes?""As apology for the inconvenience, don't think too much about it," Yoongi rolls his eyes and exits before Jungkook wakes up.Seokjin stares at the space Yoongi stood before he left. He shakes his head before he reaches for his juice, knocking over the inkwell in the process, said inkwell toppling over his paper. Seokjin, surprised at his mess, spurted out his drink on his shirt. To salvage his shirt, he reaches for his wand on his mini table, knocking off his books, one even luckily entering the fireplace."...wow," Taehyung says, awed. "That was nice,"Seokjin blows on the fire on his book, "Setting my expensive ass book on fire isn't nice," Taehyung laughs, "No, I'm just amazed at how great you act all smug and confident when Yoongi hyung is here but then your awkwardness shows full force when he's gone. You act well," Seokjin rolls his eyes at him. ∆∆ "Hey, Jungkook," Yoongi grins at his friend, sulking on his bed. "What do you want me to get you when we go to Hogsmeade tomorrow?"Jungkook stubbornly crosses his arms and huffs. "I want Jin hyung,""Except Jin hyung?"Jungkook finally looks at him after a few seconds."...Toffee Eclairs,"Yoongi smiles brightly and affectionately ruffles the younger's hair. "Okay," ∆∆ "It's over!" Yoongi glomps Seokjin, the older shocked to feel Yoongi touch him on his own accord, much less jump on him. "Jungkook's done ranting about your greatness and handsomeness. I swear my ears were about to fall off," he laughs before pulling on Seokjin's wrist. "Come on, you wimp. Let's get Jungkook his toffees,"Seokjin smiles to himself, trying his best to ignore his wildly beating heart with the way Yoongi has his pale fingers gently wrapped around his wrist. He doesn't understand just how blind his friends are. Why do they go on and on about not being able to see Yoongi's different sides when Yoongi shows more than a hundred different expressions on his face in a minute (cute expressions, much to the dismay of Seokjin's poor, whipped heart)?After their rounds of buying all the things they wanted, they went and ordered their Butterbeers. Yoongi grimaces when he saw two forms approaching them on their seats."Suga hyung!" Taehyung clasps his hands together, "Fancy seeing you here,"Yoongi nods, "I feel the opposite,""Aww," Taehyungs pouts, pulling on his frowning companion, "That's a shame isn't it, Jimin? He feels the opposite. And here I was about to say sorr-""Get out, Taehyung," Seokjin laughs. "This grandpa only has trust issues all because of you,"Jimin pushes Taehyung out of the shop with an apologetic smile.The almost-couple have a small chat (and exchanged dad jokes. Yoongi, Seokjin realizes, is also a force to be reckoned with.) "Why are you so mad about Jungkook touching me anyway? It's not like Jimin doesn't touch Jungkook like that, too. But you're fine with it," Seokjin rests his chin on his palm. "Oh that," Yoongi sips on his drink, "I just didn't like Jungkook being that intimate with you. Only I should be able to touch you like that. I liked you, too. But I wanted to play hard-to-get for a little more," Seokjin's jaw went slack, creating a waterfall of butterbeer and Yoongi slowly covers his mouth. ∆∆"Why are you guys laughing?" Jungkook tilts his head cutely, glancing over the pair with opposite moods as they came back from their trip. "No wait, only Taehyung hyung. Not Jimin hyung. Why are you laughing?"Taehyung continues his cackling, "Who knew a few drops of Veritaserum is enough to do the trick?"Jimin sighs gravelly and Jungkook catches on."Ahh," the youngest frowns, "But Yoongi hyung is an Occlumens..?"
10682997	Alone	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Clarke Griffin, Lexa (The 100), Anya (The 100), Abby Griffin, Jake Griffin, Lincoln (The 100), Octavia Blake, Bellamy Blake", "Fandom": "The 100 (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by Panther101", "chapters": "13/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-20T00:00:00", "words": "14,782", "Additional Tags": "BAMF Clarke, BAMF Lexa, Body Modification, Sweet Clarke, guarded Lexa, Mother Anya, more to come - Freeform", "Relationship": "Clarke Griffin/Lexa", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“Wake up sweetie, you need to get up for mommy… please you need to get up.” I whimper slightly at the urgent voice of my mom as she starts to pick me up. I roll a bit in her arms so that I am more comfortable in her arms with my head in her neck. I am still slight still for the flu shot that my dad gave me last night, it was different from the two others i got, those only hurt my arm but now it feels like my whole body is on fire, but dad said it was fine.“Mommy, where are we going?” I say with a sleepy voice as i just got up.“You are going to a special place honey, you're going to the ground.” i barely register what my mom said as i fall back to sleep in her arms. The next time i wake up, i am still in my mother's arms, while she is talking to my dad, in an angry voice.“Mommy, what did daddy do this time?” I ask, slowly starting to wake up fully now.“Nothing sweetie, daddy and I are just discussing your adventure to the ground.” I understand her now and start to panic.“But mommy, the ground is dangerous, and i am only little, why am i going, where are you going to me? Mommy, i'm scared.” I see my dad start to slowly walk behind me but i think nothing of it.“No, don't be afraid baby, Everything will be fine” As she says this i feel like i am about to cry but i feel a prick in my neck and and a mass amount of pain go through my body before it is all black again. When i wake up again, i am in a small metal room in an uncomfortable chair. I look around to see where i am but the only thing i can see is alot of flashing buttons and a level with a note on it. ‘Tug’ and I do what it says, I grap the red handle and tug with all of my might. The whole front of the room bursts open and i am met with the warm air. I am confused because i have only know of one temperature and this is hotter that that one temperature. The temperature itself is about to make me cry when i really take in my surroundings now. I see the pretty green trees and the nice fluffy looking grass. I am confused bacause this is not what the ark looks like.My curiosity takes over and i slowly crawl my way out of the hole the red handle made. Dropping down to the ground fall onto my hands and knees and i feel the softness of the grass. It is such a different feeling but so nice that i start to giggle. I start to roll around and laugh even harder. I keep this up for a few minutes or longer because I was having so much fun with the grass i wasn't paying attention when a twig snaps somewhere in the woods. I stop immediately and look towards where i heard the sound come from.I stared there for a couple of seconds before what looked like a person stepped out. I was always told that the earth was unlivable by my parents but here is a person that looked really scary. I start to back away from the tall woman while it gets closer. I must have looked scares enough for the woman to stop. She takes another hesitant step before she kneels down a little ways away from me but in talking distance. “Why are you out here little one” she says in a calm but stern voice and in a language i don't understand. I look at her funny and respond“I don't understand you.” my voice is soft and it looks like she doesn't understand me either until she says something.“Why are you out here little one?”I don't know where i am and i don't know where my mommy and daddy are.” i say this and the weight of it hits me hard. Tears start to well up in my eyes and i start to cry. Through the confusion of where my parents are and how upset i am, i don't notice the stranger come up next to me”“Can you tell me where your parents are little one?” i startle a little at how close she got but i feel comfortable around her for some reason. I look around while trying to keep my nose from running, sniffing hard. Until i look up at the sky and point, knowing that the ark is in the sky and that is where my parents are. “In the sky?” the stranger asks qith confusion in her voice. I nod and she sighs. “that is impossible little one, but how about you come with me and we can figure out what to do with you, ok?” i nod again and start to get up, i look at her expectantly and she flashes what looks like a smile before heading back into the woods where i follow.“What is your name?” i say shyly while i look at the ground. It was polite to ask for a name my mom told me, but i don't know what i am supposed to do on the ground“I am Anya, and yours?”“Clarke” beaming Anya a bright smile as i look at her expectantly. “What?” confusion lacing her voice.“On the ark, when people greet each other, it is normal to say it's nice to meet you.”“But what is nice about meeting someone you don't know?” I giggle at her.“Its polite”“oh, well in that case it is nice to meet you clarke,” anya says in a monotone voice which makes me laugh a little more. We keep walking for a few more minutes until a gate comes into view. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Walking the rest of the way to the gate, a man shout. I look to the top to see three men pointing something sharp at me. From the books that mom read to me, it looks to be a bow and arrow. On instinct i hide behind anya “Open the gate, i found this child alone in the forest.” i hear anya speak that language again. Tugging on her shirt, i ask“What did you say?”“ i told them to open the gate, little one.” I giggle again “my name is clarke, not little one” and this time anya does smile.“Yes it is, but you are also little.” i smile at her reasoning and look back at the large gate in front of us now opening. We both walk through the gate. I look at the people that are walking around and i pull myself closer to anya’s led, gripping a little harder then i think“Don't worry little one, you are safe here.” i ease up on her leg and i can see that she has a limp now. We walk through the houses and tents with all eyes on us before they go back to what they were doing. I walk still attached to anyas leg until she stops in front of a tent where a guard stands. She says something in the strange language and we continue into the tent. The tent is large with soft fur laying the ground. There is a table and some chairs and there ia a section that is blocked by a curtain of cloth. Letting go of anyas leg, i walk over to the table and sit down. “Anya, i'm hungry” my stomach growls to help my whining. “I have the guard getting us food, but while we wait lets talk about you parents.” at the mention of them i feel hot tears start to well up in my eyes. If they aren't here then where are they? Why did they not want to go with me? Did they not want me anymore? A single tear fell down my rosy cheek as i look back to anya.“They don't want me anymore.” it's simple and lifeless.“Well, where are they little one.” i can hear the concern in anyas voice and something in my tiny body snaps. Tears start to pour down my face as i start to mumble out my words.“They don't want me. They… they sent me here alone. If. If they wanted me. They wouldn't have sent me away alone… they would have come with.. me.” i cry and cry when i feel a hand on my back. I look up to see anya had gotten closer to me and i throw myself in her arms. Her arm wrap around me and i sink into the motherly like hug. My head is in between anyas breasts so she can't see her shocked, scared face. I looked at the small girl across the table crying and i have to move closer. As i get up though, i see something white on the girls back that wasn't there when we walked into the tent. I walk closer and sit down. I put my hand on the crying girls back and what i see is not normal. I look at her back and sas two small crystal white wings resting on her back. I have seen people with extra fingers and limbs but never seen someone with wings. A bird has wings but a human does not. I feel something press against my chest and i look down wide eyed. Clarke was hugging me. I wrapped my arms around the small girl because what else could she do. The child lost her parents, or her parents abandoned her and now here she was. In my tent. What am i supposed to say to this winged girl. Everything is going to be alright? I can't lie to her. If anyone saw her winds then they would have her killed or banished. I would have to if i did not know that she was abandoned and had nowhere to go. “I will take care of you little one, I will take care of you.” at this moment the tent flaps open and the guard steps in with our food. He got some fruits and dried meat for the both of us. He froze when he saw the position we were in, i motioned him to set the food on the table. He did as he was told and left hastily. I pry the girl off of me slowly and gently, “Little one, your food is here.” My words are heard on deaf ears as clarke has fallen asleep in my arms. My heart aches at the sight. I carry her little body over to my bed and lie her down, cover her in furs, step back and watch her sleeping form. Why am i so caring for this little girl? I have an army to lead and a second to teach. My second. I completely forgot i was supposed to meet her at the training ground. I take one last look at the sleeping girl and rush out. I tell the guard to let no one into my tent and sprint ot the pit. Once there i see my second sparing with a young boy that might me two years older than her. I see her eyes catch mine and she makes quick work to disarm teh boy and swipe his legs out from beneath him. She holds out her hand and help the boy up, thanks him and walks over to me. “Hei, Ticha,” She says with a bow at the hips.“Hei, Leksa,” she holds out her arm for lexa to take. They hold for a few seconds before they let go. “I know of the training i had for you today, and I am sorry that i am late.”“It is ok, Ticha.” “I have found something though that needs my attention right now. Spar with the boy now, and then come find me in my tent. Lexa nods her head and i turn to leave. Entering my tent I am relieved to find that clarke is still sleeping. Walking to the bedside, I see that she is completely on her stomach and her wings are now on full display. They can't be more than a foot long but they fit her little frame perfectly. Or, well enough a set of wings can fit on a human. I hear the guard talk outside and lexas voice follows. I call for the guard to let lexa in and a second later lexa is walking in.“You wanted to see me, Ticha.” “How many time do i have to tell you leksa. In private please call me anya, and yes. I wanted to show you something please follow me.” I lead her to the back where my bed is set up. When we round the corner and clarke comes into our vision i hear a blade unseath. I am quick to step in front of lexa and clare, who is now stirring awake due to the hiss of the sword.“Anya,” Lexa hissed,” What is that in your bed.”“Leksa, put away your sword.” She hesitates. “Now” lexa complies, but not without one last look at clarkes form.“Anya, i'm hungry” clarke whines.“Leksa go tell the guard to fetch some food.” This receives a glare from lexa but she turns around to do as she was told. She returned a couple seconds later.“Anya, why is that thing in here.”“That thing, as you call it, is a person. And that person is clarke.” Anger boiling in her chest at the way lexa described clarke.“Then why does she have wings” lexa is clearly unconvinced that clarke is anything other than a freak.“I do not know, but i found her in the woods rolling in the grass next to some metal sphere.” Lexa is abot to say something untill clarke speaks up, making lexa close her mouth.“Anya, why do you speak in such a weird way. And who is the girl, she is scary.” Clarke whines the last part as she attaches her little arms around anyas waist. “We speak this way because this is our language, you speak gonasleng. We speak both gonasleng and trigedasleng. And the girls name is leksa, she is my second.”“What is a second”“She is my student, and almost like a daughter to me.” and if i wasnt looking at clarke i would have seen the slight blush on lexas cheek.“Do you trust her?”“I do very much”“Then i do to,” And with that clarke jumps off the bed and holds out her hand to lexa. “Hello Lexa, it is nice to meet you” Lexa looks at her hand and says.“What is nice about meeting someone?” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Anya… Anya are you awake.” feeling a gentle but strong nudge to my shoulder, if it wasn't for the voice and and tiny palm i would have mistaken they person for one of my warriors. But as i am induced by sleep i dont question it.“I am now little one.”“Oh i didn't know. Im sorry.” from the pout in clarke's voice i know she feels bad for waking me. So i sit up and turn to her in the dark tent.“It is fine clarke, what did you need?”“oh, nothing important.”“If it was not important then why did you wake me?” i chuckle to myself as her face goes red.“Well. I wanted to talk about lexa.” i tense a little knowing that lexa must have looked scary to the little girl with her solid tone of voice. “If she scared you, i can have a talk with her to make sure she is nicer around you, or i can make her…”“No, i just wanted to tell you that she is very pretty.” I am left stunned. Out of all the things that she could have gotten from lexa, pretty was not one of them. And then i realised that clarke has a thing for my second. I smirk at her as she stands there at the side of my bed. “So you think she is cute?” she blushes as she looks down at the floor.“Yea but i don't think she likes me, who would like me if even my parents left me.” This wipes the smirk off my face and i am quick to pick the small girl up in my arms and put her im my bed next to me.“I assure you clarke that lexa has no anger towards you. She was just acting out of response to your… abnormality?”“What does that mean?” as she looks like she is only four or five. She doesn't know what i mean.Got to sleep little one, I will tell you tomorrow. Waking up that morning might have been the hardest battle i have ever fought. The sleeping angel on top of me was like a ton of swords weighing me down. I had to fight to wake clarke or let her sleep. I knew i had a session setup for lexa this morning but i cant seem to make myself wake her. But luckily i didnt have to as lexa came in looking around confused on why i was not up yet.“Anya, are you alright?” she says as she turns the corner. She pauses, about to move forward to remove the “infernal thing” as she calls it from me. But i am quick to wave her off and by doing so, the small movement is expected enough to wake the small girl. “Anya, why are you moving so much?” she looks around rubbing her eyes ubtill she sees lexa standing a few feet away. She blushes and hides her head in anyas neck. “Oh. I didnt know that lexa was here. Im sorry if im getting in the way, ill go to the other side.” she starts to move but i hols her in place. “It is alright little one, lexa was just leaving.” “Actually, i came here to find if you had killed my ticha.” “Lexa, you can leave.” she huffs but leaves. “Im sorry about her, but i think you scared her yesterday when she saw your wings.”“Wings? I don't have wings. Birds have wings, people don't have wings.” she giggles and i would have chuckled to if i didnt know what i said was true.“Clarke” i say seriously so she understands “you have wings on your back.” i say flat toned so she cant hear the small amount of fear in my voice. But she heard it anyway as she starts to panic and frantically reaches back to feel what she was told to be there. When her little hands find purchase on her white wings, her eyes widen and a smile breaks past her previous panicked face.“Anya i have wings, this is sooooo cool. Maybe i can fly, like the birds…”“Clarke, you can't let anyone see your wings. Others might think you are not normal and try to kill you.”“Is that what lexa believes? Is that why she thinks i would try to kill you. Is that why she doesn't like me?” i don't know how to respond and the silence is enough for clarke to make her own conclusion.“I wish i never had these wings. The are why lexa doesn't like me, and why my parents abandoned me.” she runs out of the tent and into the forest. hopefully no one noticed her and goes after her. I have to make sure though and quickly get dressed and go out to search for her.After a couple of minutes i was able to track the girl dues to her inexperience with hiding her tracks. “Clarke?” she was sitting with her back against a tree and was crying.“Go away, nobody wants a monster like me.”“Clarke, why do you think i bought you back with me? I want you. But you cant stay with me.”“So then why do you say things you do not mean? You want me but do not?” It is safee for you not to be with me but i know of a place where it is safe for you to live and i can visit everyday, its someplace close where i can train you, what do you say?” i look at her with hopeful eyes. I don't know why i am so attached to this girl but feel the need to protect her. “Ok” is all clarke says and she engulf me in a tight hug. I pick her up and i start walking in the direction of the cave. Thinking about what the future will hold for this young girl, and what she is going to say to lexa when clarke is gone. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- A week after reaching the cave, Clarke and I have gotten into a routine. I would come to the cave after my duties at tonDC were finished. I would bring something for us to eat and then we would train. The training was nothing but spectacular. Only a few days in and clarke has shown strength beyond what a child like her should be capable of. She still lacks the correct form but in these few day, she has been able to come close to mastering the basics of hand to hand combat. After the training it would be late, so we would both retire to bed. I would wait for clarke to fall asleep in the fur bed i made for her next to a fire. The cave is well protected from the elements, but can still get cold if left without a fire for a day, so it is best to keep on going, even if it is small. Walking in today though, there is something new that catches my eye. On the wall of the cave is a face. It has no color but the outlines have been done by a stone and can be seen clearly. It is not the best i have seen but i am still impressed on how talented just a simple little girl can be. But then again, this little girl is anything but simple.“Clarke, i didnt know you could draw?”“I never told you silly.” clarke giggles like she said something funny, but the tone of her voice make me chuckle as well. “That would explain why then. What did you draw?.” it is clear that it is a face but unclear of who it is without color. I see that she starts to blush and i get an idea of who it is.“Its lexa. I didn't have any colors so i couldn't color her eyes, but it is lexa. Is that ok?” the hesitation in her voice is clear.“Of course it is ok, lets go to bed now though. Ok?”“Ok, but will you be here in the morning?” she asks me this every night before we go to bed, and i always feel bad answering. “Im sorry little one, but i must go back to tonDC and take care of business.”“Uggg, you say that every time!!!”“And i mean it everytime but it is time for bed now.” she huffs but crawls into the bed. I follow behind her and she cuddles into my side. I get up when her breathing evens out and walk to the mouth of the cave. I turn back once more to watch the girl sleeping, knowing i wouldn't leave her alone. She is so young, but go protect her i must go back or people would start to wonder what i am doing. So with much reluctance, i turn around, facing the front of the cave and walk out. “Ticha”“Leksa” i respond as i walk past the gate with my destination being my tent for some time by myself. But lexa keeps following me so i know i won't get the quiet time just yet.“Where have you gone off to today anya.” she says to me once we get inside the tent.“That is not your business, as my second, you do not get to question me. Even jf one day you might be commander. Now go sleep, we will train in the morning.” i turn around to start changing but i still feel a pair of eyes on me. “What is on your mind, second?”“Are you going out to help that… thing?” i am quick to trun around, striding forward, getting in lexas face. Nose falring.“That ‘thing’ had a name, her NAME was clarke. And i told you that i left her in the forest a week ago. Now go to bed and be ready to train tomorrow.” i say with a cold voice as i turn around and enter the sleeping area of my tent. I hear lexa leave, and i sigh. She ia like a daughter to me. I had raised her since she was younger than clarke. But i taught her better than to disrespect someone just because they were different. She is different, but why can't she accept that clarke is just as normal as anybody else, she just has a pair of wings on her back. I get ready for bed and lie down in my bed. I think about clarke and her sleeping form, and how i am going to apologize to lexa tomorrow for yelling at her. I drift to sleep thinking about the drawing clarke drew of lexa. Opening my eyes, i hear nothing but the early birds chirping. Sitting up, i move out of my bed and walk over the the small makeshift closet that is sitting a few feet away from a water basin. I grab some light leather armor, strapping all of the various buckles and straps. I move to the basin and splash some water on my face. I take my time braiding my hair, as i don't want them to come loose in todays activities. I then grab my sword and walk out push aside the tent flap into the early morning light.Moving to the training pits, i start to take out the weapons that i will use with lexa today. Then i take two wooden swords and but them off to the side, thinking that clarke and i can start with fighting with swords today. When lexa arrives a little while later we start with hand to hand for an hour before we move into the selected weapons i put aside.After four hours of hard training, i signal the end of our session. “Leksa, i wanted to apologise for yelling at you yesterday. I just want you to know that you should not judge someone on if they are different. You are different yourself, so is it fair that you call clarke what you call her, even though you have black blood?” seeing that lexa has seen her flaw, as she blushes a little, lets me feel better that i know now that lexa will now think about some things more clearly and open minded than before. “I am sorry ticha, i will not make the mistake again.” i nod, happy with the answer and i move to collect the two wooden swords. I thank lexa for not questioning why as i move to my horse. Climbing up the saddle and telling the guards to open the gates. I make my way towards the cave clarke is at, wondering if clarke and lexa will ever meet again. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- 2 years later, clarke doesn't even need me any more. I had been able to spend more time with her since last year because lexa was finally taken away to become the commander. She still has her conclave ahead of her, but she will win.Clarke is growing much faster than she should be. She has only seen six summers but she already looks as if she has seen 10. It is another mystery that i will never understand. She has mastered hand to hand much faster than anyone i have taught. She has also become quite acquainted with a blade. I remember two years ago when she couldn't even hold the sword the right way.“Clarke,” i say riding up on my horse. “I have brought something new for us to try. Stepping off my horse, ii see a small clarke running at me. She hugs my leg like we haven't seen each other in weeks.“What is it anya?” she looks at me with excitement in her blue eyes and my heart soars with love for this child, even though i have only known her for a week. She is like a daughter to me.“I have brought training swords to try. Do you want to try them?”“YES!” she squeals in excitement as she starts to jump up and down. Smiling at her excitement i take the swords out my bag and hand one to her. She looks at it and grips it buy the blade side. I chuckle lightly at her and go to show here the right way to hold the weapon.Now though, she has been able to disarm me multiple times. She has become quite the skilled warrior for only being trained for 2 years. She has learned fast and has acquired skills beyond what a human should be capable of. She can hide her wings now. Sucking them into her back like they where never there. She can also see in the dark. Another thing i will never understand. I have come to believe that the spirits had gifted clarke so she can survive on this earth. There is no other explanation. Also while training with sharpened swords. Clarke has gotten many cuts, and her blood is still red, but there is a hint of silver to it. Almost like metal. These discoveries did not deter me though. They just proved how special clarke is. Going to the cave now, i have planned for clarke to start hunting. I know someday i will not be with her so she must know how to feed herself when she is alone. At the cave, i walk into see clarke drawing yet another picture of lexa. There must be at least 50 full face drawings of her and twenty drawings of just lexas eyes. I had gotten clarke some colored kohls from the market. She had been excited to use them but complained that the green was not the same color as lexas eyes. I laughed and said that was all they had. She seemed satisfied with the answer and we got to trainingClarke may have an obsession with my former second, which is concerning because i don't know whether lexa feels the same. They only met twice and lexa was not kind to clarke. She said she was sorry to me but clarke still thinks that lexa doesn't want anything to do with her. It breaks my heart every time clarke cries in my neck, saying that no one will ever truly love her. I tell her not to think this way, that there are people that will love her, that i love her like a daughter. But she always brings up how much lexa hated her, and she didn't even know her. So clark's obsession is a concern, but only for her heart's safety.“Clarke” i yell. She runs out of her cave and greets me.“Hello anya, how are you today.” she says helping me take the saddle off my horse, and tie him up to a tree.“I am well. We will be hunting today.” clarke's face breaks into a smile but she quickly corrects herself and sets it into an unreadable mask that she has been working on for the past month. “Sha, ticha.” Anya hasnt been here in four days. She said she was going to polis and it would take a couple days. I thought is would be two days but it seems it would be longer. I try to find a way to busy myself and settle on drawing. Once again, brown hair and green eyes invade my mind as i bring the kohl anya got me to the hard stone of the cave wall. I mindlessly do stroke after stroke as i have done countless times before. I still remember her features from 2 years ago. I remember her angry at me for no reason. The hatred she felt towards me for no reason. I dont know why i am drawing the face of someone who does not like me. But i felt something inside me pull towards her. Like i was supposed to be near her. So as i draw, i keep myself from crying, that strange feeling that i always have when i think of lexa. Hours pass as i start to finish up the most detailed version of lexas face yet. I get up walk over to my makeshift bed and go to sleep thinking about lexa and when anya will be back. “Clarke” i hear someone yell and by the voice. It is anya. I walk out of the cave and see anya atop her horse i greet her and help her get her horse settled. Getting everything situated anya tells me that we are going to hunt today. I smile because we have never hunted before. We have only ever worker on stealth and being silent. I realize that my smile is still on my face and quickly remove it, replacing it with my mask, being told by anya that when i go out in public, eventually, i will have to remain stoic. I must look the part of second if i am to ever go into civilization. So i have put on my practiced mask and help anya prepare for the hunt. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- After the hunt, we walk back to my cave. I am carrying the whole deer on my shoulders like is is nothing. I have known that i am different from most people. At Least from the people they i have seen when i was in anyas village those two years ago. I know i am stronger than i should be by how impressed anya looks after i disarm her, or kock her down flag on her back. I know for sure that normals people don't have wings. Even i was surprised when i saw them for the first time. Im guessing id had something to do with the ark bug i can't be sure. I had learned how to hide my wings but i can't do so without holding my breath. They would be pretty easy to hide in a long coat if i wrapped them around my body. I go through some more ways i could hide them in my head before anya starts speaking to me.“Klarke, what are you about?” she asks with interest.“I was just thinking about ways to hide my wings, anya.” sounding disinterested so hopefully she would not question further, but i have no such luck“And why would you want to hide such pretty wings little one?” the amusement is clear in her voice and i scoff at the teasing tone.“You already know anya, I want to go back to the village. Im bored out her alone.” i look over and see anyas face fall. “Anya, i did not mean that i do not like your company. You are like my mother..”“I am not your mother, i would not abandon you like she did.”“Anya, i would say you ARE my mother, but you did not give birth to me. You are like a mother to me because you have raised me, taught me, and made me who i am. I am proud to be with you and happy that i have you. But i want to see something new.” i can see that my words have affected anya emotionally as she is trying not to cry.“You look to me as your mother?” i nod my head in confirmation and i see one tear roll down her cheek before she wipes it away and smiles. That smile then turns to a smirk, “then lea is your sister, she has said the same thing to me before.” i look at her in wide eyes and i start to shake my head.“You are not my mother than.” i say as i start to run to my cave. I hear a chuckle behind me and a pair of feet running on the ground as well.After learning how to skin the deer properly and cook it, we eat talking about how polis had gone and what we are going to do tomorrow. Year laterPolis was a big city. Lots of people and lots of buildings. A lot bigger than tonDC had been. Having arrived here a year ago, i have had to go through training in all sorts of different skills. How to think and act like a leader being the highest priority. Everyday we trained. For hours a day all of the nightbloods were too tired to train anylonger to where we were taught that love was weakness. It was the same everyday. Titus was a fair teacher but he lacked sympathy for his students. He could not see pass their black blood. Whenever i see him, i always think about anya and how much i miss her, which is every second of everyday. The halls in the commander's tower have become lonely. None of the other nightbloods like me. I am the oldest and titus tells me to use that to my advantage. So whenever i spar, i always win. Whenever a question is asked, i am always called upon. It is lonely because none of the nightbloods want to talk to me, they all look to me as if i am a freak, when i am just like them. When i first got here, we all talked to each other. We all worked together and had fun with our training, eventhough we did not show it to titus. Until titus started to favor me. He started to spare me himself and when he wasnt, he would tell me to beat down whoever i was sparing. So with the time that has passed, with all of the other nighbloods judging me, i have hardened myself. Preparing for my conclave. Preparing to be commander once it is time for me to be so. Preparing to go back to tonDC to tell anya myself, on what i have acheived with her help. “Come on clarke, you can do it,” anya cheered from next to me. “You have seen birds do it so do that.” i grin as she tries to teach me how to fly. I close my eyes and i focus on my wings. I can see the dark blue feathers that look black, i can see the length of them and the width. Picturing what they would look like spreading out . i hear a gasp next to me, opening my eyes i look twords anya and see that she is looking in awe at my wings. “Anya? What are you staring at?” I finish my thought and look back to see that my wings have expanded to their full length. Excitement fills my chest as i concentrate on moving my wings again. I picture them pointing straight back and sure enough. I feel my wings move to do what my head commanded them to do. I squeal in excitement as i picture what the would look like flying in the air. I prepare myself so i know what to do what i jump and crouch.“Clarke…” anya says, worry in her voice. I look at her and back to the sky. In one swift motion, i push against the ground with my legs and push down with my wings, launching me up high up into the air. I can see above the trees. A tower is off in the distance. I briefly acknowledge that as polis before i notice that i start to fall. Panicking, try to move my wings but the are uncoordinated and i seem to only fall faster. I see anya under me, ready to catch me but i know if i fall on her from this height, she will be severely hurt. I i concentrate as hard as i can on what i have seen birds to and start to pump my wings starting to slow my descent i start to push harder than just frantically moving them up and down.Seeing the ground coming closer and closer, i close my eyes and wait to collide with anya. But the hard impact never comes. My wings are still pushing the air around be as i open my eyes. Looking down i see that i am floating just above anya. Im flying.“Im flying anya!” i shriek before i push harder and forward to start flying back into the sky. My instincts, or whatever you can call it, must have taken over now because i am soaring through the skies like i have been flying my whole life. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Sitting on my thron, which was intricatly crafted for me once i became the commander, i wait for my mentor to arrive. It had been so long since i had last seen her. I have now seen 16 summers and went through my conclave just a week ago. I had sent for my mentor the moment the flame was in my neck and all of the voices that came with it calmed. I sit patently on my thron with my commander dagger in hand. The tip dug slightly into the wood. The door to the throne room opened and entered two guards and my mentor. I wave for the guards to leave. I stand and walk over to my mentor. We stand stairing at each other untill anya moves forward and wraps herbarms around me. I am shocked but regain myself and hug her back. A tear finds its way down my cheek but i just hug anya harder.“I have missed you onya.”“I jave missed you to, lexa.”We talk to each other and what has been happeneing in each others life. I talk about my training since that is all i have been able to do for the last few years. But i listen to anya talk about all of the training she had been putting her new seccond through and how this new second had already surpassed me when i was her age. We laugh and we joke around with each other for wgat feels lime hours but was really only one. “Lexa, i would like it if you acomponied me to tondc. I would be a good time to visit your previous home and see something i have to show you.”“I would love to acompony you back to tondc in the morning, for now let us rest.” ClarkeWhen anya left roday i had to resist crying. I had been planning to leave for awhile and i knew i could not tell anya. I knew she would not let me go. I want to explor the world. Ao when anya said she was called by the commander i knew this was my time to go, and see the world. I had already packed my bags once anya left and i was ready to go after i woke in the middle of the night. I had packed the sword anya had brought me one day, she said she had gotten a random one but i can tell she had it made for me with the green stone planted in the hilt of the sword. It was thoughtful and i almost cried when i thought i would never get to see those green eyes again. I knew it was silly to be in love woth someone you had only knew once but i fell for her all the same, at the age of four no less. Now it was the night and i grabbed one of my various pieces of coal that anya had brought me and i wrote my message on a spare piece of paper, placing where anya was sure to see it. I made sure i had my two weeks of food in my pack, as well as my sword and bow. I was dressed in the armor anya got me the year before, a hard lether chest peice with with tight lether pants. My back was mostly exposed to allow room for my wings. Even though now i can hide them completly. I would prefer them out. It is uncomfortable, i had learned how to hide them without holding my breath, but it still feels wierd. Once finished, i walk out of my cave and take one last look at it before i start walking. AnyaOnce it turns morning i can barely hold back my exitement. I know clarke will be really happy to see lexa, and i can only hope that lexa will feel differently about seeing clarke this time. I walk over to lexas room, since i was escorted only a few rooms away from hers. I knock on the door and once i get permision to enter, i olen the door to see an already dressed lexa. “I rememper a time when you did not like to get up early.” anya chukled at lexas huff“I still dont but i cant seem to sleep longer since i started my nightblood training. “Are we ready to go?” i ask and when i see lexa nod, we walk out of the tower together and over to the stables. Our hourses are already prepared as well as four guards who will be acomponying us on our trip. The ride is silent except from lexa asking wgat it is that i have to show her. I tell her she has to wait, low enough so the guards wont hear. Once at tondc, i tell leza to follow me in the opposite direction, lexa tells the guards to get something do eat inside the village as we both head out to the cave.I see that lexa becomes even more co fused as we get closer to the cave because she has never been to this area of the forest. “where are we going anya.” i look at her and i just smirk. She huffs but knows that she will not get anything out of me. The cave comes into view. We ride up to the cave and dismount our horses. “little one, i am back, and i have brought someone for you to meet.” i say this so that lexa has less of an idea on who is actually in the cave. We wait for another minute untill i start to panic. I know clarke heard me. If i yelled, she could hear me from a mile away at least. “Little one” i say with fear in my voiceand i loom over at a confused lexa.I rush into the mouth of the cave to see the there is no clarke. I start to panic, i start coming up with reasones why clarke might not be jere when lexa calls my name. When i turn aroind i see she is holding a piece of paper in her hands. I run over to her and grap it from her hands. Anya,I hole you had a good trip to polis. I dont know what the commander wanted with you but i hole you are not in trouble. I wrote this letter to tell you that i am leaving. I have wanted to leave for a while now. Nkt because i dont like it here. But i want to see the world, i want to explore and see the wonders of the old world. I am sorry that i did not tell you gace to face but you have to understand that i know you would not have let me go. You are over protective of me and i love you for that, but i want to do this.Know thatvi am happy with this decision and that i am proud to call you my nomon. ClarkeI have a few tears rolling down my face before i remember that lexa is with me. I wipe them away before i look up. I can tell she noticed me crying and had respectfully looked away. I can see that she is looking at the walls with much curiosity because, well, the walls were full of drawings of her. “who drew these” she says while she ghosts her fingers over a younger version of herself, trying not to mess up the beautufully done work.“The person i wanted you to meet.” she looks to me confused untill she understands.“Clarke.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- LexaAnya, why did you not tell me you kept it… her.”“I did not tell you for that exact reason, you disregard for her feelings was the only reason i told you that she was gone all of those. Why i hid her from everyone else. When i found her i attached to her and her to me. She is like my child and when i found out that her mother and father abandoned her, i knew that i would not do the same.”Anya had been my mentor, she had always been hard on me, but there was always love in her. I know she does not care for many people, i could only name one before clarke, and that was me. So instead of angering my mentor on more because i can see that she is devastated to learn clarke has left, i ask… “why did she draw so many pictures of me?” because, why did she? I did not know her and the only defining feature that i remember are the wings. “That is also why i did not show her to you, i believe the way you would have reacted to seeing her again would be to much for her. She would have been to broken to function that her idle and love interest did not feel the same about her.” “Love interest, anya, if i am correct, she only saw me twice…”“And that was enough for her to fall for you,lexa.” After learning this, i was left speechless. I could not mourn something i did not know of, and i could not fell for this girl because again, i did not know her. I look at my mentor and walk back to the mouth of the cave to wait for her, knowing she needs her time right now. Clarke - Six Years LaterI Have been flying for what felt like hours when i finally see a structure of some kind. I feel relief flood my body as i get closer. I have not had clean water in a day, nor have i had food for the past three days. The thing full of sand and nothingness that i soon learned to be the dessert was a death trap. There was nothing there except sand, bandits, and more sand. The sand was easy enough, i could fly, i didn't have to deal with the burning hot rocks beneath my feet. The bandits, also very easy, but when you have not eaten for a few days, they start to pose quite the threat.As i near closer to the structure i start to think who might be in there. Are they more bandits. Are they good people, are there any people at all. I decide to walk the rest of the way and hide my wings. The process now becoming a seamless mechanic of my body now that i can do without thinking, the stuffiness that it causes is easily ignored. Walking closer i do see that there are indeed people inside this small hut. I raise my hands as a man comes out with a bow and arrow pointed at me. He starts to speak to me in trigedaslang. I choose to pretend not to understand though and act innocent, hoping if they are bad people, i can use this to my advantage.“Who are you, and why are you here?” he asks.“I do not understand your words.” i say “Who Are you, what do you want.” he asks me with a heavy accent.“My name is clarke, i have been roaming the desert for the past week and have not found any signs of life untiñl now.” that is a lie. I had seen multiple bandits but i dont know if this guy is their pal yet.“What do you want?” he asks again raising his bow higher. I respond with raising my hands higher.“I haven't eaten for three days, and it's been a day since my water ran out. Please help me and i will be gone, i mean you no harm.” that was the truth. She was beyond tired, and she was in no way a ruthless killer. “I only need food and water. I can pay in any way you need.”“Go, we do not have any to spare…” his words get drowned out as a woman's voice comes from inside the house as the cry of a baby can be heard to. The man frown deepens as he knows i heard the people inside. “Stephon, she said she can pay, she looks strong. Maybe she can help with taking care of the bandits. We can give her food, you both can take care of the bandits, there are not that many.”I can see the man thinks this over, but i am already falling to the ground, passing out from the lack of food and water. When i wake up, i am in a comfortable bed, and i am still hungry. As if my stomach can read my mind, it makes a funny noises it has been making the past few days. I start to sit up, but i am stopped by a gentle hand.“Stay still and drink. You must become hydrated first. Then we will mix food in.” I try to look confused, keeping up my act of not knowing the language. She catches on and starts to gently shove the small cup of water towards my mouth. I take a few sips of the water before she pulls it away, switching it with small bowl. I start to drink what is in the bowl, and i find that is some kind of broth, that tastes amazing.“Rest, you will help when you are strong enough to help. For now, just rest.” I fall back into the sweet embrace of sleep. Thinking about those forest green eyes. Those green eyes that will never think of me as normal. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- ClarkeA week has passed since i last saw Stephon and his wife. Helping then with the bandits just two weeks ago was enough action to make me think it was time to go home. There had been a few more then I would have liked, but Stephon and I got the job done. Those bandits won't be messing with their family again. Even though they were great people and lovely company, it was time to go back to the Trikru woods.It should take a day of traveling, since i was on my way back before i was stopped by the lack of food and water. Being away for so long had taken its toll, constantly seeing my nomon and lexa in my dreams. Thinking about them everyday and what they had done that day. Wondering if either of them still remembered her. Flying was the worst during these times. There was nothing but the wind in your face. No distractions. Nothing. Your left to your thoughts and thoughts right now would not stop coming. Would Anya want me back. Would she even know who she is. Would lexa recognize me. I hope she doesn't, maybe I could get a fresh start with her. It should be easy enough to find them both considering that lexa was the commander herself and anya was a general for the trikru army. Most people would know where those two people are. The hard part is going to be trying to talk to them after all of these years. Mostly Anya. She did just up and leave without a goodbye. That is, if she still remembers me. 10 Hours LaterWith thoughts of Anya and Lexa running rampant in my mind, i did realise that the Forest the trikru has claimed started to come into view. I could see the tower of polis in the distance and a flash of green eyes appeared in front of her. Blinking them away, she made her way towards where she remembered her old cave use to be, thinking it would be good if she got some rest before she talked to her old nomon. Finding TonDC, she landed and went inside to the small market. She purchased some meat and plants for food, and walked back out, with protests from the guards telling her it was dangerous outside the gates at night. I just looked back at them, then continued walking. Walking through the woods brought back memories of her and anya training and playing games. Hunting and gathering plants. Those memories went into overload when she walked into a tiny clearing where the mouth of the cave was wide open. The reason no one has found it before was the thickness of the trees near this clearing. I walked up to the cave and took a deep breath before walking in. Inside i was surprised to find it the way i had left it. My bed of furs were still there as well as all of my drawings. None of them had been washed away or forgotten. But then again, anya may just have never came back. I started to panic, thinking back to the day I left that i did leave a note for anya. I looked around trying to remember where i put it but it was nowhere to be seen. Not seeing it, i sucked in a breath of fresh air knowing that anya had at least come back.Setting up a small fire in the old fire pit, I started to cook up the meat i bought while i munched on the small plants and berries I had bought and found earlier. While I picked at the chunk of meat, my thoughts went to anya and lexa once again. Wondering for the first time if they are even alive. Waking up in the morning, i got a sense of familiarity. Waking up in my old furs had definitely been something she had been looking forward to since she left. She got up and saw that the fire was still going, so she stuck the meat back over it to warm it up for a morning meal. When it was done, she took it off and started to pick at it while she looked at her drawings of lexa. They were crude and nowhere near the detail of her most recent drawings, but they were good for what a small child had done. While walking around the cave, admiring her work, she heard the familiar sound of swords clashing together. She was confused because the nearest path was too far to hear any attack, and the sound sounded like it was close enough to be right outside the cave. How could someone have found this place? Well, it had been a few years.Walking to the front of the cave, she slowly turned the corner to see a girl, no more that the age of 13, and a woman that wore and jacket with a hoop over her head. I step out and I draw my sword. I notice that the women doesn't flinch, but the child does, even if just slight. “Leave, you do not belong here. This is my cave.” I say while I advance on the two slowly. The woman starts to talk.“You do not own this cave, you did not find it. I found this cave and no smuggler will disrupts its contents while I have a say.” Finding this weird, i am caught off guard by the woman sending her blade at my head. I recover and easily block the attack and follow up by attacking low, the offender blocks this as expected by any experienced warrior and attacks high again, i expect this and block, getting closer to the woman and ramming her chest with my shoulder, knocking the wind out of her. While in her daze, i knock the blade out of her had with a swift strike from mine. I notice the the woman has accepted she lost and is awaiting her death, but before i can speak, i feel a change in the air and duck out of the way just in time for a blade to replace where my head had been minutes ago. The child attacked again with a flurry of attacks that were sloppy yet trained at the same time. I easily block them but get tired and grab the sword as it comes in high aimed at my neck. That attack was lazy and did not have much power behind it, only making the wound sting. Blood started to drip down the blade as I rip it out of the child's hands. “I asked you to leave, now go or die, this is my cave.” I turn around but hear that the woman has started to stand again. “You will not ruin what is inside that cave.” I turn around at the boldness of this woman and decide I had enough. Although i can not see their face, i release my wings and spread them in a threatening way. The child instantly drops to she knees, terrified of what i might do next, but the woman stands there, frozen to the spot. “Now, leave or pay with your lif…”“Clarke?” the woman says in a half broken voice. How does this woman know my name? How? And then it all makes sense. Why she is here. Why she would not let me mess with the things inside the cave. “Anya?” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Anya?” I say as I move closer to the woman in front of me. I go to pull the hood off her, and there she was. The dirty blond woman that raised me. She looked like she did all of those years ago. Everything was the same, and before I can say another word, a tear is forming in her mother's eye and she is engulfed in a bone crushing hug. “Clarke, it's you.. I thought you would not come back.” Anya is trying to hold back the tears now, most likely due to the younger member of this exchange. “I thought I had done something to drive you away, and that you left for more than exploring.” I am being squeezed so hard I think I might die from lack of oxygen. “Nomon, you did nothing wrong. I wanted to explore and you would have stopped me. I'm sorry if I worried you. But you are strangling me right now.”“Right, sorry.” Anya let's go and backs up, far enough to where she can still touch her daughter's shoulders. “I'm so glad your home. I can see your wings have grown. As have you.” Anya looks me up and down, making me blush and look down at the ground.“Well, six years is a long time, and a woman does grow when she hits a certain age.” I laugh slightly and pull Anya back into another bone crushing hug. “I missed you nomon.”“I missed you too, little one” releasing each other from the hug, we turn to walk into the cave like old times, until we see a frightened girl standing frozen to the spot. I look over to Anya who has lost all trace of emotion in her face.“Clarke this is my second, Tris. Tris this is my…” Anya looks over to me as if to ask if it is alright to call her, her daughter. I nod my head. “My daughter, Clarke. She is the one that went missing six years ago.“Missing,” I ask. “I did not do missing, I went on an adventure to see the world,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest, pouting silently to myself.“But as you can see, even though she is six years older, she still acts like a 12 year old.” This earns a laugh from Anya and Tris but she quickly stops as she sees the wings on Clarkes back spread back out to full length.“Oh stop, you are not scaring anyone her with that pathetic show.” Anya says as she walks into the cave, past Tris.“Oh really, you should have seen all of the people that soiled their pants when they saw my wings. And I think that I am having the same effect of your second.” I can see the blush creeping up on Tris’s cheek as I walk past her. I notice that she is not following so I turn back around. “Are you going to come in?” I ask and I can see the blush on her cheeks brighten. I walk farther into the cave, approaching Anya who has settled down next to the fire I created last night.“I had saved this since the last time you were here. I had kept it with me, always.” Anya reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a tattered piece of paper. She starts to unfold it and hands it to me. I start to read it and realize that it is the note I left her.“Nomon, you did not have to keep this.”“I did, it was one of the things I had to remember you by, so I kept it. After Lexa had found it, the last thing I wanted to do was throw it away. So I cherished it, not knowing if I would see you again. I may not have shown it then, but I do love you.” A tear formed in my eye, as I try to wipe it away I say.“I love you too, nomon. Any how did Lexa find it, I did not think she knew of this place.”“She did not, but the day I returned from my trip to Polis I had asked Lexa to accompany me to TonDC. I told her I had something to show her. I was going to introduce you two again, but when we got to the cave, you were gone. She found the note and I came back here every day for the first year to see if you had come back.” My lips turn to a small smile as I think of Lexa, and Anya notices. “No, no thinking about Lexa now. You are back home and we are going to talk about where you have been.” I groan but agree. Tris has seated herself across the from us and I start talking about what I had seen. I talk about the ocean I crossed when my wings were strong enough. The desert I was in not a week prior and the bandits and scuffles I had encountered during my time away. I tell them of the time I had triumphed in a battle and I can see Anya straighten her back and puff out her chest in pride. I can also see that the blush on Tris's cheek has not gone down since outside the cave, Anya must notice to because she questions her.“Tris, what is bothering you?” I chuckle and how much deeper the blush gets on her tanned skin.“I have not seen something so pretty in my life, and I can't stop admiring its wings.” Tris says truthfully, which make the smile drop from Anya's lips and for my spine to stiffen. “Tris” Anya scolds. “It is fine Anya, I am used to being seen as a monster.” I say as I look down and start to hide my wings. “But thank you for the compliment anyway.”“Tris, apologize, I thought I taught you better than to people you may think are lower than you because they are different.”“I am sorry Clarke, I did not mean to be mean. I did not know if you were a person or an animal. Can you forgive me?” The fear in Tris's voice is what brakes Clarke. That nothing has changed and that Lexa will still look at her as different, a freak.“Yes, i can. There is no reason to be afraid. From the stories, i have told I may appear strong. But I am broken, there is no reason to fear something that is broken.” I say as I get up and walk over to my furs, laying down and facing the other way from the two.I can hear muffled voices behind me, and then there is someone laying down next to me. I can smell who it is, so I shuffle back into her, and wait for her to wrap her arms around me. Just like six years ago, strong arms circle around my belly and I relax in her arms.“Tris did not mean to offend, she was confused. When you left, people did not like different. They still don't, but I can guarantee that there is one person that will not treat you that way.” I turn around in my nomons arms.“You?” I ask with a small smirk on my face. I jerk when I feel fingers enter my side but stay close to my nomon. “Of course me, but you want to know who else?” I nod my head thinking that this will be some kind of joke that will make me feel better. “Lexa won't think that way. She has been waiting for you to return so she can apologize.” I shake my head. “If that is true, then I wish for her to not know who I am.”“Why, for as long as I can remember she has been your one and only? Has anything changed? Have you found someone else?” The question came out of Anya's mouth so fast, she might have missed a few thinking of answers for the others.“No nothing has changed. I just want her to want me based on me, and not her feeling guilty for something she did so long ago.” I say with finality as I turn back around, pushing myself back into the comforting embrace of my nomon. Anya's arms once again wrap around me and I all of the sudden feel tired. Even though it is still early evening, the day had taken a lot from me. I fall asleep thinking about what I should do next now that I'm home. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Clarke, Clarke wake up.” I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder as I am gentle coaxed awake. The soothing voice of my nomon makes my eyes open to see her sitting in front of me. “I can see you still don't like to be woken early?” Anya laughs and she taps me harder on the shoulder and stands. I groan as I stand, moving over to the water skin that was lying on the ground next to the bed of furs. “I haven't had to wake up early for the past six years Anya, so forgive me for not being used to it.” Taking a sip of water, I wipe my mouth and move to strap on my discarded weapons. My multiple daggers I had accumulated throughout my journey and my precious sword that Anya had made me. Once I'm done with the task, I turn around to see that Anya had been staring at me with a look of fear in her eye. Understanding where this has come from, I walk over to her and I wrap her in a hug. “Nomon, I am not leaving, I just thought that we could go to TonDC since I have not properly seen it yet.” I feel Anya hug me back and she shakes her head. This must be hard on her. In my time with her, she had not shown much emotion. This must be making her feel weak. “Besides, I have had my fill of the world. I think it's time to relax.” “Relax?” Anya laughs, “You have to show me how you have gotten to be such an efficient fighter.” I groan at the thought of having to train with Anya again, but I nod my head while I let go of her. “Now, you’re right, let us go to TonDC. We have spent enough time with our emotions.” I nod my head in agreement once more while we walk out of the entrance.“Where did Tris go, I have not seen her at all this morning?”“She has returned back to TonDC to inform the people that I am out hunting and will be back today,” Anya says with a slight frown. I remember back to what Tris had said yesterday and go to reasure Anya that it is fine.“Nomon, she was confused. I am sure that she did not mean to offend me.” I say, but Anya looks unconvinced but does not continue the conversation. We walk in silence, enjoying each other's company. With the short walk, there would not be much time to talk about anything anyway. Once the gate of TonDC comes into view Anya breaks the silence. “When we get up there, you will state yourself when the guard asks who you are.” I hum with acknowledgment as we approach the gate.“Who are you and what is your business here.”“I am Clarke kom Trikru and I…”“Her business does not concern you, she is here as my guest.”“Of course, Anya kom Trikru.” The guard waves his hand, signaling for the gate to be opened. Walking into the center of TonDC was more like a mini city more than a village. The people were moving back and forth with tasks to complete. The trade tables were set up with high quality goods ranging from furs to steel weapons and even rare plants not found in Trikru lands. With traveling the world, there had been massive cities with twice as many people, but for this to be a village, incredible. “Nomo,” I stop speaking and I look over at Anya, not knowing if it was ok to call her that in public.“It is alright in private but with me being a general of the commander, it would not look well if I were to have a child with no father.” I understand, so I call her by her name.“Anya, this is incredible. This is more like a city than a village. I have seen massive cities, but this is almost as hectic as those. The traders are selling only the best quality of goods. I am surprised that they are here and not in Polis.” I say, wondering why the traders here are not in Polis. I had heard rumors of the trader stalls in Polis, and the ones in TonDC matched those stories perfectly. “They are here because there was no more space in Polis.” I jump with anticipation of what the streets of polis must look like. “But we should get to the training ground. We wouldn't want to waste any time at the market now would we?” I groan as Anya laughs, knowing that I would have liked to spend the rest of the day in the market.“Fine, but I want to come back later.” Anya nods her head with a smirk planted on her lips as she walks in a different direction. I follow her. As we near the training pits, I can see some guards sparing each other. They are all moving with practiced ease and she feels her confidence grow because this is something she is good at. She had spent a long time perfecting her fighting styles over the years after all. “Who would you like to fight?” Anya asks me. I look over to her and I shrug. Anya looks back to the guards fighting and calls one over. “Clarke, you will be fighting Ralph, he is one of our more capable guards here and should give you a challenge.” Ralph looks to be a full foot taller that her, huge muscles and a couple tattooed on his bald head. I nod my head in respect toward him as we both make our way to the training area. Anya stops the other spars as she wants to see her daughter fight.“Don't worry, I will not hurt you,” Ralph says as he gets ready in his fighting stance.“Than that is what will make you lose,” I say as I wipe all emotion from my face. Making me unreadable. Almost like I am not even there. My eyes are cold and calculating. My effect on intimidation must have worked because Ralph hesitated in his stance for a moment. This moment was when I striked. I swung wide and sloppy towards his head. Ralph, being an experienced fighter, easily blocked this but before he could counter, I through another sloppy attack at his head. He blocked again and I through attack after attack. Eventually, Ralph sidestepped the attack and went for an attack of his own. With what he had probably seen, I was just an inexperienced fighter who his general thought could beat him. He went for a swift strike at her back, but what he was not expecting was for Clarke to dodge at the very last second, hit his blade to make him over exaggerate his attack and finish with her own blade resting against his neck. “You should not have held back, you should have moved faster.”“Then how about we go again and I will not underestimate you this time.” He smiles, and I give him a small one back before I slip back into the icy mask. We go at it again, this time he was going more on the attack. He was moving faster trying to overpower me. He was fighting like a very skill bandit. Fast and calculating. “At least now you have sped up,” I say at I block every hit with ease. At his next swing comes in high I see my opportunity. I raise my sword to block and as the two blades connect, I push off my back foot and ram my right shoulder into his stomach. My blade was still connected to his so I push hard to make his arm move back as continue with my movement and apply just enough pressure with my blade to cut through his shirt and leave a shallow cut on his stomach. The look of awe on his face was enough to tell me that he knew he was not expecting that. I hear a huff to my right and see a dark skinned woman standing next to Anya. She looks unimpressed while Anya is standing straight with pride.“He is a skilled fighter but he does not have the experience of a warrior yet, you would not last one minute against a Trikru warrior.” Ralph hangs his head in shame as he walks to the healer's hut to get his cut looked at.I laugh at the statement as I walk back to Anya. “I am feeling quite hungry, is there a place where I can get something to eat.”“Of course, this is TonDC after all, Follow me,” Anya says as we walk side by side talking about the spar that had just taken place. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- After eating and talking to anya about unimportant things, we make our way over the homes. There is a medium sized structure that Anya starts walking to. The house is made out of wood as are most of the buildings around here are. There is one floor and looks to be home to someone of high authority due to the banners that hung from the walls. Walking closer to the house I realize that this must be where anya lives.“Anya, is this where you live now?” i ask as we make our way through the door. I get a hum in agreement as the door is closed behind us. The inside is very simple and bland. Only the necessities are inside like a table and few furniture. I look to my right to see a room with weapons in it, and to my left which looks like the bedroom. We walk further into the house and anya shows me a large bed already made with furs. I look at my mother in confusion.“This is where you will be staying. When I was given this house, I made sure there was a room for you when you got back.” I notice the restraint on her face as she says this to me. She is trying not to cry. I walk close to her and wrap my arms around the taller woman. “Mochof, Nomon.” I say as i squeeze her before letting go. The moon has already appeared in the sky so we say our good nights before we sleep. Anya starts to make her way out of her room but I stop her. “Nomon, would it be ok of you slept with me tonight?” I ask in a small voice as i think i might sound to childish.“Of course little one.” anya says before climbing into the bed of furs and they both fall asleep. Slowly gaining conscience, she feels a warm body next to her, she smiles as she realizes she is indeed back within her mother's arms and it is not a dream.Slowly trying to get out of the bed so as to not wake her mother, she walks a silently as she can to the entrance of the house. Opening the door, she steps out into the fresh cool air. Taking a deep breath, she walks to the eating area is. She grabs two servings of meat and fruit. One for her mother and herself. Starting the journey back she notices an even larger house than anyas. She had seen it the day before but didnt think much of it. Today though, she did see that there were indeed torches lit on the outside of the home that were not lit or even there yesterday. Wondering who had arrived to seat themselves in the best home in TonDC, she makes her way back to anyas home.Opening and closing the front door, she sets the food in the small table and makes her way back into her room. She chuckles slightly as her mother is still sleeping. Although she did get up early this day, the sight of her mother's messy, dirty blonde hair was an amusing sight. Walking over and shaking her awake. “Nomon, i have brought food.” she whispers lightly into anyas ear who sits up and stands stands up like she had not just been sleeping. Anya smiles at me as we both make our way into the main living area to eat.“Nomon, who lives in the big house in the center of the village?” i ask, curious as to who warrants such luxury.“The commander lives there when she visits.” anya says as she strains to keep from saying anything more on the topic. “ Oh, I see. Will i get to meet her so i know who to bow to?”“You will eventually meet her. Today, tomorrow, the day after, who knows. But im sure when you do, you will know it's her.” anya says, a slight smirk playing on her lips as she says this. I dismiss it though as she could be smirking at many things.“Hmmm, i'm sure i will.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Finishing the breakfast meal, I prepare myself for the day. Getting ready with my knives and my sword. I put on my armor and coat and walk to the door. When I reach for the handle, the door is already opening, a woman with brunette hair now standing opposite me. I am about to ask why she would dare to barge into the general's home like how she did, until I made eye contact with her. Her green eyes made me have flashbacks to when I was younger, when I was nothing but a child in training, being hidden from the world. I falter, words getting stuck in my throat as I stare at my one love in front of me. When I regain my composure, I really look at what time has done to Lexa. I can see that she has put on an impressive mask. She looks almost the same, just prettier. He eyes are the same, and those eyes are what mine are drawn back to. Its when we made eye contact for the second time is when I see it. She is angry, annoyed? I wonder who cause her to be annoyed. I was about to say something when Lexa spoke first.“Who are you? Why are you Here?” she asks in an even, stoic tone. I furrow my brow in confusion until it hits me. She doesn't remember me. My heart has never hurt so much before. I am about to respond again until she speaks again. “It doesn't matter, go get the general and I some food.” she waves of as she steps inside the house. I am on the verge of tears. I have barely had a full conversation and I wish I had never come back. I guess things never change. I hide my hurt.“If you want food, ask a servant, I am not under your command and so you can't tell me what to do,” I say, about to walk out of the room.“You will speak to me in respect, I am the commander of the 12 clans, you are under my rule. Now, go get the general and I food.” Lexa says this in the same calm and even voice. I hold eye contact with her for a few seconds.“No,” I say, calm despite the hurt wanting to seep into my voice.“Anya,” Lexa calls into the home. Anya comes as commanded and waits, looking at me and Lexa with hope in her eyes. “Have a guard escort her to the tree, she will be wiped for disrespecting me.” I no longer feel hurt, all I feel is anger. I feel anger and I let it show. Before I can talk back Anya interrupts me.“Lexa, you have to reconsider, why would you want to put my child on the tree, what would you do to frustrate her?” I relax slightly, at least one person cares about me.I glare at Lexa, seeing that she is putting what Anya just said together. It takes a few seconds until I can see she understands. “Clarke… I.. I didn't know it was you, I'm sorr..” “Your sorry Lexa? Well, I should have known that some people don't change, maybe being the commander even made you worse. Don't worry though, it's not like I came back to the Trikru for you. Waited six years to see if you would see me as more than a monster, but I guess I was wrong.” I turn to Anya. “Thank You for defending me.” I shoot one last glare at Lexa before I make my way to the door. “Clarke, please don't leave, not again.” I hear Anya say. I turn around, look at Lexa, seeing that she is deep in thought. Looking at Anya I say.“I'll be back. If you need me, you know where to find me,” I say, taking one last look at Lexa before releasing my wings. “I hope this fits your image of me Lexa,” I say with a hate in my voice. I know I'll regret saying it later, but right now, I'm so angry. I step out of the house and jump as high as I can, Pushing hard with my wings to get high in the sky. Feeling the wind across my face, the cool air, I let the tears go. Wet streaks on my cheeks as I fly my way towards my cave.
10617291	The Perils of	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Leonard \"Bones\" McCoy, Spock", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by StellarLibraryLady", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-13T00:00:00", "words": "1,000", "Additional Tags": "Domestic Fluff, Spring Housecleaning, Nostalgia, McCoy In Tight Levis, McCoy In Black Muscle Shirt, McCoy In Frilly Apron, McCoy With Feather Duster, Appreciative Spock, Fluff and Humor", "Relationship": "Leonard \"Bones\" McCoy/Spock", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Stellar Flash Fiction", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“Spock, what is this?” Spock fought down the impulse to answer, ‘What does it look like?’ for he had no idea what McCoy had come across. It could be anything from a used insulin syringe to a withered leaf from an elephant ear begonia. But since there was no reason why either of those items should be in their quarters, that eliminated two possibilities. However, the number of other choices were virtually endless. How could two fussy old bachelors accumulate such items, and so much of them? Another reason, and perhaps the best for not answering McCoy with the first thing to cross his mind (even if it was highly logical), was that McCoy would take it as a personal affront steeped with condescension. The acidic tirade caused by that remark would cause a stop in their original project if not a general shutdown while McCoy aired his grievances, either real or imaginary. Then McCoy would proceed to rant while Spock steadily began to fear for McCoy’s blood pressure. Meanwhile the minutes for vigorous headway would slide away from them, as well as their energy and incentive. “I do not know, Leonard. I am finding questionable items, also.” There! That should take McCoy’s attention away from whatever he had found. Of course, it might also set up the dangerous scenario that McCoy would not only want to survey, but discuss and access the ‘questionable’ items that Spock had found. Spock had to take the chance. McCoy appeared in black hip hugging levis and black muscle shirt, an outfit guaranteed to set Spock’s heart aflutter at any time and stir definite interest in other parts of himself. What enhanced the picture, though, but almost seemed ridiculous, was the frilly yellow apron around McCoy’s waist. McCoy held a feather duster in one hand and a lump of black something in the other. “What is it? An asteroid?” he quizzed as he studied it with a blank look on his face. “An experiment that failed, but you couldn’t bear to dispose of it because it was so close to your heart?“ He rotated it in his hand while continuing to study the lump. “Your heart?” “Please, Leonard. How prosaic!” McCoy gave him a wicked grin and chalked up one score for himself, even if Spock thought that the comment lacked imagination. McCoy thought it was rather clever, himself. McCoy considered the lump. “Coal? Petrified dinosaur shit? If it is, no wonder the dinosaur died. I bet that hurt to pass. That must‘ve been some really tough--” Spock took the lump from McCoy. “I believe that this is a rock from the desert.” McCoy shrugged. “See one desert rock, you’ve seen them all.” “You know that is incorrect, Leonard. As a scientist, you recognize that there are many kinds of rocks. Why the types, alone, are varied: igneous, sedimentary, and conglomerate. And where the rocks are from also tell a story of climate, habitation, native flora and fauna, landscape features, adaptability, and more information about an area.” “What does this particular desert rock tell you?” “That its companions are gone.” “Huh?” “It is a rock from the deserts of Vulcan.” “Spock, I’m sorry. I had no idea what it meant to you.” “I should put it away so that it will not be in the way.” “Nonsense! It means something to you. It should be out so that you can see it and be reminded of home.” “A home that no longer exists, Leonard. This is my home now. Wherever you and Jim are. That is home.” McCoy batted a hand at his eyes. “Damn dust! I’ll be getting dust pneumonia next! Why did we ever start this cleaning, anyway?!” That surprised Spock. Even now, McCoy could still do that. “You said it was a rite of Spring,” Spock explained. “Well, you should have stopped me.” McCoy was then treated to the display of a genuine emotion on Spock’s face: Complete astonishment. “What?!” McCoy demanded. Danged if you do, Spock considered, danged if you don’t. He never completely understood that Earthling saying until just now. Or appreciated it, the way he suddenly did. True, he could not lie. But he could divert. “Will we be doing this also in the Autumn?” “Of course! Hard telling how many mysterious gimcracks would winter here unless we grub them out then.” “So, we would not really need to be doing this activity now? We will deal with them in the Autumn, anyway.” Spock knew that the logic was sound, FOR THE MOMENT, but not for the overall concept. But McCoy was willing to grab at it. He was tired of Spring housecleaning. “I’m finding things I really don’t know what to do with. My aunt used to say that she would keep fifteen percent and toss five percent. Easy! But then what do you do with the other eighty percent? It was not good enough to keep, but too good to toss. A person just got frustrated, and eventually just shoved it away into a dark corner for someone else to judge. Damn nuisances, that‘s what I say! And all junk!” “But it is all memories, Leonard. The evidence of a life lived. And whether good memories or bad, it still means something.” McCoy nodded slowly. “What happened to your aunt’s collections?” He had barely stopped himself in time from saying ‘hoard.’ McCoy smirked. “Damn house burned down with all of her ‘treasures’ inside! Saved herself and her two cats, though. Which, when you come down to it, was what was important and what she really needed.” “That is the criteria we should really use, Leonard.” “And keep it all?” McCoy asked with a lazy smile. “They are our memories.” “We’ve dusted pretty well and moved things around. Why not call it a day and get cleaned up? How about grabbing a shower?” Spock’s inscrutable face almost hid his dancing eyes. “Together?” McCoy‘s eyes flashed back. “It would save water. And soap.” “Really, Leonard?” “Let‘s find out!”
10606380	The beauty of illiteracy	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "LeFou (Disney), Stanley (Disney: Beauty and the Beast), Belle (Disney)", "Fandom": "Beauty and the Beast (2017)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by TinyPlanetExplorer", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-12T00:00:00", "words": "1,556", "Additional Tags": "Illiterate lefou, dress wearing stanley, They're cute, gaston is dead, Lefou kinda has a thing for stanley's bum, is there anything major to tag, Friends to Lovers, lefou is precious, this was an accident", "Relationship": "LeFou/Stanley (Disney: Beauty and the Beast)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply", "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	It has been exactly one week since the curse has been lifted and to celebrate the occasion, prince Adam and Belle have decided to throw a royal ball, this time not for the beauties from all over the globe, but for all the inhabitants of the small village of Villeneuve. So, for this very special occasion, Stanley throws on his finest evening clothes, underlining his eyes with a slight amount of coal to bring out his eyes and paints his lips a slightly darker shade. The make-up was subtle, but knowing he was about to go out with his face coloured makes excitement settle in his bones. Stanley mounts his horse, more than a little looking forward to an evening promising of laughter and joy, rather than the darkness the village has found themselves in for the past while. Now that Gaston is gone, the villagers somehow appear to have found light in their everyday lives again, no longer living in the shadow of the ‘greatest man Villeneuve has ever known’. All the villagers felt a sense of freedom and purpose in their days, time to make their own decisions instead of being sheep, doing all Gaston had asked. The people found peace.Well, most people anyways. “LeFou!” Stanley spurs on his horse to start riding next to that of LeFou’s. “Good evening, Stanley.” LeFou smiles politely and without much talking, the two make their way over to the castle. Nerves are evident on LeFou’s face, something Stanley understands completely, for he too, feared the reaction of the village towards him, Tom and Dick after Gaston’s passing.After Gaston died, LeFou has become lost. He has always, ever since childhood, had Gaston beside him, had Gaston to look up to and admire. To listen to and to follow his every command. It wasn’t a healthy relationship the two had, per se, but LeFou had purpose in his life, and after so long, that purpose is gone. And now more than ever before, Stanley wants to hold LeFou close, telling him that he will find his way, that he will be okay. And now more than ever, Stanley’s heart breaks from the knowledge he is unable to do just that. * The evening is going incredibly well and LeFou is enjoying himself immensely. Despite this, he can’t help but sometimes allow his eyes to wonder to the dancing form of Stanley, dressed so different from his usual salmon coloured clothing, yet the black and white suit him incredibly well. LeFou quickly turns his gaze back to his dance partner and smiles politely. She is a sweet looking girl, a couple of inches shorter than LeFou himself. She’s pleasant to look at, but that’s about it. She isn’t LeFou’s type, simply said.No, his type was dancing a few feet away from him, with a big smile on his face and his hair tied in an elegant ponytail.It is then, that Stanley decides to look up, catching LeFou’s gaze and grinning broadly at the man, causing LeFou to blush and quickly looking back to his own dance partner. He hears Stanley laugh next to him. * Not long after that encounter, it is time to switch partners. LeFou twirls his current partner around, hands ready to clasp around yet another delicate waist of another short girl.Only whatever he put his hands on just now was definitely a lot firmer than a woman’s waist. The two men look at each other in surprise, like neither can fully comprehend what is happening. LeFou looks up at Stanley’s glistening eyes and boyish grin and quickly takes his hands off Stanley’s butt, placing one hand on Stanley’s hip and the other on his arm as they dance around each other.Stanley chuckles and the two of them start dancing as natural as if it was always meant to be. Or, at least, as natural as Stanley can muster, because he is finally dancing with the man he has had his eyes on for years and LeFou is looking so happy and completely in his element in Stanley’s arms.Not to mention, LeFou grabbed his bum and the mere thought of it gives Stanley breathing issues, if he’s being completely honest. When the song finishes, the pair reluctantly lets go of one another, both walking into another direction and hurrying out of the ballroom, their cheeks red and their grins face splittingly wide. * It took a while before either of them mustered up the courage to have any form of contact with the other. The first one to step up is Stanley.Taking a deep breath, he walks past LeFou’s little cottage one sunny morning (when he knows LeFou to be at the market to buy his weekly flowers) sliding a letter underneath the man’s door. Not a face to face encounter, but it’s a start.When LeFou arrives home later that day, he is surprised to find a letter inside his home, but he can’t help but feel disappointment settle on him like a weight as he stares at the letters he never has been taught to understand. * Uncertain, LeFou shuffles onto the village square two days later. He has thought long and hard and has finally come up with an idea to discover the sender of the letter. What better way is there to finally learn how to read? Right there, at the fountain, Belle was sitting with a book in her lap. Breathing in deeply through his nose, he steps towards her. “Ehm… Hi, Belle!” She looks up after finishing the page she was reading, dragging her eyes away from the book. “Bonjour, LeFou.” She smiles kindly at him. He sits down next to her, fidgeting his hands. “Can I help you with something?” “I’m illiterate.” He blurts, red covering his cheeks as he looks up at her. Somewhere behind them he hears Tom laugh at something Stanley apparently said and he sets his shoulders a little higher. For him, LeFou could do this. “But I really do want to learn how to read. And I was wondering-” “I would love to help you, LeFou.”And so, Belle and LeFou fall into a pattern, meeting in the castle library, surrounding themselves with books, parchment, ink and quills. Every week, LeFou would learn new words and letters and every week he got to read and understand a little more from Stanley’s letter. Until one week, he understood. Dear LeFou, mon amour, I had the most wonderful time at the ball and I can’t help but think about our dance the majority of the time. You’re a great dancer, mon LeFou. Ton Stanley. LeFou struggles his way through the letter and when he’s done, he has the biggest grin on his face he’s had since the ball.He takes out a piece of parchment and ink Belle has given him to practise his letters and starts writing a reply. He knows what he wants to say to Stanley, now all he has to do is try and get the words onto the paper. Deer Stanley, Thank yu vor yur lettre. I also hed many funn at the bal, thanks too yu. It made me feell beter about myself then I hav in a long tym. Ton LeFou. He waits until he knows for certain Stanley will be at the tavern with Dick and Tom until sliding the note underneath the door, before hurrying back home. * Dear Stanley, I would like you to know that you are very special and dear to me. That night, at the ball, it gave me hope. After Gastons death, I thought my life would become without meaning. You proved me wrong, mon Stanley, you give my life meaning. Your letters give my life meaning. And I wand to thank you for that. I know that its been almost a year since your first letter, every single one just as special as the next. Merci, mon amour. Ton LeFou Stanley slips the letter in the top of his dress, re-adjusting his hair.“It is time.” * The church bells chant a happy song, signalling that there is a new, happily wed couple in town. Never in a million years has LeFou thought those bells would chant for him, but here he was, alongside the most gorgeous man he’s ever laid eyes on. Who would have thought what for beauty there would be in words and letters?He looks up from thought when a hand appears in his eyesight. “Care for a dance, mon amour?” “Bien sûr, mes époux.” LeFou stands up taking Stanley’s hand, loving the red colouring Stanley’s cheeks from nothing more than his words. Even though they have been married for maybe just over an hour, LeFou has discovered he loves calling Stanley his husband, loving Stanley’s response to it all.He leads his very handsome husband to the dance floor, leading the dance. “Je t’aime, LeFou.” “Je t’aime, Stanley. And your dress is beautiful, but not half as gorgeous as the man wearing it.” LeFou winks, twirling Stanley around. When Stanley turns back into his arms, Stanley gives him a mock glare. “I would very much appreciate it if you would take your hand away from my bum, Monsieur LeFou.” LeFou laughs. “Would you really?” Stanley rolls his eyes, but leans forward anyways, kissing his husband.
10677768	Work-outs For Dummies	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Nina Dobrev, Ian Somerhalder", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by badboy_fangirl", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-20T00:00:00", "words": "1,074", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Nina Dobrev/Ian Somerhalder", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Vampire Diaries RPF, Real Person Fiction", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The day Nina gets permission from The CW execs to cut her hair, she's so excited, she nearly tells complete strangers in the grocery store. That's partly because the call comes while she's shopping and partly because when she decided she needed a change, she was sure her bosses wouldn't go for it. They had always been very specific about how her hair should look, and the only way she convinced them was by playing the 'Elena's changed so much this season, there should be an outward manifestation of her inner turmoil' card.Funnily enough, that had worked. Probably also, Julie had gone to bat for her. But whatever the case, she was getting her hair cut and she couldn't wait. As soon as she disconnected that call, she immediately dialed her hairdresser and made an appointment.She doesn't tell Ian because she wants to surprise him. He's essentially the best boyfriend in the world for noticing new outfits or new jewelry or new anything at all -- very observant, her southern gentleman -- so she thinks it will be great to just let him see it when he gets home. Luckily, she made her appointment on a day she isn't working, but he is.She plans it out perfectly. After her hairdresser shows her a few ways to style it, she goes home for a work out, leaving herself plenty of time to shower, play with her hair, and be ready when Ian gets home from work. Sexy new hair should lead to sexy fun times, she's sure of it.What's that saying about best laid plans...?(Yeah, it doesn't happen the way she envisions, but that's okay because it ends up being hotter than she hoped.)She's doing the scorpion pose against the wall in the spare bedroom when she hears his key in the door. It's only because she has great balance that she doesn't fall over and injure herself; she's so shocked that he's home early and disappointed that her hair is in a messy ponytail on top of her head. She instantly flips herself into an upright position as he hollers, "Babe, you home?" from the front room."Yeah...in here," she calls back, feeling really deflated about the whole stupid thing. She knows it's just hair, but still. She had a plan. Ian's head appears around the door jamb, and a big smile lights his face. "We finished early!" he says happily, and she understands. It's a rare thing in the television world to get off work early. He stares at her intently for a moment and just when she's about to ask what?he paces quickly over to her, and his hands go straight for the waistband of her work-out shorts.His fingers worm their way under both the shorts and her thong, tucking down over her hipbones. "You look hot," he breathes, his lips hovering over hers.She pushes the hair drama from her mind, smiling as his mouth brushes hers. "I am hot," she says with a giggle. "I'm working out.""I'll give you a work out," he murmurs, opening his mouth to suck her top lip between both of his. His tongue teases, flicking in and out of her parted lips. It makes her arch into him (so, a normal tactic for him), but then he drags his head back slightly so that the kiss can't get deeper.She jerks her lips away from his and then slides her arms around his neck and jumps up, wrapping her legs around his hips. His hands easily grip her ass and help her grind against him, but then he turns suddenly and shoves her up against the wall so that the only thing between them is her shorts and his jeans.Now, when he kisses her, he goes full-on, doesn't hold back, doesn't tease her. But it's slow, and thorough, and as he swivels his hips into hers, Nina whimpers. But she knows what to do to get him good, too: she sucks his tongue into her mouth. One of his hands quickly wedges between them, opening his jeans, and shifting her wide-legged shorts and underwear out of the way. As he slides into her, all thoughts of pretty hair and compliments and seduction slip away, and with each knowing movement of his body into hers, she finds herself that much more in love with him.She doesn't get why people who have been together for a long time get tired of each other; for her, the fact that he knows her so well, and knows what she needs and wants is the big draw. She loves being known. "Ian," she pants."What?" he asks, lifting his mouth from hers to trail his tongue down her throat.She cants her hips up into his, throwing his slow rhythm off a bit. "Faster," she moans, and he laughs, tipping his head up."No," he whispers. "Slow is better. You want to get your full work-out in." He pulls out in an even slower rhythm and then shoves himself back in hard, causing her to gasp harshly, but then he goes completely still."You ass," she accuses, purposely clenching around him. The muscle in his jaw twitches and his eyes flinch just a little, but she can see the smile in them. "I'm just giving it to you good, baby," he murmurs, and that's almost enough to make her come, because he's so fucking sexy that he drives her crazy.He reaches a hand up, still stalling before he moves inside her again, and pulls her hair down from its ponytail. She closes her eyes and pretends she's doing Kegel exercises to make him do what she wants.She feels his breath against her cheek when he moans, "Fuck, Neen," and then he asks, his voice incredulous, "Did you cut your hair?"Nina starts laughing, and opens her eyes to find him looking at her hair, wonder on his face. "Surprise!" she says, weakly, since she's sort of halfway to an orgasm. He touches it, his fingers tugging her side-swept bangs gently. "Hmmm," he breathes. "Sexy.""You think so?" she asks."Yeah," he says, grinning. "Then, will you please fuck me?" she demands, shoving her hips into his again.He smirks. "Yes, ma'am."(Later, after more sex in the shower, she shows him her new, dry hair. He proceeds to mess it up by fucking her again in their bed.)
10618896	Beaten Not Broken	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Ardyn Izunia, Noctis Lucis Caelum, Shiva (Final Fantasy XV), Ifrit (Final Fantasy XV)", "Fandom": "Final Fantasy XV", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by LonelyAche", "chapters": "1/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-13T00:00:00", "words": "4,326", "Additional Tags": "Psychological Torture, Torture, Necrophilia, sorta - Freeform, Hallucinations, Blood and Violence, Angst, Gore, Eventual Happy Ending, Rape/Non-con Elements, Past Rape/Non-con, past a whole lot of crap, poor Ardyn, Fix-It, Time Travel Fix-It", "Relationship": "Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ardyn Izunia", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con", "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	In the end, he had won. If he’d been capable of it, he would’ve laughed. The thought made little sense to Ardyn as his mind was picked apart; whatever had been left of his soul was torn free from the Starscourge’s festering grip by Noctis’ weapons and the Kings of ancient Lucis.Still, that single thought remained, like a bright thread of light; even as everything else turned dark and Ardyn finally got the rest he’d craved for millennia. He had won. Astrals be damned, he’d finally gotten his revenge. Now he was happy to obey the words of a boy who’d hated him to the core, whom Ardyn had wanted to rip apart and tear inside him – his King, after all: Noctis had been the one to grant him this release. He closed his eyes as he waited for the shadows simmering around him to take him, too; to take his mind and his soul to nothingness, to forever.Had he been corporeal, still, Ardyn would’ve felt himself smile. Instead, the ghostly sensation of tugging around where his lips should’ve been was all he got. It was good. And when was the last time he’d used that word? Good? Yes. Good.The satisfaction was short lived.Where there should’ve been the utter nothingness of the void, Ardyn’s feet collided with something solid. He startled – because he was gone; because he was dead – just in time to fall forward, bringing both his arms against his chest in ways of a shield. It didn’t stop. Ardyn knew, somewhere in his head, with thoughts that weren’t quite his, that he was defenceless, even as he hurtled forward and thrashed about, tangling himself in something smooth and soft, and unyielding.Ardyn pushed the thick blanket off him. He fought to sit up, to breathe. A mattress sprung slightly under his weight and he bounced forward an inch. Non-existence didn’t seem very non-existent any longer, not with his bare foot lodged somewhere and his arms aching from the sheer effort it’d taken to set himself free. Beads of sweat rolled down his face, down the smooth curve of his chin. It reeked of sweet, syrupy medicine all around and all over him and he didn’t dare open his eyes. Whatever this was, it had to be one step – another step – towards his blessed, ungodly rest.It didn’t matter that deep in the wreckage of his memories, the soft yellow light touching his eyelids was so familiar and so warm it coiled in his throat and ached deep inside of his chest. For a moment, Ardyn opened his mouth to speak, then to scream. The physical pain he’d always withstood, and, perhaps perversely, he’d enjoyed it too. When Noctis had sunk those swords into him, Ardyn had relished in the sensation. When Noctis had carved them deep through his shoulders, his abdomen, his limbs, pleasure had blurred his eyes, at his own death. And how perverse was that? It hadn’t been enough. Not until he’d fallen and bid the King his farewell.Now, the sharp agony of remembrance seeped into his every pore. For the first time in longer than he’d kept count, Ardyn’s hands trembled with the fear of knowing what the scourge had destroyed in him. He’d moved on so long ago and never turned back. He’d embraced what he had become until the daemons in him were all he’d ever known and revenge was all he’d ever sought.Ardyn’s fist curled over his own thigh. So small and naked, and so, so unfamiliar to him. Fingertips dug into his skin until he knew a bruise would flourish there soon and he drank in the familiar ache of physical pain. He was still for a very long time, trying not to think of the implications of any of it – because he had won and the idea of a worthless victory was not in him to consider. His hands didn’t move. His entire leg throbbed, a pain that ran bone deep. Still, like before with Noctis, it wasn’t deep enough, not until he’d carved himself out of this body.He was a broken record.A mess.An amalgamation of corrupted memories and the lingering taint of the Starscourge colouring his every action since the beginning of time.“Still asleep, prince?”A voice shattered the silence at the same time the sound of a door being pushed open echoed in Ardyn ears. He yanked his arms away from himself, pushing his palms down on the mattress of the bed and blinked his eyes against the dim, sweet, and sickly light.Not only was the room barely recognizable, with its heavy and garishly coloured curtains to keep the sunlight away, it wasn’t whole either. Instead of the harsh steadiness of reality, the corners of Ardyn’s vision were dotted with a soft white glow where the walls of the room met... well, where they met nothing . Beyond the open door, the white void threatened to swallow the corridor, retreating a little when Ardyn finally focused on trying to remember where he was.“You really shouldn’t have uncovered yourself. You won’t ever recover like this,” the voice continued, and it sounded obnoxiously concerned and so warm that the lump in Ardyn’s throat swelled all over again. “Come on, let’s tuck you in.”Ardyn snapped up to stare at a woman’s face and immediately realised his mistake. Instead of features, a blurry gaping hole stared down at him. At first he thought he was looking at himself, or a daemon. Sharp, hungry lines blended together with the hints of humanoid features, twisted and ugly. If he focused, he could discern a little here and there – she had amber green eyes not too dissimilar from his own; her hair cascaded down to touch the top of Ardyn’s shoulders and the sensation was there, even if it was followed by the ghost memory of black ink dripping down his body. Horror must’ve coloured his expression, but if she noticed it Ardyn couldn’t quite tell.Instead, he was being touched all over: the heel of a palm pressed against his forehead and another brushed strands of damp hair off the sides of his face. Claws dragged against his bare chest. Or did they? He wasn’t sure if that was a past memory, but it was more physical contact that he’d had with anyone in aeons. And he didn’t have it in him to fight back.He must’ve been seven or eight and near death’s door with some sort of chocobo-carried flu; his body had ached all over, and instead of keeping a servant nearby, his own mother had decided to keep an eye on Ardyn herself. He remembered how his best friend – a shaggy black bird with a big grey beak, dark eyes and a sturdy lope – had coughed himself dry and how he’d sobbed at the makeshift funeral as if it was the most important thing in the world. He remembered – and it hit him like a freight train – the resolve that had grown inside him: to make it better. To make everyone better.He’d been ill when that resolve manifested and how very like Noctis was that . The parallels were all over Ardyn’s memory.He hated -- no, he loathed it. The King was gone, dead, and with him, his lineage. Ardyn was gone and beyond the depths of desperation and entrenched in the misery he’d experienced in his extended life; this was a horror show he didn’t know how to withstand. In the end, it was much easier to dish out torment than to take it. Ardyn knew that, but then, the difference was small when he’d been in his own personal hell for centuries.His body didn’t answer him when he tried to flinch away from his mother’s touch. Muscles moving of their own volition, Ardyn found himself reaching to cling to her. Acid curdled in his stomach, Ardyn’s breath hitched sharply in his mouth when he mechanically rested his head against her garments, unable to escape, breathing in her scent so unwillingly it hurt down his throat.The coat-dress was a mottle of colours and patterns he couldn’t quite remember, pushed against his skin. They became a blur when she held him, one arm slipped around his then small waist while the other curled over his shoulder, gently lowering him back down on the bed.“That’s better.” She smiled, but all he saw was a maw of razor sharp lines, as dark and long as teeth, reaching to engulf him. “Now try and sleep. l’ll be right here, and if you need me, you just need to call, okay?” Her voice was as sweet as gentle as nothing he could believe he’d actually experienced, even in his childhood, and Ardyn didn’t how to answer.His mouth opened and found that the words just burst out on their own: “Of course, my sweet mother. I’m sure you would want nothing more.” It sounded like him, down to the drawl, the way his tongue worked around each syllable, elongating them. Something like relief flooded Ardyn’s body and he gripped the blanket to push it away again. Maybe, maybe this was his end and maybe he could just turn it around enough to enjoy it. Maybe.A familiar darkness surged in his head, cradling Ardyn’s thoughts together until they skewed and decayed. The room faded away with a pang of... what? Loneliness? Desperation? Whatever it was, it was pushed away by the growing headache and the frustration of knowing he wasn't given enough time to adjust.Ardyn seethed. “Won’t you show yourselves already, darlings? This game is starting to bore me, and you, I imagine,” he said, speaking still to the form of his mother standing with him in the newly formed void. And he waited.In the end, he didn’t have to wait very long. The Six kept their own time and their own schedule, but even they didn’t enjoy being outplayed, and this had gone for far too long. For about two thousand years too long, plus however long he’d been stuck drifting in this timeless abyss.A burst of light, similar to the blurriness in edges of the room he’d been in, alerted Ardyn to what was happening. All of a sudden, dizzying cold hit him. He was still naked and he shuddered at it.“Ah, there you go.”Mother was still touching him and Ardyn still didn’t pull away; instead, he watched with morbid curiosity and feelings he didn’t want to feel as the dress disintegrated away to reveal pale white-blue skin, covered only by shards of ice plate over the breasts and genitals. Ardyn could’ve scowled at how obvious of a trick this was – the oldest in the book – but then, that would’ve meant he should’ve seen it coming. He hadn’t. You really don’t learn, do you? Cocking his head to the side, he regarded the Glacian . “And what exactly is this thing I’m supposed to learn, my dear Gentiana, or should I perhaps call you by your true name now?” Ardyn pondered.Shiva’s eyes were as cold as her touch on his shoulder. She ignored his comment for the most part and spoke without moving her lips, whispering icy words that burned through his haziness. You’re here to remember, little one. Remember that even you are not one to meddle with gods. “Ah yes, of course. Gods,” he gritted his teeth and exhaled in a long hiss, suddenly irritated by the turn the conversation had taken. Little? Maybe then. Now he was dead and it should’ve mattered not. “And what good have these gods done to the world in so long a time? Letting it rot away as you did.” Had you grown to realise your own role as king, it would not have happened. Her voice was soft, motherly almost. We did not abandon you, although perhaps the others would not be so kind to admit it. The blatant lie disgusted him. “Darling, you can tell me whatever you wish and we’ll both know you’re lying.” He had been abandoned by any and all, until there had nothing but what Noctis had destroyed. “I suppose you are in luck that you did have a young pretty king to manoeuvre and a prophecy to use.” He didn’t point out that Noctis had died for them, for their prophecy, for their precious clean slate on Eos. And for him, of course.Not that his sacrifice meant much when he still hadn’t gotten what he wanted. For the umpteenth time, the thought crossed his mind: he’d won. Again and again. He’d won, but it’d been a losing game all along. And now he was stuck here, wherever here was. Stuck with the Astrals mocking his lack of foresight. Sweet heavens. If that’s how you wish to see it, Ardyn, then so be it. Your death needn’t be the continuation of your torment, forevermore. The repetition of Noctis’ words sent a jolt down Ardyn’s spine that wasn’t quite physically painful as it lingered in his mind. He tasted bitterness on his tongue. If his death wouldn’t stop any of it, nothing would. His soul was clean – as clean as it’d ever be – from the Starscourge’s grip, his memories were in tatters, and he didn’t feel the slight inclination to seek them out; to seek such anguish. You need only remember, and accept your memories. Then you shall be returned. For a moment, just after a flash of colour on the invisible horizon, Ardyn saw it. He saw his kingdom, saw the wall shining brightly around Insomnia. Saw the city and his people. Saw the smiles on their faces, the peaceful breeze and the flags proud on the Palace’s courtyard. He thought he saw Noctis, just the faintest glimpse of his face, and he jerked back violently. No.“Unfortunately, your advice does come a little late. I must be older than I’d thought, so stuck in my ways, you see.”With Shiva’s hand still pressing down on his shoulder, Ardyn could barely move, otherwise he might have attempted a mocking bow. But he didn’t have his hat either, so the whole thing was to be ruined either way. Her nails dug into his skin, freezing the flesh beneath until Ardyn was sure that whenever she pulled back, he’d bleed. Wasn’t that a thought he enjoyed so much more than the vision he’d been shown. Will you ever change, little one? There was a forlorn quality to Shiva’s voice that Ardyn couldn’t remember having heard before. But since when was he really paying attention instead of taunting? You did this to yourself. Remember that, at least. And before he could come up with a reply that satisfied himself, Shiva pulled her hand away, ripping a frozen layer of pale skin in the process. Blood pooled immediately to drip down his chest, bright red even in the dark – not black, not thick and coagulated by the Scourge. She may be kinder, but she was still an Astral, and Ardyn had never trusted, liked or even tolerated any of them, nor been given any reason to.“Is this really how--” he began, words snarled.Then, in the blink of an eye, he was flung backwards as if a weightless doll, a puppet of the gods. Of course. His breath was cut short in his lungs and though he didn’t crash against anything, he flailed, trying to grasp at something to anchor himself against. Ardyn failed pathetically; he floated in the void, his legs draped open, naked and his arms somewhere above his head. His mind reeled. Memories and fake memories – products of the Starscourge, of his own past and all the atrocities he’d committed – they all flashed before his eyes.Shiva laughed softly somewhere in the distance, but there was no mirth in the sound, only pain.In the distance, Insomnia stood still, an invisible presence and a pull Ardyn had resisted for so long .Ardyn barely heard the whisper, the caress against his cheek, cold as only the Glacian herself could. Don’t forget. You still have a chance. When she left, vanishing in a trail of diamond dust, the darkness grew darker, pervasive in its intent to swallow him. Even the snapshots in his head grew darker, less truthful to what he had done, to what had actually happened: Ardyn saw himself above, inside Noctis’ defiled body.He pressed two fingers against his eyes in an attempt to lessen the throbbing ache settling in the back of his skull. Still, the images didn’t stop, and in his mind, he saw the blank, unseeing gaze in the King’s eyes; the way his arms fell limp to his sides. Noctis didn’t move, and Ardyn knew he was dead, that he’d killed him, or sucked all the life, all the goodness out of him. He saw and felt himself move into Noctis, breaking the purple skin between the boy’s legs with his claws. Briefly, he glanced up to watch the beautiful piece of bladesmithing that was King Regis' sword pierce right through Noctis’ chest, smearing dark blood across one of his nipples.Ardyn’s cock pulsed between his thighs. From his point of view he saw it drip black fluid onto Noctis’ bruised stomach. Tracing a finger through the little puddle of pre-come forming in the dead King’s belly button, he reached further down, drawing black lines, words that made no sense on Noctis’ skin. He grimaced, but was powerless to stop the hallucination from happening right before his eyes.“Oh Noct, you have never felt so good,” Ardyn moaned softly, leaning forward to caress Noctis’ cheek, running the back of his fingers across his cold, stiff jaw. “We should do this more often,” he continued as he guided his blood and scourge-slicked cock back inside Noctis’ ass, in a rhythm that was entirely pleasurable to him, fucking his body deeper, looser. He pushed and pushed until he was spent and still buried to the hilt in Noctis and he delighted in it all, so tight and so cold, so amazingly wrong and perfect.Once he was done, he yanked on the sword that he’d so painstakingly pushed through Noctis’ chest, through his lungs and spine, until blood had frothed from his lips, and smiled placidly. Ardyn waited few seconds before a jerk forced him to sit back,one hand stretching across Noctis’ lower back, pulling his body up with him. He saw the King’s eyes blink sluggishly as he tried to catch a breath and refocus.“Shhh, shhh, it’s so very good, my dear Noct.” Ardyn leaned forward and brushed their lips together in a chaste kiss. He held the handle of the sword up, its tip resting on the wound slowly knitting itself shut in Noctis’ chest, layer by layer, bone and sinew crunching as they mended. Ardyn knew that particular kind of pain all too well -- after all, he was only being considerate, was he not?“Now, now. Shall we go again?”Noctis screamed as he thrust the blade back in; he convulsed and steeled. Again.Ardyn screamed with Noctis as the sound rung in his ears, dying out as the vision moved away as if it’d never happened in the first place; as if Ardyn could simply forget it now that the Starscourge wasn’t there to pull it away. He screamed into the black nothingness, screamed himself hoarse. He screamed until it his throat was raw and blood ran down his bottom lip.When it finished, Ardyn found that he’d curled onto his side. Floating in the dark made curling somewhat difficult, but his hands were firmly pressed over his knees and his knuckles stood pale in contrast with the rest of his skin. Ardyn hadn’t gone through the motion in so long he’d forgotten how, but his body knew to tense and inhale right before he retched blood into the void. The hint of tears burned in the corner of his eyes and Ardyn swallowed through them, letting go of himself to wipe away at the pain.It was low -- even for the Astrals -- to put him through this. Hadn’t he suffered enough? The light in the distance grew bright until it was a roaring wildfire in the inky blackness. First, he saw nothing; he felt nothing but the relief of having been pulled from the nightmares that were his hallucinations, even if briefly. Then, great horns emerged from below, flaring in the distance. Unable to do much than to waddle pathetically in the dark, that very same darkness which had ended up not granting him any rest, Ardyn watched as the Infernian closed the distance between them. It was hard to judge how far apart they stood when there was nothing to compare Ifrit’s encroaching form to, but still far enough to where he couldn’t touch Ardyn; the hairs on the back of his neck bristled at the hot breath that caressed his face. Fancy seeing you here, false king. Ifrit’s growl was more beastial than it was human or even Astral. It wasn’t quite the screeching mess of the Hydrean’s words, but that meant little when it came to godly beings. Still stuck in the dark? Maybe you ought not to have flipped Shiva off so easily. She did tell you we’re not nearly as gentle. And he grinned, with a row of razor sharp teeth, elongated canines, and a black tongue dragging across his lip.Ardyn had no reason to believe it’d been a taunt. The wound on his shoulder had long since healed, leaving not even the hint of a scar marring his skin. And he’d dealt with Ifrit before, although it’d never been a particularly pleasant business. This time, Ardyn was quite aware he was playing with fire. Literal fire, like the one licking at his face as the Infernian grew closer. He’d never been too good at stopping himself, though, had he?“Wouldn’t that have been a shame? To deny you your own opportunity to torment me,” he said, aware and vaguely horrified of thoughts that still didn’t feel his . “I’m sure your dear sister has grown tired of these boring visions, either way.” Ardyn tapped the side of his head, one finger pressing on his temple. He felt claws close enough to tear his arms off. “So boring.”It was a lie, mostly. Ardyn tried not to keep count of the time he’d been left shuddering with the aftermaths of an orgasm he hadn’t experienced, wiping the blood and the tears from his mouth after screaming himself empty. After a while, even the hallucinations had grown dull, predictable, although not nearly as predictable as the foreign emotion which flooded his head after each one and told him he deserved them .Still. Boring.When Ifrit opened his mouth, Ardyn saw flickers of the beast behind the humanoid form the Astral wore. Leave her out of this. We both know I’m nothing like that... Ifrit waved one arm, his skin glowing from the inside out, illuminating the darkness around them. And we both know you’ve changed nothing, the Astral leered, and he was close enough that his lips and tip of his tongue brushed against Ardyn’s jaw. Was it the scourge? Nah, it was you. It was you. All along. Just you. A sharp pang ran across Ardyn’s chest. “Ouch, you got me: it was me. It’s still me. Isn’t that why you’re here?” He didn’t bother asking why the Six – those torturous gods – still bothered with him. Because he knew: Ardyn hadn’t let go of his victory, of his precious revenge. So he suffered in the knowledge that yes, he’d still won.Claw tips rested on the underside of his arms. Ifrit was several times bigger than Ardyn had ever been and it’d never stopped either of them. Memories of this dance came to him in little flickers, torn pages from a book that’d never be whole again, nibbled away by the Starscourge. Centuries – maybe longer – had passed since he’d coupled with the Infernian.He hadn’t wanted it back then, either. Not exactly. But then, whatever Noctis and the Astrals thought, he seldom had had choices to make.Such a cocky human. Ifrit’s voice was fire itself, cauterizing Ardyn’s skin. His lip curled and fangs lengthened in his mouth. When the Astral’s tongue lapped against his neck, Ardyn saw the flesh flake away and blood cascade down his shoulder. Let’s see if you’re still talking when I’m done with you. None of it would kill him, which didn’t mean Ardyn would enjoy it, but he’d known that the moment he’d seen the flames and he’d known not to resist an Astral, too. Centuries of fighting the scourge, of fighting his fate, of fighting Ifrit had taught him that. Indeed, when the beast forced his legs to part, Ardyn screamed -- because the pain was immense, overwhelming; insane, even. When Ifrit tore through him, with his teeth and his claws and his cock too, Ardyn’s throat was too raw, his lips torn and bloody until all he managed were little gasps, tiny hiccups and sobs.He might have cried, but that wouldn’t stop Ifrit. Nothing would. There was no fighting a mighty, crazed god; and weren’t them all? So Ardyn endured it as best as he could, retreating within himself to stop his body from admitting defeat. Because he would never let them win. Not again. Only when was left in the cool darkness -- with semen and saliva coating his skin and deep gouges zigzagging across his chest, baring sinew and bone -- did Ardyn manage a coherent sound. He clenched his jaw, working through the coagulated blood in his mouth, spitting whole globules of it to float in the void. Each word took an eternity of forcing his tongue to cooperate and his muscles to heal a little faster.“I will end you all.” For himself. For Noctis.It was a promise.
10632186	Inspire	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Leonardo (TMNT), Raphael (TMNT), Donatello (TMNT), Michelangelo (TMNT), Splinter (TMNT), April (TMNT), Casey (TMNT)", "Fandom": "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Felhesznelenev (orphan_account)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-15T00:00:00", "words": "1,960", "Additional Tags": "tcest, Turtlecest, Fluff", "Relationship": "Raphael/Donatello (TMNT)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The Turtles had celebrated Christmas with their friends and had a New Year’s party a week later. This winter was colder than last year and they talked about a great, relaxing week on the Jones Farm. They deserved to rest a bit in the beautiful environment of Northampton.All of them agreed so Casey and April went to the farm a day earlier to make a fire to heat up the rooms, preparing the extra mattresses for the Turtles where they could sleep, Splinter preferred to sleep on the sofa, and of course, pillows. Lots of pillows.The next day, in the morning, the Turtles and Splinter arrived with warm clothes and a few items they brought with them. Mikey was the first who entered inside the building and greeted Casey and April waving his hand.Raph and Casey did a fist bump while April gave a gentle hug to Donny. Leo and Splinter stayed with the traditional 'Hi' greeting. The house was already warm and cozy, the fireplace sure did the job right. Of course, Mikey hurried to the fire and moved his hands close to the heat. Nobody blamed him, the weather was chilly and snow began to fall after they arrived at the farm. Sure, they brought clothes with them, but none of them planned on staying outside all day long.April had some plans for what they could do in the week. If there they get enough snow over the next few days, they could ski in the mountains, have a snowball fight, build snowmen, or even ice skate on the lake; if it froze and was safe enough. All of them liked April’s ideas. Of course, if the weather wasn't good, they could still play some board games or watch TV.The next day, in the morning, Donny got his hot coffee and looked through the window, admiring the snowfall. The snow didn't stop falling after they arrived, so the ground had a decently thick layer of snow to do a few of April's plans."We are running out of wood." Casey rubbed the back of his head. He was sure they had prepared for this holiday. It seemed he was wrong. But, neither Casey nor April expected the weather to get so cold so fast, and of course, Mikey didn't like cold so he used up a lot of wood to keep the fire alive.Raph stood next to Casey, patting his shoulder. "Don't ya worry Casey. Me and Donny’ll get ya some wood."Casey looked to his friend. "The brain and the muscle, huh? Well that is a great combination.""Ya can come with us If ya want.""I would like to, but someone needs to watch over Mikey. He found the kitchen and he had a great idea of what to cook." Mikey already used a lot of wood, he didn't want this to happen with food ingredients as well."Yeah, ya should do that. He loves making a mess."Casey nodded. "Just be careful and wear something really warm. It's pretty cold outside."Raph gave a few pat on his back. "Don't ya worry about us. We'll be fine."Casey headed into the kitchen while Raph approached his brother."Alright Don, get some clothes and let's chop some wood."The purple banded turtle sipped the remaining of his coffee and put the mug on the table. "Sounds good to me."Both of them prepared for the inclement weather. They brought only the necessary items they needed and the green pair walked into the snowy nature to gather wood."Any smart ideas which trees we should chop?" Raph could go nuts and chop every tree he saw, but he wanted to hear Donny's opinion first."We should find the thickest tree, that should be enough, or many smaller ones. Either way, the method takes time and strength. And, that’s not even taking into consideration the weather and the snowfall. When we’re working, then we’re sweating and there is a higher chance to catch cold.""Sheesh, Don I only asked ya what trees we should chop, but thanks."The snow crackled beneath their boots as they walked on it."Say Raph, may I ask a question?""Sure, hit it.""Why me? Why not Leo or Mikey?""Does it really matter? I thought it would be more logical going with ya.""Well I could understand why you wouldn't chose Mikey, but Leo would be a good choice as well.""Just realized we don't really spend much time together that's all.""Huh, I see." Donny nodded. It was a bit unexpected from Raph but he didn't complain about it.Soon, Raph discovered a few very thick trees on the other side of the lake."Hey, those trees are perfect.""Raph, there are other trees we could chop, plus we would need to go around the lake and It's a very long walk.""Walking around? This lake is frozen, we could just walk on it."Before Raph could take a step forward, Donny stopped him with his arm."It's still dangerous. Even if the weather got colder, there is no guarantee the ice is thick enough to handle our weight. Especially when we bring the wood back.""Ya worry too much Don. Relax, It's fine." He stepped on the ice, showing his genius that sometimes he can be wrong. "See? I'm still standing." He gave a big grin to his brother."It's still not safe."The red banded turtle grunted. "Fine, I'll go myself then." And he walked forward."Raph, don't be like this, the ice could break beneath you at anytime!""Where’s yer side of adventure?" He mocked his brother while continued walking."Back in New York city actually." Don looked grumpy and followed his hot head brother, being cautious."I'm in the middle of the lake, and no sign for danger." Raph chuckled."Luckily." Answered Donny with a low tone.Suddenly the ice started to crack beneath them and the cracks got closer under Raph."Raph, watch out!" He didn't have time to think, he moved by reflex and pushed Raph away and the ice broke under Don who fell down into the ice-cold water immediately.Raph's eyes widen. "Donny!" He crawled carefully to the hole and looked into the water, tried to figure out what he should do. Soon, a part of Donny's bo staff came out from the water. It has to be Don's plan, to pull him out, Raph thought to himself. He grabbed the staff fast and used all of his strength to pull him out. The olive green turtle's upper body was above the water now. Raph grabbed his arms and pulled him out from the water.Donny's whole body trembled and his teeth shivered. It would be dangerous If Raph stood up and carried Don, so he tried to find the best solution. He quickly removed all of his brother's wet clothes and after that he took off his own clothes as well, then he put it on Donnie's to keep him a bit warmer."Alright Don, carefully lie down. I'll slide ya out from the lake."The sudden temperature lost made him stiff, it was the best that they could do. He lay down on the ice with the help of his brother and he started to push Donny as he crawled on all fours back to safety.Once they arrived on the snowy ground, Raph picked Donny up and ran back to the farm house.There was no time to be polite, Raph kicked the door in, caused a big surprise to the family."Raph, what happened?" Leo's eyes widened as he saw Raph without his clothes, holding Donny in his arms."Donny fell down into the lake." He quickly ran close to the fireplace and put the shivered turtle down on the floor gently."He what?" Mikey just came out from the kitchen, seeing his genius brother trembling shocked him."I'll bring more blankets." Casey shouted as he ran up the stairs."I'll make some hot water." April headed to the bathroom fast, getting hot water into a basin.Mikey stepped closer to the purple banded turtle. "Is he gonna be okay, sensei?"Splinter put his hand on Donny's forehead to check his temperature. "He is very cold. The warm blankets and the hot water will help him."Leo crossed his arms. "How did he fell down into the lake?" He looked down to Raph, maybe he would answer his question."It was my fault." Raph let out a deep sigh. "I told him to go to the other side of the lake to chop some wood. He warned me, but I didn't listen. He saved me from falling down into the lake.""So because of you, Donny is now shivering like a leaf." Leo scolded his brother."I know, and I'm sorry, I just-" A sneeze interrupted Raph's sentence."You should rest as well, my son." Splinter stopped him from talking. "Wandering outside in this cold weather without any clothes is dangerous. But then again you saved your brother. That's what matters."Raph nodded. "Thanks Sense- ACHOO!""Bless you. And next time listen to your brother." Splinter scolded him as well.Casey and April arrived back with more blankets and a basin filled with hot water. Mikey pushed the sofa closer to the fireplace and Leo picked Donny up, placing him down on the sofa gently. Casey wrapped the blankets around Donny's body. April put the basin down in front of Don's feet and helped him put them into the hot water slowly, giving him time to get used to it.Casey, Leo and Mikey went outside this time to chop some wood while Splinter and April stayed with Donny and Raph. April brought another blanket for Raph and wrapped him because soon he got mild fever. Splinter made hot tea for both Donny and Raph who gladly accepted.After some time the rest of the boys came back with wood. At night, everybody fell asleep, except Don and Raph, who watched the fire dancing. Though the room wasn't quiet, due to the soft snorts from Mikey and Leo, Splinter slept quietly while April and Casey slept in a different room."I'm sorry Don." Raph whispered. "I should have listen to ya. Then none of this would have happened."Don placed his hand on Raph's. "It's okay Raph. I should have known you love danger and adventure. I just wanted you to be safe. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you."Raph looked into his brother's eyes then he continued."You mean a lot to me, Raph. I have always admired you, the way you face danger and you are not afraid of it, it inspires me."Raph looked away, feeling a bit ashamed. "Even if it is true, it only caused trouble to ya or the others.""That's not true. There have been a lot of times we were in danger during a mission but you always found a solution even if it was very dangerous. You saved us many times, because you are not afraid of danger or death."This made Raph smile and he leaned back on the sofa, not letting go Donny's hand. "Thank you, Don."Donny smiled back and closed his eyes and both of them waited until they went to the world of dreams.The rest of their holiday was spent mostly taking care of Donny's and Raph's sickness and that made Mikey grumpy, but during the week, Donatello and Raphael spent their time together more than in the lair. And in the last of the days they managed to play some border games. So, all in all, it wasn't a bad week after all.
10610691	Pair Skating	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Otabek Altin, Yuri Plisetsky, Yuuri Katsuki, Viktor Nikiforov", "Fandom": "Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by cynx_17_kh", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-13T00:00:00", "words": "472", "Additional Tags": "Viktor with a K, Yuuri with two u's, there's otayuri if you squint, this is podium family fluff, everyone deserves to have this in their lives", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin & Yuri Plisetsky, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov", "Series": "YOI Ficlets", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The shush of his skates as he stopped at the boards lingered in the cold air. He thought he’d be angry after hearing what the couple just told him. Reasonably, he should be angry. Instead he’s just… Shocked.Yuuri was beginning to look anxious from the heavy silence, and surprisingly, so did Viktor. It wasn’t like Viktor to be nervous about something. Either way, Yuri took this as an indication that he really should respond to them.“Well…” He started off slowly, still trying to process he information. “I knew you two were really happy pair skating for the Grand Prix Final exhibition last season, but this? Doesn’t this make you at least a little worried?”The older skaters glanced at each other and before either could defend themselves, Yuri cut them off, moving closer to the exit of the rink as he spoke.“Which country are you going to skate for? That’s the first question. Then it’s a matter of when are you getting married? You’ll have to have citizenship in whichever country you skate for.” he stepped off of the ice and sat down on the nearest bench to put on his skate guards. “Please tell me that you’ve at least thought about this stuff and you aren’t acting on a lovey-dovey whim just because you want to pair skate more.”Viktor and Yuuri shared a knowing look , then smiled brightly.“Of course we have, Yurachka.” Viktor said, ruffling Yuri’s hair. “It’s so sweet how you’re worried for us.”Yuri scoffed. “Why would I be worried? I just know that you two are terribly forgetful.”“Althought, I am wondering on little thing, Yurio.” Yuuri sat down next to the blond on the bench. “How is it that you know several of the ins and outs of the legal portion of pair skating?”At this comment, the ice tiger of Russia flushed a shade of red that Crayola hadn’t come up with yet. “No reason..” he managed to stammer out.“Ah~ I think ‘no reason’ in Yurio-speak is synonymous to ‘the hero of Kazakhstan’, eh Yuuri?” Viktor nudged his fiancé’s shoulder with that silly heart shaped grin of his. The blond groan and buried his face in his hands. “Leave Otabek out of this, baldy” His words had no bite, and he was even smiling as he allowed Yuuri to wrap an arm around his shoulder.“Why would we leave him out of it? I thought you wanted to break all of our records? That includes our pair skating ones.”Yuri took his face out of his hands and rolled his eyes, smiling at the Japanese man. “Pfft, you say that as if you’re going to make records in the first place. You won’t but I will.” Viktor smirked. “Oh, Yura. We can’t wait to make you eat your words.”FIN
10696506	Unexpected	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Arthurian Mythology", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by MrProphet", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-22T00:00:00", "words": "329", "Additional Tags": "Minor Violence", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	They attacked the castle at dawn, knowing that Arthur and all his highest knights were abroad at a great tournament, leaving only a handful of men at arms under the command of the King’s stepbrother to defend Camelot.“Kay of the Wildwood,” the knights had laughed. “The forest bumpkin. Truly King Arthur is a fool to leave the defence of his throne to such an oaf.”They rode hard across the drawbridge towards the open gate, levelling their spears at the footmen inside. They drove their horses on with their spurs, but still at the threshold the leading horses shied and reared, drawing back so suddenly that those following cannoned into them, sending the leading horses sprawling and stumbling and sliding over the line of salt and into the courtyard.The knights struggled up, their leader’s right hand man falling to a footman’s spear before he could disentangle himself from his saddle. The steeds of the following knights trampled those in their path, surging over the mound of fallen men and armour and horseflesh and driving the footmen back.For a moment it looked as though the attackers would yet prevail, but then another knight was among them, a man as tall as a tree, laying about him with a great staff and scattering men like ninepins, while their blades seemed to turn from him like switches against leather. He cast a knotted cord towards two men and they found themselves bound up in unbreakable bonds.“What is this?” the leader of the attackers demanded.The warrior paused in his dread work to face his enemy. A man tried to attack him, but Kay threw down his staff and the knight found himself unable to cross the line of the stick.Sir Kay, greatest of the Enchanter-Knights of Britain, dwindled to the size of a man, but still held a mantle of strength around him. He drew the sword from his hip. “You were expecting something different?” he asked.
10652175	Aire	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Teodora Villavicencio, Leo San Juan", "Fandom": "Las Leyendas \| Legend Quest (Cartoon)", "Language": "Español", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Dawniebb", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-17T00:00:00", "words": "2,101", "Additional Tags": "Las Leyendas - Freeform, Legend Quest - Freeform, Ánima Estudios, Leodora", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	AireAl principio, se había creído que la Llorona andaba suelta, a pesar de que un solo lamento se había escuchado.Luego, ningún otro grito había viajado por la ciudad, pero Leo, Don Andrés y Alebrije habían estado por un momento convencidos de que sí, en efecto, se trataba de la Llorona.Pasaba que justo después de ese breve y doloroso lamento que se había escuchado aquel día, Teodora había desaparecido de la nada.Es decir, así, como si nada, ya no estaba. Se había ido, lo cual sólo podía significar una cosa: La Llorona se la había llevado. Después de todo, no era tan mayor como para que esa mujer no pudiera confundirla con alguno de sus difuntos hijos.Había parecido tan lógico en aquel momento. Tal y como si la simple respuesta estuviera ahí enfrente de sus narices, y sólo tuvieran que rastrear a la Llorona para traer a su amiga de vuelta.Sin embargo, después todo se volvió mucho más complicado, porque no parecía haber rastros de la Llorona por ningún lado, y no se habían escuchado más lamentos.Leo, Don Andrés y Alebrije literalmente la habían buscado por todos lados, hablando de Puebla, pero no habían conseguido nada. Ni a Teodora, ni a la Llorona.En cambio, cuando finalmente habían salido de Puebla, habían encontrado algunos espectros más con los que habían tenido que pelear, obviamente siempre teniendo en la mente que estaban buscando a la Llorona, para avisarle que la niña que había tomado por hija ni siquiera estaba viva.(Leo a veces sí lo olvidaba por la tensión del momento, pero nadie tenía que enterarse de eso).Los tres estaban de acuerdo en que aquella había sido en realidad los cinco días más estresantes de sus vidas. Después de que intentaran empezar a darles encargos para resolver, Leo había puesto un alto a toda aquella locura, y les había avisado a Don Andrés y a Alebrije que era hora de devolverse a Puebla, y ver qué podían hacer ahí.Ese algo había sido nada, por supuesto.O al menos al principio.Sí, porque al volver, se encontraron con que todo estaba como lo habían dejado, y con que nadie había vuelto a escuchar a la Llorona. Había sido ahí cuando Leo había llegado a la conclusión de que no sabía dónde encontrar a esa condenada mujer gritona, y por lo tanto tampoco sabía cómo traer de vuelta a Teodora.No se había rendido, pero había sugerido que se tomaran un descanso de todo aquello, porque igual Teodora no era de las que se dejaban, y seguramente no le sería muy difícil escapar de la Llorona con sus propias intangibles patitas.Así que esa noche, a pesar de las insistencias de Don Andrés y Alebrije, Leo se había tomado un descanso, lo cual en realidad le había resultado mejor de lo que alguna vez hubiera él planeado.Sí, porque sabía que lo único que aquello haría, iba a ser provocar que su consciencia se lo comiera vivo por dejar a la deriva a un miembro de su equipo de esa horrible manera. Y sin embargo, no ocurrió nada de eso.Leo se durmió temprano, después de cenar, y no tuvo que pasar mucho tiempo antes de que algo lo despertara.La comezón en las fosas nasales, provocada por el fuerte olor a perfume, provocó que abriera los ojos involuntariamente, y al incorporarse en la cama, y enfocar su vista en la ventana de su habitación, vio un resplandor. Uno además del de la luna.Cuando los ojos de Leo consiguieron acostumbrarse a la oscuridad, le halló forma a dicho resplandor.Teodora estaba sentada en la ventana, con una pierna flexionada, y la otra estirada, con la mirada fija en el exterior.Como si de repente hubiera viajado al pasado, Leo pudo escuchar de nuevo el grito que habían escuchado cinco días antes, y llegó a la conclusión de que había sido demasiado agudo para pertenecer a una mujer adulta.Tal vez, en realidad, todo ese tiempo Don Andrés, Alebrije y él no habían estado buscando a la Llorona y a Teodora, porque el grito que habían creído escuchar salir de la Llorona, en realidad había salido de Teodora.Todo ese tiempo habían estado buscando a una sola persona, que de la nada había vuelto, y se había posado en la ventana de Leo, viendo la noche como si fuera lo más normal del mundo irte, provocar que te buscaran, y después volver como si nada hubiera pasado.O sea, mujer tenía que ser.Leo, con fastidio, se alcanzó una vela y la encendió.-Buenas noches.- Le gruñó. -¿Quieres que te caliente un tamal y una taza de atole?Por supuesto, no obtuvo la respuesta que él quería. De hecho no obtuvo ninguna respuesta, porque Teodora no se dignó si quiera de mirarlo.-Teodora.- Dijo Leo, con firmeza, levantándose para ir hacia la ventana, y mirar a Teodora más de cerca, cruzado de brazos. –Eres bien grosera, ¿sabías? Eso no se hace. Te buscamos por todos lados.-Uy, qué cosas.- Teodora se encogió de hombros con una descomunal falta de interés, todavía sin volver su rostro hacia Leo. –Si yo siempre estuve aquí.-Ibas a andar estando aquí.- Leo rodó los ojos.-Obvio sí. Aquí merito.- Y finalmente lo miró. Señalaba al techo. –O sea, que no sepas que tu propia casa tiene un ático, ya es otro nivel de oso. Eres mega lento, Leo.-Eres mega lento, Leo.- La imitó. –Mensa. Tú también si sabes que yo no sé que tengo un ático, ¿para qué te metes ahí? Lo haces para ofenderte cuando no te encuentre, ¿verdad?-Lo haces para ofenderte cuando no te encuentre, ¿verdad?- Teodora contraatacó a Leo, haciendo una mala (Qué mala; Malísima) imitación de su voz. Pero la muy guapa ni siquiera lo intentó. Se puso a hablar como si tuviera la lengua pegada a la parte de arriba de la boca, o como si tuviera algo en la garganta, que le estuviera impidiendo hablar correctamente. Así toda payasa.-O sea, cómo se nota que no sabes tratar con mujeres.- Teodora soltó una risa completamente venenosa, y Leo rodó los ojos.-Fíjate que ni quiero saber. Suficiente tengo contigo, y eres pero si bien complicada. Yo no sé cómo sabes tratar contigo misma.-Vieras que es bien fácil.- Teodora lo miró por segunda vez. Leo la miró también. Notó que en sus fantasmales mejillas tenía unas rayas negras. Al principio no supo qué era, pero después recordó que un par de veces Teodora le había comentado que llevaba una cosa llamada maquillaje en la cara, y que dicho maquillaje se caía con el agua.La única agua que podía rodar por las mejillas, era la que salía de los ojos, y que popularmente era conocida como lágrimas.-…No sabía que los fantasmas podían llorar.- Se le salió decir a Leo, ladeando la cabeza, y acercándose más a la ventana.Teodora se quedó por un momento procesando, y después rápidamente se limpió las mejillas, y miró feo a Leo.-Eres bien insensible.- Le gruñó.-Ay, ¿pues qué esperabas, Teodora?- Gruñó de vuelta Leo. -¿Quieres que te traiga una cobija y te tape con ella mientras escucho tu lamento? Ni siquiera te puedo cubrir con la cobi..Allí fue inevitable detenerse abruptamente. Desde el rostro gacho de Teodora cayeron unas pequeñas, delicadas y brillantes gotitas de agua intangibles, que cayeron en sus también intangibles piernas, en un gesto sutil, que pareció avisarle a Leo que había ido demasiado lejos.-¿Qué te pasa?- Preguntó, sentándose junto a ella, sin necesidad de atravesarla, pues quitó las piernas de la ventana para hacerle espacio.Cierto que le dio espacio, más no le respondió lo que quería. Por milésima vez.-Nada.Y el “nada” no fue lo peor del asunto. Fue el tono con el que Teodora lo dijo. Esa manera tan irritante que tenía de hablar. Ese tono chillón.-Ya te enojaste, ¿verdad?- Escupió Leo, señalándola.-No.-¿Entonces qué te pasa?-Nada.Leo se inclinó un poco (no lo suficiente para estar en peligro de irse de bocas por la ventana) y arqueó una ceja.-¿Por qué no me estás grosereando? Ya, Teodora, ¿qué te pasa?Ella contestó un par de segundos después.-…Nada…Leo vio las lágrimas que seguían cayendo, y tragó saliva.-¿Por qué lloras?Teodora hizo un sonido con la nariz, y se frotó el rostro, antes de abrazarse a sí misma e ignorar a Leo, quien simplemente atinó a apartar la mirada con incomodidad y frotarse el cuello.-¿Esto es por mi culpa?- Preguntó con voz débil, llevando su mano desde su cuello hasta su barbilla para rascársela.Teodora trató de reírse, pero le salió un chillido como de ratón.-No te creas tan importante.Leo sintió algo subiéndole desde el estómago hasta el rostro, por lo que simplemente tomó una bocanada de aire, y la soltó ruidosamente, para posteriormente aclararse la garganta.-…Bueno.- Le dijo.Cayó un incómodo silencio entre ambos, y de un momento para otro Leo deseó haber sido lo suficientemente torpe para inclinarse demasiado y caer de bruces desde la ventana. Obvio, ya no era hora de intentarlo de nuevo. Sabía que en el fondo no se quería morir.Por lo tanto, como sus censores de torpeza no descansaban en ningún momento del día, ni siquiera en los peores, decidió hablar de nuevo, diciendo algo que sabía perfectamente que más que mejorar la situación, lo único que provocaría sería empeorarla.-…No sabía que los fantasmas pudieran llorar.- Repitió accidentalmente.Por un momento, creyó que Teodora perdería la cabeza y atentaría contra la vida de Leo, pero por alguna razón sus predicciones resultaron erróneas, y nada de eso sucedió. Ella de hecho respondió.-Yo sí sabía.Leo intentó reírse.-No, pues obvio que tú sí sabes. No me imagino cuánto circo no has de montar cuando no te estamos viendo, ¿verdad, Teodora?Y, así, Leo San Juan lo volvió a arruinar. Más feo que antes.La fantasma pelirroja no lo miró, pero alzó una mano hacia Leo, y él, al no saber qué hacer, la atravesó con la suya.-¿Qué sentiste?- Preguntó Teodora, a lo que Leo se encogió de hombros, mientras seguía la delicada mano de ella con la mirada, hasta que Teodora la posó sobre una de sus rodillas.-Sentí algo helado.- Dijo Leo. –Pero por un ratito, nada más.La cara de Teodora se distorsionó en una mueca de tristeza, que ella se arregló para cubrir con su orgullo unos segundos después, haciendo aquel sonido con la nariz de nuevo.-De donde yo vengo lo llaman aire.Esta vez, Leo no sintió la sensación fea subir desde el estómago. La sintió desde las piernas, y se extendió por todo su cuerpo. Fue una sensación desagradable, que provocó que las manos le temblaran.-P-pero…pero es un aire característico tuyo… ¿sabes cómo?- Leo se aclaró la garganta repetidamente aunque le fuera innecesario. –No es aire-aire, sino el aire de Teodora.La aludida volvió a alzar su mano, esta vez frente a ella. Vio a través la luna, y entonces su rostro se llenó de resignación.-Aire.- Repitió. –Simplemente aire.Leo tragó saliva, y bajó la mirada a un punto en el que no había nada interesante.-Por desgracia.-Sí. Qué triste la muerte, ¿verdad?Leo la miró, y suspiró. Teodora había bajado su mano, y estaba abrazada de sus piernas. Sus cachetes lucían abultados por cómo los recargaba en sus rodillas.-Teo…- Leo intentó extender una mano hacia ella para ponérsela en el hombro, pero recordó las cosas a tiempo, y desistió, limitándose a terminar lo que quería decirle.-A mí me caes bien. Eres buen rollo, aunque seas enfadosa.-Gracias.- Respondió Teodora. –Yo igual me caigo bien.Leo no pudo evitar reírse, a lo que Teodora lo miró, volviendo a su mueca engreída de siempre.-¿Pues de qué te ríes, patán? No esperabas que me pusiera intensita y te dijera que tú me caes bien a mí, ¿verdad? O sea, no. Asco.-Algún día admitirás que te caigo bien.- Dijo Leo, sonriéndole.- Tonta.-Ese día no será hoy.- Respondió Teodora, poniéndose de pie para empezar a flotar frente a Leo.-Hasta mañana.- Se despidió ella, antes de desaparecer.Nada quedó de aquella noche, pues ninguno de los dos mencionó nada a Alebrije o a Don Andrés. Ni siquiera comentaron algo al respecto entre ellos, de hecho, y en la memoria de Leo lo único que quedó fue el aire helado que se coló a través suyo y de la habitación cuando Teodora se despidió y se marchó.
10623003	Priorities	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Female Ryder \| Sara, Female Ryder (Mass Effect), Reyes Vidal, Vetra Nyx, Cora Harper, Ryder (Mass Effect)", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by WillowOdair", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-14T00:00:00", "words": "5,515", "Additional Tags": "Shameless Smut, Ryder needs a break, Hook-Up, possible spoilers for meeting Reyes, Friendship, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Sex, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Reyder", "Relationship": "Female Ryder \| Sara & Reyes Vidal", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Mass Effect: Andromeda, Mass Effect", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Scarlett just needed to get away, she felt like she was suffocating. Kallo had managed to land them in Kadara port almost 5 hours before she was supposed to meet her contact for the Resistance, and she planned to take every advantage of that. She had pinged Vetra and asked her to keep the team busy so she could slip out unnoticed. She just needed a few hours to be Scarlett, not a Ryder and definitely not the Pathfinder. Scarlett had been going full speed ahead since her father had sacrificed himself so she could live on Habitat 7. Leaving her with the Pathfinder title and everything that came along with it. Since then she had little time to take a moment for herself to absorb all of her new responsibilities. To deal with her grief. Vetra had responded kindly letting her know that she would give her time to slip away, just tell her when she was ready. She looked at herself in the mirror, her blue-green eyes reflecting fiercely in the mirror. Scarlett was a survivor, no doubt about that but even she needed time to find her balance. She slipped out of her trademark white and purple jacket and traded it for the worn N7 hoodie her father had packed away. She had decided against wearing the armor, that would immediately identify her as the Pathfinder, instead relying on her biotics, her tech, and SAM. Even though she had asked SAM to give her some privacy she knew he would come to her aid in an instant. She pulled her chestnut hair out of her pony tail letting it hide the tattoo that went down the side of her face to her neck. Pulling her hood over her head she barely recognized herself and was grateful. She needed just a minute where nothing was expected of her. She let Vetra know she was ready and waited patiently until she got the all clear. She walked out of her room locking the door behind her, hoping that everyone would think she was just resting until it was time to meet the contact.True to her word the coast was clear as Scarlett made her way down the ramp and into Kadara port. She was hit immediately with the smell of sulfur, she had been warned by SAM but even he couldn't prepare her for the potency of it. Shrugging it off she made her way through the crowd. Although several people glanced her way she made her way to Krallo's Song without trouble. Scarlett scanned the room taking note of all the patrons in various states of intoxication. As she walked towards the bar she noticed a good looking man sitting at a table holding a drink. He caught her eye and flashed a charming smile while a turian leaned down and whispered something into his ear. Scarlett looked away and headed straight for the bar. She chose a seat off to the side that gave her a view of the entrance and her back to the wall. Advanced training training with her father made the motion more instinct than preference. She couldn't stop a smile when the bartender threatened the krogran trying to get out of paying his tab. Scarlett liked her already.Umi was a no nonsense asari and filled her in on the Collective and the Outcasts. She seemed pleased when Scarlett ordered a whiskey neat, answering “that's the only way I serve it.” Scarlett drained the first glass in a swallow and Umi refilled her. The liquid burned all the way down and she felt some of the tension leave her shoulders. When it became apparent she was content to sip this one Umi moved down her line of customers. Scarlett stared hard into the bottom of her glass as if it might give her answers. She was so alone here, 2.5 billion light years away from her home in the Milky Way. The comforting hums of the Citadel where she and Scott had grown up nothing but a memory.Her mother had died before they had left and her father was gone almost as soon as they arrived. And Scott, the only family she had left, was trapped in a coma for god knows how long. She felt like an orphan, like she had told Jaal. An orphan in a galaxy that was unfamiliar, full of threats they had never planned on when they had signed onto the Andromeda Initiative. They had come here for a fresh start as a family, a fresh start for humanity, but nothing had gone as planned. Now here she was carrying this entire burden on her shoulders and she was terrified of failing.She didn't regret coming though, Andromeda was full of wonder and beauty no matter the obstacles they faced. It promised to be the adventure of a lifetime, she just wished she had someone to share it with. Her team was there for her, quickly becoming like family, but she still felt like she had so much to prove before she was ready to show weakness to them. Who was she to lead the entire Initiative? She was a nobody told in no uncertain terms to find them a home.Scott should have become the Pathfinder, he had the charisma, the diplomacy, the patience to deal with all of this. He was logical and methodical, he would have known how to handle Tann and Addison. The right things to say to get people to follow him, to believe in him, just like their father. Hell he probably would have become an admiral in the Alliance if their father hadn't destroyed their careers.Scarlett had always preferred to stay out of spotlight, more prone to leading with her heart. She would do the right thing even if she knew it wasn't always logical. Not to say that she couldn't see weakness and exploit it to suit her own needs, she just tended to leap before she looked and hope that everything would turn out for the best. Which it usually did, better to be lucky than good, right? Her sarcasm and casualness had gotten her into trouble on more than one occasion, but she'd rather lay her cards on the table.Groaning she drained the second glass of whiskey, she was trying to avoid her current situation, not wallow in it.“You look like you're waiting for someone,” a sultry Spanish accent interrupted her self deprecation. The voice sent a not unpleasant shiver down her spine. “Not yet, just trying to drink my problems away like everyone else,” she returned smoothly looking up to meet the eyes of the voice, already knowing it was the man who had smiled at her. “Well please allow me to get you another drink then,” he motioned to Umi who poured two of her finest whiskeys and slid them forward. Ryder didn't miss the small shake of the asari's head as she walked away. Scarlett gave the man a quick once over, he was tall with copper skin and oozed confidence. He wasn't bulky but she could see the definition of his muscles under the light armor. His amber eyes matched the whiskey he was holding and she could see the mischief behind the innocent smile he was giving her. He was cleaner than most of the people she had seen here, not a hair was out of place and judging by his whiskey choice he enjoyed the finer things. The way he held himself suggested he was open and friendly but constantly aware of his surroundings. She felt the smoothness of his hands when he passed her the glass, so a man who preferred to give orders, not take them. Obviously someone with connections based on the exchange with the turian. And the way he sauntered over to her and Umi's reaction, definitely a man who was used to getting his way. Everything about him made every alarm bell in her head go off, he was going to be trouble, and for some reason the very thought filled Scarlett with excitement. His grin grew wider at her appraisal and he tapped his glass against hers, “Like what you see Pathfinder?”Just like that the excitement was gone, one word bringing back all the stress she was trying to escape. She wasn't even sure what she had been expecting in this situation but this was exactly the opposite. She should have known it was impossible to go unnoticed, everyone was surely aware of the Tempest docking. Then an unknown woman walked into bar, it was like the start of a bad joke.Visibly deflated she looked at him, “The Pathfinder doesn't exist for at least the next 4 hours so if you want something you're shit out of luck until then. Thanks for the drink though.” She swallowed the whiskey, a little bitter she hadn''t been able to savor it more. She motioned to Umi to pay her bill opening up her omni tool, she transferred the credits along with a sizeable tip and made to get up. “I think you misunderstand Pathfinder...” He started in that smooth voice that was already doing damnable things to her.Scarlett held her hand up, “No I think you misunderstand, I just came for a drink. This the first time I have had to myself since I got to this damn galaxy. Every time I turn around there is always another person who has just a teensy, tiny problem that only I can solve. Nothing but more expectations, more responsibility, one more damn headache. On top of trying to find three missing arcs, the Kett, and unlivable “Golden World's.” Make no mistake I'm happy to do it, I really don't mind, but tonight the only thing I'm interested in blowing off some steam.” There went her brain to mouth filter again, but was a few hours for herself too much to ask?“Scarlett,” the use of her first name startled her into looking at him again. “the only favor I'm here to ask is for you to have another drink with me. I prefer to handle my own problems in most cases.”“Oh, I'm sorry. It's just...” she started, a blush coloring her cheeks, her biotics buzzing to life as they did whenever her heart rate spiked.“No need to explain, I know you are a busy woman. I simply wanted to let you know that I was aware of who you are. Please stay. I'm Reyes.” He was charming, she would give him that and she really wouldn't mind another drink. With a shrug she sat back down at the bar, Umi who had watched the entire exchange refilled their glasses. “So this is what a Pathfinder does to blow off steam, eh? Drinking alone in an asari bar full of exiles and criminals?” He asked eyeing her curiously.“Well casual sex is off the table at the moment, so yes it will have to do.” Scarlett deadpanned sipping her whiskey.Reyes coughed lightly into his drink but recovered quickly. “And why pray tell would you deprive yourself one of life's greatest pleasures?”The look he had trained on her now sent heat straight to her core. Her eyes fell to his lips and she briefly wondered if they were as soft as they looked. She gave herself a small mental shake, “get a grip Ryder, that is the last thing you need to be thinking.” “In case you missed it I'm busy trying to save a galaxy, my pleasure isn't exactly at the top of the list.” Even as she said it her gaze never wavered and she unconsciously pulled her lower lip between her teeth. Her mind was already betraying her, conjuring up images she tucked away for future reference.She should get up and leave right now, go back to the Tempest. She had reports to file, strike teams to debrief. Maybe she could catch a game of poker with Gil, or clean her guns with Vetra and Cora, perhaps she could listen to Jaal and Drack compare war stories. She definitely shouldn't be a breath away from making out with a total stranger in a bar. It had been over 635 years give or take since she had any kind of intimacy and now that it had been brought to her attention it was overpowering. He let out a soft chuckle as if he could hear her internal argument. “Shame, for an enticing woman such as yourself I would make it my highest priority.” He leaned in closer to her, his breath hot against her lips. Scarlett wasn't sure if the electricity flowing through her was the whiskey catching up or the way he looked at her as if he would make good on that promise. All rational thought escaped her as she closed the gap between them and pressed her lips against his. They were indeed soft and seemed to fit perfectly against hers. His hand came up cupping her face as he deepened the kiss. His tongue traced the seam of her lips as she parted them allowing him to explore her mouth. She brought her hand up and ran it through his silky hair, her nails digging into his scalp. In one swift movement he circled his other arm around her waist lifting her from the bar stool and pushing her against the wall. She was oblivious to everything except for the feel of him against her, their tongues clashing together hot and desperate. He had his knee pressed between her legs holding her place and she moved against it desperate for any kind of friction to relieve the pressure building inside her. He took her bottom lip into his mouth nibbling and sucking and this time she couldn't stop the moan that escaped. She felt his arousal pushing against her and he growled into her neck when she palmed it through the tight leather, his hips bucking involuntarily. He curled his fingers into her hair exposing her neck. His lips moved along her jaw and he made his way down sucking and biting but kissing to sooth the sting. His other hand roamed underneath the over sized jacket delightfully burning patterns onto bare skin. A break in the music brought Ryder somewhat back to reality, she wanted him desperately but not in front of a bar full of people. He sensed her hesitation and stopped, pulling away abruptly. She immediately missed the feel of him. His eyes were blown wide with desire and she felt another wave of heat flood her. She brought his mouth back to hers kissing him again before breathlessly whispering, “Reyes, take me somewhere, anywhere. Now.” Needing no further instruction he paid for their drinks and lead her out of the club, his arm around her waist once more. They almost barreled right into an asari as they tumbled out of the door. They stopped every few feet taking turns pushing each other into the wall, exploring, tasting, each touch more urgent than the last. Scarlett's knees were weak, her whole body was on fire when the door they had stopped in front of opened, it appeared to be an apartment. He paused again and looked at her giving her a chance to back out. Without hesitation she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him inside, the door closing behind them. They stumbled around in the dark knocking into furniture until they made their way to a small room in the back. A light on a bedside table cast the room in a soft glow. Standing in the middle of the room Reyes unzipped her jacket kissing her neck and sliding it off her shoulders, he peeled her t shirt off throwing it on the floor next to the jacket. Scarlett's soft skin was offset by a red silk bra. He took a moment to gaze at her before continuing the trail of kisses down the top of her breasts, he ran his hands gently across the hardening pebbles. She let out a small hiss, scratching at his arms when he gently bit one through the fabric. Deciding he was wearing too many clothes she set to work removing the top part of his armor. Pausing only long enough to slip it over his head she licked her lips at the lean copper skin, running her hands across his defined chest.His lips found her again and he pressed her against the wall. Both of his hands held her face and he kissed her with a tenderness she wasn't expecting. She hummed into his mouth and he let one hand wander across her shoulder sliding the strap of he bra off then moving to release the clasp. He lightly brushed his thumb across her nipple causing her fingers to curl tightly in his hair.“Reyes, please,” she moaned as his other hand traveled farther down tracing the waistband of her pants. With two fingers he undid the buttons and slid his hand down the apex of her thighs. She was already slick with need, he smiled and nuzzled her neck as he slid one finger across her wetness. He held her as he found the small bundle of nerves at her center, she breathed heavily into his shoulder now, unintelligible pleas escaping her lips. He bit the sensitive skin below her ear and sucked gently as he slid one finger inside her, she rocked against his hand using his palm to push against her clit.Ryder's hands looked for purchase anywhere leaving red marks on his back as he slid another finger inside of her. “Oh shit, Reyes,” she gasped. She was close, she could feel the coil in her belly ready to snap but he stopped right before she fell over the edge, giving her a mischievous smile. He returned his mouth to her throat as she mewled in disappointment. “Patience Scarlett,” he laughed softly. Pushing away from the wall she reached for him, trailing her hands down his chest. She rubbed one hand against his hard on drawing a groan from him before moving to unclasp his belt. She used both hands to undo his pants, his erection straining tightly against the leather, and slowly pulled down his briefs allowing it to jerk free. She wrapped her hand around the base, stroking it, looking up at him she saw his eyes were black with desire. She kissed down his neck onto his chest running her tongue down his taut muscles before dropping to her knees and swirling her tongue around the head making his breath stutter. She used the other hand to softly caress the rest of him and she delighted in how he threw his head back as she drew his length into her mouth. She used her hand as extension of her mouth as she licked and sucked and hummed. Reyes let out a strangled moan burying his hands in her hair, “oh fuck.” Her tongue traced the vein on the underside of his cock as his hips bucked into her. She had always enjoyed this, having this power over men, knowing she could make him come apart with a few more strokes. The thought sent another flash of heat straight to her core. Instead she lifted her head and looked at him, his hands still buried her hair. “I need to feel you, please,” he begged. He helped her to her feet and they eagerly discarded the rest of their clothes. She captured his lips with hers again and pushed him slowly towards the bed. When his knees hit the mattress he let himself fall back taking her with him. Their mouths battled for dominance as he ran his hands over any part of her body he could reach. Scarlett could feel him pressing along her center, placing her hands on his chest she sat up straddling him. She used her slickness to rub herself up and down his length teasing them both. When she'd worked them into a fever pitch she lifted herself slightly and he used his hand to guide himself against her opening. She slid him inside of her just an inch before pulling off and rubbing his tip against her bundle of nerves sending tantalizing shivers down his spine. The movement made them both shudder and a small whine passed her lips. She repeated the motion several times, taking him a little deeper each time. When he was fully sheathed inside her she rolled her hips and a loud moan ripped from the back of her throat. His hands were gripping her waist so tightly it was likely to bruise but that only served to excite her more. She rocked against him pulling out and sliding back down him at a leisurely tempo. Scarlett was totally lost in the sensation and didn't notice Reyes marveling at her, the look of bliss on her flushed face, the way her head was thrown back and she was biting her bottom lip. How her skin glowed with a hint of blue and a slick sheen of sweat. One hand braced on his chest the other running from her hair, across her chest and down to where they came together. Memorizing the way she gasped his name when his hand replaced hers. Her pupils were blown and her eyes darkened when she looked down at his face and sped up, his hips meeting her every thrust. Using the hand on her waist to steady her he sat up wrapping one arm around her pulling her closer to him smiling when she moaned her approval. His other hand tangled in her hair as he laved her nipple. Without breaking her rhythm she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper inside her, he hit the spot that made her tremble. Her heels dug into his back as her breathing became more erratic. “I'm... so close, don't... stop,” she pleaded dragging his face up to her and crushing his lips with hers. Her hands clawed at him and twisted into his hair as her whole body tensed. She moaned in his mouth as she finally snapped, her walls clenching tightly around him. Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire and she felt the tingle of her biotics coming to life as she let go completely. His name was on her lips as she came undone and hearing it is what sent him tumbling with her, his hands gripping her like a vice. “Oh Scarlett,” he murmured in her ear followed by a string of words she didn't understand. He pulsed several times spending himself inside of her as white light exploded behind his eyes.They stayed like that for several minutes, her head buried in his shoulder, panting breath hot on his neck. When their breathing returned to normal she unwrapped her legs from his waist and he laid back on the bed. She slid off of him, her body still quivering with aftershocks, settling in and laying her head on his chest. She listened to his heart beat and he ran his fingers through her hair. They were both content with the silence, reveling in the afterglow.Scarlett let out a satisfied sigh, she couldn't remember the last time she had felt so relaxed. Reyes chuckled lightly into her hair. This was not how she expected her day to end up but she was quite pleased that it had. Reyes wasn't the first tryst that had started in a bar but he had definitely been the best. She wasn't sure how long they laid there but far too soon SAM came on over the private channel, “I'm sorry to disturb you Pathfinder but several members of the crew are quite distressed with your absence. And your meeting with the Resistance contact is approaching.” Scarlett groaned, she had been hoping to sneak back to the Tempest before they missed her. She supposed that wasn't the case anymore and now she had to shower. With a small huff of annoyance she sat up looking around the room to locate her clothes. Reyes didn't seem surprised at the sudden change in her temperament, sitting up as she got out of bed. He simply raised an at eyebrow at her, “duty calls?”“As it always does,” she said putting her shirt and pants back on. She slipped into her boots and pulled the jacket over her shoulders. She walked over to Reyes and kissed him deeply, “this was fantastic though. Thanks.”“The pleasure was all mine, believe me,” he smiled tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.“Maybe I'll see you another time.” Scarlett said turning to leave.“Oh I'm counting on it Pathfinder,” Reyes gave her a wink as she threw him once more glance before disappearing out the door. She used her omnitool to light a path to the front door of the apartment, blinking rapidly as her eyes adjusted the to sunlight when she stepped into the port. She pulled her hood back over her head and headed towards the Tempest. With SAM guiding her it took only 10 minutes to navigate back to the ship. She silently hoped she could at least get to the shower before being bombarded. She was afforded no such luck as Cora, PeeBee, Liam, Vetra, and Jaal were all standing right in front of the airlock as she walked in. They appeared to be discussing whether or not to send a search party for her, they didn't even notice her arrival. “...she's a big girl, she can handle herself.” Vetra was saying“She left her armor and her guns...” Liam protested.“Sam would tell us if anything was wrong,” Cora cut in.“She's been gone for hours, Kadara is a dangerous place,” Jaal pointed out.“She just needed some time to herself... with someone else” PeeBee said smartly. Scarlett cleared her throat making them all jump, though they seemed to relax at once seeing her on deck.“Pathfinder, we were beginning to worry. Are you alright?” Jaal was the first to speak up“Of course, I just went to Kralla's Song for a few drinks, no biggie.” She said slowly pulling her hood down.“Among other things we hear,” PeeBee coughed trying and failing to hide a smirk. Cora and Vetra snickered next to her. Liam and Jaal seemed satisfied that she was back and wandered away.“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Scarlett lied even though she could already feel the blood rushing to her cheeks and her biotics buzzing. “I had some drinks, talked to some locals, and now here I am.”“Are you sure talking is the only thing you did?” Cora didn't even bother holding back her smile.“I'm sure I have no idea what you mean,” Scarlett lied again trying to dodge them to get to the shower. Of course they weren't having any of that.“Drack went to Kralla's Song a little while after you left.” PeeBee was practically singing now.“Drack would never sell me out like that!” But Scarlett knew that her secret was out.“Oh honey, Drack didn't sell you out, it was PeeBee,” Vetra replied gleefully.She shot PeeBee a withering look but the asari just grinned. “Next time you have your lips fused to a man's face one of you should watch where you're walking.”Scarlett wanted to melt into puddle right there, PeeBee was the asari she and Reyes had bumped into on their way out of the club. They took her silence as confirmation and tittered excitedly.“Why are you guys so interested in my sex life?” Ryder asked laughing at the three women. “Because so far you're the only one of us that has one,” Cora said simply.“So spill it Ryder, we want it all,” Vetra prodded.“Nuh-uh, this girl doesn't kiss and tell,” she claimed. “Give us something at least, let us live through you,” Suvi called from her seat.“Fine,” she said dramatically, “His name is Reyes, he has this accent that's just...unf. Very handsome, very charming. My pleasure was his highest priority and he delivered.”“I'll say he did,” Cora grabbed her by the chin and turned her neck so the other two could see the bruises that had bloomed on her neck. If possible she blushed harder as she brushed Cora's hand away“Get it Scarlett!” PeeBee crowed as Ryder gave her a playful shove.“Can I take my shower now? We have to meet our contact in...” she paused looking at the ceiling.“One hour, Pathfinder,” Sam answered.“Right one hour and I need to get cleaned up, so you can mock me later, promise.” She smiled happily as she made her way past her friends.She got to the shower without running into anyone else thankfully. It was only when she stripped down she realized she had forgotten her underwear. Damn those were her favorite pair, too late now though. She turned the shower on and stood gratefully under the steaming water. She was sore in all of the right places and every twinge sent her mind right back to Reyes, the way he had worshiped her body, touching her in all of the right places, how hot her name sounded rolling off his tongue. The memories gave her goosebumps.With a groan she switched the water over to cold, she needed to be focused for this meeting. Although it was supposed to be straight forward nothing had proved to be simple in Helius. Except for falling into bed with Reyes. That had been one of her most satisfying encounters since her arrival and she secretly hoped it would happen again. Thirty minutes later she emerged from her cabin wearing her usual outfit with fresh make up and her hair twisted up into a ponytail. Her scarf strategically hiding the marks Reyes had left behind. Pathfinder mask back in place.She was walking past the crew quarters when she heard Gil's voice, “all right pay up ladies and gents,” followed by several mutters of protest. “Thank you, thank you.”Scarlett poked her head in the door as Drack, Suvi, Liam, and Jaal transferred credits to Gil, “when will guys learn to not bet against him?” When they heard her they all dropped their arms and were suddenly very interested in anything that wasn't her.“And why do you all look so guilty?” she asked when no one answered. At their refusal to meet her eyes she gasped, “you didn't.” Scarlett ran her hand over her face, “you guys are the worst, I swear.” Their laughter followed her as she walked out of the room shaking her head. Of course they would bet on her dalliances. If there were two things she could count on from her crew aside from having her back it was gossip and gambling. It helped make the Tempest feel more like a family and that was something she desperately needed at the moment. But she reminded herself to have a fire drill very soon.She asked Cora and Vetra to accompany her to the meeting, she wasn't expecting trouble but she felt more confident with them on her six. They were mercifully silent about her little rendezvous as they made their way through the port. Another thing she could count on was them knowing when to be serious, even if she didn't always have that ability. Walking through the doors of Kralla's Song flashed Ryder back to Reyes for an instant before they walked up to the bar where Umi was still serving drinks. She leaned against the bar and scanned the crowd, even though she wasn't sure who she should be looking for. Her eyes stopped on the man just walking through the door, he was tall, handsome, and walking straight towards them. No, no, no, absolutely not, the universe was playing a cruel joke. This could not be happening to her right now, he was just coming to say hello. When she heard Cora whisper, “hello handsome,” under her breath she seriously contemplated throwing herself out of the window. Before she had the chance he was standing in front of her.“You look like you're waiting for someone,” he purred offering her one of the glasses Umi had poured him.“I've got time for a drink,” she choked out taking the drink and slamming it. She could feel Vetra's and Cora's eye burning into the back of her head when they heard his thick accent. She heard Cora mumble her approval and Vetra gave a little cough. Please don't let this be happening she begged silently again.“Shena,” he offered, “but you can call me Reyes. I hate code names.” She once again considered jumping out of the window, but she was a professional, she could do this. Behind her however Cora and Vetra lost all form of composure dissolving into fits of laughter and clinging to each other to keep standing. Scarlett was never going to live this down.
10637532	To the Moon and Back	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Kim Yongsun \| Solar, Moon Byulyi \| Moonbyul, Jung Wheein, Ahn Hyejin \| Hwasa, Nam Yoondo \| Eric Nam", "Fandom": "Mamamoo", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by wheesunist", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-15T00:00:00", "words": "4,127", "Additional Tags": "One Shot", "Relationship": "Kim Yongsun \| Solar/Moon Byulyi \| Moonbyul", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/F, F/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	It's 12:29am. Moonbyul is slowly driving through the drizzle that covers Seoul. It's past her usual bedtime, but Yongsun insisted that she come over to her place right away. Whatever it was, she had to go. There was never a time where Moonbyul rejected Yongsun's requests. She would do anything for Yongsun in a heartbeat. A commercial plays on the radio. Irritated, she turns down the volume and just listens to the rain and the cars passing by instead. By the time the commercial ended, she had arrived at the complex. She parked and quickly, put on her favorite white coat, and ran out of the car towards the entrance of the complex trying to avoid the rain as much as she could. Her hands shook violently from the cold as she tried pressing the telecom. "Yongsun, I'm here..." Moonbyul's words trailed off, her lips were pale and she just wanted to get inside as soon as possible."Sorry!" the gate rang and Moonbyul pulled the handle.Moonbyul entered and ran up the stairs in a hurriedly manner. She banged on the door without saying anything and continued until the door finally opens."Took you-" Before Yongsun could finish her sentence, Moonbyul took off her damp jacket and laid on the couch embracing every warm fiber that it could provide. "Sigh, typical," Solar grabbed a blanket in the closet and placed it over Moonbyul's shivering body."Thanks," Moonbyul sat up and wrapped the blanket around herself. "So, why did you call me over?"Yongsun's eyes fixated on the ground and her smile was so bright. "Well, you know how Eric and I have been talking after wgm (We Got Married)?"Moonbyul's expression was unfazed, but her thoughts were filled with sadness. She knew what was coming, but her heart doesn't want to hear what Yongsun had to say. "Yeah, what about it?""... We've decided to actually date..." Yongsun bit her lips and her eyes still didn't waver."And?" "And what?" "You know what I'm asking. How long have you two been dating? Wgm ended almost a year ago," Moonbyul was pissed, but she tried to restrain herself."... Its ... its been a year," Yongsun gulped, hoping Moonbyul's reaction wouldn't be as bad as she had imagined."... Why are you just telling me this now? Wheein and Hyejin aren't going to be happy about this," Moonbyul was now furious, her eyes were glaring at Solar like lasers."... They already knew about it..." She took a peak at Moonbyul and noticed her serious look. "What. When did you tell them? Yesterday?""Uhm. Back in February?" Yongsun closed her eyes tightly."So you basically told them when it started. Why didn't you tell me.""Because I thought you might disapprove.""Why would I disapprove?! That doesn't makes any sense!" Moonbyul stood up and threw the blanket to the ground."You disapproved when we were on wgm, so I just thought you would if you found out." "You were on a reality tv show! Reality. TV! You know I hate those, and they're pratically all scripted! I couldn't bear to watch you on something like that with someone you basically don't know! I still went on the show and everything to support you ...You know I liked Eric, I even told you that one on one off-screen. I just thought you were better than this Yongsun. I thought we were close." Moonbyul grabbed her jacket, "I'm glad you two actually had something after the show. I'm sincerely happy for you. I hope you two have a happy life together." She stormed out and jumped into the car before Yongsun could catch up to her. Different kinds of emotions were clouding her head. Anger. Distress. Sadness. Regret. She was happy that Yongsun was genuinely happy with Eric, the smile on her face when she mentioned him was something she hadn't seen in such a long time. She just felt betrayed; how could you not tell your best friend that you've been dating a guy for almost a year. Moonbyul did realize it now after all those times Yongsun had left them when they were hanging out. But it still wasn't right. Instead of driving home she headed towards the river. The only thing she wanted to do was to cry in peace without anyone disrupting her. The river bank was empty, the only sound you could hear were the sounds of the water and crickets. Byul's tears began streaming as she sat down on the cool grass. Everything was falling apart and the only thing she could do was to watch herself be deceived by the one person she trusted the most. The night went by fast, Moonbyul sat there until dawn wishing it was just a dream. -2 months later-Wheein, Hyejin, and Moonbyul are dancing wildly in the practice room. Their excitement can't be contained, arms and legs are flying everywhere as they jump in joy, until Yongsun bursts in. The music still plays, but all eyes are on her in wonderment. "Guys, I think-" Yongsun stopped when she finally made eye contact with Moonbyul. "I'm sorry, I forgot what I was going to say... Ahh, I'll come back a little later." She exited the room and ran off. Wheein and Hyejin looked at each other, then at Moonbyul wondering what she was even thinking. "It's okay. Text her to come back, I'll head out," Moonbyul turned off the music and threw all her belongings into her bag."Wait, you don't have to leave. I'll call her over, but don't leave," Wheein placed her hand on Moonbyul's shoulder. "Why don't we hear what she wants to say together?""There's no point. We haven't talked in months. I rather just keep our relationship as just Mamamoo members and that's about it.""But even the fans are worried. They know you and Yongsun have been acting strange.""I don't care anymore! Let them know that I don't give a shit about her! Makes it easier on all of us! I already feel pain just trying to act lively on stage with her. I can't keep up with all the forced skinship, its so obvious to the fans that I feel bad.... I didn't ask for any of this. I just wanted to sing on stage and live life without regrets...""Byul, what are you talking about..." Wheein grabbed Moonbyul by her shoulders and looked at her puffy eyes that were filled with tears."I... think .... I like her," she rubbed her tears away from her eyes. All those late night talks and all those videos she saved of them two together, she couldn't let it go. "I gave her everything, and she couldn't even share one measily secret with me.""You know that's not true. You know she cares about you. If she didn't care about your feelings then she would've just told you straight from the beginning.""I rather have her tell me back then than hide all those feelings," The tears wouldn't stop streaming down her face. She was breaking down and the one person she wanted to cheer her up was now gone from her life because of her own accord."Don't act like this. You're better than that. If you really love her, support her," Wheein was determined to make things better for the team, and for Moonbyul and Yongsun.Moonbyul continued to cry for what seemed liked forever. Those months of keeping it in and not talking to Yongsun had built up. She knew it was wrong for her to ignore her because a part of her still wanted Yongsun in her life whether she was a lover or a friend. Nothing sucks more than losing a dear friend over something so small. Moonbyul looked at Wheein and realized that Hyejin was also in shock behind her. She had put all her concerns and sadness onto them and she felt ever more guilty than before."I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have cried here," she fanned her face hoping the tears would stop falling."It's okay, everyone cries, stop acting so tough all the time," Hyejin punched Moonbyul's arm making her smile and giggle for the first time in forever."Thanks," Moonbyul smiled and hugged them both tightly. "I'm going to make things right," she pulled out her cell phone and started searching through her contacts."You're finally going to talk to her?" Wheein peaked over Moonbyul's shoulder."No, I'm going to talk to Eric," Stunned and confused the two girls tried to snatch the phone out of Moonbyul's hand."What are you doing? This isn't the way to make things right," Wheein had never looked so worried. "Don't worry, it's not what you think," Moonbyul grabbed her bag and made her way out the door. "I promise things will be back to normal." Nervous, Moonbyul walked up the stairs of a complex with a torn up magazine in her hand. She knocked on the door. The door swung open and behind it was Eric."Byul! Come in! I was excited to hear that you called," Eric grabbed Moonbyul's jacket and hunged it by the door. "Come have a seat. You want tea or juice?" He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of mugs."Tea is fine, thanks," she looked around the room and noticed the pictures of him and Yongsun plastered all over the walls. She looked away and took a deep breath. Ignore it. "Here you go, I don't know if you'll like it, but this is all I have, sorry..." He carefully laid down the mug and sat down across the coffee table from Moonbyul. "So what did you want to talk to me about?"Moonbyul placed the magazine on the table and flipped to the page where she had left a pink sticky note. "You want to marry Yongsun, right?"Flustered, Eric's eyes widened, "What?! Where did this come from all of a sudden?" Eric's hands were jittery and he couldn't sit still. "W-well, I was thinking about marriage, but I wasn't sure if she would be okay with it...""I'm pretty sure she's ready for it, as long as you are. And also, you make it too obvious that you're thinking about marriage," Moonbyul gave him a genuine smile, thought her heart felt otherwise."What? Did she figure it out?" He thought about all those times he took Yongsun out for dates. "She didn't say, but I think she was hinting it. I could tell just by her smile," Moonbyul turned the magazine so Eric could read it and pushed it towards him. "If you're getting a ring you should get this one," she pointed at the simplistic ring with the tiny diamond in the middle."This small one? I thought she would like a big one.""She actually prefers simple rings. She's never extravagant with things like this. Trust me," Moonbyul gave a weary grin and continued on to the next sticky note. "If you can't get that one, then try to find something similar to it. Try your best to find this ring though." The night went on as the two talked nonstop about the ring and the ceremony. Moonbyul listed everything that Yongsun would like in her wedding and made sure to not miss a single detail about it. It was almost as if Moonbyul was Yongsun's partner. "You know. I don't know how to thank you enough," Eric laid down on the cold wooden floor. "I don't know if you knew this yet, but Yongsun has been depressed for a while.""Yeah, I can sense it," Moonbyul wasn't sure if Eric knew about the whole incident between her and Yongsun."She keeps talking about you. Her face would brighten up, but would immediately go dark afterwards, I thought maybe there was something wrong between the two of you, but here you are and you seem fine.""Maybe she's a little tired," she began tearing up again. She looked up to the ceiling to prevent herself from crying. She didn't want Eric to see her like this. Making Eric worry would just make the situation worse than it already is. "Hey Eric, can you do me a favor?" "Yeah sure, what is it?" Eric closed his eyes and listened."Don't tell Yongsun that we met up, and don't tell her that I told you about the whole ring thing or wedding, okay?""Oh. Sure, but I didn't know any of this, wouldn't she be a little suspicious?" "No, it's fine. If she senses something just tell her that you love her and that you know her like that back of your hand... Tell her that you love her no matter what, and would stick with her through thick and thin no matter the consequences... Tell her... That she means the world to you... Tell her that... Words don't come easy when you describe the amount of love you have for her, that you would take her to the moon and back," Moonbyul's words sounded more like the words she wanted to say to Yongsun, they were heartfelt and came so naturally. "Yes, of course," Eric smiled and sat up. He looked at Moonbyul and noticed her face was red and covered in tears. "Are you okay?! Was it something I said? I'm so sorry," he ran to Moonbyul's side and wiped the tears with his sleeve."No no you didn't say anything wrong. I've just been a mess lately. Listen, thanks for having me over, I hope you take my advice and suggestions whole-heartedly. She'll definitely be happy. I'll be heading out now," Moonbyul shot up and ran out of his apartment without even taking her jacket. Eric was left on the couch speechless. He knew that Moonbyul was depressed, but he wasn't sure why. All he knew was that he needed to make Yongsun happy and listen to Moonbyul's words. Months after that talk with Moonbyul, it was finally D-day. He got the ring that Moonbyul suggested and had it ready. She had told him to propose to her at his house instead of a big fancy proposal. He had made beef intestine soup with a side of ddeokbokki and everything else was set. All he had to do now was wait for Yongsun to come. It was around 7:30pm and Yongsun knocked on Eric's door gently. Eric raced to the door and opened it slowly. Yongsun was glowing, she had just came back from work, but her makeup was absolutely flawless and she was shining more than ever. Eric was speechless and just stood there in awe. "Can I come in?" Yongsun giggled and smiled at Eric's stupid expression."Ah yeah, my bad," Eric pulled the door open and made way for Yongsun. "Let me get your coat for you," he took her coat off for her and placed it on the hanger next to Moonbyul's jacket. Yongsun saw that jacket and her expression turned bleak. She pretended she saw wrong and took her eyes off the white windbreaker. The two made their way towards the dining table that was filled with food. Yongsun's smile came back and the two continued their dinner. The dinner was unusually quite since Yongsun was stuffing her face with food and Eric was too nervous to even think about talking or eating. Fortunately, dinner was almost over and he could finally get to the climax. Yongsun saw the worried look on Eric's face and put her chopsticks down. "Is everything okay? You didn't really touch your food," Yongsun wiped her mouth with a napkin."Yongsun," Eric had his hands on his thighs and gripped his pants tightly. "We've been dating for quite a while now and I don't know if I tell you this enough, but I love you." Confused, Yongsun tilted her head. "Are you ill?" Yongsun reached over and placed her hand over Eric's head. Everything seemed fine, so she was even more confused. Eric let out a small laugh and continued with his speech."I love you... a lot, and I don't know what I would do without you. I didn't think a girl like you even existed and I think I'm pretty lucky to call you mine. That's why I would like to spend the rest of my life with you," Eric pushed his seat back and walked towards Yongsun. He had one knee to the ground and pulled out a small black box from his pocket. Yongsun's eyes grew wild and her smile was dazzling. "Will you marry me?" He opened the box and inside was the first ring that Moonbyul had told Eric to get. Yongsun's eyebrows furrowed together as she looked at the ring. The ring looked almost too familiar and it made her feel heavy inside. She stood up from her chair and left her gaze at the ring. It was a ring that she had wanted since she was a little girl, but there was no way Eric would have known something like this. The only people who had known about her wedding fantasies was-- Moonbyul. Yongsun looked at the windbreaker by the door, her throat went dry and it was hard for her to breathe. Her eyes started stinging and she clenched her fists to prevent the tears. "Eric, who told you to get me that ring," her eyes were on the jacket. Her heart was skipping multiple beats."... I picked it out myself. I- I thought you might like a ring like this. Is this not good enough? I'll go get you a different one," Eric felt embarrassed. He got up and looked at the ring."No, that ring... I've always wanted that ring. I'm wondering how you even knew," Yongsun was waiting for Eric's answer. She knew the answer, yet she wanted to confirm it before she assumed anything else. Eric looked like he was lost and he didn't know what to do. "'...I love you and... um... Words don't come easy when I have to describe the amount of love I have for you. I would take you to the moon and back...I ... love you no matter what the consequences are and through thick and thin,'" he took the words that Moonbyul had told him and hoped that Yongsun would forget about the ring issue, but, instead, Yongsun was filled with tears and sadness."... This isn't right...," Yongsun ran and grabbed the white windbreaker and left Eric there with no answer and in bewilderment. Yongsun was running in the rain, she had forgot to call her manager to pick her up and she left her own coat in Eric's apartment. The rain didn't faze her though, the only thing on her mind was to find the owner of the jacket that she was passionately holding onto. Her instincts led her to their company's dance room. Inside was Wheein practicing. Wheein stopped what she was doing and stared at a drenched Yongsun who was wearing only a dress."Yongsun!! What happened? Why aren't you wearing a jacket? Why are you holding a jacket and not using it? The hell?! Are you insane?!" Wheein grabbed her head towel from her bag and began wrapping it around Yongsun's body."Wheein... I ... Don't have time to explain. Just tell me where Moonbyul is," Yongsun was panting, she took out her phone and started to scroll down her contacts."I don't know where she is, but she may be at home," Wheein didn't stop drying her, she was glad that Yongsun had come to her senses, but her actions were reckless."No, she's rarely home. I don't think she's there," Yongsun took some time to think and recharge instead of aimlessly running in the rain again. After a good 5 minutes, she had thought of a place and headed out the door."Where are you going? At least tell me so I know where you are! Stop!" Wheein yelled, but Yongsun was long gone before she could even finish her sentence. An hour had gone by and Yongsun was still running. She didn't even get the chance to stop to catch a breath. She needed to see Moonbyul, even if she was on the verge of death, her legs would still be moving. Yongsun turned the corner and she was facing the river. She finally stopped and gasped heavily for air as her eyes scanned the area. She tried her best to look around, but it was so damn dark. "Moonbyul!" She was screaming and screaming, "Moonbyul!" She ran towards the other side of the river and continued to scream,"Moonbyul!!!" There was no answer, the rain got heavier, but Yongsun didn't lose hope. As she was running, she stopped and looked closer to what was in the distance. There was a figure crouched under the bridge. She quickly ran and wished that she was right. "Moonbyul," Yongsun looked down at the girl that had her heard against her knees. "Yongsun? What the hell? You're soaked!! What are you doing?!" Moonbyul was extremely worried. She noticed the jacket in Yongsun's hand and realized that she had found out."Why did you do it?" Yongsun stood there in front of her looking down as she was dripping wet. "Because I know you love him, and I just wanted to live happily.""Is that how you really feel?" Yongsun gripped the jacket tighter waiting for Moonbyul."Yeah. I see how happy he makes you and this is me making up for the time I got mad at you for nothing," Moonbyul couldn't make eye contact with her. It was too hard to do, and she knew she would break down if she looked at Yongsun's face. Yongsun's face was emotionless. No one could tell if she was mad or sad at the whole situation, the other person who could possible know is herself. She kneeled down to Moonbyul's eye level and moved closer to her. Moonbyul could feel Yongsun's warmth, and she ended up putting her head down even lower in hopes that Yongsun wouldn't see her flustered. "Byul," Yongsun tried hard to make eye contact with Moonbyul. "Byul, look at me," Moonbyul raised her head and saw the hurt in Yongsun's eyes. Her makeup was a mess from the rain, but she still looked as beautiful as ever in her eyes. They stared at each other for a moment until Yongsun leaned closer to Byul. Their eyes didn't lose contact, Yongsun pushed Byul's hair back behind her right ear and let her hand fall behind Byul's neck. Byul shuttered at the sudden caress and Yongsun's eyes were now filled with lust. Yongsun leaned in slowly and let her lips touch Byul's. Their mouths collide, and their tongues danced. Yongsun grabbed Byul's waist and the only sound they could hear were their own gasps and moans. As the rain subsided, they released each other and Yongsun rested her head against Byul's chest. They sat there in silence just trying to enjoy each other's company since they haven't seen each other in such a long time. "So how'd you know it was me? It was the jacket, huh," Moonbyul was playing with Yongsun's petite hands."No it wasn't the jacket.""Then how?" Moonbyul stopped for a moment to figure out another way."'I'll take you to the moon and back?' I'll love you no matter what?' how obvious can you get Moon Byulyi."What? isn't that what all guys say to the girl they love?" Moonbyul laughed, but she was also being serious."No, that's only something someone cheesy would say, aka you," Yongsun was having a blast poking fun at Moonbyul. It felt like old times to her."So... what did you say to Eric?" Moonbyul cleared her throat, but it just made it even more uncomfortable for her."I didn't say anything to him. I left after I found out it was you.""So what does that mean?" Yongsun sat up and looked at Moonbyul face to face. "It means I love you," Yongsun gave her a warm smile. Moonbyul couldn't help but blush. "Achoo!" Yongsun sneezed and Moonbyul looked at her with worry."Wow you're getting sick... who told you to run without a jacket on?""You did," Moonbyul took the white jacket Yongsun had carried around all night and wrapped it around her. "You can't get sick or else I can't kiss you," Moonbyul clicked her tongue and gave Yongsun a wink."... I'm going back to Eric," Yongsun got up and started walking back home. "Wait! I was just kidding! Wait up for me!" Moonbyul quickly got up and ran towards Yongsun. They walked through the cold night together, hand in hand, and with their hearts in the same place.
10693425	leave behind these	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Bodhi Rook, Cassian Andor, Baze Malbus, Chirrut Îmwe, Jyn Erso", "Fandom": "Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by misskatieleigh", "chapters": "2/2", "completed": "2017-05-18", "published": "2017-04-21T00:00:00", "words": "1,580", "Additional Tags": "Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, hair cutting", "Relationship": "Cassian Andor/Bodhi Rook", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Bodhi’s hands were shaking. He tried telling himself that there was nothing to worry about, that there was nothing to lose; standing in the hallway outside one of the many common rooms on base, listening to his friends laugh and tease each other. He would ask and Cassian would answer and that would be the end of this. Life would go on, in any case.Bodhi steeled his shoulders and stepped through the doorway.Cassian was sitting on the far side of the room, fiddling with the holoprojector while the image flickered in and out of focus. Jyn was laid out on the couch, face pressed into the cushion. He didn’t understand how she could breathe like that, but more often than not, given a soft surface, Jyn would flop down face first and nothing short of an emergency could get her up again. Baze and Chirrut were sitting close together, their voices hushed but fond as they waited for Cassian to get the holo sorted.Bodhi cleared his throat, pushing his unbound hair behind his ear and walking up to Cassian.“I’d like you to cut my hair.”Behind him, Baze cut short whatever he was saying to Chirrut, silence suddenly flooding the room. Cassian glanced up at him quickly, then back down at the projector.“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Bodhi. I’ve never cut anyone’s hair before. Besides, we have people on base that will do that for you.”His words were said kindly; he couldn’t know how they cut through Bodhi’s heart. He took a breath, giving it one last desperate attempt.“No, Cassian. I – I want you to do it. Please. It’s – it’s hard to explain.”From behind him, Baze suddenly spoke up, his voice gruff. “Jedhan’s don’t let strangers touch their hair.”That was true, though not the full extent of it. Bodhi wasn’t sure if Baze was protecting him or not, giving such a simple explanation for something that was woven through his whole being. He could recall with intimate detail, his mother’s hands in his hair, her gentle voice telling him story after story. She’d called his hair his crown of glory, regarded every inch of it as precious and dear. You didn’t touch anyone’s hair without their permission. It was the essence of them, their soul for the world to see.Some chose to keep it hidden, to share only with their family, their lovers. Some had intricate designs braided into it, love and care wrapped around every strand, a testament written by the loved one that had been offered the privilege.He’d spent weeks in the med bay, breath held in his throat every time some well-meaning nurse had washed his hair, gritting his teeth against the foreign touch. Reminding himself that they didn’t know, that it was meant as a kindness. He hadn’t realized how much it was bothering him until he was finally released from medical, finally allowed to wash his own hair in the privacy of his own room.Now he needed it cut, to grieve for Jedha, for Tonc and Melshi and all the lives that had been lost so he could live. For Alderaan, snuffed out in the blink of an eye. For Galen, who’d started this all.Cassian was watching him. He wondered how long he’d been standing there, lost in his own thoughts. He held out the scissors clenched in his hand.“Please, Cassian. I want you to be the one to do this.”Cassian stood up, taking the scissors from Bodhi’s hand.“Well, if it means that much to you…”Bodhi nodded, his eyes closing in relief.“It does. And thank you.”———-They went into the ‘fresher tucked into the corner of the common room, Cassian carrying a stool that he placed in front of the sink so Bodhi could sit and see his face reflected back in the mirror. He smiled nervously at Cassian’s reflection, watching as Cassian looked at the hair falling over his shoulders.“Are you sure you want to cut it? You have such lovely hair, Bodhi.”Warmth bloomed in his chest, slowly spreading outward until he felt his cheeks heating up. He cleared his throat against the emotion crowding there.“I’m sure. It – It’s something we do – we did, on Jedha. When someone dies, you cut your hair. To honor them. It’s – it’s important.”Cassian drew his lower lip between his teeth, nodding slightly.“Okay, how much should I cut then?”Bodhi closed his eyes.“All of it.”———-Cassian worked slowly and carefully, running his fingers through Bodhi’s hair, gently working through any tangles he found until it lay sleek and straight down his back. He raised the scissors up, then glanced up at the mirror, catching Bodhi’s eyes.“You’re sure?”Bodhi smiled, just a soft twitch at the corners of his mouth. Thought of his mother’s sad eyes when his father had died, the feel of her thick hair falling to the ground.“I’m sure.”He closed his eyes as Cassian made the first cut. Made himself remember every name of every person that he had known on Jedha. Prayed that they were together, that they forgave him, that the Force held them and let them see the future, the hope that they’d died for.———-Cassian was grasping his shoulder, shaking him gently.“Bodhi, I’ve finished. Take a look.”He opened his eyes slowly, letting them readjust to the light from being closed for so long. Cassian backed away, bending down to sweep the shorn hair into a pile with his hands.The reflection was familiar, but foreign at the same time – a stranger with his eyes. Bodhi reached up to touch, ran his fingers up the back of his neck and forward. His head felt so light now and he wondered if that was the true reason behind the ritual, to shed the weight and guilt of what was lost. He smiled at his reflection, some past memory suddenly brought back.“Oh. I look like my father.”Cassian made a soft noise of distress, his hands coming up to rest on Bodhi’s shoulders again. His head dipped down, his forehead pressing against the nape of Bodhi’s neck.“I feel like this means more than you’re telling me, Bodhi.”Bodhi drew in a breath sharply, hyper aware of every place that Cassian was touching him, the warm moist breath against his neck, Cassian’s heart beating stutter stop against his back.“I – it’s not. It doesn’t have to mean anything to you, Cass.”“Bodhi, of course it does. I – I care about you. Kriff, I owe you my life. Please, just tell me. Why did it need to be me?”Bodhi closed his eyes. He couldn’t look at Cassian, not if he wanted to say it right, not if he wanted to say it at all.“On Jedha, no one touches your hair, except your family. Or – or sometimes, the person that you’re closest to. The person you, you lo-.” Bodhi swallowed, clenching his jaw before continuing. “The person you love.”Cassian stood up, letting go of Bodhi’s shoulders. The room was quiet, just the sound of the two of them breathing. Bodhi squeezed his eyes shut tighter, praying for the floor to open up and swallow him. He wasn’t going to cry, he’d promised himself that before. Then Cassian’s hands were on his cheeks, calloused and rough.“Oh Bodhi. Bodhi open your eyes…”Bodhi bit his lip, hands clenched over his knees tightly, and opened his eyes. Cassian was watching him, his face softer than Bodhi had ever seen it. He smiled, his eyes warm and bright.“Bodhi, would you… would you cut my hair?”Bodhi let out the breath he’d been holding, a soft laugh escaping. Hope and life bloomed in his chest. The future.“Yes, Cassian. Of course.”———-The next morning in the mess hall, the room gets quiet when Bodhi enters. There are as many hairstyles as there are species on the rebel base, but for some reason it appears that more than a few have suddenly decided to cut their hair. As he walks past, they nod at him, whispering names of those they lost, for this person, for that person. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Cassian’s there, wrapping him in a hug.“They did it to thank you, because so many more would be gone without you.”Bodhi touches his hair, light and clean. He’s found a new home. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Bodhi remembers, how strange it had felt, the crackle in the air that day. People came from villages, some weeks away from the holy city by foot. Their oppressors forget how strong a person can become for the right cause. They stop at the city’s edge, kneel down to whisper their blessings into the sand and rise with bared heads and lighter hearts. The strands escape, gather in corners and gutters alike - a metaphor beyond his four year old mind. The birds enjoy it, their nests tight and warm against the cold winds. He wraps thin arms around legs that carry his world, feeling the whisper of all that hair falling around him. It’s a blessing of its own, his mother twined about his wrists and caught in his collar. They grieve as one people, fistfulls of their honor raised in defiance to deaf ears. Years later, his own grief falls to the floor. A silent battle cry, but it grows. Someday their enemy will hear it’s call.
10636563	Highly Aggressive Moss	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Kira Nerys, Jadzia Dax", "Fandom": "Star Trek: Deep Space Nine", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by sophiegaladheon", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-15T00:00:00", "words": "2,712", "Additional Tags": "Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Panic Attacks, Anxiety Attacks, Kira went through some traumatic stuff growing up, Dax tries to be a supportive girlfriend", "Relationship": "Jadzia Dax/Kira Nerys", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "Women of Star Trek", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Kira Nerys was having a bad day. Well, to be fair, she was having a bad month. Deep Space Nine was a nightmare to run on a good day. The combination of decades-old Cardassian engineering being forced to interface with technology from the Federation as well as half of Bajor’s other allied systems and the cultural, political, and social stresses that arose from cramming individuals from all of those varied backgrounds into a small self-contained structure floating in space led to a bureaucratic nightmare that some days led Kira to almost long for her days in the Bajoran underground. At least then she could shoot, sabotage, or blow up her opponents. Now she has to try and ensure everyone and everything worked together peacefully.Within the last month, the added stresses from the growing threat of the Dominion only increased Kira’s troubles. Don’t go getting all nostalgic for your war days yet, Nerys, Kira thought, With the way things are headed you may have a chance to go back to the ‘good old days’ sooner than you might hope.Quickly she shook her head. No, it was wrong to think like that. For all she was proud of her service to Bajor, for all the good she and her colleagues in the underground had done, it had been messy, dirty, violent work and she had no real desire to relive those days. Even with the hassles and headaches of managing the station, Kira knew her life now was far better than it had ever been in the underground. Of course, currently Kira’s problem was neither the station, it’s inhabitants, or the possibility of war with the Dominion. Instead, she was faced with the prospect of spending the next week on a planetary survey mission in the Gamma quadrant. Which would be fine, except for the fact that doing so was taking her away from dealing with the mountains of paperwork, negotiations, and management hassles which resulted from dealing with the station, it’s inhabitants, and the possibility of war with the Dominion. After all, she was the second in command of Deep Space Nine, it was her job to make sure things ran smoothly, and with the way things had been going lately she couldn’t afford to take even a day off to go on some planetary survey mission, let alone a week.All of which she had explained the day before to Commander Sisko, who listened very patiently before telling her that surely he and the other senior staff could look after the station for a week and that he was not going to turn down the request for her presence on the survey mission so she might as well try and enjoy herself.Which is how Kira now found herself reporting to runabout pad C and boarding the Rio Grande. The hatch hissed shut behind her and Kira made her way to the cockpit.“Well there you are, right on time. Take a seat, we’ll get on our way as soon as we’re cleared to depart.”Kira started slightly at the voice and, as the pilot’s seat turned around, the smiling face of Jadzia Dax.“Oh, so you’re the one I have to blame for dragging me out on this ridiculous trip,” Kira said, regaining her composure as she settled down into the copilot’s chair.“Ridiculous?” said Dax with a raised eyebrow, turning back to the controls and redirecting her attention to docking bay control for a moment as the runabout received clearance to depart. Once they were on their flight path to the wormhole she added, “I’ll have you know the planet we’ll be surveying shows signs of particularly interesting botanical activity, according to probe data. There should be multiple unique species of moss and ferns to examine.” “Oh, good, a whole week spent looking at moss.” “A whole week looking at moss with me.” Kira rolled her eyes. “It’s still moss. And anyway, if you hadn’t noticed, I’m very busy right now, with work that requires my attention back on the station. Moss is rather low on my list of priorities at the moment, no matter how scientifically interesting. How did you manage to talk Sisko into having me come with you? I’m sure one of the Starfleet security officers would have done just as well.”Dax laughed. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I did notice how busy you are. However, did it occur to you,” she asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “That your girlfriend might be trying to arrange for you to take a break before you collapse from exhaustion.” “Well, I,” Kira huffed, throwing her hands up before dropping them into her lap. She paused for a moment before her shoulders began to shake slightly with surpressed laughter. “Do you mean to tell me you’ve kidnapped me to go on a date?”“Well, not so much kidnapped as asked Benjamin to rearrange your schedule to allow us to go on a week-long survey mission in the Gamma quadrant. Or, well, yes, a date.”At that Kira could no longer contain her laughter. “I’m still mad, you know,” she managed to choke out the words between bouts of laughter. “I’m going to have so much catch up work when we get back.”“Maybe,” said Dax, in between her own giggles, “But the next week is going to be fun.”“I’m going to hold you to that.” “This is some highly aggressive moss,” said Kira, shouting as she ducked behind a boulder, the phaser’s beam instead striking the tree trunk behind her. She brought up her own phaser to return fire.“Oh don’t start,” said Dax, crouched next to her hastily packing up the specimens she had collected. “How was I supposed to know we’d run into a Jem’Hadar patrol?”“Given how these sorts of things usually go, it’s really not that unexpected.” Kira spared a glance over at Dax. “You ready to go?” At the other’s affirmative nod Kira picked up her own pack, still firing back in the direction of the invisible Jem’Hadar.“Right, back to the ship. Let’s hope they haven’t found that yet.”“Oh, don’t even say it.”They turned and ran through the dense woods, retracing the path they had marked earlier in their expedition. Kira swore as her foot caught on one of the gnarled roots that protruded from the ground. Unbalanced by the heavy pack, she fell face first onto the forest floor, feeling a snap as her ankle twisted in her boot. She let out a shriek she would fervently deny later at the pain.Ahead of her, Dax turned. “Are you alright?”Kira gasped, pushing herself up on her forearms. She tried to move her foot and clenched her teeth. “No. My ankle,” she said, gasping slightly, “I’m not sure how bad, but worse than a sprain.”Dax hesitated for a moment before striding over and picking Kira up, pulling her close against her chest. Kira flinched slightly as the shift knocked her ankle around and wrapped her arms around Dax’s shoulders. “You good?” Dax asked.Kira nodded. “Yes. Go.”Dax took off running for the clearing where they had left the Rio Grande. Kira looked back over her shoulder and saw the slight flickers of movement that indicated their pursuers. She gripped Dax tighter, clenching her teeth against the shooting pain in her ankle.They reached the runabout and were relieved to find it unmolested by any Dominion forces. Dax set Kira down in the crew compartment before hurrying up to the cockpit. Kira lay back on the bunk, carefully adjusting her injured ankle. She heard the impact of phasers on the runabout hull as she felt the craft lift off.Kira winced and clenched her hands together into fists at her sides. The helplessness of being injured, unable to fight against whatever enemy she and her cohort were facing, was always worse than the physical pain of an injury. The powerlessness of being unable to confront her attackers always took her back to her childhood, to the choking fear and the desperation of the occupation. She felt her throat tighten and she had to focus on how to breathe. Her heart was loud in her ears, pounding in her chest as she forced one breath after another, in, out, in, out. She clenched her hands into fists against the bunk, trying to stop their trembling. A few slow tears escape and roll down her cheeks as she squeezed her eyes shut. She only looked up when Dax walked in. Dax stopped just inside the doorway, looking at Kira. She smiled softly, reassuring.“We got away. We’re on our way back to the station and they didn’t have any ships in orbit when we left, so they won’t be able to catch us.” She moved over to the bunk and sat down on the edge, facing Kira.Kira nodded, shuddering as she tried to control her breathing. She carefully unclenched her hands, holding them out in front of her to Dax who took them.“Hey there, do you want to talk about it?” she asked, running her thumbs over the backs of Kira's hands.Kira shook her head, paused, swallowed, then nodded. “Just give me a minute,” she said between breaths.“Okay,” Dax said, “I want to take a look at your ankle now. Is that alright?” At Kira’s nod she got up, gently placing Kira’s hands down on her lap, and walked over to pick up the runabout’s first aid kit before returning to the bunk and sitting down at Kira’s feet.Carefully moving to remove the boot from the injured foot, Dax began to speak in a low, soothing tone. “Did I tell you about the experiment I was working on last week? No? Well, we’d received these probe readings from a binary star system with some very interesting gravimetric data attached.”Kira closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall of the bunk, focusing on the sound of Dax’s voice if not the specifics of what she was saying. Slowly, she could feel her heart rate slow and her breathing steady. Her hand was still shaking as she reached up to wipe the damp trails off her cheeks, but she was starting to feel just slightly more in control. As Dax finished up her first aid and her story Kira opened her eyes and took in the sight of her partner neatly packing away excess bandages. “Hypo for the pain?” Dax asked, holding up the device. Kira thought for a moment than nodded and Dax leaned forward to depress the hypospray against Kira’s neck. “That’s all I can do for now, I’m afraid,” said Dax as she leaned back, looking up at Kira with a slight grin, “You’ll have to go to the infirmary when we get back to have it checked out.”Kira summoned up a faint groan. “Oh no.”“Oh yes,” said Dax, carefully maneuvering herself up on the bunk so she was lying alongside Kira. “You can’t avoid Julian all the time.” She held her arm out and Kira gratefully accepted the offer, carefully tucking herself up under Dax’s arm.“I can certainly try,” said Kira, snuggling closer to the comfortable heat and soothing presence beside her. She could feel Dax’s chuckle reverberate through the rib cage below her cheek.They lay there in comfortable silence, the combination of the hum of the runabout’s engines and the tranquilizing effect of the painkiller lulling Kira into a daze. The pain in her ankle had lessened to a dull throb and Dax was a comforting if silent presence at her side.“Do you still want to talk about it?” The soft-spoken question cut through the stillness between them.Kira stayed silent for several long moments. “Not really much to talk about,” she said finally, before forcing out “It was just bad memories.” She trailed off. Dax’s hand was slowly running up and down Kira’s arm. She focused on that, mapping the sensation, letting it ground her. She took a deep breath. “I hate feeling helpless. It reminds me of things I’d rather not think about. And I felt helpless today. I was stuck back here, couldn’t even run if I had to, while you were the one who got us away.” Kira felt like she was forcing the words out, pushing them through her throat, quickly before she stopped herself. “That’s what set me off. Nothing, really. Just, old wounds.”For a moment Dax said nothing, just kept running her hand up and down Kira’s arm. Then, “It’s not nothing. You’ve seen more in your lifetime than most people ever do, and yeah,” a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder, “You have some issues. You survived the war and now you’re trying to survive the peace. And in some ways that’s probably harder. But you’re very strong, Nerys. Sometimes I worry you’re too strong. You work so hard and bottle everything up and I worry about you.”Kira snorted. “You’re one to talk.”“Okay, fair.” Dax chuckled as she slid down so she was face to face with Kira. “But I, for all my work obsessive tendencies and eight lifetimes worth of issues, know when it’s time to take a break and have fun.” “Isn’t that why you’re here? To remind me when it’s time to have a little fun?” Kira snuggled closer before wrapping her arms around Dax.“Why, of course,” Dax replied with a grin and Kira leaned forward to press her lips to the other’s. “What happened?” asked Dr. Bashir, his voice rising with alarm as he hurried across the infirmary, “I thought you two were out collecting moss.”“Well,” said Kira, carefully shifting her weight off of Dax’s shoulder as she sat down on one of the infirmary’s beds, “The moss fought back.”“Yes, I can see that,” said Dr. Bashir. “Now,” as he helped Kira lift her injured leg onto the bed, “Let’s have a look, shall we?” That evening, after Dr. Bashir stopped fussing over Kira’s ankle and a preliminary report on the incident had been filed, Kira found herself back in her quarters, curled up on the sofa, injured leg stretched out in front of her, and a soft, thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Dax was across the room, fetching dinner from the replicator.“Here you go,” she said, handing Kira a plate and utensils before sitting down on the opposite end of the couch with her own meal.They settled in to eat, a companionable silence falling over the room. “Thank you,” said Kira as she leaned forward to set her now empty plate down on the coffee table. “I needed that.”“Hey, all I did was replicate it.”“Still, thank you.” Kira paused for a moment. “I mean it. Thanks for everything.” Dax set her own plate aside. “It’s not a problem.” She leaned forward until her face was directly in front of Kira’s. “I mean it. I love you, Nerys.” She leaned forward, closing the space between them and pressed her lips lightly to Kira’s, just for a moment before she pulled back and smiled. Kira barely prevented herself from rolling her eyes as she saw the seriousness and solemn intent practically flee from Dax’s expression, driven out by the more familiar figures of mischief and glee.There was a twinkle in Dax’s eyes as she said, “Now. We weren’t supposed to be back for three more days. And you’re injured. So that gives me the perfect excuse to keep you here.”“Ugh, Jadzia.”“Nope! No complaints,” said Dax as she got up to return the dishes to the replicator. “I’m going to keep you from your papers for a few more days. You deserve the rest, I’ve already cleared it with Benjamin, and I want to pamper my girlfriend. You have no excuse.” Kira threw up her hands in mock surrender, flopping back against the sofa. “Alright, alright. You have me outmaneuvered. I’ll take a break. Anyway, it’s not as if I’d be much use corralling the Promenade Merchant’s Association’s monthly meeting on crutches.”Dax’s smile grew even broader. “Oh, you’d manage if you had to. But you most definitely do not. So how about we start with dessert?”
10619493	Altruistic	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel)", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by JuniperLemon", "chapters": "2/2", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-14T00:00:00", "words": "2,225", "Additional Tags": "AU, not super steve, kind steve, Stony - Freeform, Beginnings of relationship, Tony actually cares, relationship, Cute, Romance, First Meeting, Alternate Universe, steve is not captain america", "Relationship": "Steve Rogers/Tony Stark", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	This is not my bed, was the first thought that surfaced through the mist of unconsciousness. He was swarmed by a musky, warm smell that made the genius fell utterly content for some incomprehensible reason. He turned his head slightly to bury his nose in the pillow. It then dawned on him that he had absolutely no idea where the hell he was or how the hell he got there.He cracked open his eyes and peered around. It was dark inside as the small window faced the neighboring apartment block so the light couldn't filter in. The dated blinds and bulky wardrobe gave the small bedroom a sort of tired and aged look. Tony had definitely never been here before; his usual overnight stops tended to be of a higher class than this. He wrinkled his nose in a manner of superiority. At least his black vest was still on so nobody could poke at the Arc reactor.The bed beside him was empty and still made. So obviously he hasn't slept with the homeowner. He silently thanked the Gods. He glanced around the room and his spotted his Iron Man armour piled on the floor in all states of disrepair. He groaned at the thought of having to sit and painstakingly repair each individual piece.If he'd been kidnapped by some crazy fan, which he assumed he had, then he needed to get out before they came back and continued their obsessive fantasies about him. His clothes were folded into perfect A4 sized piles on a small stool that appeared to act as a bedside table. He hauled himself up, groaning as his muscles and various bruises protested. The bed creaked as he perched on the edge and held his breath expecting his host to march back in and restrain him or something.He slipped on his clothes and crept over to the door. He peaked through the gap and could see the sparsely furnished living/kitchen space. It was small, cramped and dull. Similarly decorated in old fashioned, bulky furniture like in the bedroom. Only a couch, coffee table and bookshelf in the lounge and basic cooking utensils in the kitchenette.It was only after a couple moments of inspection did he realise that there was the huge frame of a man sprawled across the small love seat. His body was too long meaning his neck was bent at a painfully bizarre angle and feet were hanging free. But what made him freeze was that the man was practically an Adonis and stunningly good looking. If Tony wasn't versed in this area he would have been blushing at the mere thoughts surging through his head.He opened the door carefully but it betrayed him in a squeaked. The homeowner suddenly snapped awake with his light eyes immediately on his guest. Some snap fast reflexes."You're awake! Are you okay?" He pulled himself up from the couch and took a couple of steps towards the man but stopped upon noticing Tony's uncertain expression, "You need to eat something." He hurried over to the kitchen area where he began rummaging around in his off white refrigerator.Tony, feeling his aching body get weaker, leant against the back of the love seat so he could keep an eye on his bizarre host."You've been unconscious for nearly 12 hours and I was really starting to get concerned." He said over his shoulder as he pulled together the buildings of a sandwich. "But you're up now. I put some ointment stuff on a few of your scraps and bruises... I hope you don't mind. I'm Steve, by the way." He rambled.He encouraged Stark to rest down on the seat and handed him the food."How are you feeling?" He asked again."I've been better." He mumbled gruffly as he took a bite of the sandwich.Only then did he release how truly hungry he actually was and devoured it in a matter of moments. Steve rose wordlessly and prepared another sandwich. He added it to Tony's plate, who murmured an appreciative noise around another mouthful. He didn't mention anything but he could see that the only things in the fridge was the materials required for a sandwich. Aside from that, empty."What's your name? Do you remember what happened?"He swallowed, "Tony and kinda. It's a bit fuzzy."He remembered everything up until the team had separated and gone off in different directions to fight the aliens across the city. Everything after that was either fuzzy or nonexistent.He asked, "Where did you find me?""I heard a loud thump on the roof so I went up to check it out. You were up there surrounded by bits of that robot thing." Steve gestured back to the bedroom where the suit was lying broken. "I didn't know what to do so I brought you back down here and hoped you'd wake up soon.""Thanks for picking me up though." Literally, he thought chuckling."No need to thank me. Anyone would do the same." He answered, humbly. "Do you have anyone we need to call? A wife? Family?" He suggested."Oh, shit. They're gonna think I went on a bender or died... Probably a bender. Seems more like me." He rummaged in his pocket before realising he didn't take his StarkPhone on missions as he usually had Jarvis communicating for him. "Do you have a phone I can borrow?""Um, sure." He began to rummage around in an old satchel before he found an old, beaten up cell phone. "Here.""Made a stop at the Stone Age to pick this up?" He chuckled as he picked up the cell.Steve's face when red and he rubbed the back of his neck, "It's all I've been able to afford since coming out of the army."Guilt washed through Tony, "I'm sorry, I was only joking. It's good." He breathed out through his mouth, "You were in the military?"Steve smiled, "Yeah, joined on my 18th birthday and had been in until this year. Got injured and set home but I'm on the mend. Come on, you've got family worrying about you."He dialled Pepper's number but her phone appeared to be off then he remembered she was on a flight back from Tokyo. He groaned as he instead rang Clint, knowing he'd be on base.He picked up in only a couple of rings, "How the fuck did you get this number and who the fuck are you? Don't think I won't hunt you down.""Clint, Clint. Calm down it's me.""Stark? Where are you? You'd better say a bender because I have some serious money on that." The archer commented."I'm not on a bender. I'm at Steve's apartment. I must-" He got cut off half way through his sentence."You got laid? Crap, now I owe Nat." He moaned, sounding distracted as though this conversation was not living up to his expectations."I didn't get laid!" He snapped, for some reason it felt like an attack on Steve's morals even though it definitely wasn't. "After the battle I must have got knocked out or something because I woke up in this guy's apartment. He said he found me on the roof. Anyway, just tell Fury that unfortunately for him I'm still kicking around and I'll be back to base soon.""Sure, sure." Clint muttered.Tony hung up with an eye roll. Trust Clint to be disinterested when his colleague phones to report his continued existence. He passed the phone back to his friend with a smile."You might want to delete that number. He won't be a fan of a stranger keeping his number.""Is Clint your..." He hesitated, "Boyfriend?"Tony barked out a laugh, "Clint?! No! Honestly he'd be the last person on Earth I'd pick."Steve smiled slightly. There was a beat of silence. Despite how cliché everything was turning out to be, Steve stared into Stark's eyes for a while as he tried to decide whether it'd be reasonable to think anything could ever happened between them. Tony would leave soon and probably never see him ever again. The ex-soldier sighed, glancing away."Let's get your stuff ready for you." He stood quickly to gather the parts of the Iron Man suit. It was in such a state of disrepair that it was basically unrecognisable. "What is this anyway?"Tony's eyebrows rose. He'd assumed that Steve had automatically known who he was when he first laid eyes on him. It wasn't like he didn't have a world famous face."You don't know who I am?"The blond paused slightly looking rather put on the spot, "I... ah, am I supposed to?" He flashed a guilty smile."No! Just most people do so I was surprised." He didn't want Steve to feel he was abnormal or something.Rogers blushed like a tomato as his eyes glanced around the room in a desperate attempt to avoid his eye contact. He knew he'd been a bit distant from society since joining the army but never expected it to become an issue, "Don't I look just stupid... I don't really watch tv and I only read a couple of headlines when something big has happened. I guess I've just been out of the loop so long and it feels weird to have-" He began to ramble on."Steve, you don't need to explain yourself. I didn't expect anything from you." The genius reassured him easily, "And besides, when I first woke up I was paranoid that I'd been kidnapped by some crazy stalker fan so this is a much better outcome." He grinned.Blushing again, Steve bucked up the courage to mutter, "I get why people want to kidnap you." Immediately he threw his hands up to hide his face, "Oh gosh, I just realised how bad that sounds! I'm so sorry.""No, I liked it." He chuckled looking warmly at his host.They talked for several more hours about Steve and his life with Tony talking lengths about his life without giving away his identity as a billionaire genius. By the time it was time for him to get back to the tower, Tony really felt a connection with his rescuer."I might come and visit you again." He suggested."I'd like that." Steve smiled, desperately trying not to blush. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Woah, wait, wait, wait!" Natasha demanded the next day when Tony explained his plan, "You realize this involves you doing something nice for someone else without expecting anything back in return. Who are you and where is Tony Stark?" "Well, eventually I'd hope for something in return." He wiggled his eyebrows and plastered a cocky grin across his face, "God, Nat, you should have seen him." "And he's back. You ruined it." Natasha sighed ready to turn away but a strong hand grabbed her arm to stop her. "But seriously, I've never seen someone having to live like this and I want to help anyway I can. But I know he would hate to take money or be a charity case." His dark eyes pleaded for her to help him. She sighed and shook her head, "Jesus, you've got it bad, Stark." The next week he turned up unexpectedly at Steve's apartment with takeout to save the man going hungry for another day. A few days later he gave a lift to the man, who needed to get up to some event he was volunteering for, under the pretext that he had a meeting up that way anyway. He sent him a new phone pretending it was being tested and he wanted his feedback on it. He did everything he could to help him out as subtly as possible. He knew that Steve probably figured it out towards the end but was so grateful and reliant that he accepted anyway. Things only got easier when they officially became a couple as Tony didn't need an excuse to spoil Steve. It improved again when Steve moved in with Stark in the Avengers Tower. Originally, he felt in the way of all their superhero activities but he quickly became integrated and a part of the family.---~Several months later ~They were curled up together on Tony's huge super-king size bed. Feet intertwined and bodies pressed close. Steve had his head resting against his partner's shoulder as his fingers traced patterns along Tony's strong arms. They were simply content."Do you remember how we first met?" Steve sighed.Tony peered down and him, "How could I forget? It was the first time I laid eyes on an Adonis and it was one of the strangest experiences of my life." "I guess it must have been weird for you to wake up in some random bed. Did you really think I had kidnapped you?" Curiosity colored his tone. "Of course. It was my first thought since it had happened before." Steve chuckled. Kidnapping made a whole lot more sense after he got to know who Tony Stark really was. Not just some paranoid weirdo but actually a high profile celebrity with previous experience."I'm glad you crashed on my roof." He leant up to place a kiss on his partner's lips. "Me too." He kissed him back, hot and passionate.Neither had ever dreamt of life being this good.
10606830	Tonsils	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Ray Vecchio, Ma Vecchio, Diefenbaker, Benton Fraser", "Fandom": "due South", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by ExuberantOcean", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-12T00:00:00", "words": "510", "Additional Tags": "episode tag: Letting Go", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Tonsils.When Ray was seven he had his tonsils removed. When he woke, he felt something like this. Tired, foggy, sluggish. He was fairly certain they couldn't have taken them out again.He frowned. His throat didn’t hurt. His shoulder was sore. He slowly opened his eyes.He first saw Diefenbaker sitting tall in a chair opposite of his bed, tongue hanging with out and a canine smile on his face. Glancing slightly to the right, he could see Fraser sitting in his wheelchair fast asleep. His head was resting on Ray’s bed next to his feet. Benny's face was lax and peaceful. He looked surprisingly young and untroubled at his feet, though the apparent vigil belayed that.“You’re up, my baby.” “Hey Ma, I’m not a baby anymore. Cut it out,” Ray turned his head towards the sound of his mother’s voice. She was beaming at him. “You’re always my baby, Raymond, no matter how old.” Ma said as she straightened his blanket. “How do you feel?”Ray eyed his mother for a moment. It was rare that she spoke so quietly. The Vecchio household was always loud, even when he was a kid and his ma's voice yelling over the ruckus was a constant. “Alright Ma.” He squinted at his injured shoulder. It all started coming back. “I was shot.”“The doctor said you’ll recover fully, after a little physical therapy.” Ma Vecchio said.Ray glanced back at Fraser. “Fraser’s okay?”“Yes. You probably saved his life. You’re a real hero, Raymond.”Ray frowned at that. Sure he saved Fraser’s life, but only after nearly ending it. Did the two cancel each other out?Ma Vecchio turned to look at Fraser too. “He wouldn’t leave.” She explained. “Once you were out they allowed him a brief visit but he refused to leave when his time was up. He ended up compromising with the nursing staff. He got to stay as long as he took some painkillers. I think it knocked him right out, poor dear.”“Yeah. Looks it.” Ray yawned himself. Ma gave Fraser a frown. "He looks thinner to me. Does he look thinner to you? Has he been eating well? What is the food like here? I'll make you both some dinners and bring it in."Deif made a little whine. “Don’t you start.” Ray warned. Deif gave him a sad look.“And don’t give me that look.” Ray said, closing his eyes."Food for you too," Ma said to Deif.Ray huffed, then yawned.“Get some sleep.” Ma made a motion like she was about to pat him on the shoulder, but caught herself and fussed with his sheets yet again instead. “You must still be tired from the anesthesia. I’ll be here when you wake up.” She glanced at Fraser. “And in all likelihood, you’re friend will too.”“Alright Ma.” Ray said, already sounding far away. Looking at Benny, fast asleep by his bedside, he somehow knew, for the first time in a month, that everything was going to be alright in the end.
10667097	The One Where Sam Likes	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "James \"Bucky\" Barnes, Sam Wilson (Marvel)", "Fandom": "Marvel Cinematic Universe", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by thefatedthoughtofyou", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-18T00:00:00", "words": "1,479", "Additional Tags": "seriously the stony is like one sentence y'all, sam likes to dance, bucky is a very nervous person, mostly around sam, especially when sam is dancing the way he does in here, Sam dancing for Bucky, nervous Bucky, sambucky - Freeform, Winter Falcon", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "James \"Bucky\" Barnes/Sam Wilson, side relationship - Relationship, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, if you squint", "Series": "SamBucky Ficlets", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Bucky had been watching Sam dance for almost an hour, coincidentally they’d been at the club for about an hour as well. Bucky hadn’t been able to take his eyes off Sam since he’d done some kind of wiggle with his hips. His eyes had been glued to him ever since, Steve had tried to cover Bucky’s eyes once, Bucky had growled and pushed him away. Steve had since moved into a dark booth with Tony, so he really wasn’t one to talk. Bucky took another sip of his drink and then that Bruno Mars song that Sam loved started blaring through the speakers and Bucky knew he was well and truly fucked. He didn’t know just how fucked until Sam spun around and looked at him. He started mouthing the words to the song as he walked toward Bucky.“Baby girl what’s happinin’? You and your ass invited.” Bucky noticed Sam mouthed “boy” instead of girl and felt his knees shake as Sam walked up to him, grabbing his hand gently, pulling him onto the dance floor and winking as he glanced at Bucky’s ass. Yeah, Bucky was so fucked. His palms were already sweating and if Sam expected him to be able to dance to this song, the way Sam had been dancing, the way everyone in this club was dancing, then he had another thing coming.“You got it if you want it, got it, got it if you want it.” Sam was singing along now, out loud. His body moving to the rhythm, his hand moving down his chest like he was telling Bucky exactly what he could got if he wanted it. Bucky would have laughed at the wording in his head, if his brain hadn’t stopped working the moment Sam’s eyes had landed on him. Sam moved closer, Bucky could feel how warm he was from dancing all night, a light sheen of sweat covering his skin as he pressed closer. He moved his hands up Bucky’s arms and tangled his fingers in Bucky’s hair.“Jump in the Cadillac, boy, let’s put some miles on it.” Sam sang, his breath ghosting over Bucky’s neck as he rolled his body, pushing closer to sing in Bucky’s ear. Bucky forced himself to take a breath, his hands wanted to move to Sam’s hips but his brain and his hands weren’t on the same circuit anymore. He was lucky he still remembered how to breathe.“Anything you want, just to put a smile on it.” Sam pulled back, one hand still tangled in Bucky’s hair, the other hand moving his thumb against Bucky’s lips. Bucky moved his tongue out on instinct and he nearly moaned at the taste of Sam’s skin, it was salty and he closed his eyes tight and then opened them again quickly when he felt Sam pull away and the next line of the song filled his ears.“Sex by the fire at night.” It rang through Bucky’s ears as Sam stared at him and dipped his body low before bringing it back up, his hands moving up Bucky’s thighs as Bucky exhaled like he’d been kicked in the chest. Sam pressed close again, swaying his hips and pressing his lips to Bucky’s ear.“Lucky for you that’s what I like, that’s what I like.” Sam whispered, his nails dragging against Bucky’s scalp, Bucky pulled his lip between his teeth and bit down hard, using the sting to hold in the whine that was threatening to push past his lips.“I would never make a promise that I can’t keep, I promise that your smile ain’t gon’ never leave.” Sam belted out as he pulled back, he winked at Bucky and then wiggled his eyebrows at him, smiling big when Bucky choked out a laugh and smiled a little. He moved his thumb gently against Bucky’s cheek. He still hadn’t moved. He was standing stock still as Sam basically used him as a fucking pole, dancing on him like he was fucking born too. Sam didn’t seem to bother by it, he just kept moving and pressing against Bucky. Bucky was pretty sure he was trying to kill him.“You deserve it baby, you deserve it all, and I’m gonna give it to you.” Sam sang, turned and pressed his back against Bucky, moving his hips back into Bucky’s, his hand reaching back and tangling in Bucky’s hair again. Bucky did make a sound now, a high-pitched whine as Sam shoved his ass against Bucky. There was no we he couldn’t feel how hard Bucky was, there was no way. But Bucky didn’t care, the edges of his vision were going hazy. He snapped back to himself when Sam tugged on his hair gently and spun back around. He danced backwards away from Bucky slowly, still moving his hips in a slow motion that could hypnotize a fucking snake. Bucky blinked hard and swallowed harder, wiping his palms against his jeans.“If you want it, boy come and get it, all this is here for you.” Sam licked his lips and moved his hand down his front again, Bucky felt his mouth fall open and saw Sam smirk at him as he swayed back toward him. Sam did another little dip when he got close and the last thing Bucky saw before his vision went black was Sam looking up at him with hooded eyes.~***~“Bucky! Hey!” Bucky hears Sam’s voice drifting though the blackness. He sounds a little scared, Bucky pushed the darkness back and tried to open his eyes.“Come on man. Come back to me.” He hears then, a whisper, Sam’s voice again. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter and then blinks them open slowly. Sam is hovering over him.“What happened?” Bucky groans, trying to sit up. Sam’s hand on his chest presses him gently back down.“You fainted.” He says with a shy smile, Bucky’s pretty sure he’s blushing. Bucky sighs and falls back.“Really? You’re gonna look all cute and shy now? After what you were just doing out there? Typical.” Bucky grumbled, pressing his knuckles into his eyes hard, his head was throbbing.“Did I land on my head?” he asks, squinting up at Sam.“Yes. You think I’m cute?” Sam asked, moving Bucky’s hand away from his head. He was trying to find a bump, Sam wrapped his fingers around Bucky’s wrist and moved Bucky’s hand to rest next to him on the couch he was now laying on.“I thought that was fairly obvious.” Bucky said dismissively.“Where are we?” he asked immediately after, looking around the room, trying to keep his eyes off Sam.“We’re in the back room.” Sam said quickly.“And if it was so obvious why didn’t you do anything about it? Why’d you make me force you to dance, huh?” Sam asked, laughing a little when Bucky grimaced.“First of all, you’d have to force me to dance no matter what, I don’t do that. And I don’t know... I wasn’t sure you liked me back. You did throw a peach at me the other day.” Bucky says, doing his best to shrug while he was laying down.“I told you I was aiming for the trash!” Sam said defensively, throwing his hands up.“Well… you hit me so… you kinda made it.” Bucky said, smirking up at Sam. Sam stared at him for a moment and then snorted. Bucky smiled and closed his eyes.“Hey, open your eyes, don’t fall asleep.” Sam said, jostling his shoulder. Bucky opened his eyes again and looked up at Sam.“So, what happened out there exactly?” Sam asked, his thumb pressing gently into Bucky’s shoulder, he looked worried. Bucky smiled up at him.“I forgot to breathe.” Bucky said, Sam laughed again and then leaned down close to Bucky, so close their noses where almost touching.“Kind of important I guess.” Sam teased, Bucky nodded gently and then Sam was kissing him. Just a sweet simple press of lips and then he was gone, looking down at Bucky again. He moved his fingers along Bucky’s head, moving them through his hair gently as he looked at him.“You’re not trash Buck.” Sam whispered. Bucky blinked at him.“I know.” Bucky paused.“I think.” He said, smiling and poking Sam in the ribs. He laughed again and shook his head.“Nope. I changed my mind. You’re definitely trash.” Sam said, Bucky laughed and pulled Sam close, his hand on his neck.“Hey man, one trash man can be another man’s treasure…or something like that…” Bucky said, trialing off and looking unsure. Sam chuckled and bit his lip, looking down at Bucky with fondness in his eyes.“Yeah,” he breathed.“Something like that.”And then he was kissing Bucky again and the right wording didn’t really seem to matter all that much.
10668402	Cupboards and Cryogenics	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "James \"Bucky\" Barnes, Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, Hydra Agents, Minerva McGonagall, Rubeus Hagrid, Tony Stark, Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Pepper Potts, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Phil Coulson, Alastor \"Mad-Eye\" Moody, Charles Xavier, Logan (X-Men), Steve Rogers, X-Men (Team), Loki (Marvel), Clint Barton, Thor (Marvel), Sirius Black, Background & Cameo Characters, Bruce Banner", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by YodelingProspector", "chapters": "78/78", "completed": "2023-03-10", "published": "2017-04-19T00:00:00", "words": "218,674", "Additional Tags": "Abusive Dursley Family, Bucky Barnes Feels, Protective Bucky Barnes, Harry Needs a Hug, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Confused Bucky Barnes, Abused Harry, Child Harry Potter, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Kid Fic, HP timeline is bumped back, Post-Iron Man 2, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Tony Stark Has a Heart, Families of Choice, Adopted Harry Potter, Parent Bucky Barnes, Protective Tony Stark, The New Fist of Harry, Pre-Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Kidnapping, Mind Control, Professor X Machina, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), Harry Potter was Adopted by Other(s), Xavier Institute, Sirius Black Gets a Trial, Hurt/Comfort, Charles Xavier in a Wheelchair, Winter Soldier Trial, Brainwashed Loki (Marvel), Raising Harry Potter, Fluff and Angst, Team as Family", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "James \"Bucky\" Barnes & Harry Potter, Harry Potter & Tony Stark, James \"Bucky\" Barnes & Tony Stark, James \"Bucky\" Barnes & Logan (X-Men), James \"Bucky\" Barnes & Steve Rogers, Logan (X-Men) & Harry Potter", "Series": "C&C 'verse", "Collections": "My Favorite Harry Potter Works, Harry and Avengers, Best Marvel Crossovers, Best Harry Potter Crossovers, Platinum - HP, Gold - Marvel, My amazing all time favourites., Psychologeek top picks, Family/Parental Avengers fics, Harry Potter Cross-over fics, Quality Avengers Fics, Subscriptions, Bookshelf for Sleepless Nights, This Is Good, I can read this all day, Lady Bibliophile's Collection of Incredible Fanfiction, Harry Potter Is Raised By/Related to One of the Avengers, Rain Recs, Fics that I want to read once they are complete, Harry Potter Salad, The Fields of Elysium, Interesting Books, The Overly Toasted Bagel Collection, Solia's all-time favorites ✨, To remember and cherish, Fantastic Crossovers and where to find them, Harry Potter son / ward of one of the Avengers, Allies_General_MCU, Lyrane’s treasure trove, Favorite Marvel fanfics, Lipid’s Greatest Finds, Harry Potter, Marvel, Irreplaceablegems, Alltimefavorite, Angels Will Read Again, THE 🎵 UBIQ 🦋 ☠ THE 🎭 UNIQUE 🌹, sleep deprivation never bothered me anyway or whatever elsa said, Chibi’s hoard for sleepless nights 🌸, eris' tbr list, ZombieLove's Time Eaters, [The Constellation 'Pineapple' recommends these works of art to you], on temporal travel and transmigration, Favorite Long Harry Potter Crossovers, BestAssetBecomingBuckyBarnesFics, I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you, I wanna read these but am currently in a depressive episode, Found Family Fics That'll Make Your Heart Feel Full", "Fandoms": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The mission is simple. Get the boy, bring him to his handlers, to HYDRA. There are to be no witnesses. The Asset does not remember his last mission, but the idea of not leaving witnesses is as familiar as the action of shooting a gun.At 1824 local time, the Asset arrives at Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, England. He has been out of the cryo tank for the past few days.If the houses did not have numbers on the front doors, there would be no way to tell them apart, since this street, and many others around it, are lined with rows of identical houses. Each house is the same nondescript tan color with a brown roof, and the houses have only a few standard places of entry or exit- the front door and the back door, although the windows would work as a backup. The locks will be pathetically easy to break. Each house also has a perfectly trimmed lawn.The Asset arrives at his destination, Number 4 Privet Drive- the residence of Vernon and Petunia Dursley, the Asset had been told during the mission briefing. There are two boys residing in the house as well, but HYDRA is only interested in one of them. The Dursleys' own son, Dudley, is of no use.HYDRA wants Harry Potter. The Asset does not know what his handlers want with a four-year-old boy, but it is not the Asset's place to know the reason behind his missions. His job is to do as instructed, not ask questions. Asking questions results in punishment, sometimes the chair.It's already dark outside, which makes things easier for the Asset, although the Asset is skilled enough to do this in broad daylight if required. It's easier to go unnoticed in the dark, and that darkness also means Privet Drive is empty of playing children. Most of them are probably eating dinner at the moment, but the Asset's only concern is what the Dursley family is doing.Circling to the back of the house, the Asset finds a concealed spot in the bushes with an optimal view of the kitchen. Just because it is dark does not mean the Asset should stand in the open. The Asset crouches, still and silent in the bush, spying on the residents of Number 4.Mr. Dursley and a boy are seated at the dinner table. Both the man and boy are in horrible physical condition and massively overweight. The boy is blonde, so he must be the Dursley boy, not Potter. The Asset was told in the briefing that the Potter boy has black hair, green eyes, and an unusual, lightning shaped scar on his forehead.There's an even smaller, skinny boy with messy black hair and taped glasses by the stove. That is the target, that is Potter. Potter is so young and short that he requires a step stool to reach the pot that's cooking on the stovetop. The boy's ragged clothes are sized as if they once belonged to the Dursley child and would already be far too big for Potter if he was a healthy weight.The Potter boy is not a healthy weight, but in the opposite extreme of the Dursley patriarch and child. His arms are like sticks waiting to be snapped at any moment.The boy is small and young, not seeming like he could be of any benefit to HYDRA, although the family has clearly tried to find a use for the boy. The Asset does not think HYDRA wants Potter for his culinary skills- or lack thereof, since Potter is struggling at flipping the grilled cheese sandwiches on the pan.Next to the Potter boy is a thin, long-necked woman who is scowling as she watches the tiny child struggle to cook.The Asset's enhanced hearing means he can make out the sounds from the kitchen even though the windows are closed. "Flip it quickly or it will burn!" Mrs. Dursley snaps at the boy, slapping him on the back of the hand with a wooden spoon. Potter lets out a little yelp. "I won't have you messing up my precious Duddy's dinner.""You better not burn anything, boy." Mr. Dursley barks angrily, and Potter flinches in terror. Mr. Dursley seems to enjoy seeing that reaction."I'm hungryyy! Mummy, I wanna eat noooow!" The Dursley boy's whining voice makes the Asset want to shove his fingers in his ears to block out the sound, but doing so would be mission noncompliant. Auditory input is necessary for complete surveillance. "Make him go faster!"Potter quickly moves to serve the grilled cheese to the Dursley boy before going back to the stove and putting a large steak on a plate for Mr. Dursley, along with some potatoes. Mrs. Dursley waits for Potter to serve her and then tells the boy to go stand in the corner.The Asset is reminded of his handlers, even though he is never ordered to serve them food. At least Potter knows how to follow orders. Whatever HYDRA has planned for Potter, compliance will be expected. Failure to comply leads to correction. Potter seems to know that already. The Asset watches the boy hunch his shoulders and scurry to the corner of the kitchen, looking down at the floor.Throughout dinner, Potter is not offered anything to eat despite his obvious lack of nourishment. The Dursley boy, on the other hand, demands several more grilled cheese sandwiches after gluttonously eating the first few.Potter is forced to make the other boy more, but leaves them on the stove for too long, resulting in a burnt odor that the Asset's enhanced olfactory senses pick up.Potter looks terrified as Mr. Dursley lurches angrily towards him. "What did we just tell you not to do, you freak?" He spits the last word like a curse."N... not to b-burn the food." Potter stammers out. "'m sorry, Uncle Vernon, sir.""Sorry doesn't change the fact you burnt it, boy!" Potter's uncle roars as he grabs the boy and presses the Potter's tiny hand into the hot pan, and the familiar smell of burnt flesh invades the Asset's nostrils. Potter screams, and something inside the Asset's chest burns as he watches.The Asset is sure that, whatever this malfunction in his chest is, it will be fixed when he returns to his handlers.Potter is trying to stifle his sobs as Mr. Dursley carries him into the hallway and dumps the boy unceremoniously into a small cupboard under the stairs. He slams the cupboard door shut and stomps back to the kitchen.The way Potter is locked up reminds the Asset of how he is cryogenically frozen between missions. The feeling in the Asset's chest grows stronger.After dinner and dessert- the Dursley boy had thrown a tantrum in order to have both cake and pudding despite having already eaten more than enough, and surprisingly he was not punished- Potter is called out of the cupboard to wash the dishes in the kitchen.Potter obviously is not a master at working through pain yet, neither does he have enhanced healing like the Asset. The boy's burnt hand causes his progress on the dishes to be extremely slow and clumsy, since he has to do everything with his left hand. Potter is clearly worried about dropping something or not working efficiently enough. Of course such an act of carelessness would be punished harshly, the same goes for the Asset. Which is why he will not fail this mission.The Asset can hear Potter's stomach rumble with hunger, but Mrs. Dursley watches the boy like a hawk to make sure he does not swipe any food for later. The Asset does not know when the boy last ate, but he is clearly not given enough sustenance to fuel optimum performance, like the Asset is.Yet the odd feeling in the Asset's chest has only increased as he watches the Dursley's force the injured boy to do chores while the Dursley boy watches some sort of mindless program on a box with a screen in it, guffawing with yet more pudding smeared on his face. At the fact Potter is not even fed.Then it happens. Potter drops a plate, and it shatters on the floor. This leads to Potter's second punishment in the evening.As he watches Dursley beat Potter, where the boy's body had fallen on top of the shards of the broken plate, something briefly flashes through the Asset's mind. A mental image of an older, blonde boy who's not quite as scrawny as Potter, but close, getting beat up in an alleyway by some larger boys. The boy in the mental image looks familiar, even though the Asset has never seen him before. The image is accompanied by the overwhelming need to protect, protect him.Whatever that strange vision, whoever the scrawny blonde boy was, the vision will be gone when the Asset returns to his handlers after completing the mission. Once he's in the chair, it will be gone.The chair always hurts, but the Asset's pain is unimportant.The Asset refocuses on the current target. Negligence and loss of focus are mission noncompliant, and usually punished.As he watches Potter being punished by Dursley for those same offenses, the Asset thinks he may have decided to terminate the Dursley's even if no witnesses was not specified in the mission. It does not make sense that he would think that, when the punishment makes sense itself.Potter is once again discarded in the cupboard under the stairs, and from the way the boy's shirt was staining red, he's sustained some injuries, probably both from the porcelain plate shards and the beating.The Asset could barge in now, choke the life out of Mr. Dursley, but the man's wife or child might make enough noise to alert the neighbors. It will be easier to wait. Make it look like an accident, is part of the mission.The Asset moves only to pull a protein bar out of his backpack pocket and eat it mechanically.At 2221, the majority of Privet Drive is dark and quiet, the residents of the street having gone to bed. The Asset continues to sit silently in the bushes, waiting. By 2248, the last light at Number 4 goes out as Mr. and Mrs. Dursley go to bed.He waits until 2308 to allow the Dursley's to fall asleep, going by the average time it takes. Then, the Asset creeps out of the bush and to the back door of Number 4. Disabling the alarm and picking the lock are not even a challenge, merely a tiny inconvenience. The Asset is capable of breaking into much more secure places than a civilian house. He could have simply broken the door, but that would leave evidence of his breaking and entering, and would probably make enough noise to wake up the house's residents.The interior of Number 4, and of course the Asset does not turn on a light, instead wearing a pair of night vision goggles from his backpack. His booted feet make almost no sound on the tiled kitchen floor. Most people would be clomping around clumsily, loud enough to wake the dead, but the Asset is highly trained. Staying silent is almost as natural as breathing.He walks past the door to the cupboard under the stairs, noticing that is locked. He'll come back for Potter after he's dealt with the Dursley's. He can hear the boy sobbing almost silently in the cupboard, but when the Asset creeps up the stairs, making only the faintest sound on a creaky stair, he hears the boy hold his breath in panic. Of course the boy would hear any sounds on the stairs when he's under them.Upstairs, in the first bedroom, the Asset finds an unoccupied bed and piles of toys, most of which are broken.Is this bedroom Potter's? The Asset turns and walks out of the bedroom. It does not matter, since there is nobody here. That question is not related to the mission.The next bedroom is much like the first, filled to the brim with toys, but the Dursley boy is snoring loudly in the bed.The Asset follows his orders, but something in the back of his mind protests as he slowly smothers the Dursley boy, even though the Asset is fairly certain he's killed children before. Besides, the boy is expendable, only Potter must survive.He then stalks into the bedroom of Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. They are asleep, rather than engaged in other activities. The Asset would not want to see that. His mind does not protest as he simultaneously curls a fist around each of their throats. Their wide-eyed looks of terror and choked pleas mirror Potter's as they slowly stop thrashing.He shuts their eyes so it looks like they're asleep, but they won't wake up again. He leaves their room without glancing back.He can hear Potter's breath hitch as he walks down the stairs. The Asset quickly breaks the lock on the cupboard door and pulls it open, his night vision goggles letting him see inside without turning on a light.Inside the cupboard is a small, stained mattress that is too small to fit any of the bed frames upstairs. There are some shelves lined with various cleaning supplies, a couple broken toy soldiers on the floor, and a headless stuffed bear. There is a bare lightbulb that the Asset does not turn on.Potter is curled in a fetal position on the mattress, staring at the Asset with wide green eyes and clearly trying not to cry. The Asset can see the telltale lightning bolt scar on his forehead now. One of the identifiable features in the mission report. It did not say how Potter got such an odd scar, but that information is not important to the mission.The Asset reaches into the cupboard and pulls the boy out, standing him up and quickly looking him over. There are a few shards of glass embedded in his palms (even the burnt one), and at least one in his side, having punctured his shirt."Stay." The Asset commands in English. He does not usually speak English, but he rarely speaks at all. His handlers mostly use Russian. Turning, he heads to the bathroom in search of a first aid kit. He does not find one in the downstairs bathroom, but the Asset saw a bathroom upstairs."You'll wake up da Dursleys." Potter whispers with scared eyes when the Asset starts to climb the stairs.The Asset doesn't answer, but he knows the Dursleys will not wake. In a cabinet in the upstairs bathroom, he finds what he was looking for. The first aid kit comes complete with bandages, sterile gloves, tweezers, scissors, antiseptic cream, cleansing wipes, and more items that are irrelevant.When he goes back downstairs with the first aid kit, he sees Potter has not moved a centimeter from where the Asset left him outside the cupboard. The boy does not know him and he still follows orders.That trait will serve him well.The Asset guides the boy into the kitchen and removes the boy's shirt, quickly checking to see if there is any more porcelain stuck in his small body.Grabbing one of the boy's hands, the Asset pulls a shard out of Potter's palm with the tweezers. Potter whimpers.The Asset knows what painful healing is like. Whenever his handlers work on his prosthetic arm, there is always a lot of pain.He tries to cause Potter as little pain as possible as he first removes the shards of glass from the boy's palms and side. He cleans the cuts before bandaging them.He then runs Potter's burnt hand under cool water and covers it with a sterile, non-adhesive bandage.Potter stares at the Asset's prosthetic arm and eventually whispers "Are you a robot?" The boy tenses immediately after asking, as if expecting a rebuke for asking. Speaking out of turn would get the Asset at least a slap."No." The Asset says tersely. It is not critical to the mission that he answer the boy's question, but maybe he won't ask more. He was not instructed to slap the boy, so he doesn't. The part of him that protested killing the Dursley boy would have protested slapping Potter, as well.The boy is quiet for a bit longer as the Asset finishes patching him up. He seems almost shocked that someone is bothering to do so. The Dursley's almost certainly hadn't helped him heal.The Asset is not entirely sure why he is. The mission briefing had nothing about patching the boy up, just that he was to remain alive and relatively unharmed. Had his handlers known the boy would be harmed?Delivering the boy in the best condition possible would be the most successful mission outcome. That's why he is doing it.But there's also the thing in the Asset's head saying to protect the boy.Once he finishes picking porcelain out of the boy's side and bandaging it up, he hands Potter his shirt back. It does not matter if his shirt looks like little more than rags, the Asset knows. It is not important.The boy is skinny. He needs to eat. Proper nutrition is required for optimum performance. The Asset ignores the refrigerator- too cold- and instead pulls another protein bar from his backpack and hands it to the boy.Potter stares at him as if he's not sure if this is a trick."Eat." The Asset commands. Potter does not need to be told twice, tearing the paper off and cramming as much of the bar as he can in his mouth.The Dursley boy surely would have refused to eat it and complained about the taste. It is fortunate the Asset does not need to put up with the Dursley boy. At least Potter is well-behaved and knows how to follow orders."Thank you, sir." Potter says softly, probably about treating his injuries, or the food. The Asset says nothing, but it takes him by surprise. He is a weapon. Nobody calls the Asset sir.Potter probably will not be thanking the Asset when he is delivered to HYDRA. The thought makes the Asset frown, but he does not know why. He will have completed his mission."Come," He mutters to the child."I don't haf'to stay here?" Potter asks in a hushed voice, eyes wide with awe."Come." The Asset repeats, trying to ignore the way his stomach twists at the thought of where the boy is headed. There is no reason for his stomach to twist.The Asset does not want the boy to go through what he goes through. The chair, the cryogenic tank. The Asset does not want to go through them himself. No, the Asset is a weapon. The Asset does not have wants. The Asset completes the mission. Not delivering Potter would be failing the mission. Failing the mission would be worse, would lead to punishment.The boy means nothing to him, he is just another mission.Even if Potter goes through a similar fate as the Asset, it is none of the Asset's concern. His young age means nothing. The Asset might have been as young as Potter when he started. He does not remember, has no way of knowing.When the Asset returns to his handlers, these malfunctioning thoughts and feelings will be wiped. They are mission noncompliant.The Asset simply grabs the boy with his flesh arm and holds the boy to his side. Potter stiffens slightly, but does not try to wriggle free. Stopping briefly back at the cupboard, the Asset grabs the boy's taped glasses and puts them on his face. The boy blinks.The Asset does not grab any of the toy soldiers or the bear. They are pointless.He heads to the kitchen, still holding the boy, and fiddles with the stove, setting it to catch fire and explode. Then, he steps out the back door, closing it behind him.The mission is almost complete. It will look like the Dursley's merely perished in a fire. The authorities will probably not know that Potter was even there. The Dursley's made that easy. There were no pictures of Potter in the house, but plenty of the Dursley boy.The house explodes when he's a street away, and lights in houses flicker on around him. The Asset is already keeping in the shadows and he is not spotted as he stealthily moves in the dark, still holding Potter. It takes several minutes before the sirens of fire engines are audible.With every step the Asset takes towards where he will meet his handlers, some malfunctioning part of his brain tells him to turn around and walk the other way. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Severus Snape is not happy when he is woken in the middle of the night by Dumbledore's Floo call. He gives the old coot a glare that would make any first year, and a majority of the upper year students, wet their pants in fright if he used it on them in Potions class, but of course Dumbledore is immune."Severus, I need you to find Harry Potter." Dumbledore's head says from the fire without preamble. "Come to my office."The head disappears from Severus' fireplace, and he quickly Floo's to Dumbledore's office, so quickly that Dumbledore has not even walked back to his desk by the time Severus arrives.Dumbledore's demeanor is grave, when normally he's jovial, and he seems to have aged another fifty years. The usual twinkle in his eyes is so dim that it's almost gone, and for once he does not offer Severus a lemon drop or any other sort of sweet."Why, pray tell, is Potter missing?" Severus questions, scowling. It is the middle of the night, and Potter is not even five years old. He is not some sort of teenager staying out well past curfew, and even if he was, why in Merlin's name would Snape be sent to fetch him?Had the brat simply run away from home, perhaps to punish his guardians after a petty squabble or tantrum? No, that can't be it. Surely Potter is waited on hand and foot by his doting relatives, although breaking rules is definitely nothing new for a Potter."Arabella Figg just called me, frantic, saying the Dursleys' house has exploded." Dumbledore tells him."If Potter was in there, he surely did not survive." Severus says. Which could be very bad, if he really is the one to bring down the Dark Lord as prophesied. Despite what most wizards and witches naively choose to believe, Snape does not think the Dark Lord had been completely defeated that Halloween night."Harry's name is still down for attendance when he turns eleven." Dumbledore answers. Severus gets the message without Dumbledore elaborating further.Potter is still alive, then. If the boy was dead, his name would have been automatically removed from the future attendance list.Had he been sleeping at a friend's house?"With his family dead, the blood wards' protection is no longer effective." Dumbledore tells him gravely. "Harry is no longer safe.""He was not exactly safe in the first place, considering he could have easily been in that house when it blew up." Severus almost cannot believe that Dumbledore has failed to mention that. Perhaps Potter's muggle family let their other idiot child play with firecrackers in the house, or they stupidly left something in the oven. Regardless, there was most likely a severe lack of discipline in that house, and Potter undoubtedly has no regard for rules."Their deaths are a tragedy, but Harry is in danger. Any of Voldemort's followers are theoretically capable of finding him now. You must find him first, Severus."That would still count as one of the Dark Lord's followers finding the boy, since Severus was a Death Eater before, but he does not point this out."Do you have any clue of his whereabouts? Severus asks, scowling, and Dumbledore smiles slightly, although it doesn't reach his eyes. By asking this, Severus has basically agreed to go find the little brat. Not that he could have refused, exactly. Less than three years ago, on that fateful Halloween night, he had sworn to protect the boy in Lily's honor after Lily and Potter were murdered by the Dark Lord.Severus didn't think the oath to protect the bloody child would come into play until another seven years from now. His hopes that Potter would remain out of his sight and mind until arriving at Hogwarts when he turns eleven have been thoroughly crushed as if they were one of Severus' potion ingredients.Severus stalks out of Dumbledore's office, black robes billowing. As he quickly walks through the halls, he transfigures his night robes into appropriate muggle attire, still keeping with his usual color scheme of black.Crossing the grounds of Hogwarts, he reaches the end of the Anti-Apparition wards and apparates to Privet Drive as soon as possible.He arrives on the usually dull, plain street. It is nowhere near ordinary now. Dumbledore's description of Arabella Figg's message is accurate. Number 4 did not simply catch fire and slowly burn, it appears to have actually exploded like an idiot Gryffindor or Hufflepuff's potion.He searches for Potter, growing frustrated when he does not find the brat.The Asset does not slow his stride as he slips from shadow to shadow, avoiding lampposts that would reveal his location. No witnesses. The mission pounds in his head, almost drowning out the sirens that steadily grow louder as fire engines rush to reach the hopeless, smoldering wreck that was once Number 4 Privet Drive, before the Asset blew up the oven.With every step he takes, the new mission- turn away, protect Potter- echo in his head. The new orders were not given by a superior, yet they demand obedience as much as the mission.There is a 10% increase in respiration and heart rate. The Asset cannot follow both orders, they are contradictory to each other.Civilians are looking out their windows, coming out of their houses to see what the explosion was. The Asset stays in the shadows. If nobody sees him, he will not have to kill more witnesses. Less killing makes the mission easier, in multiple ways, some of which the Asset does not understand. He understands that he does not have to hide bodies and evidence the fewer people he kills, but the part of his mind that objected to the Dursley boy's death thinks that there's some other reason. It is unimportant."''s on fiwe." Potter's speech is almost unintelligible through a mouthful of protein bar, although the Asset is pretty sure that young children do not have perfect pronunciation in general. "Why?"The boy is clearly rattled from watching the house explode. Potter knows the rule about not asking questions, since the Dursley's seemed to have had similar rules to the Asset's own handlers, yet Potter still asks."Be quiet." The Asset orders. Potter stiffens slightly in his arms, but the Asset does not correct the boy beyond that. He does not have to slap the child like he would be slapped himself for speaking out of turn.Some civilians are even stepping outside their front doors to see what is going on and confer with their neighbors for more intel. A couple children, standing in doorways with their parents, are echoing Potter's question.An old woman walks out from the house the Asset is currently sneaking past, followed by several cats. The Asset stills, hidden in the shadows. The lady is looking in the opposite direction of the Asset and Potter, distressed at the sight of the fire. She says something about Potter as if she knows him.A white shape darts out the door of the old lady's house, and runs in the Asset's direction. It turns out to be a feline, and the Asset debates punting the creature away, but that would reveal his presence more than the feline staring at him and possibly mewling for the old lady. It rubs against the Asset's booted feet, purring slightly."Snowy." It does not seem like a reference to one of his other codenames, the Winter Soldier. The Soldier figures Snowy is the feline's name, since Potter seems to recognize the animal. The boy once again tenses in the Asset's arms, clearly awaiting punishment for not remaining silent, but the Asset does not deliver the correction.The old lady most likely does not have enhanced hearing, perhaps she's even suffering from hearing loss associated with age. She does not appear to have heard Potter, but it is better for covert movement if the boy remains silent.The feline's purring increases in volume as it continues rub against the Asset's boots, and the old lady turns around, asking "Snowy?"The Asset is already slipping away as the boy says an irrelevant statement about a fig, sounding distressed. The old lady had not noticed them, the Soldier notes. If she had been a witness, the Asset would have failed a mission protocol.The two sets of orders continue to clash.Once he delivers the boy, he will be wiped, frozen and stored away until his next mission.The sirens are getting closer, and the boy does not seem to like the sound. He wriggles in the Asset's arms and whines.The Asset does not stick around for the fire engines to arrive, with their flashing lights that could compromise his concealment in the night. He slips down a street that is not as awake at the moment as the streets surrounding Privet Drive.Two escorts are waiting for the Asset in a car. They are not the usual handlers, but they are still to be obeyed. The man in the driver's seat is drumming his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently, but they both get out when they see the Asset approaching with Potter.The Soldier straightens, standing at attention in front of his superiors."Took 'em long enough." One of the escorts mutters to the other. The Asset is used to being talked to as if he is not there. One does not talk to a weapon such as the Asset, except during mission briefings and debriefings.There was not a specified time limit for mission completion in the briefing, but perhaps the Soldier will be punished for 'taking long enough'. If he had gone into the house upon arrival rather than waiting for the street to fall asleep, he would have returned with Potter hours ago, possibly as early as 1840 instead of the current time of 2336.Potter gives a whine and stares at the escorts with wide, frightened green eyes, shoving some of his fingers in his mouth. He looks like he wishes he could turn invisible so the escorts will stop looking at him."Mission report." One of the escorts orders, looking at Potter instead of the Asset, as if to make sure Potter is the right child. The Asset would not make a mistake and bring the wrong one."Target Harry James Potter acquired with no injury inflicted by the Asset. Injury was inflicted on the target by Vernon Dursley and a broken plate." The Asset recites, tonelessly as always. "The Asset successfully terminated the Dursley's and left no evidence. There were no witnesses. Mission was completed according to instructions.""Status." The second escort has a bored tone and picks at his nails."The Weapon is functioning within operable parameters." The Asset replies, because that is what it is. A weapon. "There is a malfunctioning in the chest: unidentified cause.""What kind of malfunctioning?" The first escort asks, and mutters that the Asset cannot get heart attacks. He is correct about that, the Asset's enhanced body is not susceptible to heart problems."Heat." The Asset answers. "It is gone now."The escorts share a look that seems almost worried. When the Soldier follows up by reporting that it is malfunctioning by having the vision of an unknown skinny blonde man, the worried, displeased demeanor of the escorts only increases. Weapons are not supposed to have visions. Will it be punished?"It will go away when you are in the chair. You will be fixed." One tells the Asset. Visions are hinderances to the mission. The chair is required for optimum mission performance."Hand over the child." The first commands. Potter whimpers slightly and tries to clutch the Asset's shirt with his bandaged hands, dropping the rest of the protein bar on the ground and hiding his face against the Soldier's flesh shoulder. Potter had only eaten half of the offered rations.The Soldier does not let go of Potter. The voice in the back of its head, the one that had told it to turn away, had protested killing the Dursley boy, is screaming orders to not hand Potter over.Perhaps the voice in the head will be gone, too, after the chair, along with the feeling in the chest. Both are mission noncompliant.Deliver Harry Potter. No witnesses. Those are the orders, that is the mission. The mission does not involve turning around or walking away, or continuing to hold the boy despite instructions from superiors to hand him over.The new orders in the Soldier's brain did not come from its handlers. The Asset ignores them, it does not turn away from its superiors, no matter what the head says.The true mission is delivering Potter, but part of the brain protests.The mission echos in his head, demanding obedience. Deliver Harry Potter."Soldier, comply." The first escort orders in a harsher tone than before. COMPLY. COMPLETE THE MISSION. "Give me Potter. Now."The Soldier's sole purpose in existence is to complete any assignment it is given, to obey any order. It was created for that purpose, and is useless if it does not obey. Failure results in correction.Yet the Soldier's arms do not move. It continues to hold the child, delivering Potter is the true mission.The Asset is malfunctioning, obeying false orders instead of the true ones given by its superiors. Respiration and heartbeat increase another 5%.One of the escorts delivers a backhand to the face forceful enough to snap the Soldier's head to the side, but the Soldier does not react otherwise. Potter is yanked from the Asset's arms.The child, already stressed, starts to squirm and cry. The lamppost on the other side of the street explodes with a shower of sparks. The Soldier's arm whirs. Functionality of the arm is decreased by 2%, but it does not impede movement.The child is screaming now, a high, shrill sound that mixes with the sirens a few streets away on Privet Drive. It makes the chest malfunction again."Shit, he's going to attract attention." One escort grumbles, and clamps a hand over the boy's mouth, effectively cutting off his cries. Potter's eyes are even more scared, and tears stream down Potter's cheeks.Chest malfunctioning increases by 4%. The unofficial order, PROTECT, screeches in the Asset's brain."Get in," The car door is opened and the unofficial orders protest, the Soldier hesitates. It is shoved in, and Potter is thrust into the Soldier's lap. New orders are given, keep Potter quiet and secured.One way to silence is to cut off oxygen with a hand around the throat. Instead, the Asset covers Potter's mouth with its flesh hand, and does not squeeze. The child is already silent, there is no need for corrective pain or fear like the escorts had given the boy. The boy sobs spasmodically, face streaked with tears and snot that soon cover the Soldier's flesh hand. Mucus would impede with the prosthesis if it got between the metal plates or into the servos.As the escorts slam the rear door shut, the Soldier only thinks of how it failed the unofficial mission, even though it completed the official one.Potter is not anywhere near Number 4, and Severus goes to find Arabella Figg. She has a snowy white cat in her arms and meets Severus halfway between her house and the ruined Dursley residence.Her job has been to watch over Potter the past years. She reports that she had not seen Potter since yesterday, but she saw the Dursley's son, Dudley, and Petunia at the play park earlier today. She tells Severus that Petunia said Potter was sick when she asked where he was.Perhaps he was, but August is hardly the time for colds. And why would Potter have been out of the house tonight if he was sick?He really hopes that the boy, now that he doesn't have any living family, isn't going to come live at Hogwarts. Severus doesn't have to put up with the brat for what should have been almost seven Potter-free years.He is just asking Arabella where the last few places the brat had been are when the unmistakable scream of a child fills the air, coming from another street. Severus sees the streetlights flicker and die, as if blown up by accidental magic. Potter. Snape sprints to the other street in time to see a man shove Potter into the back of a car and slam the door shut while another man starts to climb into the front passenger seat on the left.Had these men taken Potter from his home before the explosion, perhaps blown the house up on purpose? It's a lot more plausible than Potter playing on the play park across the street and the men just happening to abduct a random child.With four quick flicks of his wand and a silent Reducto, Severus blows up all the car's tires, assuring that it will not be going anywhere. The two men whirl around, producing guns from their belts.Obviously the two men are Muggles, not Death Eaters, which is a bit of a relief. But why are muggles kidnapping Harry Potter? Do they know who he is, or is it just a coincidence? The house blowing up doesn't seem like a coincidence, especially when it turns out Potter was being kidnapped.Regardless, now is not the time to be pondering this.Severus casts Expelliarmus on them both, and they two men look shocked when the guns fly out their hands. Before they can attempt to grab their weapons again, Severus hits them both with Petrificus Totalus. Their bodies go rigid and fall to the street.That was almost pathetically easy.He stalks towards the car, wand still drawn even though the two men are immobilized. Something- no, someone, someone who is much to large to be Potter- throws open the door and leaps from the interior of the vehicle with incredible speed.Before Severus can react, he finds himself pinned to the ground with a rather metallic hand wrapped around his throat. The moonlight glints off a knife blade poised above him.Severus apparates from under the man to the other side of the street where the play park is, quickly firing Expelliarmus at the attacker, who he now notes is a man with long, dark brown hair, a scruffy face, and goggles. But the most noticeable thing about the man is the silver, metallic armor on his left arm that almost shines in the moonlight.The man is currently shutting the car door, trapping Potter inside, and but does not take his attention from Severus. He does even not react with surprise at Severus' apparition, but briefly glances down at the two petrified men as if awaiting orders.Still, he dodges Severus' spell almost instinctively, again much too quickly for a person. The third kidnapper is not nearly as easy to take out as the first two. He adjusts to the fact that Severus is now far away by tucking away his knife and drawing a gun in one fluid motion. Severus only barely has time to conjure a shield as the man aims and fires with astounding speed and precision.Unlike most guns, this one apparently does not have a loud gunshot. Severus barely hears the weapon fire, his own apparition actually sounds more like a gunshot than the gun. Have Muggles invented ways to keep guns silent?The man continues to stalk towards Severus like a predatory beast, firing a few more bullets in an obvious attempt to weaken Severus' shield while perhaps unintentionally preventing Severus from apparating away or disarming the man with Expelliarmus, like he had with the other two men outside the car. Or the man might be preventing Severus from doing anything but conjure a shield on purpose, since he seems extremely adept at switching tactics at a moment's notice.He seems more like a highly trained assassin than a standard kidnapper.The man continues to shoot with his right arm. The plates on the armor of his left arm shift in an almost rippling fashion, and the Potions Master realizes it's not armor at all- it's some sort of advanced prosthesis.The gun clicks as if it needs to be reloaded, and Severus takes the opportunity to lower his shield and cast Expelliarmus, but the man's metal arm shoots up and the spell actually ricochets off, flying harmlessly into the night sky, so he still has the gun.That complicates matters, Severus thinks as the man finishes reloading his gun before he can even fire off another spell.This time, the man rushes Severus with a knife while simultaneously shooting, and he quickly whirls around when the wizard apparates, not even giving Severus a chance to take him by surprise.Who is this man? He's clearly a muggle, but he's more than a match for a highly skilled duelist like Severus. Snape almost would like to see the Dark Lord face off against this man. The Dark Lord would hate potentially losing to a muggle.Hopefully Snape doesn't meet that fate.Perhaps Incendio will take care of the metal arm, Severus hopes. Again, the man dodges the spell, but only barely this time. It singes his long hair.When Severus casts it again, the man doesn't even let it touch his arm, instead ripping a swing off the swing set and using it as a shield. The next moment, the flaming swing seat is flying towards the Potion Master's head, and the man charges at him, obviously trying to get up close and personal, something most wizards do not do. Severus only just apparates away.When Severus finally manages to hit the man with Stupefy, the actual armor- which looks nothing like the suits of armor at the castle and instead looks more like a thick cloth vest- takes the impact and the man doesn't even falter for a second, drawing his gun again. Severus throws up another Protego.With the prosthetic arm, the man somehow rips a teeter-totter out of the ground and swings it like a club at Severus, essentially attacking him in two ways simultaneously.Severus has no choice but to extinguish his shield and apparate away, even as the man squeezes off another shot, which thankfully doesn't hit him. The Potions Master reappears right behind the man, hoping to catch him by surprise.The crack of apparating gives Severus away and the man whirls around, grabbing him in another chokehold and hurling him across the play park, hard enough that Severus actually dents a metal slide.Being a wizard does not mean one cannot be stunned from physical injury, and before Severus can recover, the mysterious man delivers a blow to the side of his head with a metal fist, and Severus' world goes black. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The mission should have been simple. It had almost been complete, at least the Soldier's part of it. All it had left to do was keep Potter quiet in the back of the car, the last orders it had been given, as the escorts did their job.The attacker has set the mission back by immobilizing the escorts and blowing out the car tires. The Asset had delivered the boy to the escorts, but now the escorts are stiff and useless, no longer capable of driving him back to the airport and flying him back to the HYDRA base.The Soldier looks at the limp form of the attacker it had just knocked out, making sure he is completely neutralized and will not wake up for a while. The attacker has long, greasy dark hair and black clothes.The escorts had not explicitly ordered him to fight the attacker once he had taken them out, but it had not been necessary. The Soldier could not let the attacker take Potter as it seemed he'd been planning to do.The enemy asset had been a unique opponent with abilities and a weapon the Asset has not encountered before. Perhaps he is an asset for the enemy.The Asset had defeated his opponent. Losing would have been mission-noncompliant and punished.The odd, weaponized stick has fallen from the man's limp hand. The Asset quickly frisks the unconscious attacker, but finds no other weapons or any source of identification. All the man has is the weaponized stick. With it, the enemy asset had been able to project shields powerful enough to stop the Asset's bullets, and had shot out various energy blasts that the Asset had been able to dodge with its enhanced speed. Most people would have been unable to dodge greater than or equal to 90% of the man's attacks.Some of the energy blasts the weaponized stick shot had set things on fire. The man had tried to burn the Asset's prosthesis, so he had not let those hit him like the one that was deflected off his prosthesis. The Asset had been sloppy in dodging and one blast had singed some hair, but otherwise no damage was sustained during the battle.The man had been limited by only being able to perform one action with the weapon at once, and by having only one weapon in the first place. The Soldier had taken advantage of each limitation, as always.The Soldier's metal hand hovers over the weaponized stick, which currently looks quite harmless. He does not know if the weapon will go off if picked up, nor does he know the extent of its capabilities.HYDRA would most likely like to know about this new weapon.The stick could prove useful. The Asset cannot teleport or make guns fly out of opponents' hands and petrify opponents like the attacker had with the weapon. It's as if the man was some sort of wizard with a wand, but both are fictional.The Asset carefully picks it up, making sure to point it away from any body parts. The weapon does not shoot out any energy now, seems to be no more than an ornate stick.Heading back to the car, he checks on the escorts. They have not moved since falling to the street. The escorts' bodies are frozen and rigid as if in cryostasis, like the Asset between missions, except the escorts' temperatures are still around the average of 37 degrees celsius, and their eyes are open and moving, indicating consciousness.The Asset does not know how to reverse the effects of whatever the energy blast had done to immobilize his escorts, but he does not try to wave the weaponized stick to counteract their paralysis.The escorts are now useless to the mission. The Asset will be punished for that, even though it was the rival asset who took them out.The escorts' mouths are shut, preventing speech and rendering them incapable of providing further orders or corrective punishment.It is up to the Asset to bring the boy to the base now. It should not be too difficult.It would not be difficult, if the Asset was functioning properly. He is not.The unofficial orders in the malfunctioning brain command him to do just that, trying to reset the mission. The escorts can not stop it like they had before. The voice in the head giving the new orders will not be quiet.The voice is jeopardizing the mission.Deliver the boy. The Asset thinks. That is the true mission.The car is also useless with its tires blown. There are spare tires, but it would take too long to change them, and the man he'd just fought might have backup or other agents of his own. The Asset will not stick around here to find out.Seeing the car in the middle of the darkened road brings forth another vision, of sniping a car so it crashes on the side of a different abandoned street in the night. Of wrapping a hand around the woman's throat, cutting off her choked pleas as she sat in horror over her dead husband.The dead man in the vision seems familiar, as if the Asset had seen him before being ordered to kill him. The Asset thinks that was a previous mission as he remembers grabbing a case from the trunk of that car.The vision fades, leaving the Asset standing in the middle of Magnolia Crescent.Past missions are irrelevant. The only mission that matters is the current one. Potter.The Asset grabs the backpack from where he'd dropped it in the street to increase mobility during the fight and slips the stick into one of the side pockets. Right now, it seems to be just a stick instead of a weapon. Perhaps it was calibrated so only the man he'd just fought can use it, in which case it might be useless to his handlers unless they can modify it like they modify him.His handlers might not be as mad about the escorts being petrified if he delivers another weapon, in addition to himself and the boy. The Asset will still be punished, of course, but it might be less severe.After putting on the backpack, he opens the car door to grab the boy, and is immediately hit with the unpleasant new smell of urine, plus the lingering scents of burnt flesh, blood, and antiseptic from earlier. The Asset wants to yank his nose off and throw it away, because enhanced olfactory senses are not advantageous in this situation, or when he is being operated on.Potter is not sitting in the backseat, but rather wedged on the floor where the rear passengers' feet go, pressed up against the door farthest away from the play park where the battle took place. The child's body is shaking almost as much as the Asset's does when first being unfrozen from cryo, only it for Potter it seems to be out of fear instead of the aftereffects of being frozen. The boy's respiration has increased by 6.2% from when the Asset held him briefly in the car, before the attacker showed up and the fight started, and it had already been 9% higher than average from the escorts handling him.The Soldier leans into the car to grab Potter from the foot space, and the child lets out a terrified whimper, trying to curl into an even smaller ball on the car floor."'m sorry, sir!" The boy blurts as the Asset hoicks him up and prepares to settle the child against his hip. Apologizing is completely useless, a waste of breath- it hadn't worked on the boy's uncle, nor does it work on handlers. The boy still tries, for some reason. "I'm s-sorry."The boy is not supposed to talk. The escorts ordered the Soldier to keep him quiet and still when handing him the child in the car. They are incapacitated, yet conscious.The unpleasant new odor gross stronger when the Soldier brings Potter closer. The boy's tattered, stained shirt, which reaches his knees, has a dark spot from where it soaked through both the shirt and the shorts underneath.Urinating in one's pants is not against mission protocol and does not require correction, even if it smells disgusting. But the handlers will be angry at the child if he constantly makes a mess, and will most likely punish him. It is not the boy's fault."Are you incontinent?" He asks the boy. That could be important intel to report.Potter just stares uncomprehendingly."Do you know how to properly relieve yourself?" The Asset waits expectantly. Potter is clearly trying to work out an answer that will let him avoid punishment."Sorry, sir! I t-tried to hold it but I... hadda go to da bafroom." Potter does not directly answer the question, does not even seem to know what the question meant. "I only went b'fore dinner an' I c-couldn't hold it..." Before the dinner the boy had been forced to make yet had not been allowed to eat. That means the boy had not relieved himself since at least 1824 when the Asset first started surveying the house. It is now 2354.Of course, the Asset has not relieved himself in those 5.5 hours either, but Potter is small and has an equally small bladder. The Soldier is fairly certain that Mr. Dursley would not have been happy had Potter urinated in the cupboard."Don't hit me, p-please, sir." Potter is sobbing again, although it sounds like he does not expect his plea about avoiding punishment to be granted. "I didn't mean to!Not only is the boy is extremely emotional- emotions interfere with performance, any emotion is corrected by handlers or the chair- but Potter also seems to constantly leak unpleasant substances from various orifices. Earlier, he'd smeared the Soldier's flesh hand with tears and snot, the boy's shirt is crusty with dried mucus, as well as the spot of urine.The Asset continues with the mission before he can malfunction more.He takes the guns that the attacker had made fly out of the escorts' hands earlier. The escorts have no use for them when they're lying on the pavement stiff as logs.He also grabs the half of the protein bar the boy had dropped on the ground. The Soldier has been taught not to waste food. While the Asset is fed adequately during missions to ensure optimum functioning, food is often withheld by handlers as a corrective measure during training and recalibration. They decide everything about his eating at the base, including if he eats at all.The street is unhygienic and the boy's malnourished immune system is most likely weak, so instead the Asset shoves the remainder of the bar into his pocket to eat later, himself. His immune system can handle germs.Then, they are on the move. The Asset jogs with Potter in his arms although most people are too slow to consider the pace is is moving at 'jogging'.After 1.74 minutes of jogging, Potter makes a retching sound. The Soldier manages to turn him away before he regurgitates on the Soldier's kevlar vest. Bile and the meager contents of the boy's stomach splatter on Potter's bare feet and the ground. Potter's tiny frame shakes and the boy uses his shirt- which is already crusty with mucus from his crying and has small spots of dried blood on it from cuts caused by the plate shards- to wipe bile from his mouth.The boy must be in good condition when he is delivered to the handlers. The shirt had been big on Potter when the Asset had first seen him, but it had been relatively clean. Now it is filthy and odorous, covered in urine, mucus, tears, blood and bile.The handlers will not want a disgustingly smelly child.The Soldier has not been cleaned since he was hosed off with a jet of cold water after being removed from the cryo tank 52.4 hours ago, but he has remained clean on this mission, even after the battle and hiding in a bush.New mission sub-objective: acquire cleaner clothes for the boy that do not smell like urine and bile. In retrospect, he should have grabbed from some the Dursley residence before blowing it up, but he did not think it would be necessary. He did not know Potter was going to urinate."Please, don't send me back to Uncle Vernon an' Aunt Tuna!" The boy's voice is even more fearful and quiet than before."We are not going there." The Soldier tells him. That is both impossible and mission noncompliant."Really?" The boy makes it sound like it's too good to be true, as if he hadn't seen the house explode. The Asset does not answer, Potter should not need clarification. The handlers do not expect to have to repeat orders. The boy will have to listen and obey the first time, like he had when the Asset observed him with the Dursley's."Why?" The boy asks after 4 seconds of silence from the Asset, and Potter hastens to add "Sir?". The boy still tenses more in his arms, expecting punishment for the question."You are the mission." He replies."But... I'm not missin', I'm right here." Potter clearly does not understand."My mission is to deliver you to my handlers." The Asset states. "The mission will be completed."Once he completes the mission, he will be wiped and the malfunctions will be fixed.What HYDRA wants with Potter is not his concern. The Dursley's are not influential, there is no way Potter is a political prisoner. But there is not much use for such a small child. If they subject the child to painful medical experimentation, it should not matter.The boy is small and unhealthy. What if HYDRA does not feed him properly? Surely they do not want the boy just to starve him.The boy has already experienced correction by starvation at the hands of the Dursley's, as well as slaps and beatings. HYDRA will just be more severe. The Asset's chest should not have malfunctioned when watching the Dursley's, it should not be doing so now as he thinks this.It does not matter. The boy should not matter. He is a mission, that is all. If the Soldier is ordered to kill the boy, he will do so.The new mission protests him thinking that, throbbing in his head. Protect. It brings up an image of the scrawny blonde boy in an alleyway again, older and with a black eye. The Soldier growls slightly, the image gives him the urging need to protect. He is a weapon, meant to kill. He does not act as protection detail unless ordered to, which he does not remember ever happening.He is malfunctioning again, with more visions and unexplained pains in his chest and stomach. Something is wrong with him.He'd malfunctioned when the voice told him to turn and take Potter away, and when he had not handed Potter to the escort as ordered. He needs the chair, then the malfunctions will be fixed. The thought of the chair increases respiration and heart rate by 6%. He is not anywhere near the chair.The unofficial mission's voice has gotten stronger, since the escorts have been immobilized, leaving the Asset alone to deliver the boy. The Asset could walk away without being stopped.Deliver Potter. Then it will be over."You're big an' strong an' dark... like Batman." The boy sighs tiredly and fiddles with a bit of the Asset's long hair. "You helped and heroes help so I think..." The sentence is interrupted by a yawn. "...maybe you're Batman.""Batman is not an authorized designation for the Winter Soldier." The Asset tells him flatly. Potter ignores that comment entirely."Sol-ders fight and don't let bad guys hurt people." Potter mumbles. "You didn't let 'em hurt me." It is unclear if he means the Dursley's, the escorts or the enemy asset who the Asset had defeated. Perhaps all of them, but Potter does not know about the Dursleys' demise.The escorts had not been incapacitated for Potter's sake at all, despite what the boy seems to think. The Asset had still been in the backseat with Potter when it happened- does he know it was the attacker who did it? If the mission went according to plan, the escorts would be driving them back to the plane right now."You are not supposed to be talking." He mutters to the child, who flinches. "Go to sleep."The Asset can be ordered to sleep on command, but he is fairly certain children are not the same way. The Dursley boy had proven this by putting up a huge fight about going to bed, and Mrs. Dursley had catered to her son's every whim and allowed him to stay up until he fell asleep watching mindless programs on the screen. Something in the Asset's brain tells him that this is abnormal for parents. Petunia had been Potter's handler but the Dursley boy's mother. Certainly handlers would never behave as Petunia Dursley had to her son, but she had treated Potter as a handler would.The local time is 0016. The boy's adrenaline rush from the night's events seems to be wearing down finally.As the Soldier walks, Potter falls asleep in his arms, the side of his small face resting against the metal shoulder, glasses askew on the boy's face.First task: complete mission sub-objective of making Potter presentable.At 0039 the Asset finds a store called Tesco with a parking lot that is empty but lit up. He does not walk through the lit space, instead staying in the shadows until he is as close as possible to the store.Breaking into the store is only slightly more work than breaking into Number 4 Privet Drive had been, partly because he is holding a sleeping little boy. There are security cameras, but he disables them, destroying the evidence. Just like in the Dursley residence, the Soldier wears his night vision goggles instead of turning on a light and alerting any outsiders to his presence.Threat assessment of the Tesco store: low. Lower than even the Dursley residence. There is nobody here who might be awoken aside from Potter. It is too early in the morning for trucks to start bringing produce or other goods. Even if someone does happen to find them here, the Asset will easily be able to handle them.The carts have seats designed for children near the handles. The Asset plops Potter in one and wheels it past darkened aisles.There are signs stating what is in each aisle. The Tesco store has more than just clothes, which is what he came for. For some reason, he didn't think stores carried so much stuff. It has food on one side, electronics and irrelevant things such as toys and books on another, clothes and household decorations and appliances in the middle.The unofficial mission notes that it would be easy to obtain a lot of supplies that would make it easy to survive if he slipped away. The only thing he wouldn't be able to get is ammo for his guns. It tells him to take advantage of the supplies, grab food, take the boy far away.What is wrong with him? He has never had a voice trying to change the mission before. Is it because he's been out of cryo for too long? That he needs the chair? Neither are an option right now.The Asset forces himself to ignore the voice in his head and continues past the food, clenching his fists hard enough that the metal hand crushes the part of the cart handle it's wrapped around as he heads towards the footwear aisles. The boy is barefoot at the moment.Choosing footwear temporarily distracts the Soldier from the missions battling in his head, although the prices (which he automatically tries to convert to American Dollars in his head for some reason) are obscenely high. One pair of toddler shoes is more than a month's rent money. Why did he think that? He does not pay rent.Whoever thought to equip toddler shoes with lights that flash with every step probably did not have to worry about covert movement and avoiding detection, about there being no witnesses. Also they were a moron. The Asset does not choose light up shoes, and is glad that Potter is not awake to whine for them. Not that whining would do the boy any good.In the end, the Soldier chooses waterproof "Wellington" boots for the boy, without any laces. This way if the boy regurgitates again, they will be easier to clean. The ones on display are, inconveniently, not the right size for the boy, so he has to hunt through the shoeboxes to find a pair that fits.In the children's clothing section, the Asset grabs a shirt (not the shirt with the stupid-looking anthropomorphic blue locomotive on it) and holds it up to Potter for size. He discovers that Potter, despite having turned four under a month ago according to the mission briefing, is 11.5% smaller than the clothes designed for boys his age. The clothes designed for two or three-year-olds are more Potter's size.Potter should not be so small. He is probably 6 kg lighter than his cousin had been, which at his age is a dangerously significant amount.The Soldier finds a couple shirts without pictures, all of which appear green due to the night vision goggles, and throws them in the cart, along with pants, socks, and underwear. They apparently do not make plain toddler underwear, everything has some sort of pointless design or cartoon. He really hopes Potter knows how to properly relieve himself, but if not, there is an aisle with diapers.Potter continues to sleep as the Asset pulls off the disgusting, large shirt and slips a new plain one over the boy's head of wild raven hair, maneuvering the boy's limp, skinny arms through the sleeves. For the pants, he has to lift Potter out of the shopping cart seat.With the amount of fluids the boy leaks through his nose and eyes and how disgusting his shirt became, the Soldier considers finding a waterproof jacket for the boy.Hunting through the racks of clothes, he finds one, but does not put it on the boy right now.Mission sub-objective complete.There is no reason for him to grab a hooded jacket from the men's section and slip it on, but the new mission's voice told him to. There is no reason to cover his prosthesis or hair, he should not disguise himself from his handlers. This is not part of the official mission.As he starts to head towards the exit, pushing the cart past aisles of processed food, the new mission screeches orders to grab supplies. He malfunctions even more, turns the cart into an aisle with canned soup.He knows he is malfunctioning, but he still puts cans of soup in his backpack. Mission sub-objective of the new mission is also complete. He should not be completing the new mission. It was not assigned by his handlers, it is contrary to the mission.He is broken, he thinks again as he adds granola bars and bottled water to the stash in his backpack.He grabs some juice for Potter, because the boy needs something after emptying his stomach. He is not sure if Potter had regurgitated because he could not handle the solid protein bar, so he will try liquids. The juice has nutrients, if not many calories.Potter's sleep becomes fitful. He wriggles around, crying and making small, fearful noises of protest. He wakes with a gasp, tiny hand rubbing not his eyes but his forehead where the odd lightning bolt scar is. The boy gasps for breath in a way that is vaguely familiar to the Soldier although he has no idea why. The current respiratory problems are likely a result of fear, not asthma, although asthma is extremely familiar in his brain. But the Soldier does not know anybody with asthma.Unlike the Soldier with his night vision goggles, Potter cannot see in the dark. He makes small, confused noises as he continues to shiver in fear, face again leaking tears. His knuckles are pressed into his mouth to stifle his sobs while he continues rubbing his scar as if it hurts. Had he sustained any damage to the area from Dursley's beating? That could affect his usefulness for HYDRA.Potter is surprisingly quiet for a child who just had a nightmare, the Asset thinks, although he does not know how he knows this. Most children would scream and cry noisily.The Asset looks at his backpack, stuffed with non-perishable food. This is not the mission. The mission does not require this much food, even now that he needs to make the trip back to the base without his escorts.When he turns around, the sees that the boy is about to wipe his eyes and nose on the collar of the new shirt."Stop." The Soldier tells him. The child stills at the command, eyes wide and worried. "I do not want to change you again."The child wipes his nose and eyes on the back of his hand instead of his shirt. Still disgusting, but he had followed orders.Does the Asset have to give the child a bath? Will HYDRA simply hose Potter off as they do with him?Potter reaches out blindly, blinking owlishly in the dark."... My strong sol-der man...?" The child murmurs hesitantly, as if he's not sure if he'd simply dreamed about the Soldier or not. Potter had used an incorrect pronoun. He is not a handler, therefore he cannot claim ownership of the Soldier. The boy sounds almost hopeful that the Soldier is there."I am not your Asset." The Asset corrects."A'set." Potter murmurs, smiling slightly when he hears the Asset's voice. This is new. He is merely a weapon, his targets certainly do not smile and neither do his handlers, not even when he successfully completes a mission. But Potter smiles, and has also called him sir. The child is strange. "A'set.""You need to keep your clothes clean. You should be in the best condition possible when delivered to the handlers."Grabbing the waterproof jacket from the cart, he starts to dress Potter."Wha?" Potter murmurs. "Not Dudley's..." The child voices his dawning realization that he's wearing different clothes, including boots. Distressed, he tries to shift around enough in the cart seat to remove the boots, but the handle is getting in the way.He almost seems scared of the clothes. What can be distressing about clothes?"Leave them on." The Asset orders."But Aunt Tuna says freaks don't d'serve new clothes." The boy makes a desperate attempt to pull off a boot. Potter seems unable to fully comprehend the notion of wearing clothes that did not once belong to the Dursley boy, of wearing clothes that actually fit him. "Freaks are un-g'ateful. Freaks ruin new things.""Do not remove them." The Asset repeats. At least with Potter in the waterproof coat, the Asset does not need to worry as much about mucus getting on the boy's clothes.37 seconds later, one of the "Wellington" boots hits the floor, having been kicked off. Potter seems to be malfunctioning, like the Asset, because he does not follow the orders.The Asset bends down, slips it back on the boy's foot. He pokes a straw in a juice box and hands it to Potter. The boy looks at him in confusion, saying that juice is "only for Dudley" and that he himself only gets water when he's good.The Asset orders him to drink it anyways, and Potter almost suspiciously puts the straw in his mouth.He leaves the store at 0123 with his backpack and a few extra bags full of food and other supplies he is not authorized to have, and plans on stealing a car.He chooses an car at a house with toys in the yard, because there is a car seat for small children in the back. Children are supposed to be in such seats when they are young, it optimizes safety.Breaking into the car is simple, and Potter is limp enough that he does not protest being strapped into the child car seat. The seat does not look nearly as uncomfortable as the chair the Asset is subjected to.The Asset knows how to hot-wire vehicles, and by 0140 he has successfully pulled the car out of the family's driveway.The airport where the plane is at is only another seventeen minutes away.Deliver Potter. The mission tells him as he drives to the airport.Drive far away. The voice in the brain, the one he had started brokenly following in the food aisles, counters the official orders. Do not return to the base.His world is no longer as simple as following orders, because now there are two voices giving orders in his head, clashing with each other.He realizes he's turned down a street that does not lead to the airport.The Asset scowls and slams on the breaks, trying not to crush the steering wheel in his fists. The voice in his brain giving the unofficial orders needs to be silent and let him complete the mission in peace. He needs to turn around and go to the airport.He needs major maintenance. He needs to be wiped. The chair will almost be a relief, because then there will be no more clashing orders. Everything will be as it should be.But if he continues malfunctioning and following the false orders, he might not manage to complete the mission. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- When Severus comes to, his whole body aches with numerous pains and his mind throbs horribly in his skull. He'd much rather still be out of it right now.The pain isn't as intense as the Cruciatus Curse, but Severus has physical injuries at the moment. There's a lump in the back of his head and his body is heavily bruised, especially his throat.The memories flood back quickly. He's still laying on the dented slide that the long-haired man with the metal prosthetic arm had thrown him into. Severus' own body had been the thing to dent the metal slide, and there are a couple sharp parts poking into his body.The boy. Potter. Where is he? Obviously, the muggles were kidnapping him, but for what purpose? Do they know how important he is to the wizarding world? The vast majority of muggles don't know about magic, of course, but it seems more than a little coincidental that they were going for the Boy Who Lived.Severus gropes around for his wand and doesn't find it anywhere. He tries to wandlessly summon it with Accio but still nothing happens. What in Merlin's name?Had the attacker taken his wand?The Potions Master sits up from his crater in the slide, aching body fiercely protesting the movement. Just in case, he scans the ground for any sign of his wand, in case the wandless charm simply hadn't worked.No sign of it. Apparently it had been misappropriated by the attacker. Severus scowls furiously- being without his wand is the last thing he needs right now.From the looks of it, the attacker is gone.Potter is nowhere to be seen, as well. So that attacker had successfully kidnapped Potter and is Merlin knows where with the brat right now. Obviously, he hadn't taken the car that Severus disabled, but he could have made it a fair distance on foot by now- the man was inordinately fast- or perhaps even obtained another vehicle.Either way, there is an incredibly slim chance of him finding the man, let alone catching up to him, without a wand.This was not how Severus thought the night was going to go. He was hoping to find the Potter brat quickly and let Dumbledore find another home for him, since his relatives are indeed dead.The two attackers he'd petrified are still laying motionless on the street. The situation is nowhere near as dire as if they had not been here. It should be simple to extract the location of wherever they were planning on taking the boy, which is presumably where their metal-armed associate is now. Without a wand, though, Severus cannot un-petrify them, or contain them if they try to run.Sticking his wand arm out over the street, he summons the Knight Bus. If he had any other choice right now, he'd chose that instead of the Knight Bus.The triple-decker purple bus can be used by Squibs like Mrs. Figg, so he doesn't need a wand to summon it. Also, the attacker had apparently decided to leave Severus' money with him. Perhaps he thought Galleons were fools' gold.The triple-decker purple bus appears with a bang in the street, and the abandoned car and the two petrified goons' bodies are magically thrown out of the way of the bus.The behemoth of a vehicle screeches to a stop without any regard to momentum. The conductor comes out while Severus starts to try to carry the two petrified kidnappers. His own aching body protests, and even if he was in his best condition it would be hard to carry the bulky men.The conductor seems a little confused to be helping Severus with his 'baggage', but the Potions Master makes up a story involving copious amounts of Firewhiskey and stupid dueling bets.Unfortunately, Severus has to buy tickets for the attackers as well. The Knight Bus is full of beds right now rather than its collection of mismatched chairs that it has during daytime. After shoving his two statue-esque captives onto beds, Severus sits on a third. There's no way he can sleep on this thing."Where to?" The conductor asks."The Leaky Cauldron." Snape replies, planning on using Floo powder from there.The bus shoots forward at incredible speed and all the beds slide towards the back. Why they haven't applied sticking charms to them so they stay in place is completely beyond Severus. He scowls slightly, noting the gleam of terror in his petrified would-be kidnappers' eyes. It lessens his scowl slightly.After a harrowingly reckless but thankfully quick ride in the bus, Snape and his two frozen captives are dropped off outside the Leaky Cauldron.Severus Floo's to his office with the two captives, depositing them on the stone floor.Dumbledore comes to Severus' office before he can even decide whether to call the Headmaster or not."Severus, where is Harry?" Dumbledore asks. "His new living arrangements have not been settled. Without the blood wards provided by his Aunt, he is in danger from Voldemort's supporters.""He is in danger already." Severus informs the old man. "I was about to question these two, who were involved in an apparent kidnapping." He glares down at his petrified captives.Potter had clearly been terrified. His scream, as well as the bout of accidental magic had made that obvious. And now he's with the most dangerous member of the group of three kidnappers.Even though the boy is James Potter's son and Severus certainly doesn't like the brat, they need to rescue the boy. Who knows what's being done to him right now?Hopefully these two can provide some answers.The two goons groan loudly when they are un-petrified, stretching their stiff bodies. Severus debates conjuring ropes to bind them, but they are not a threat like the third one had been. They do not even have guns this time, since Severus had disarmed them."Do you know who the boy you were taking was?" Dumbledore asks them in a calm voice, as if this isn't an interrogation but a simple chat. Severus had been wondering the same thing- they're muggles, after all, what use do they have for the Boy Who Lived- but why hadn't Dumbledore immediately asked where Harry was?The men pointedly remain silent."Where were you planning on taking the boy?" Severus demands harshly. Again, silence. Maybe it's time to break out the Veritaserum. That will get them talking."...Hail HYDRA" The two goons mutter, not quite simultaneously, before biting down on something in their mouths.They almost immediately begin to experience what appear to be seizures and heart attacks at the same time. Severus grabs a couple of bezoars and crams them down the kidnappers' throats. Whatever poison they seem to have used is apparently incredibly fast acting, and they already seem mostly dead by the time he shoves the bezoars down their throats.The bezoars work on whatever poison they seem to have used. The men gasp and shudder but are no longer at the brink of death.They seem extremely confused when they realize they're still alive, and surprisingly ungrateful.Severus pries open one man's mouth and sees a gap in his teeth along with remains of a fake tooth. Severus has read about suicide pills being used in Muggle militaries for people at a high risk of being captured. Are these two men with some sort of military? Why would they be interested in Potter?From the looks of it, there are no more fake teeth with suicide pills.Regardless, in a silky yet dangerous voice, Severus tells them "Don't try that again."He stalks to his shelves and grabs a couple flasks of Veritaserum. The Ministry of Magic has strict regulations on the use of the truth-telling potion, but they do not need to know about this. Besides, these men will be obliviated once they have what they need, since they are muggles and shouldn't know about magic.The men try to hold their mouths shut even though they most likely do not know what the potion does. Pinching one man's nose cures him of that, and Severus pours some of the truth-telling potion into the man's mouth and them clamps a hand over so he can't spit it out. The man reluctantly swallows, and Severus repeats the process with the other kidnapper."Why did you kidnap Harry Potter? Where were you taking him?" Severus demands."We were ordered to drive the Asset back to the airport once he extracted the Potter kid." The second kidnapper looks extremely shocked that those words just came out of his mouth. Snape smirks slightly when the other kidnapper sends that one a look telling him to be quiet."The Asset?" Dumbledore questions. Severus assumes that the kidnapper is referring to the infuriating man with the metal arm who had managed to somehow beat Severus in a duel."The Winter Soldier." The first man says, looking just as surprised as his companion had about blurting out what is obviously supposed to be classified information.Yet, when they ask who the Winter Soldier is, the two don't have much information, other than that he was "malfunctioning" by appearing to be angry, as if the soldier wasn't supposed to even experience emotions, let alone show them. From the way they talk about him, it's clear the Soldier isn't even regarded as a person in their eyes.They do reveal something vague about wiping the Soldier's memories with a chair, although apparently these two are never involved with it and are rarely involved with the Soldier at all. Since when had Muggles invented something that has the same effect as Obliviate?One of the kidnappers speculates out loud, of course having no control over his tongue, that perhaps the Soldier might not have gone to the plane at all.These kidnappers are not nearly as informative as Severus had hoped, and his chances of finding Potter are growing slimmer by the second.The Asset should be aboard the plane by now instead of sitting in a parked car. It was a seventeen minute drive to his destination, and it has been twenty-two minutes. But at 0159, he'd realized was following the wrong orders and was not driving to the destination.He sits unmoving in the parked car for 5.1 minutes, head throbbing as the battle between missions rages on in his mind without his consent. Not that his consent is ever considered for anything.Weapons cannot give consent, they simply do what they are made to do.Unless they defect. TURN AROUND. GO TO THE AIRPORT. The mission pounds even louder in his head, practically shouting, as he sits in the unmoving car. DELIVER POTTER. RETURN TO HANDLERS FOR MAINTENANCE. COMPLETE THE MISSION. The Asset cannot hear himself think over the blaring mission. That is good. His job is not to think, it is to complete assignments.Even as he starts to put the car back in drive, the new mission once again counters the official mission. Unfortunately, it rises in volume to match the mission. NEGATIVE. MAINTAIN PRESENT ROUTE, DO NOT RETURN TO THE AIRPORT. The two missions continue to argue, and the Soldier longs for the peace and quiet of having one set of orders to obey.The Asset turns on the radio, trying to drown out the new voice in his head that he knows he's not supposed to obey. But the voice commands compliance, same as the official mission.If he can just get rid of the unofficial voice long enough to deliver the boy, his handlers will fix him and everything will be quiet again.He cycles through frequencies on the radio. Of course, none of them match the frequencies of HYDRA communication devices. Even if they did, the passwords have probably changed.He cannot contact his handlers and tell them to come get him because he is defecting and jeopardizing the mission. They would surely punish him, but they would fix him, too.A lot of the different radio stations blare noises that sound like young men being castrated. If it weren't for the screeching guitar riffs in the background (guitars do not sound like that at all, what is wrong with this), he would have wondered if he somehow picked up on frequencies from an interrogation room rather than what is probably supposed to be music.The torture-music only makes his head throb more, and does nothing to overpower the voices, so he quickly skips past those stations. The weather and traffic reports at least hold useful information, although there is no traffic on this quiet side street.TURN LEFT. The mission directs at the next intersection.TURN RIGHT. The new voice counters, sounding just as commanding.His hands want to yank the steering wheel left and right at the same time, and for a moment he wonders if he's going to try to do both and end up ripping the steering wheel apart.Instead, he drives through the intersection without turning either way.What's happening with the Asset isn't like a gun misfiring, it's worse, like a missile that veers off course, a missile that has been hacked. He's certainly not choosing to defect.The escorts had obviously been worried about him malfunctioning when he had reported the odd feeling in his chest and the visions of the skinny blonde person (he'd been a child in one vision, but a man in another). The Soldier had not reported the contradicting, unauthorized orders. They hadn't been orders then, just a small voice that, up until an hour ago, he had been able to ignore.The path their car travels reflects the battle in the Soldier's mind. He speeds towards the airport a few times- the Soldier's job is to complete the mission- but he always malfunctions and changes routes before he can even see the landing area or the HYDRA plane.Even if he reached the plane, he is broken enough that he might not fly it to the base.In the backseat, Potter alternates between dozing and staring out the window, juice box sitting in the cupholder on the child car seat. At one point he points a tiny finger to the window and says something about a purple bus. The Asset briefly wonders if the child is hallucinating, because he appears to be awake instead of dreaming. But children have wild imaginations, so perhaps it is simply that.The boy looks as if he expects to be shouted at for imagining a purple bus. HYDRA would not like nonsense like that, but at the moment it does not matter.Somehow, the Asset drives farther away from the airport. His head throbs harder, as if punishing him for going rogue. The mission-noncompliance on his part is not intentional. RESET REQUIRED. He cannot reset himself, cannot give the trigger words to himself. Handlers are required. Until he gets to the chair or his handlers, his malfunctioning will continue.The Asset's mind aches horribly, but in a different way than it does after the chair. It's too full now, and the fighting missions have exhausted him mentally. After the chair, his mind is always empty, waiting to be filled with the next mission.His body is now shaking involuntarily, in a manner similar to when he gets out of cryo, but not quite as bad because at least now everything isn't freezing. If anything, he's currently warm, but that is almost a welcome change.At 0626, the Asset finds himself stopped outside a building next to some hills a little ways off the road. The hills appear to have some sort of pulley system on them, although they don't look like they'd support particularly heavy cargo.Unless this is a HYDRA base, he has been following the unofficial mission that he should have disregarded.Admittedly, HYDRA is fond of having bases out in the middle of nowhere, but a HYDRA base would most likely not be advertising itself as a place to go skiing. Unlike some bases, this is not too far off from civilization in the first place, but the hills make it seem a little more isolated.The place appears abandoned, which would make sense if it really is a ski slope. It is August, there is no snow.He sweeps the area for any kind of bugs or surveillance equipment anyways. There is one camera on the hill, but that is it.Some more quick but thorough reconnaissance on the Soldier's part confirms that this is not a HYDRA base, it is indeed just a small ski establishment. There is no tank or chair here for him, just a lodge and hills.That should be his cue to leave, not to go into the lodge, but he can't control himself. He keeps trying to deliver Potter like he should, but it still doesn't work. His handlers will be furious, as they should be. He will deserve whatever punishment they give him, will take it without protest as he always does.If he does not deliver Potter to his handlers, as the new mission is instructing, what is he supposed to do with the child? Potter will surely die if left here on his own. What is the final objective of this unauthorized mission? If there is no report to handlers, no cryo tank, does this false mission even have an end?Keep away from HYDRA. The voice says it as if he's not only supposed to keep the child away, but that he's supposed to stay away, himself. The thought is almost incomprehensible.The mission sounds louder in his head as if in protest. RETURN TO BASE. DELIVER THE PACKAGE. REPORT DEFECT.Are his handlers looking for him, now that he is not at the base with the boy? He should not have made it so difficult for them to find him.The Soldier does not choose to ignore the mission and malfunction yet again, but he does.He unbuckles a sleeping Potter from the car seat and grabs the backpack and bags before heading towards the lodge. The locks are simple, of course, but he locks the door behind him. The likelihood of anyone- including HYDRA- finding them here is low, and there is nobody inside the building.The only challenging part about this mission so far is that he keeps defecting, because this is not the actual mission.The main part of the lodge's interior is split into a large sitting area with several couches and fireplaces and a dining area obviously meant to seat many people. The kitchen is split off by the door. Towards the back are several bedrooms for guests, each with an attached bathroom.The Asset puts the food down on one of the tables and then enters a bedroom. He sets the sleeping boy down on the bed. Potter is sucking on his thumb of one of his bandaged hands in his sleep. He is not a baby, but he is still quite young at only four years and twenty-two days. He looks even younger than his true age.He pulls off the boy's coat and boots and old glasses, leaving Potter in the rest of the new clothes.Although changing Potter's clothes helped, the boy is still dirty. His small face is still encrusted with dried tears and snot, and his mouth has bits of bile around it along with the new addition of dried apple juice from the box the Soldier gave him in the store.Bathing the child will have to wait. Potter is asleep, and the Soldier is functioning at only 58%, which is well below acceptable levels.The Soldier does not remove his tactical vest, but he does remove his stolen hooded sweatshirt and his weapons (including the escorts' guns).He carefully arranges his weapons He stretches out on the floor beside them, near the door. If something threatens them, he cannot waste time gathering his things.A bed would be too comfortable to sleep in. He does not know the last time he slept in a bed, or if he ever has.This is at least 9000% better than cryo, and he even has a roof over his head. It's a little hot, but heat is preferable to cold.Set sleep: 4 hours. His head continues to pound with exhaustion from the internal battle between missions, so it is easy to obey that order, even if it is given by the new voice in his head instead of his handlers.He wakes 2.4 hours later when something thumps. Dreams of perching in trees with sniper rifles quickly disappear as he becomes alert to his surroundings.The Soldier is up in an instant, grabbing a knife with his flesh hand and a gun with his prosthetic hand, scanning the room for signs of danger. Sunlight streams through the window, negating the need for night vision goggles.Potter is sitting on the floor, evidently having fallen from the bed, except the Asset had made sure to put him in the center to try to ensure that did not happen. Did the child really move around enough to make it to the edge and fall off in his sleep?Wide green eyes stare at the Soldier in terror. Then the boy scrambles to his feet and flees towards the wardrobe, crawling inside it and shutting the door behind him.After ensuring there is no threat, the Asset holsters his weapons and pulls the wardrobe door open. The boy is shaking with his head buried against his knees, probably getting mucus and tears all over his pants. The Asset cups the boy's head and lifts it to prevent the boy from soiling these new clothes so soon."I-I just waked up there, sir... I d-didn't mean to be in the bed!" Potter stammers out. Of course he woke up there, that is where the Asset put him.He looks at Potter carefully. The fall would be negligible for even a standard adult, but the bed is taller than Potter. The Soldier would not be surprised if the boy was bruised after that fall. "Status report."Potter stares at him in utter confusion, mouth hanging open slightly. Perhaps the boy's previous handlers, the Dursley's, had not asked him for status reports.The Asset tries again, wondering how often he will need to reword statements for the child to comprehend them. HYDRA would punish the boy for not understanding. "Are you injured?""N...no...?" The answer more confused than unsure. "I really don't 'member going in the bed, sir. 'm sorry.""I put you there." The Soldier answers. Why is Potter panicking about being in a bed?This is met by Potter staring at him as incredulously as if he'd just told the boy that he was a ballet dancer instead of a soldier."But... you were on the floor, sir." Potter ventures quietly, as if it should have been the other way around. "It's your bed. I wasn't s'posed to be there.""Not mine. The bed's too soft." The Asset grunts. After a bit, he asks a question that has been in his mind since he first found the boy. He's normally not allowed to ask questions without permission, but he's already defecting to an enormous degree"Why do you address the Asset as sir?" He do not deserve honorifics, but Potter keeps using it."Uncle Vernon says I haf'ta be r...respekful to normal people."The idea of the Soldier being normal is almost laughable, but the Soldier never laughs, or even smiles. If he did, he would be punished, perhaps even wiped. Does Potter actually consider a highly-trained assassin with a prosthetic left arm normal?"I forgot your name is A'set, sir." Potter apologizes in his usual quiet voice. The only time the child had been loud was when the escorts grabbed him.The Asset does not have a name, merely designations such as thator Winter Soldier, but he does not correct the boy. It does not matter if Potter thinks it is his name.The Asset reaches in to grab the boy, who tenses up as usual, but relaxes just a second sooner. When the boy realizes that he's being carried back to the bed, he squirms."No. Freaks don't get beds like normal people." Potter says as if the Asset is missing something obvious.Why does the child keep referring to himself as a freak? Admittedly, the child is not normal- he is underweight and far quieter than his cousin had been- but freak does not seem to be an accurate descriptor.Potter scrambles back to the wardrobe as soon as he is set down. The Asset had observed the elder Dursley throwing the boy in the cupboard under the stairs, and the boy had been sleeping in there. Perhaps the spare bedroom with all the broken toys had not been Potter's, and the small boy had spent his whole life in the cupboard whenever he was not needed.Once again, it reminds the Asset of how he is put in cryo when his handlers have no use for him.If Potter wants to sleep in the wardrobe, the Asset should not care.But Potter does not sleep. Instead, the child suddenly looks scared again, as if he's just remembered he's done something wrong. "You're up. I'm s'posed to make breakfast but Aunt Tuna didn't wake me 'cos this isn't my cupboard."Did Petunia Dursley assign Potter all the cooking duties when he isn't even big enough to reach the stove properly? Furthermore, how often had Potter been allowed to eat the food he was made to prepare?"I can make eggs, an' bacon and black puddin' and toast. But I made a big mess wid-da pancakes last time." The boy shudders, probably remembering whatever punishment had been doled out for that. He seems to regret mentioning the mess, as if he'll be punished again for bringing it up.The Asset does not remember being four, but he doubts he was let near anywhere near a lit stove, let alone made to use one.He wonders if he'd been four years old with that scrawny blonde boy from his vision or not.After a bit, Potter glances hesitantly up at the Asset. "What do you want to eat, Mister A'set, sir?"The Asset is never offered choices about anything, including what he eats. When he's with his handlers, whether he eats at all is entirely dependent on if his handlers are angry at him, and when he is allowed to eat, they decide what, when, and how much.Potter clearly shares that experience. At least the Asset was not forced to cook food and serve it to his handlers while his own stomach growled with hunger, like he'd witnessed Potter doing last night. The thought makes the Asset feel like he's boiling inside, with another chest malfunction, but he has not sustained any actual injury or ailment, to his awareness."Tank you, for the juice." Potter suddenly says, ducking his head."Come," The Asset instructs after gathering up the rest of his weapons and tucking them in their holsters. He opens the door and sees the coast is clear, although he wasn't really expecting anybody to have found them here.Potter follows him out of the bedroom obediently. He'd been asleep when they arrived earlier this morning, so this is his first time looking at the lodge."Is this your house?" He asks, seemingly before he can stop himself."No." The Asset replies. Potter frowns slightly in confusion but doesn't ask any more questions as he follows the Asset to the large dining area.Once there, the boy immediately looks around, clearly expecting to be forced to cook something and wondering what to make. He glances up at the Asset expectantly, but the Asset just strides over to the bags on the table and starts pulling out the food he misappropriated from the store.The Asset had not realized he'd grabbed so much, or that he'd have so many choices. There are packaged muffins and fruits, granola bars, canned soups, and a lot more food that the Asset doesn't entirely remember taking. Even bread, in clear wrapping.There are no handlers telling him what to eat, or that he is authorized to eat in the first place. He was not authorized to obtain this food, but he is not authorized to be here, either.The Soldier stares at the assortment of food.Picking food for Potter is easy. The boy had not been able to stomach the protein bar last night (part of that could have been from being bounced around while the Asset jogged) but has kept the juice from the very early hours of this morning down. The Asset opens a can of soup by poking through the top with his metal hand and then tearing the lid off. The soup is lukewarm.Potter does not seem to mind, does not even seem to think he is allowed to eat it as the Asset passes the can to him.He did not get spoons from the Tesco store, but he finds some in the kitchen, along with bowls."Soup?" Potter asks, as if eating it at breakfast is ridiculous. The child quickly covers his mouth."Yes, Potter." The Asset replies. Hopefully the boy can feed himself without making a mess, but the Asset will spoon-feed him if required. "You are underweight."This gets him another blank look from the boy."Potter?" The boy asks as if he doesn't even know his last name, or maybe he's just confused that he's being called that. The Dursley's had mostly called him 'boy' last night."Your name is Harry James Potter." The Asset replies. Something about the name James is familiar in a way he does not understand. Examining that thought no further, he pushes the bowl with a little bit of tomato soup towards the boy. Potter's stomach is undoubtedly small and cannot hold the whole can's worth, and the Asset is not going to waste the rest. "Eat.""But I didn't make you bweakfast." Potter tells him. The Soldier orders him to eat anyways.Potter seems completely confused, but doesn't put up any further protest as he eats his first spoonful, only spilling a little. His eyes widen when he tastes the first spoonful of tomato soup, eyes closing in bliss as he lets out a slight moan.He is clearly trying to be careful to avoid spilling the soup, but sometimes some sloshes off the spoon and onto the table. The boy is at least leaning over the table so it doesn't fall on his lap."You're not eating..." Potter remarks. "What do you want me to make you?" This child clearly does not retain knowledge without being told multiple times. It is almost a good thing he is not at HYDRA right now. If the Soldier needs to repeat simple things like the boy not needing to make him breakfast, than HYDRA will need to repeat things and they will be angry with the boy. The boy will get hurt when they are angry.The Asset cannot choose what to eat himself, because he does not choose anything. He did not even choose to defect, because he knows he shouldn't. He should leave this place, take Potter to his handlers and fall to his knees to accept whatever the punishment is before being wiped and probably punished after as well.He'd eaten a protein bar yesterday evening, but that had been provided by his escorts.For unknown reasons, his hand hovers over a plum. Plums are a good source of Vitamin C, and they are in season in England in August.Slowly, he takes the plum and eats it, and then a processed muffin. The Asset is not supposed to have opinions about things, but they are both infinitely preferable to protein bars.When Potter is done, he has some soup smeared around his mouth, and he is still somewhat dirty from before. The Soldier vaguely remembers thinking earlier this morning that the boy needed a bath.When he tells the boy this, Potter starts to whimper. From the boy's babbled explanation about only Dudley getting baths, he learns that Potter's aunt had given the boy cold showers. Potter mumbles something about how his "Aunt Tuna" was going to give him a haircut soon, too, and he's obviously not fond of those either.The Asset leads the reluctant boy to the bathroom attached to the room they'd slept in and removes Potter's clothes. At least the new clothes have stayed fairly clean.The Soldier doesn't think showers hurt nearly as much as the hose his handlers use on him, but the boy is shaking so much at the prospect that he ends up filling the bathtub with water.As he bathes the boy, Potter curiously pokes at the Asset's prosthesis as if that arm is not a weapon that can kill him with ease. As if the Asset is not the same thing.It is... odd. People are either scared of him or order him around. Sometimes they are both, but Potter is neither, and has given the Soldier a few more small smiles this morning.Even though it is very inefficient and somewhat messy, he does not stop Potter from splashing in the bath. The water doesn't splash high enough to go out of the tub, but it does get the Asset's tac vest and rolled-up sleeves slightly damp.When the boy is once again clean, the Asset leaves the water in the tub. The idea of not wasting it seems almost instinctual. He can use it for himself, later, he thinks, as he dresses the boy again. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Taking care of a child should be simple. All that's required for looking after Potter is feeding him, making sure he's clean, and making him sleep.Yet Potter is old enough that these things are not a constant process. The boy doesn't loudly wail and demand feeding every few hours like an infant would. Somehow the Asset knows that is what infants do, despite not having any experience with caring for them.So far, Potter has not asked for food at all, instead simply waiting for the Asset to give it to him and assure him he can eat it. If it were the Dursley boy the Asset was looking after, there probably would have been a thousand demands in these past 11.2 hours, 98% of which probably could have been ignored. Unlike Potter, that boy did not need extra nourishment.Potter probably will not need to be fed again for a few more hours.The Asset dries the boy's messy, black hair and realizes that it is untamable as it continues to stick up in every direction. He checks the boy's injuries. The cuts from the plate have healed a surprising amount, as if the boy is has slightly enhanced healing himself."Tank you." The boy thanks him for the bath, or perhaps bandaging him, as if it was a gift. He had done the same thing with the food earlier this morning.Fortunately, the boy knows how to properly deposit bodily wastes in a toilet, despite having an accident sometime in the escorts' car when the Asset was fighting that enemy asset who wielded the weaponized stick. Potter demonstrates this ability after the bath. He almost doesn't pull his pants up when he's done, as if he can't bring himself to dress himself in new clothes, so the Asset hoicks them up."Try not to urinate in your pants, Potter." The Soldier says, remembering last night."Yessir." The boy nods quickly. "I don't need nappies, but I'm not a big boy like Aun' Tuna told Dudley when he went potty.""You are undersized, Potter." The Asset agrees. The boy's eyes light up again when his surname is used."Did...did you knowed my Mummy and Daddy?" The Asset catches just a glimpse of the boy's wide, hopeful green eyes, before Potter immediately ducks his head and stammers out an apology. His parents seem to have been a forbidden subject with the Dursley family."It's did you know." The Asset corrects. He does not know the answer to that question, does not even know who the boys parents are, or were. He could have been sent to kill them. The fact that he doesn't remember a previous target named Potter is meaningless- he's not always told his targets' names.Maybe Potter's parents were influential somehow, and the boy would gain HYDRA some political favor? What other use would the boy be for them?It does not matter, it is not the Soldier's place to question the reasoning behind his missions. Even when he is delaying the mission, such as now."Aun' Tuna says my mummy an' daddy died in a caw cwash." Potter mumbles, mispronouncing the last two words. The Asset remembers the vision of the mission where he'd made the targets' deaths look like a car accident, but somehow he doesn't think those targets were this boy's parents."I did not know them." The Asset answers eventually. The child looks slightly disappointed.Feeding and bathing Potter have only taken up 56 minutes, leaving a large amount of time with no discernible objective. DELIVER THE BOY. He should, but he doesn't. It is still unclear why, aside from the fact he is defective."What d'you want me to do, Mr. A'set, sir?" Potter asks as the Asset rewraps the bandages around Potter's tiny hands. The Asset suspects that the late Mrs. Dursley made Potter clean as well as cook. From what he observed, the Dursley boy never lifted a finger to help. "Cleaning?"They have not been here long enough for the ski resort to get dirty, aside from Potter dribbling soup on the table earlier, which is already cleaned up. None of their food requires cooking, and it seems pointless to send the boy out to cut the grass with a pair of scissors like he reportedly did at the Dursleys' residence. Furthermore, it is odd that Potter is asking about cleaning when his old clothes were filthy with tears and mucus."There are no chores for you to perform, Potter." The Soldier tells him.The boy nods and shuffles off.The Soldier follows and watches the boy enter the wardrobe he'd been hiding in earlier. The Dursley's clearly used the cupboard under the stairs as a place to store Potter when they had no use for him, but it is inferior to the cryo tank in that he is still conscious and requires basic things like food when not being used. Not that the Dursley parents had fed Potter adequately, despite drastically overfeeding the Dursley boy.The Soldier pulls the boy out of the wardrobe, since he needs to keep an eye on him. The boy starts asking about what chores he should perform again, seeming lost at the idea of not being given work to do. It had been the same earlier, when the boy thought he had to cook breakfast.The Asset knows that feeling all too well at the moment. He's still not sure what he's doing right now."Stick by me." The Asset orders, although his voice is still quiet. He has much more experience obeying orders than giving them. "Unless I tell you not to. Do as I say.""That's it?" Potter asks, although he nods in acquiescence to the instructions. "But, that can't be it. I haf'to earn my keep. Can't be a lazy boy, 'cos t'en you'll send me back to da Dursleys." The boy looks at him fearfully.The Soldier presses his lips together in annoyance. What does he need to say to get Potter to retain the information that he cannot go back to the Dursley's? He could just tell the boy he killed the Dursley family, but for some reason, he doesn't. "You are not going back. Stop thinking that."The boy looks at him as if he doesn't really believe it, clearly thinking the Soldier will redact that sometime. "But I'm a ung'ateful freak."He is far from ungrateful, and 'Freak' is still an unclear designation for the boy. The Asset remembers in the store in the very early hours of the morning, Potter had said something about freaks being ungrateful and not deserving new clothes, presumably something that was said to the boy himself. Yet the boy is extremely grateful for almost everything the Soldier does simply to keep him alive.At least wanting to be useful would serve Potter well with HYDRA. After all, the Asset's handlers always find some sort of use for the Soldier when he is not in cryo, even if it is making sure he will obey by supplying correction.Currently, Potter is not nearly as useless as the defective Soldier.The child follows the Soldier out to the main sitting/dining area as ordered and stands unobtrusively off to the side. Most children his age probably would not be able to stay still for so long while not doing anything.The Asset is very good at staying motionless while observing his surroundings. He has had missions with a lot of waiting. He had sat motionless in a hedge for almost five hours last night, but that was part of the mission.He chooses the ideal angle to see out the window while minimizing the ability of outsiders to see him in return and watches for any sign that somebody will stumble across them in this ski lodge. They remain undisturbed, but that will not be the case forever.HYDRA is surely looking for him. The Asset is too valuable an asset to just let go. Or, normally he is. His value might be lower now that he's malfunctioning, but they will be able to fix him.COMPLETE THE MISSION. COMPLETE THE MISSION. The mission keeps blaring in his head, reminding him to leave now that the boy is fed and bathed, that the punishment will only get harsher the longer he delays."Do you want me to shine your shoes, sir?" The boy asks uncertainly after 2.9 minutes of silence, as if he doesn't have as much experience with polishing shoes as cooking and isn't sure whether he should be speaking up at all.The Soldier looks down at his combat boots, which are not shoes in the first place. They are not particularly dirty, yet they are not completely clean either. Nor is there any reason for them to be clean."No." The Asset murmurs.Potter whispers something about 'Aunt Tuna' being mad about dirt.At 1350 the Soldier prepares a late lunch for Potter, since they had a late breakfast ("I'm s'posed to cook" Potter protests again when he sees the Soldier preparing the meal).Potter ends up preparing a meal for the Asset, and the Asset stops the boy from frying bacon on a stove, despite clearly knowing how to do it. The boy's hand is still damaged from Vernon Dursley pressing Potter's hand into the stove yesterday evening.Potter passes the Soldier a plate with bread and marmalade and another plum. He insists the Asset eat it before he eats. His functionality is still within acceptable parameters, no nourishment is required, but the Asset eats it anyways.Not because the boy ordered him to- the boy is definitely not a handler or similar superior- but because he will not waste it.The meal the Asset prepared for the boy has not only some soup like breakfast, but a few crackers (or 'butter biscuits for children', as they're labelled on the package). The crackers/biscuits are shaped like anatomically-incorrect animals that bare little resemblance to real animals.Potter still seems shocked that he is allowed to eat, especially the animal crackers, and he stares at the Soldier with wide green eyes until he is given permission to eat. Apparently only the Dursley boy got so-called "fun" food like animal-shaped crackers.Potter clearly enjoys them, and starts to make animal noises as if the crackers are alive. "Rawr, rawr." The child lets out a quiet, playful roar as he moves an animal cracker that vaguely looks like a tiger. He looks up at the Soldier as if he'd been caught doing something naughty by playing with his food and quickly bites off the tiger's head.The boy casts a longing glance at the bag of crackers when he finishes the first few, and the Asset gives him more once it's clear they're not coming right back up. Potter gives the Asset the biggest smile yet, as if he's the greatest person in the world, instead of a deadly assassin, simply for giving him more crackers. That smile makes the chest malfunction in a way that's different from the previous errors.At the end of the meal, the boy is still clutching three crackers- a lion, a seal and a bear. He seems to think the Soldier will take them from him at any moment. Even though he hunches over them protectively, he probably would not fight back if the Soldier tried to take them from him.The Soldier lets him keep them and the boy clutches the crackers, though he occasionally continues to play with them as if they're toys. He stands just a bit closer to the Soldier than before lunch.At 1410, the Asset turns on the screen in the bedroom they'd slept in, while Potter crawls into the wardrobe. It does not matter right now, the Asset can still see the wardrobe, so Potter is still staying close by as he was told to do.There is a screen in each bedroom, as well as three in the large sitting area of the ski lodge. The pictures are not projected on the screen, but are projected from the screen itself.Some part of him thinks it remarkable that the pictures are in color, and that the screens are in ordinary places like this. It is a very odd thought, because the Asset has seen television screens before. The Dursleys had a few in their home, but he doesn't think that was the first time he saw them.At first, the screen shows a segment about deodorant, and then, once he switches the channel, some mindless program featuring those stupid anthropomorphic locomotives. He changes the channel again, quickly.'BBC News' is currently doing a report on the so-called tragic gas fire that took Vernon, Petunia and Dudley Dursleys' lives when it exploded their house. Just as the Asset predicted, it seems the reporter had no clue that Potter was there at all.Of course, they don't know the Soldier started the explosion with the oven.The news also mentions the stolen car and burgled Tesco store from the early hours of this morning, which means the authorities will be looking for the car, which means driving it around more would be stupid.The car is almost out of gas anyways, since he drove it around for 4.8 hours earlier rather than only 17 minutes. In fact, he might not have enough to make it to a gas station anyways, and stealing gas in daylight would be even trickier than stealing it at night.If Potter is hearing and processing what the screen is saying about the house blowing up, he does not comment from within the wardrobe.The Asset debates staying here for a bit. It is a fairly good base of operations, although he is not supposed to be here and the mission is constantly pounding in his head to return the boy to the base.Despite his enhanced hearing, the continual battling inside his head, coupled with the noise from the news report, mean he doesn't hear the footsteps outside until they are near the lodge. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- As soon as he hears the footsteps (he should have heard them earlier) the Soldier vaults over the bed to grab the rest of his weapons while simultaneously pulling out some of the knives stashed on his body.The screen is now reporting the weather as if he can't just look out the window and see that it's rainy, with clouds indicating a good chance of a storm coming.Potter is still hiding in the wardrobe. The Asset opens the door. The boy evidently does not realize what is happening, has not heard the footsteps. Had he been listening to the news? Had he understood the news about his relatives' demise? He had seen the house explode when the Asset took him, but does not seem to understand that the Dursley's are dead and he will not be returned to their care.Potter smiles up at the Asset, still clutching the animal crackers. Why does the boy keep smiling at him? Why do smiles do weird things to the chest?The Asset is about to lift the boy out, but glimpses the figure outside the bedroom window out of the corner of his eye. It's a man, armed with a gun. The Soldier does not recognize this man.The man aims the gun at him through the window. The Soldier shuts Potter back in the wardrobe instead of pulling him out, and orders the boy to stay in there until further notice. He is almost certain the boy will obey. The boy is not perfect at obedience, but he has stayed put whenever the Soldier told him to.Fighting without Potter in his arms will be significantly easier, Potter is safer in the wardrobe.The Asset presses up against the wall by the window, trying to get the best tactical advantage against whoever is outside. He sees a black van parked at the other end of the lodge, near the window by the fireplace in the large sitting room. Presumably the mysterious man's. It is not the car that the Asset stole at 0140 this morning, or the car the escorts had been in. Even his enhanced hearing did not detect the sound of it driving up, just like he hadn't heard the footsteps over the noise of the news report and his internal battle until just a few seconds ago.Dealing with the man outside will be easy. Simply jump out the window, block some bullets with his metal arm, take the guy out.Return to grab Potter and the supplies. Relocate. RETURN TO BASE. DELIVER HARRY JAMES POTTER. The plates on the Soldier's prosthetic arm shift. He's a highly trained assassin, he will not lose to the man outside the window. The man will not harm Potter.The Soldier grabs his gun in his flesh hand. марионетка A code word has been given, but not from the man standing on the other side of the glass. It sounds like a recording being played back at a loud volume.Code word accepted.It is not the total reset, which requires a string of words. Ordinarily, he would need to obey whoever gives it, but it is a recording, not a person.The Asset pauses without lowering the knife.The front door of the lodge is busted open. Four more people swarm in- three men, one woman- all brandishing guns and shouting. None of them are the Asset's normal handlers, nor are they the escorts who had been sent with it before being incapacitated by the enemy asset with the weaponized stick.The recording is still playing on loop, and some of the men are shouting the word too."Marionetka, marionetka!" They shout with the recording. The pronunciation is not vastly different from the English translation of the word, but they all have British accents and clearly are not fluent in Russian.The recording is not of these people. All the same, they have the code word and are therefore superiors, even if the Asset has no recollection of ever seeing them before. Perhaps they are local sleeper agents for HYDRA.It is not the Asset's place to question who they are. The Asset only needs to obey."Soldier, stand down." One of the male agents says, in English, still with a British accent.An order. An official order. OBEY. The Soldier stands down. It follows orders, as it is meant to do. For the moment, the Soldier is functioning within acceptable parameters, unlike the past 13.5 hours.Despite the fact the Soldier has lowered its weapons and is standing obediently and submissively, the agents eye it warily."Look at this." The bearded man scoffs and gestures towards the food. The box of animal crackers is still sitting on one of the tables in the dining area. His eyes fall to the bedroom."The Asset was going rogue. Trying to hide with the boy. Like he likes the stupid kid." They are talking about the Soldier as if he is not capable of hearing them, or not present in the room. This is common.The bearded man is correct about the Asset malfunctioning. He is incorrect about the boy being stupid."Good thing they put a tracker in the the metal arm." A blond man- not at all like the one from the strange visions- says, glancing at the appendage. It is currently visible, as the Soldier is not wearing the stolen hooded sweatshirt.So that is how they found the Soldier. He hadn't known there was a tracker in its prosthesis, but there was no reason to be told. A weapon doesn't know what its made of."Shut it." One of the other agents hisses at the one who'd muttered about the tracker, as if that was classified information. Will that agent be punished for revealing it?The Asset is not permitted to do anything with this new knowledge of the tracker. He certainly isn't permitted to remove the tracking device, not that it would be easy to remove from his own prosthesis.After he is wiped, the Soldier will not even remember there is a device in the arm."What did you do with the other escorts?" The woman demands, standing 3.3 m away."An enemy asset seemed to petrify them with a weaponized stick, which allowed him to do things like teleport. The escorts were useless to the mission when they were incapacitated." The Asset reports tonelessly. "The enemy asset was successfully neutralized with little damage to the Asset." The Asset does not fetch the weaponized stick from the backpack for them, but gestures to it. They seem worried about the gesture, as if it is the start of an attack."Why are you here?" The bearded man questions, but before the Asset can respond, the female follows up with a second question."Where is the Potter brat?""Wardrobe." The Soldier murmurs. Part of him does not want to provide this intel.One of the agents, the tall one, strides into the bedroom wrong bedroom, mutters something about "even watching the bloody telly, who does he think he is", and yanks the wardrobe door open.Inside, Potter tries to stifle terrified noise and shrink into the corner of the wardrobe, obviously wanting to disappear. The agent reaches in and picks him up. Potter stiffens fearfully in the man's arms, and the animal crackers he's been clutching in his bandaged hands crumble apart and fall to the floor.The tall agent brutally pulls Potter's messy black hair away from his face to confirm that there is indeed that odd lightning-bolt scar on his forehead. One of the highly-identifiable traits of the target, the Soldier had been told at the briefing.The boy's eyes green well up with tears, and he lets out a quiet gasp. It's obvious he's experienced with pain from his time with the Dursley's. Not only is the tall man yanking on his hair, he's also jostling the abrasions from the beating the boy had received last night."Stop." The Soldier does not know why it says it, but stop is what the false mission in the head is blaring. The Soldier is not allowed to give orders, except perhaps to the boy. But he says it to the superiors in the room, and the metal arm's plates shift again, as if preparing for a battle the Soldier is not allowed to fight."Stand down!" The man holding Potter sounds very worried. Perhaps they think he took out the escorts. But he is not capable of completely immobilizing people like the enemy asset. The man is not holding Potter the right way.The child reaches out towards the Soldier."M-my Sol-der... keep me s-safe?" The words are choked out in little more than a whisper.It is not an order. The boy cannot give orders, he is a target, not a superior. Why does the Soldier want to comply?Get the boy, the unofficial voice once again gives orders in the Soldier's head."Shut it, you." The agent holding the boy gives the child a rough shake. Some of the tears in the boy's eyes start to leak out."There are abrasions on his back." The Soldier's hands twitch forward as if to take Potter from the tall man, but he stops himself and keeps them at his sides, where they clench into fists. Why are they clenched? He has been ordered to stand down.The other people, even the man still outside the window, all aim their guns at the Soldier's head and shout at it. This is also nothing new, and a good idea. This way, they can put the Soldier down, or incapacitate it, if it malfunctions and attacks.The Asset's prosthetic arm whirs, plates shifting. The fist clenches tighter. It wants to swing out, grab Potter. This is mission non-compliant. It is disallowed."Marionetka." The bearded agent doesn't quite stammer, but it is close. Coward. "Marionetka. Stand down."The boy is still reaching out towards the Asset, a pleading expression on his face. The Asset's arms twitch in the boy's direction."He's not yours." One of the men tells the Asset, actually speaking directly to it. "He's HYDRA's."The boy belongs to HYDRA, just like the Asset. It is none of the Asset's concern if the boy is hurt.The mission was to deliver the target, Harry James Potter. The Soldier did not complete it.Failure and defects are inexcusable. There will be correction.The body remembers previous corrections, but there are no overwhelming images in the mind to accompany the phantom sensations of burns, beatings, simulated drownings. The experiments testing the limits of the Soldier's healing, electroshock treatment, the Chair.Especially the Chair.Respiration and heartbeat increase 20%. The body trembles slightly.The Asset tries to be still as ordered. It deserves correction for failing the mission."Hands behind your back." The blond man who is not from the visions barks, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. The Asset complies, feels the cold metal snap around his flesh wrist. He does not feel it on the prosthetic arm.This position means the Soldier will not be able to hold Potter as he was made to do in the escorts' car. The tall man is still holding the boy incorrectly, still touching his injured back. Potter is crying silently, but seems to realize the Asset cannot hold him with cuffed hands.The fists are still clenched. At least the agents are smart enough to administer the cuffs behind the back, rather than in front, where the Soldier could more quickly malfunction and grab them in a choke hold. The voice giving the new, unofficial orders, tells the Soldier to do just that.The Soldier is physically capable of breaking through the restraints, but it doesn't. It stands with its hands cuffed behind its back."Just reset him. They gave us the words." RESET REQUIRED. The bearded man glances down at a sheet of paper he produced from his pocket."Zhelaniye... Rzhavyy, Sem-nadtsat'..."The Soldier knows the words. They increase respiration and heart rate by 13%."Rass-vet... Pech'..."They make the mind think of a book. The man does not have the book, but he has the words, even if he stumbles a little over the pronunciations.The mind slowly grows quieter, for the first time in over twelve hours. No more warring missions. There is only one set of orders. This is how it is meant to be.The Soldier's fists unclench, and its muscles relax.After the tenth word- "grusovoy vagon", грузовой вагон, Freight-car- the Soldier is completely still.The head is quiet, soon to be filled with a mission. It stares at the handlers, awaiting orders."Soldier?""Ready to comply." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Albus Dumbledore sees that the house that was once Number Four, Privet Drive is truly blown up, much like the Potter's house had been in Godric's Hollow less than three years before, on that Halloween night when Voldemort killed Lily and James Potter.All that is left of Number Four is charred rubble. The Blood Wards are essentially useless now that Harry's family is dead, and Dumbledore is trying to change them into some sort of protection for Harry, to keep him safe until they get him back.The sky is cloudy and there's a storm on the horizon, which fits the mood rather well.Albus knows they must get the boy back. It's been at least fifteen hours since he got the frantic fire call from Arabella Figg about the Dursley residence exploding. It's been about as long since Severus dueled the man who still most likely has Harry.Harry is missing, and most likely in grave danger. Not only from potential Death Eaters, but from the assassin with the metal arm who presumably still has Harry in his clutches."This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't sent him here." Beside Dumbledore, Minerva is fuming, with the rather fitting ferocity of a mother lion protecting her cubs, about how she knew that Harry should have never been left with the Dursley family, and how they were the worst sort of Muggles imaginable. "Merlin knows what that man is doing to him. If he so much as lays a hand on Harry, I'll-"Albus tunes her out and focuses on the wards.Changing the wards is not particularly tricky for Dumbledore, but there's no guarantee that the new protection wards will be able to help Harry wherever he is. The problem lies in the fact that they would be much more effective if Harry were here and Dumbledore could cast them on him directly.He should have thought to cast something like this when he left Harry on the Dursleys' doorstep, but it's not as if he was in danger with his relatives.Hopefully the new wards will protect Harry until they find him again. Albus really hopes the assassin isn't planning on killing Harry. The boy is necessary for defeating Voldemort. Despite what most of the wizarding world chooses to believe, Voldemort will most likely return.Severus is stalking towards them, holding some sort of muggle device. He had been sent out to the site of the car where he had fought the assassin- thankfully, the car evidently hasn't been moved by the muggle authorities yet."What is it?" Minerva asks, looking at the device. It is a gray box with a glass screen that lights up, showing a map."A... GPS." Albus answers, still unfamiliar with the term. Some of the things muggles invent are truly amazing.In their second questioning of the kidnappers, they had managed to gain a bit of useful information. The two muggles- who are once again petrified- revealed that this 'GPS' device will tell them the location of the soldier who took Harry, by tracking something in the soldier's metal arm. It is one of those... electric devices, though, and muggle technology often doesn't work well with magic.Severus looks at it as the screen flickers slightly, and the Potions Master reads out an address that almost certainly isn't connected to the Floo Network. Furthermore, they can't apparate there without knowing what the place looks like.Dumbledore decides to try to pull some strings and get someone at the ministry to connect the building -which is apparently some sort of ski lodge, whatever that is- to the Floo Network briefly.The Soldier stands quietly, awaiting orders from its handlers. The head is quiet, and the agents have turned off the screen, so the only noise is the rain that has started to fall on the roof, and the boy's quiet sobs.The boy is in the bearded agent's arms, but the agent's grip is rough. The boy had been a target, a package to deliver, but he is now in the hands of the handlers. That mission is complete. It should not have taken so long to complete the mission, but the Soldier had defected.It does not know if it is still defective, but it will be punished regardless. For defecting enough that HYDRA had to send agents to collect the Soldier and the boy, instead of just returning to the base and delivering the boy like it was supposed to.The agents have not yet given the Asset a new mission. Perhaps there will not be a new mission until it is returned to the base, and wiped in the Chair.The boy, the previous mission, Potter, is staring at the Asset. "Mr. A'set, sir?" The Asset doesn't respond."...M-mar-onet-tka?" Potter tries the word very hesitantly, saying it as if it is one of the Asset's codenames rather than a code word used to control it. He speaks so quietly, the Soldier doesn't think the agent holding the boy hears the word. The Soldier has enhanced hearing, and even its ears barely pick up the word. марионетка The boy has given the code word that means, essentially, I am a superior, obey me. I control you.The Soldier's eyes snap to the child. Potter had been a target, merely a package to deliver for the mission. The Asset has never had a target turn into a superior, at least not that it can remember. Yet there have been people the Asset first thought were enemies who turned into superiors, such as the men and woman in the room.Regardless, the reset means past missions are unimportant. All that matters is the new mission, which still has not been assigned.But the boy had simply heard the agents saying the code word earlier. Potter was certainly not authorized to use the word or gain control over the Asset. Is the child really a superior now?As the Asset thinks this, something seems to ripple through its mind, a foreign entity trying to reset him again. It stirs something else, something inside the mind, that immediately starts trying to push out.The boy has given the codeword before the agents in the room. It is not the Asset's place to question its handlers. The young handler had given the word, that is all that matters. The agents still have not given the code word, following the reset."A-A'set..." The boy stammers. The Asset's eyes stay on the handler. It must always give its superiors its full attention when they address it."Help..." The boy is loud enough this time that the agent holding him hears the word. It is clear that he doesn't really have much hope about getting any assistance. He stares pleadingly at the Soldier's face, only his green eyes briefly flick down to where the Soldier's arms are cuffed behind its back."Put a sock in it, you." The bearded agent holding the Soldier's young handler growls. "He won't help you, he obeys us."Incorrect."Puh-ease..." The mini-handler is much quieter. It is an odd thing to add, handlers never say please. Until now. HELP It is the first order the Soldier has gotten since being reset. The mini-handler has given the Soldier a mission. OBEY. Get the boy, The other voice adds. Keep him safe.The agent puts a hand over the mini-handler's mouth. Eyes wide with fear, the mini-handler kicks instinctively and catches the agent in the groin with a tiny, waterproof red boot. The agent grunts, grimacing and bending forward slightly, yet not letting go of the boy.Despite landing a kick, the mini-handler definitely does not have this agent on the ropes. Will he say he did, anyways? That seems familiar, somehow, as if someone who'd gotten beat up said that.Once he regains his bearings, the agent wraps a hand around the mini-handler's throat. The child squirms more, landing a kick in the man's stomach. STOP. The Soldier's fists clench. Save the handler. The agent is not allowed to hurt the Soldier's handler. Doing so makes him an enemy, a threat to be neutralized. The man is no longer a superior, as he had been before the reset.The Asset usually has missions involving assassinations, yet somehow the idea of protecting a scrawny boy and beating up people who try hurting the boy seems almost instinctual, as if he's done it a million times before, but for someone else. His mind conjures an image of the blonde guy.In one fluid movement, the Asset rips the chain on the cuffs, although the metal rings are still around its wrists, and brings its arms forward, lunging for the agent holding the Asset's mini-handler.The agents had gotten too relaxed, let their guard down in the Soldier's presence. Their mistake. The agents fumble slightly with their weapons, in shock, giving the Soldier even more of an advantage.It takes the agents 1.3 seconds to properly aim their weapons at the Asset. By that time, the Asset has its mini-handler in its flesh arm, against its hip."What the f-" is all the bearded agent manages to get out before the metal hand is wrapped around his throat and the words are replaced with panicked, strangled sounds."Soldier, stand down!" The blonde male agent shouts. The agents all look very scared, and some of the guns are shaking slightly with their bodies. "Marionetka! Marionetka! Soldier, comply!"Code word: rejected. They are now enemies of the Soldier's handler. They have no power over the Soldier.The Asset's hand tightens and crushes the bearded agent's windpipe. That threat to the Asset's handler has been neutralized.The three remaining agents in the room are standing between .8 and 1.7 meters away.The fourth living agent, still standing outside the window 2 meters away, abruptly fires his gun, shattering the glass pane. The sound of guns and glass breaking makes the mini-handler cry.The Soldier shields its mini-handler from the glass shards with its body, and another agent takes the opportunity to fire their gun at them. The Soldier successfully covers its handler, but the bullet buries itself in the Soldier's flesh arm.Adrenaline dulls the Asset's pain. Its own injuries are negligible, and it seems to have prevented the injury of its handler, though there is no time to thoroughly examine the mini-handler now.The Asset has three pistols and six knives to go against four armed agents, but right now its hands are busy holding its mini-handler and the dead bearded agent. It is a good thing they had not gotten around to frisking him.The Asset shoves the boy under the bed. The bed does not provide great cover, but it is better than nothing. While it is doing this, two of the other agents fire off shots.He uses the dead body of the bearded agent as a shield, and red soon splatters on the ground. One of the bullets goes all the way through the man but is stopped by the Soldier's tactical vest.It is good he hadn't taken off the vest. He already has one bullet wound, another- especially in the chest- would greatly hinder his performance or even kill him.That would be unacceptable. It would put his young handler in danger, the Soldier notes as he aims his gun in one fluid motion.Lightning flashes outside, as the storm predicted by the news finally arrives.The female agent is pulling out a communication device, while the agent outside climbs through the shattered window.The Asset hurls the lifeless body at two of the agents to provide a distraction while he draws his own gun. The body not only knocks them down, it knocks the communication device out of the female agent's hands before she can call for help. The device is soon crushed under the Asset's boot.The third and fourth agents try to squeeze off shots that the Asset blocks with its metal arm, though the second bullet almost gets past the Asset's defenses.The Soldier is an incredibly skilled marksman and can shoot quicker than the agents. Four shots from his own gun, and they all fall with bullets in their foreheads. He did not even need to get any of his knives dirty, although the room is now far from clean.The Asset crouches down by the edge of the bed. The mini-handler is pressed up against the wall under the bed, curled tightly in the fetal position. He looks even smaller, like when he'd been in the cupboard under the stairs. The handler's body is shaking with muffled sobs, one hand trying to stifle them.At every clap of thunder, Potter flinches. Perhaps he thinks they are gunshots.The Soldier's presence is ignored. This is not uncommon- there's no need to acknowledge a weapon unless it is needed, and the threats have been neutralized.Handlers do not cry, so this is a first, unless he's not remembering some other handler crying. The Asset remembers the boy crying back when he was the target, and how he had wet his pants during the other fight. At least that seems to have been avoided this time.The Asset waits for further orders, or a prompt for a status report. Nothing is forthcoming from the handler at the moment.He should take care of the bullet in his arm. After all, he needs to be in peak condition for optimum performance to ensure further mission success.It takes longer for the Asset to find a medical kit here at the ski lodge than it had at the Dursley residence, but after 4.5 minutes, he eventually finds one behind a counter in the actual kitchen, which is separated from the large, open, combined sitting and dining areas. He keeps an ear out for any sound of more approaching agents.The Asset returns to the bedroom in case his handler has a need for him, and sits on the floor.At least the bullet is not too difficult to reach with tweezers. The Asset does not have much experience with field medicine, but he manages to dislodge the bullet with tweezers, scowling even more fiercely than usual at the pain. He has to stop to catch his breath once, now that his adrenaline has ebbed. It is more difficult than removing the porcelain shards from the handler's hands had been last night, when he'd been the target.Before the Asset fully pulls the bullet out, his handler speaks from under the bed. The Asset stills, giving his handler's words his full attention, despite him being hidden from sight under the bed."You beated da bad guys up?" The mini-handler asks cautiously.Mission Report. Odd that the new handler doesn't explicitly order it."The threats have been eliminated." The Asset reports. "They will not harm you.""They... not hurt me?" The boy asks as if not being hurt is a foreign concept."They will not harm you." The Soldier repeats in the exact same monotone, but he is making a promise. Nobody will harm his handler. Not under his watch, certainly."Oh." The handler is silent for a bit. "You helped me...?" He sounds awed, as if he didn't expect the Soldier to follow orders. Then again, the Soldier had been unintentionally defecting before the reset."Affirmative.""I think... you really are my Batman, Mr. A'set, sir."Is Batman supposed to be a new codename? But he had still been called Asset by his handlerso the usual codename still applies.Why is the handler calling him Mr. and sir? If anything, it should be the Soldier respectfully addressing his handler with the honorifics, certainly not the other way around. But the Soldier never corrects his handlers, so he doesn't comment on the odd form of addressing a weapon."Affirmative." The Asset- possible new codename: Batman- answers.The handler does something odd, when he pokes his head out from under the bed and smiles at the Soldier, although his small nose is slightly scrunched from the smell of blood. It had been odd enough before, but it is stranger now that the Soldier is under his control. Smiles are not something handlers typically wear when looking at him.The mini-handler has not given any orders since help, which has been carried out successfully. The small boy crawls out from under the bed and frowns."Blood." Potter points his finger, first at the blood splattered from the agents' foreheads, but then at the Soldier's blood. "Mr. A'set. Blood. You hurt?""Functioning within operable parameters." The Asset replies, still crouched on the floor. His reflexes in his right, flesh arm may be slowed as much as 70%, but he is not completely incapacitated. His prosthesis is not damaged, and it is more powerful than his flesh arm.The Soldier stills when the boy wraps his arms around his neck. He doesn't move to shake his handler off- he is never allowed to. But this isn't checking his functionality. It's almost like... a hug?"Hurt." The handler murmurs sadly, as if the Soldier's pain actually matters. The wound does hurt, but all that matters is whether he is functional. "Like wid'da Dursleys.""Pain manageable."The boy's arms tighten slightly around the Soldier's neck when lightning flashes and thunder booms 2.1 seconds after the lightning, but the grip is not tight enough to interfere with respiratory functions. Potter lets out a tiny whimper and buries a tiny, still-bandaged hand in the Asset's hair. The Asset doesn't move.It is strange, having the handler cling to him like this, but slowly, the small body relaxes, a tiny head with messy black hair falling against the Soldier's chest, tiny hands pulling slightly at his hair. The hair-pulling and tightening around the neck do not feel like punishments."You were like a robot. Dudley watched 'em on the telly when I was cleaning, but then Aunt Tuna hit me for it. Freaks don't get to watch telly." The boy whispers guiltily, eyes lowered. "But you're my Batman A'set now... I seed him too.""The... Batman Asset is not a robot." The Asset easily adapts to the new codename and doesn't correct the boy's grammatical mistakes. Apparently, his new handler had had seen his cousin watching Batman, whatever that is, as well. But Batman is a new codename, and the cousin hadn't been watching the Soldier."The blood!" The mini-handler gasps again after 17 seconds of neither of them speaking, looking at the blood on the floor as if he'd temporarily forgotten, despite the smell. " I-I'll clean it. Now." He promises hastily, almost panicked.If anything, shouldn't the handler order the Asset... Batman to clean it up? He would obey unquestioningly, of course, and he knows how to clean messy evidence such as blood, or even guts and organs. Usually his kills are more clean than these had been.He cannot tell his handler what to do, so he remains silent. The boy shuffles off, head ducked down.The Asset goes back to cleaning the wound on his arm and bandaging it. Once that's done, he pulls the second bullet out of his tac vest. It plinks as it falls and rolls across the floor.3.7 minutes later, Potter returns with a bucket, a rag and ammonia, and starts to blot at the blood stains in the carpet. He obviously has practice from living with the Dursley's. Had he been made to clean his own blood after getting injured?He should not be handling ammonia at such a young age."That is not necessary." The Soldier murmurs. It's speaking out of turn, but the boy isn't very forthcoming with anything. Handlers are always explicit with orders, except this one."But I gotta clean it, sir."The Asset says nothing as he turns to his other arm.The prosthesis, at least, had not been damaged by any bullets. But it had been what had lead to the whole incident, apparently. They had tracked him with a device in his arm that they had not told him about. If it stays in, they will find him again, and soon.There might already be backup agents on the way, if they worry that they're not getting a response from the dead agents.He glances at the handler, wondering if the boy will give permission to reveal the tracker.The small handler seems rather uneasy around the corpses, only cleaning the blood at least 1 m away from them, and staring at their bleeding foreheads, rubbing his own. It had obviously bled as well, whenever he got that odd lightning bolt scar. The Soldier does not know how his handler got the scar, or when, or if his handler remembers it. He is so young, after all, that at least a fourth of his life is totally forgotten to him.Still, there is no doubt that the boy remembers more of his short life of barely more than four years than the Asset remembers of his significantly longer existence.While Potter seems to have experience with being around and cleaning blood, he clearly does not have experiences with corpses or brain matter, and seems quite scared of both of them."Are they gonna wake up?" Potter asks fearfully, looking at the dead bodies as if they will suddenly be resurrected to slap him for not cleaning quickly enough."They are dead. But more will come." The Asset says."They're scawry. No more puh'ease." Potter whispers, squeezing his eyes shut.Keep him away from HYDRA. The defective voice is now back, with a new mission. Keep the handler safe.This makes the Batman pause. This handler clearly does not want to be aligned with HYDRA, but he was supposed to be HYDRA's property. Delivering him had been the previous mission, but that is irrelevant after the reset.If the handler wants to stay away from HYDRA, the Soldier will ensure he stays away.Yet, even though his currently handler is not part of HYDRA, the Soldier still is. HYDRA would not let their asset go, they will be searching for him and the boy.The mission is to avoid HYDRA. They cannot stay here, then. HYDRA will look for them here. RELOCATE. The Soldier nods, and gathers the agents' weapons for his own use later. The only positive part of them showing up is that he now has more guns. It hurts to pick them up with his flesh arm, though, so he straps them onto the various clips on his tactical vest with his prosthesis.The Asset moves to the dining/sitting area. He grabs the bags of food, which were already mostly packed. He pauses at bag of animal crackers, which is still on the table instead of packed with the other food.His handler will need food. The boy is looking at the crumbs in the wardrobe as if he is wondering if he can get away with eating them.The Asset pulls out a couple crackers, before stuffing the bag of them in his backpack.He glances at the weaponized stick in the side pocket of the backpack, then pulls it out and tosses it aside. He cannot use it anyways, and for all he knows, that might be able to track them as well. Besides, since he will be avoiding HYDRA, there is no need to deliver it to them.Potter grins widely at the Asset when he hands him a few animal crackers, as . "F'ank you siwr." The boy speaks around the bear cracker he already stuffed in his mouth as he wordlessly holds one up to the Asset. The Asset takes the giraffe-shaped cracker and eats it.The boy is already dressed in his waterproof boots and coats. The Soldier does not have similar waterproof clothes, and pulling on the stolen hooded sweatshirt could further injure his flesh arm, so he leaves the sweatshirt off. Unfortunately, his metal arm is still visible, and it is very distinguishable.As he heads towards the door, the mini-handler glances at the Soldier, almost as if he is supposed to be giving orders instead of the boy. The Soldier still has the voice in his head giving orders, telling him to relocate.The Soldier doesn't know where he's going when he steps outside- it's only drizzling now, the storm only lasted 4.6 minutes- but he hadn't known where he was going when he ended up at the ski lodge, either.He will not take the van that the agents arrived in. They will be looking for it. He could steal the gas for the car he'd stolen last night, but the television had proven that the theft of that car was reported so he will not be inconspicuous.Walking it is.Fifteen minutes into their walk, the boy is stumbling tiredly, but hasn't uttered a single word. Still, the mini-handler's hands let go of the animal crackers, but the Soldier catches them before they hit the ground.Carry him. The voice says when the boy nods off then and there. WAIT FOR PERMISSION. "Permission to pick you up." The Soldier says. The boy gives a noncommittal grunt, head drooping, as he almost falls to the ground. Potter had not gotten much sleep last night.The Soldier takes the boy practically falling as permission, since they need to move. He scoops his sleeping handler into his metal arm, his right hand clutching the animal crackers for the handler to eat later, and continues walking.It takes a little over half an hour to Floo from Arabella Figg's house to the to the Ministry of Magic, arrange for the location to temporarily be connected to the Floo Network (without revealing the real reason), and then Floo to the location that the GPS had given them.The dot showing where the man is had mysteriously disappeared while they were at the ministry. Perhaps there was too much magic in the air for the muggle device, yet it still shows the map, just not the man's location. Right before they floo'd here, it had still been absent.Severus looks around as he steps out of the fireplace at their location, borrowed wand clasped in his hand. He's ready to fight the man who stole Potter.Severus will not lose to the muggle this time. If he hadn't underestimated the man, he should have won the first time. After all, the Potions Master is a very competent wizard and skilled duelist. It seems this muggle is more powerful than a human should be, but Severus knows to expect that now.Dumbledore and McGonagall step out of the fireplace after him.They arrive in a large, combined sitting and dining area, that seems to be a public place, but it is deserted now, or at least this area is. There is the smell of ammonia in the air.Dumbledore casts a human-presence-revealing spell, and it reveals that they are the only ones in the building. Great, so the man left already. Severus casts a glance down at the GPS, but still the dot is gone, meaning they have no way to track him.Severus approaches the side room that the smell is coming from, and it turns out to be one of several bedrooms, presumably for guests.There are four dead men and a dead woman, all bleeding from their foreheads. At least Potter's body is not among them, but there is no guarantee he is fine. Perhaps his lifeless body is elsewhere. Severus has no idea what the kidnappers had planned for the boy, and he's not sure the wards Dumbledore changed are really doing anything to help the brat.The only good news is that Severus finds his wand on the floor. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The Asset carries his sleeping mini-handler, the bags of food and his backpack, with only his prosthetic arm. He could still use his flesh arm, and ignore the pain- he's good at that, and he's worked through pain worse than his current gunshot wound- but using the injured arm will slow down its healing, and at the moment, there is no need to use it.This vast, open countryside is both advantageous and disadvantageous. There are currently no people around to spot him here, but it is a lot harder to avoid detection. There would be more places to conceal oneself in a city, but there would be more people who could potentially be HYDRA agents looking for him.He keeps walking away from the road, and uses the hills to conceal him as much as possible. Only two cars have driven by in the past 25 minutes. Both times, he wondered if they were HYDRA, but the cars drove by without slowing down and so far, nobody has come after him. Still, the Asset will not let his guard down.The Asset can move at least 1.5 times faster than the non-enhanced human, but he walks instead of jogs, since the boy had thrown up last time the Soldier had jogged while carrying the child, and would likely regurgitate again.He would be able to cover even more ground if he had a car, but he had to leave both the car he stole and the agents' car at the lodge. The authorities are looking for the one he stole- which was almost out of gas anyways- and the agents' car could have one, or several, tracking devices in it.They are looking for him, and have a way to track him down. The agents let that slip. Remove the tracker. The Soldier does not yet have permission from his handler to do so. He increases his pace slightly. HYDRA is surely looking for him, and most likely already sent more agents now that the ones the Soldier left in the lodge are unresponsive.The mini-handler is wriggling around in the Soldier's grip 56 minutes later. "Puh-ease, no..." The child cries even as his face is buried against the Soldier's neck. "Hurts."The Asset looks down at his prosthetic hand to make sure he is not gripping his new handler too tightly. His prosthesis is strong enough that it could crush the boy's bones.He realizes that his handler is still asleep, meaning the words are most likely not directed at him. Still, he loosens his grip so that he's only exerting enough pressure to keep the boy from falling, and he's careful to avoid touching any of the boy's injuries."No more... p'ease stop, Uncle Vernon..." Potter begs in his sleep, confirming the theory that the boy is not actually addressing the Soldier. The Soldier scowls as he remembers watching the boy being beaten and starved by his relatives.Anyone who tries beating his handler now will find the Soldier's fist in their face. For some reason, his mind conjures images of various alleyways, similar to the vision from before of that unidentified skinny blond person bruised in an alleyway."...'m s-sorry." The boy squirms in his sleep, and some sort of unseen force explodes outward from Potter, trying to force him away from Potter.Something in the Soldier's prosthetic arm gives a sputtering beep, and he tightens his hold to keep his handler from tumbling out of his arms to the ground. MAINTENANCE REQUIRED. The mini-handler wakes with a cry of pain when the metal hand squeezes his fragile body too tightly. He trembles in the Soldier's arms with ragged breaths, letting out little whimpers of pain. The boy immediately presses his knuckles to his mouth to stifle his sobs, looking around fearfully.The Soldier is never permitted to silence its handlers, although its handlers often enforce the Soldier's silence by making it wear a mask on the lower half of its face, like a dog with a muzzle.He puts the boy down and hoicks up the boy's jacket and shirt to examine his torso. There are still marks from the beating Vernon Dursley gave him the previous night, although their healing has progressed further than the Asset would have expected.But there are fresh bruises, the exact size and shape as the Asset's prosthetic fingers on the boy's side. The injury could have been much worse than it is, it easily could have been fatal.It is still mission-noncompliant.PROTECT THE HANDLER. The old voice reminds the Asset of the mission, even though it is obvious he failed.Hurting handlers warrants corrective punishment, even if he had meant to keep the boy from falling, or if the force had somehow affected the arm.Previous incidents of harming handlers have resulted in: beatings, deprivation of food and sleep, electrocution, simulated drowning, or the Chair.The Asset scowls at its flesh fingers, which tremble at the thought of the Chair. It reaches into one of the bags of food to grab the medical kit from the ski lodge. It then drops the bags of food at its handler's feet, shrugs the backpack off its prosthetic shoulder. Pulling the shirt and jacket off the boy, it places the clothes on top of the backpack so they will not get dirty.The Asset offers the two animal crackers in its pocket to its handler. The handler had been carrying them before falling asleep. The handler grabs the crackers, smiling slightly, but stands still when the Soldier starts to doctor the wounds it inadvertently inflicted."Mr. A'set, sir?" The handler bites his small lip worriedly as the Asset wraps more bandages around the boy's already heavily-bandaged torso. Ice would help decrease the swelling, but there is no ice available. "Are you gonna wallop me?""Negative.""W-really?""Affirmative. I am your Batman." The use of the newly assigned codename makes the handler smile, but it falls quickly."B-but you squeezed me an' it hurt." The handler is extremely confused, lower lip trembling."It will not happen again." The Asset lowers its head. "Awaiting punishment."The handler whimpers at the last word. The Asset cannot help wondering what the punishment will be.The new handler does not have access to the Chair. All the boy currently owns are the clothes he is wearing, plus everything the Soldier is carrying, since the Soldier cannot claim ownership of anything, not even the prosthetic arm attached to it.Even the Soldier is owned by its handler.The Asset's mini-handler is not strong enough to deliver any sort of physical punishment, nor does he have any restraints. He could take the deprivation angle when it comes to punishment.Perhaps the mini-handler will take one of the weapons from the Soldier's sheaths or holsters. One of the knives could provide sufficient correction, or a gunshot wound to some non-fatal area. The Asset keeps his hands away from the weapons, leaving them open for the handler to grab, even as some part wonders if a boy as young as Potter would know how to use the weapons.Of course, if the handler chooses to, he could simply kill the Asset. Or even order the Asset to shoot or stab itself, to end its own life for hurting him.The Asset waits for correction. It tries to still the tremor in its own body, but the body refuses, so only the prosthesis stays completely unmoving.1.6 minutes pass.There is a dark shape in the distance, approaching them. Large, but not tall enough to be a person. The deep barking indicates it is a dog.The Asset draws a gun, aiming it but not shooting yet. His handler has not given the order to kill, but seems nervous when he hears the barks, saying something about an Aunt Marge and mean dogs.The Soldier positions himself between the incoming threat and his handler.The shape turns out to be a huge black dog. The lack of a collar, as well as its disheveled, skinny state, indicate that it is a stray. It stops in front of the Soldier, sniffing hopefully at the bags of food.The dog is not one of HYDRA's dogs- it's a different breed, although the Soldier isn't sure exactly which. He only ever saw HYDRA's dogs when they were snarling through their muzzles, ready to attack an enemy when given the command. Which isn't too different from the Soldier, really. He sometimes wears a muzzle as well."No." The Soldier tells it. At least the dog seems to know that command, and leaves the food alone, albeit with a whine. It then eats the animal cracker loosely shaped like a dog in the handler's hand.The boy does not protest the dog eating his food aside from pouting slightly, as if he believes the dog has right to claim it over him.He thinks the boy will shy away from the dog, which is bigger than he is but Potter seems to realize it is doing nothing harmful by sniffing him. The mini-handler cautiously pats the dog's black fur with a bandaged hand, a small smile on his face that grows as the dog licks him.The dog's tongue makes the boy squirm and squeal, and the Soldier is about to pull it away from his handler when he realizes the boy is laughing, even though his glasses are now smeared with dog saliva."Are you a boy dog or girl dog?" Potter asks the dog as if it will actually answer."It is male." The Soldier answers since dogs cannot talk. He wonders if his handler is even old enough to think to determine the animal's sex by looking at its genitalia. "Male means a boy or a man." He clarifies at the boy's blank look.The Soldier stands, silently watching his handler pet the dog. The waterproof coat is effective against dog saliva as well as the boy's own messes. The voice in his head says they need to keep moving to avoid HYDRA, but his handler shows no signs of deciding to continue walking.Right now, they are sitting ducks for HYDRA, and the mission is to avoid HYDRA. MOVE. RELOCATE. "Sir," The Soldier ventures. Handlers usually insist on being addressed that way, especially when the Asset speaks to them without prompting. He never thought he'd be calling a child barely over four years old sir, it seems strange, but it is strange to have a handler so young.The boy doesn't even look up, not that that is uncommon. What is uncommon is that he has not administered correction or asked for a status report."Permission to disable the tracker in my arm." The Soldier says, wondering if the handler will decide he is speaking out of turn and add to his undelivered correction."You have a tractor in your arm?" The child laughs a bit."There is not a tractor in my arm. HYDRA put a tracking device in my arm that reveals our location to them. That is how the agents found us in the lodge." The Asset tells his handler."The scary men?" Potter shudders."Affirmative." The Asset answers, even though he would not have called them scary. "They will track us down again, unless it is disabled or removed.""No scary men." Potter shakes his head fearfully."Is that permission to remove the tracker?" The Asset thinks it is, but it is best to make sure."...Yes?" Potter answers as if he's hoping his answer will please the Asset, as if the Asset's opinion matters when it should not even have opinions.Even though the boy gave a very unsure affirmative, it is still an affirmative.Unfortunately, he does not possess tools beyond the lock-picking kit, which is not suitable for tinkering with his prosthesis.Find tools, becomes a new mission sub-objective.The Asset picks up the bags, though he will not eat until given permission from his handler. He still does not know if the handler will withhold food as punishment.After 5.3 minutes of walking- at the boy's slow pace- the Asset spies a cottage 102.5 meters away. He is approaching the back of it, which means there must be another road ahead. A shed is 10 m away from the cottage. It might contain tools.The shed's door faces away from the house, so the Asset can conceal himself behind the shed as he breaks the almost useless padlock on the shed door. Even an ordinary human could break into this shed without much effort.The shed contains various gardening tools, a lawnmower, three bicycles- one sized for an adult, and two smaller bicycles, a red one, and a bright blue one with dirty white wheels. They are unimportant.There is a workbench, with a messy assortment of tools scattered on it.The Asset strides over to the workbench, frowning at the complete disorder of equipment. Before he can begin repairs, he first needs to arrange the tools in some semblance of order on the pegboard mounted on the wall.The mini-handler sits out of the way in the corner of the shed with the dog, which so far has remained silent. If it barks and alerts the cottage's residents to their presence in the shed, the Asset will silence it.He tests the functionality of his prosthesis. There is a problematic clunking sound and resistance when the Asset twists the arm at the wrist, but other than that, movement is not impaired. He reports this information to the handler.The Asset grabs a flat screwdriver with his flesh arm, gritting his teeth through the flash of pain from the gunshot wound, and starts to pry the metal plates off his prosthesis and expose the arm's innards.He does not know where the tracker is in his prosthesis. Is it in the metal hand, the shoulder, the forearm? It is not under the first plate he tries, so he replaces it- which is tricky with just his injured flesh arm- and tries another.Potter watches in awe, and asks a few questions that he seems to think he will be punished for asking, but the Asset has to answer his superiors. Again, the Asset tells the boy he is not a robot, one of the first things the child asked him.20 minutes pass, consisting of the Asset pulling more metal plates off to find the damn tracker.The handler starts talking quietly to the dog, saying more to the animal in the 20 minutes than he had during the five hours the Soldier had seen him at the Dursley's. He talks quietly enough that someone without enhanced hearing would not be able to make out all the words."Mr A'set's my Batman, 'cos he pr'tects me from da bad guys an' my Aunt and Uncle! He only punished me once, when I was sleeping, an' he helps me get better. He says he's a sol-der too. He's gotta dark costume like Batman, but a star, like a superhero."The red star on the metal shoulder marks the Batman as HYDRA property. Hearing it referred to as a superhero mark is odd, but a star would not be a bad symbol for a superhero if it was emblazoned on the hero's chest.He has a brief flash of a silver star on a blue costumed chest, but the rest of the mental image is blurred.With his other hand, the boy fingers the lightning bolt scar on his own forehead, as if comparing them.Is the boy's scar a mark showing that he belonged to the Dursley family, that they were his handlers before the Soldier assassinated them?After another 6.8 minutes, he finds a small circular device, that is not connected to any of the arm's wiring, as if it had been added as an afterthought. Even though he did not know it was in his arm, he recognizes it is a tracker.He pulls it out with a sense of mission progress. The little power light is off, but crushes it under his boot anyways.The Soldier does not know how much he can do to fix the wrist clunking when it rotates."You hungwy, doggy? Skinny." The mini-handler says, despite being more malnourished than the creature. The Soldier turns to give his handler his full attention, arm still uncovered."You are more malnourished. You should eat." The boy's eyes light up and drift towards the animal crackers sitting at the top of one of the larger bags, and the Asset hands it to him. The boy opens it and munches on one, and the dog tries to grab the box in its teeth.The Asset lifts the boy up and places him on the edge of the workbench. The dog is large enough that it could go on its hind legs and still easily grab the box, but it doesn't."They aren't dog biscuits." Potter mumbles, before pointing at a jar of peanut butter in the bag. "Ripper likes dat." It sounds like Wipper when he says it. "Can we give it to our dog?"So the dog is theirs now. It had already been following them, after all. They are all strays, except the Asset, since he has Potter as his handler. Potter has nobody, since the Asset assassinated his relatives.The Soldier nods and unscrews the cap, handing the plastic jar to the boy. The dog immediately claims the whole thing by sticking its snout directly into the jar and licking at the peanut butter.Once it takes its snout out of the jar, the dog licks at the crumbs of crackers on Potter's hand."You're nicer than Ripper. He bites." Potter says to the dog, actually pronouncing the r correctly. He giggles again as it continues to lick him.Hearing a noise outside, the Asset glances out the small shed window. The family is heading out the front door getting into one of the two cars parked in the driveway. An ordinary civilian family, it seems. A man and woman, both in their early thirties, and two children- a boy and a girl around the same size- twins, perhaps.He watches the family get into the car and drive away. They had not even locked their door, although their boy had been the last one out. They are incompetent.The Soldier starts reattaching the metal plates to his prosthesis. The handler starts squirming around with his legs wound tightly together, hand pressed to his groin.It is obvious he has to urinate, but he makes no move to get down from the workbench."M-mr A's-set, sir, I haf'to..." Potter stammers."You do not have to ask to urinate." The Asset tells him, remembering earlier today when he told the boy not to urinate in his pants. Of course, now that he is a handler, the boy does not need to listen to anything the Asset says."Tank you." Potter bursts out. Before the Asset can even offer to take him into the empty cottage, the boy pulls down his pants, squats over a bucket, and urinates. The boy mumbles something about his cupboard.The Soldier has urinated in a bucket before as well, and does so now, standing up and facing away from his handler. He dumps the bucket's contents outside the shed.By 1836, over 24 hours after first observing Potter at the Dursley's, the Asset finishes reattaching the plates on his prosthesis. His flesh arm is exhausted, and his bandage is stained red. His stomach growls, he has used a lot of energy since he last ate.The boy passes him an animal cracker shaped like a lion, apparently not planning on withholding food to punish him. He continues to pass the Asset food, like he had at the lodge.This handler is very lenient when it comes to correction. He even gives the Soldier another plum.Unlike Potter, the dog does not know how to properly relieve itself and demonstrates this by defecating on the shed floor.The dog seems totally unconcerned while the boy clearly fears punishment, stammering out apologies intermixed with statements about "Aunt Tuna" and Ripper. The handler insists on cleaning it up, but there are few cleaning supplies in the shed.The dog starts eating its own feces, which is disgusting but means Potter stops worrying about cleaning it. Is it normal for dogs to eat fecal matter?Scrunching his nose, the Asset puts the most useful tools in the shed inside his backpack. After gathering up the bags, he checks that the coast is clear and then walks towards the driveway, where the family's second car is parked. Having two cars is excessive, but it is fortunate for the Asset. He quickly hot-wires this one, loads up the boy and the dog in the back (though the car lacks child-safety seats), and puts the car in drive."You never drive the Batmobile." The boy remarks. "Dudley had a toy one but he it bwoke when he pushed it down the stairs, an' Aunt Tuna didn't let me keep it.""Destination?" The Asset asks, and when he gets no response, adds "Sir?"DRIVE. He's commanded in his head, but the handler does not respond, and so the car remains stationary.Avoid HYDRA. The newer voice adds, because the first voice seems unable to say it."Why'd you call me sir?" The handler asks in confusion. "Adults don't call kids sir... not bad worthless boys.""You are the handler. How do you wish to be addressed?" The Soldier asks, frowning slightly. What handler doesn't want to be addressed with sir or ma'am?"...Harry?" The boy whispers as if he doesn't mean to say it aloud, and hunches his shoulders as if the Soldier will get mad at him.Addressing a handler by their first name is extremely disrespectful- the Asset has never done so- but it is what the handler requested to be called. This handler is exceedingly incomprehensible."Affirmative, Harry." The Asset answers, and Harry smiles at the use of his first name."Aunt Tuna an' Uncle Vernon never called me dat. Just 'boy.' 'Freak.'" Harry mutters, and then starts to debate names for the dog. Harry still seems to think that Asset is a real name, but he gave the Asset the new codename of Batman anyways.The Asset is glad that Harry does not consider giving him the codename Blackie. Or Tickly-tongue, when the dog licks Harry again.DRIVE. The mission pounds again in the Asset's ear."Where do you want to go, Harry?" He asks."Away from the scawry guys."That is not a destination, but it is the direction he'd been headed anyways. The Asset puts the car in drive.Unfortunately, they drive the family driving back in their other car, and they recognize their car. The man does not chase him when he floors the gas and speeds away, perhaps because he does not want to involve his family in a car chase, but they are surely going to call the authorities sooner than he would have liked.The police will most likely barricade the road before the Soldier can get anywhere. He cannot turn off anywhere now, so he reluctantly parks the car, unloads the boy and the dog, and sets out on foot once again.Maybe, in the future, he should just try to sneak rides in the backs of delivery trucks or cargo trains and avoid all the hassle of stolen vehicle reports. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Why'd we leave the car?" The mini-handler asks, confused, when waking up 19 minutes after they left it in the road and started walking. As usual, he tenses after asking the question."The family has most likely reported that it was stolen." Which means the police have most likely been notified and have perhaps even barricaded the road by now.POLICE DETECTION IS MISSION-NONCOMPLIANT. The usual voice in his head says.It is a rule for every mission- do not alert the authorities to his presence. It would have been almost impossible to continue driving and avoid them on an empty rural road.They'd take him away. The newer voice adds and points out, unnecessarily, that if taken into police custody, the Asset would be charged with eight first-degree murders, two instances of vehicular theft, kidnapping a child, and his burglary of the Tesco store.And that is just in the past 25.2 hours."We stealed it?" Harry the Handler asks, horrified."Affirmative, Harry." The Asset is still not used to addressing his superior as just "Harry" and cannot fathom his new handler's request. But he must do as his handler wishes and refer to him as requested, as illogical as the wish seems. The name makes Harry the Handler smile, anyways. "We stole it.""But stealing's bad!" Harry the Handler protests, seeming more bold when the Asset had not gotten annoyed at him for talking. "Dudley told Aunt Tuna I stealed his cookie. I didn't, really, but I still got in big twouble!" He shudders and sniffles."Is stealing disallowed for the mission?"Despite his protests, Harry the Handler does not actually forbid the Soldier from stealing in the future. Which is good, because the Soldier has no money, so theft is the only way to obtain anything at the moment."Assassinating the family after they passed us on the road would have stopped them from reporting the theft." The Asset informs him. Then, they could have kept the car, without worrying about police."Asassassanat...?" Harry the Handler asks. "Is dat your other name? Like how Aunt Tuna calls Dudley 'Diddikins'?" The boy snickers slightly."Negative. Assassinate means to kill." He is not sure Harry the Handler really understands what that means, but the boy does not reply.The mini-handler had been scared of the agents' corpses in the lodge. It is odd that Harry the Handler would take control of a very highly skilled assassin and then not make use of that branch of the Asset's skills.Harry the Handler switches topics and starts debating dog names aloud again. The Soldier offers no input. He should not have opinions, after all, and the dog's name does not affect him. At one point, Harry the Handler asks the Soldier for his opinion, but the Soldier just tells the boy that it is entirely his choice.Eventually, Harry the Handler decides to call the black dog 'Nighty' rather than 'Blackie', adding that Batman is the Dark Knight. The Asset wonders if the Dark Knight will replace his Winter Soldier designation, but so far, his handler has not changed any previous codenames, merely assigned him a new one. Or two, possibly, if Dark Knight is to be a codename.The boy's green eyes seem more lively when he talks about Batman to his Batman. The Asset/Batman suspects that Batman is somebody else, in addition to his new codename, but the boy has said that the Asset is Batman. It is confusing.Nighty continues to follow them, most likely because Harry the Handler had fed the dog peanut butter in the shed.After 33.4 minutes of walking, the Asset finds train tracks that he had not explicitly been searching for, despite thinking about taking trains or trucks instead of cars."Where is it?" Harry the Handler asks, looking around in confusion, clearly disappointed that there is not a train on the tracks. "Wanna take the twain.""The location of the train is unknown. If we follow the tracks, we will most likely find a train eventually." That is, if these tracks are still in use. The Asset does not know if they are. FIND A TRAIN. He walks along the tracks for another 1.3 hours, while Harry eventually dozes in his arms and Nighty pads along beside them, occasionally stopping to eat grass for some reason.The Asset uses his lock-picking kit to unlock the handcuff ring from around his flesh wrist. He had removed the cuff from his prosthesis to check under the wrist plates in the shed, but hadn't bothered with the one around his flesh wrist at the time.At 2018, the sound of a train can be heard. It grows louder and the distant form speeds towards them, Harry the Handler blearily wakes up, nuzzling the Asset's neck. When he notices the train approaching, his eyes go wide with excitement.Harry the Handler bounces slightly in the Asset's arms, chanting excitedly. "Twain! Twain!""Are we taking a twain?" It is clear that Harry the Handler still wants to. "'cos you don't have the Batmobile?""Affirmative, Harry."The child smiles and talks about the 'Thomas stories on da telly' that he could hear from his cupboard when Dudley was watching it and how he could hear the whole story, not just people talking.The Asset has no idea what his handler is talking about while he walks along the train tracks, but he listens to every word and stores the information for later. Are Thomas, Annie and Clarabel potential future targets? From the sound of it, they'd more likely become allies or possibly other handlers since Harry the Handler speaks of them fondly.Except, from the boy's words, it seems that Thomas is a train.As the real train nears, the Asset sees it is a freight train instead of a passenger train, which is fortunate in that there will not be other people riding it."Hold tight, Harry." The Asset says quietly, trying not to make it sound like he is commanding his superior."Yessir." The boy nods and wraps his too-thin arms around the Asset's neck while his legs tighten around his waist.The Soldier keeps Harry the Handler tucked tightly to his side and holds onto the scruff of Nighty's neck with his flesh hand.Harry the Handler goes back to bouncing slightly in the Asset's arms, chanting "Twain!" The movement makes the boy more cumbersome, especially in the Soldier's wounded flesh arm, but the Soldier cannot tell his superior to stop. He grits his teeth. Nighty is squirming even more from the Soldier's fist.Jumping onto a moving train would kill any ordinary human, but the Asset has jumped on and off moving vehicles before. The Asset would easily be able to do it alone, but it will be trickier since he is functioning at 65% right now. In the past 24 hours, he has slept only 2.4 hours and sustained a gunshot wound. It is made even more difficult by the fact he is carrying a boy and dog with his injured arm, as well as several bags.Still, the Soldier will not fail. Failure is unacceptable.You miss that window, we're bugs on a windshield. A new voice in his mind says. It is partially incorrect. The Soldier would most likely survive, but Harry the Handler and Nighty would be splattered as the voice said.He will not miss, but this is going to hurt when he makes it, though pain is hardly a novel experience to the Soldier.As the freight train barrels past, the Asset takes a running leap and Harry screams. The scream sounds more excited than scared.Some sort of energy shield briefly forms in front of the Asset, cushioning their impact with the side of the train. It is extremely similar to the shields the enemy asset conjured with the weaponized stick, but the Asset left the stick back at the lodge.Is the shield coming from Harry the Handler? But he does not have the weaponized stick. Perhaps he has those unidentified abilities the enemy asset had, but can do them without the weaponized stick. That could explain why HYDRA wants the boy in the first place.The Soldier assumes that Harry the Handler had not been allowed to make shields in the presence of the Dursley family, and would not have been allowed to shield himself from Vernon Dursley's beating.The Soldier grabs onto one of the bars on the side of the freight car with his metal hand and hangs on tightly, gripping Potter with his flesh arm and the scruff of Nighty's neck with his flesh hand. His bullet wound is in agony as that arm supports the weight of the boy and dog, but he ignores the pain with gritted teeth.Harry the Handler's exhilarated scream is replaced by the sound of the boy retching. It seems as if he will regurgitate again from the sudden lurching speed.Before the Soldier can do anything about that, another vision flashes through his mind, of snowy mountains, and he's hanging from a different train in a similar manner.No, wait, it is not him in the vision, because the man's body he is inhabiting has a real left arm, not a prosthetic one. The Asset does not remember a time when he did not have the prosthesis.The blonde man who was sometimes a child in other recent visions is also clinging to the vision-train. In this vision, he is very muscular and wearing an odd blue suit. He reaches out, shouting "Bucky! Hang on!"Who the hell is Bucky?The Asset yells as he falls from the vision-train in the snowy alps, but snaps out it at the sound of a child screaming.Harry the Handler's scream is now scared instead of excited.He's falling in reality, having let go of the real train, and he only just snags a lower rail on the side of the freight car.The Asset's boots almost skim the ground that's passing at a rate of 65 km/hour under them. MOVE. The Asset digs his metal fingers in and hauls himself, Harry the Handler, and Nighty higher up the side of the speeding freight car. He kicks the car door open, but not hard enough for it to fly off its hinges.He manages to fling himself and the others into the freight car and immediately grabs a gun with his prosthetic hand, scanning the interior and ensuring that there is nobody in it with them. He notes once again that it is fortunate that this is a freight train instead of a passenger train.All that is in here is metal in the form of beams and rods, most likely to be used for construction.The Asset shuts the freight car door, plunging the interior into almost total darkness. Fortunately, the Asset still has his night-vision goggles in his backpack. Harry the Handler is clearly used to the dark, and had probably been locked in the cupboard under the stairs frequently.The Asset's tactical vest smells of vomit, undoubtedly from Harry the Handler, considering the retching sounds he'd made before the Asset was lost in the vision.Nighty appears to have an easily-upset stomach that was upset by jumping against the train, like Harry the Handler. There are flecks of vomit around the dog's mouth, but the dog's vomit seems to have been left on the ground behind them. Which is just as well, because he probably would have tried to eat it like he had with the poop. The dog is disgusting,Harry the Handler continues to cling to the Asset as if they are still dangling from the train and his tiny body quivers. The boy's clinging, as well as the fact that his heartbeat is quick from adrenaline, mean the boy is not asleep, yet his head droops against the Asset's shoulder in exhaustion, resting in his own vomit.Nighty huffs out a whine and walks in circles before laying down on the train floor.The Asset quickly checks Harry the Handler for injuries as the boy's body goes limp with sleep. The handler is unharmed, but he had lost his glasses sometime during the excursion of boarding the moving freight train.He lays the now-sleeping boy next to the dog. Harry the Handler sighs contentedly and snuggles up to Nighty.The Soldier then starts to re-bandage his own gunshot wound, mind racing.The visions are a hinderance to the mission and had put the handler in danger. The Soldier will be punished for almost letting himself and the handler hit the ground. He is still awaiting punishment for gripping Harry the Handler too tightly when it seemed like the boy would fly out of his arms.Why does he keep having visions of the blonde guy who changes ages and levels of physical strength between visions? Who is the blond guy?грузовой вагон, freight car, is the last in the string of trigger words that reset him. Is that at all connected to the vision about falling from a freight car in the snowy alps?It is not important, aside from the fact the visions are distracting to the mission and should be eradicated. If the Soldier ever had visions before, they were almost certainly wiped in the chair.He is malfunctioning, but this handler does not have a chair or cryo tank. He cannot be fixed without a chair, the reset had done nothing to his mind, merely his allegiance.Despite the fact he should not be having visions, the Soldier cannot help wondering about them as he lays down, guarding the freight car door. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Once train stops, the Soldier hears movement in the surrounding area outside. Footsteps approach, causing Nighty to bark loudly, and then a voice comes through the door. "Marionetka!"The Soldier slows his motion of drawing a gun, but still draws and aims it anyways, glancing at Harry the Handler. The boy does not give any orders, just curls up in terror in the corner of the freight car.The Asset moves to position himself between his handler and the freight car door. Nighty stands beside the Asset, growling."Marionetka!" The voice says again.Codeword: once again rejected. There is a 99% likelihood that the man is an enemy of Harry the Handler.It appears that extracting the tracking device from his arm had been pointless. Undoubtedly there was another tracker on his body that he had not known about. Perhaps they'd implanted it in case the first stopped working, or was removed.It does not matter how they found him, just that they did. It is unacceptable. Harry the Handler's mission was to avoid HYDRA, but the Asset knew HYDRA was still looking for him.The agent stupidly comes through the door and is immediately gunned down by the Soldier. The gunshot makes Nighty yelp and Potter whimper, but Potter is safe.That is, until seven heavily armed, heavily armored agents flood into the freight car, all brandishing their weapons at the Soldier.Harry the Handler had seemed to make some sort of energy shield when they jumped onto the train. Since it was similar to the shields the enemy asset conjured to block the Soldier's bullets during the fight, it would not be surprising if Potters would work in such a way.Unless the boy's shields are weaker than the enemy asset's. He is a lot younger, after all, and does not seem to be in any condition to make shields at the moment. The Soldier grits his teeth. He shouldn't be thinking about putting his handler in danger anyways- he should always be the shield between his handler and danger, even if his handler can make shields. MISSION: PROTECT HARRY THE HANDLER. Affirmative. The newer voice says. The mission is also to avoid HYDRA. The first voice neglected to mention that. That part of the mission ended in failure, but the Soldier will protect his handler to his dying breath."Soldier, stand down!" This voice is one the Soldier can actually put a name to.Director Pierce.OBEY. STAND DOWN. The voice in his head says. Pierce, as the director of HYDRA, is the highest ranking person in the world, as far as the Soldier is concerned.We need to get Harry the Handler out of here. The second voice says. The Soldier's finger twitches on the trigger. The three agents' fingers do the same on the triggers of the guns pointed at him.MISSION AND ORDERS ARE INCOMPATIBLE. The first voice counters. The voices obviously no longer agree on the mission.The red-and-gray-haired director steps into the freight car. "Stand down," He says even more firmly.Director Pierce certainly outranks Harry the Handler.Assassinating unidentified agents is one thing, but the Soldier can't even begin to think about assassinating Pierce. He lowers his gun."Marionetka." Pierce eyes the Soldier coldly. Surprisingly, he does not use the string of codewords to reset the Soldier.The Asset lowers its head submissively. "Ready to comply.""What were you doing?" Director Pierce's voice and expression are calm, but he is obviously angry all the same. "We lost contact with the agents we sent after you the first time, and found them dead.""I killed them." The Soldier states flatly. That should be obvious. "They were interfering with the mission and the safety of the handler.""What mission? What handler?""Handler Harry James Potter gave the code word marionetka. He became the new handler. New mission was to protect him and avoid HYDRA."Director Pierce stares at the Asset for 2.4 seconds in disbelief, and then slaps the Asset in the face. Its head snaps to the side, but it does not react otherwise."Abort that mission." Pierce orders.MISSION ABORTED. The first voice says. The second voice starts to say something, but the first repeats, louder MISSION ABORTED."You belong to HYDRA, you don't decide to follow the orders of a child and murder your handlers." Pierce is telling the Asset. The Asset listens to the director with his full attention. "He is not your superior. Him giving the command word meant nothing, he probably just repeated what the agents said."The Asset had briefly wondered about that, before thinking he should not question his (now former) mini-handler.HYDRA still claims ownership over the Soldier. He had been AWOL, it is natural they would retrieve him, he thinks as they read his trigger words again. It is natural that they are angry about him defecting, are angry that Harry the Handler had become a handler in the first place. He was supposed to be the target, the package."Targets do not become handlers." Pierce tells him. "Understood?""Understood, sir."He is HYDRA's asset again, not Potter's. The boy was evidently never truly a handler in the first place. The Asset has been going through a lot of handlers the past day.He should have delivered Potter to begin with. If he had, Potter never would have had the opportunity to temporarily change the mission and become a handler. In the end, it didn't matter that he tried to run with Potter.The boy is in HYDRA's hands anyways, and now the Asset is facing severe punishment in his future. He tries not to tremble.The Soldier is once again cuffed- this time with much sturdier restraints that even its enhanced body might have trouble breaking out of. These agents are smarter. They frisk the Soldier thoroughly and relieve it of all his weapons, even the knife in its boot.One of the agents walks past the Soldier to grab the boy.Potter lets out a terrified sound, and Nighty sinks his teeth into the agent's leg, growling. The agent curses loudly and tries to shake the dog off.Pierce calmly draws his own gun and shoots the dog in the head."Nighty!" Potter screams. Unlike when he'd been under the bed during the Soldier's fight in the lodge, Potter can see everything going on here. He may not entirely understand what just happened, but it's clear he knows something is wrong with the dog.The child seems to want to crawl towards the dog, as if the dog has merely gone to sleep, but he's obviously to scared to go any closer to the agent.Not that it matters, since the agent walks to Potter and picks him up.Potter reaches out towards the Asset pleadingly, green eyes brimming with tears as small whimpers escape his throat. As soon as he opens his mouth to speak, the agent clamps a hand over it."He is a target. Nothing more." Pierce repeats to the handcuffed Soldier. "Come."His metal arm whirs slightly as he follows his superiors out of the freight car and to the waiting cars that the agents drove.Pierce leads the Asset towards one car, while the agent carrying Potter heads towards another one. They are being separated."Where are you taking him?" The Asset asks."That is none of your concern, Soldier." Pierce says testily. The Soldier is somewhat surprised he had not gotten slapped for speaking out of turn.He is not reassured as he's shoved into the back of the car. It should not be thinking about Potter. The boy's fate should not matter. In the end, the mission is complete, even if the Asset had not been the one to complete it.Potter is none of the Soldier's concern, but he is only a child. He should not have to go through what the Soldier goes through. He wonders if they're going to make Potter into another asset, if they know about the boy's ability to make shields without a weaponized stick."He has lacerations on his back and burns on his hands as well as bruises." Nobody replies, and the Soldier adds quietly, "Don't hurt him more." He himself had already accidentally hurt the boy by holding him with too much force during a vision. The boy had been hurt a lot at the Dursley residence.This time, he is slapped and ordered to shut up.The Soldier is chained up facing the wall, shirtless, deep in a HYDRA base. He has not seen Potter since they were put into separate cars. The boy could be in this base, or on the other side of the world, for all the Soldier knows.The Asset has no reason to know where the boy is. The boy should not even be in his thoughts, yet the Asset cannot stop.A whip cracks and tears into his back, and he grits his teeth, Potter no longer on his mind, only pain. This is all part of his punishment. He should have never disobeyed his orders or tried to go against HYDRA.Pierce, standing behind him and watching him as he's whipped, reminds the Asset of this. As if he didn't already know.Potter was a more favorable handler, despite being barely four years old and never being a handler, according to Pierce.The Asset stays silent for the first fifteen lashes during his whipping, but afterwards can no longer hold back the screams. Being enhanced does not make this any less painful as they continue to fall.He soon loses count of how many lashes he's received in his haze of agony, but the only reason he doesn't collapse to a heap on the ground is because he's still chained to the wall.Then, they hose his bloody, raw back off with a powerful jet of water, bringing new waves of agony.After an eternity, they unchain him and drag him bodily from the room.The Soldier is almost relieved to be taken to the Chair, but being strapped down still sends his heartbeat racing and the back of the chair is extremely painful against his abused back.Being wiped is as unpleasant as ever, and the Soldier screams through his mouth guard as the Chair shoots jolts of agony through his face until his mind is blank.He jerks awake, gasping, when a body's weight presses down on him and something cold nudges his cheek.The Soldier freezes, metal hand whirring as its plates shift. He grabs the attacker by the back of their neck (the front is too close to his own neck to grab easily).Flipping over, he positions himself so he has the threat pinned to the floor with his knees on its back, prosthetic hand grabbing a gun and pointing it at the enemy. Should he just shoot the enemy now, or wait long enough to question-The dog under him tries to growl and bite, but is hampered by the Soldier's knee pressing down on its back.The Soldier pauses. It is the black dog. Nighty. But it had been shot.The Asset looks around his surroundings. His night vision goggles reveal the interior of the freight car, the dog pinned under him, and Potter watching him with wide green eyes. "Don't hurt Nighty..." Potter says in a hushed voice, clearly thinking the Asset will attack him next.It was a dream, he realizes. Pierce did not find him (although he's undoubtedly looking) and he is not being punished at the HYDRA base. Nighty is still alive, and the boy is still with the Asset.He hopes it will stay that way. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Despite realizing he is in the freight train instead of a HYDRA base, the Asset's heart hammers and his breathing falters as images from the dream continue to flash through his head. The punishment scene wasn't unfamiliar, and his back burns with phantom pain.THE ASSET DESERVES PUNISHMENT FOR DEFECTING AND- The first voice in his head starts to say, sounding slightly disoriented.Negative. HYDRA cannot find us like that. The second, newer voice, interrupts. The mission is to keep Harry Potter safe. The boy needs the Asset, and he will not be safe with HYDRA. The Asset supposes that 'he' could apply to both of them- neither would be safe in HYDRA's clutches.Perhaps, like in the dream, HYDRA has additional ways to track the Asset's location, instead of only having the device in his prosthesis. Removing just that tracker could have been useless if there is another he had not dealt with. They could be headed towards him now, ready to drag him and Harry the Handler back to a HYDRA base for real...The Soldier quickly frisks himself for any more tracking devices. Failing to do so before, in the shed, was a major tactical error.He lets out a small exhale when he finds no devices clipped to his clothes or anywhere on his body. His HYDRA handlers would not have expected the tracker in his prosthesis to be removed, and certainly not by the Soldier himself. They did not anticipate the possibility of their Asset defecting.So HYDRA doesn't have a direct pinpoint on his location anymore, but it would be preposterous and stupid to assume that HYDRA is not searching for the Soldier and the boy in other ways.Harry the Handler sits 3.3 meters away from the Asset, hugging Nighty the dog and watching the Asset's every move worriedly. His vision is obviously worse without his glasses, but he seems used to the dark. Then again, the Soldier is fairly certain the boy had been locked under the stairs at the Dursley house was a regular occurrence."Are you hurt, Nighty?" The boy whispers as he hugs the dog, even though asking a dog anything is pointless."He was pinned down but sustained no permanent injuries." The Asset replies after a bit, even though his handler was addressing the dog, not him.Technically, that is true, but the Asset had been very close to shooting the dog when he first woke up, before Harry the Handler had brought him out of his haze. He is certain the real Harry would have reacted in similar horror to Nighty being shot to the Harry in the Asset's dream."Nighty's sowwrry." Harry the Handler almost sobs. "I told him not to, but..." The child glances towards something worriedly, and it's only now that the Soldier notices that the dog had gotten into their food stash while he was sleeping.A few packs of sausages have been ripped open and devoured by Nighty (including some of the plastic wrapping), and the box of Harry's favorite animal biscuits has been torn apart, the contents scattered and broken.He wonders if Harry had eaten some of the food as well. The boy is trembling slightly, and it isn't hard to guess that he'd tried to eat food in secret at the Dursley's' and was most likely caught and punished. Mrs. Dursley had been watching the boy to make sure he hadn't stolen food."Pinning the dog- Nighty- down was not a punishment for eating food. The Batman was unaware of its surroundings. " His explanation is not an excuse. There is no excuse. He should not have been so unaware, he should not have lashed out blindly just because of a nightmare. What if it had been Harry the Handler who'd touched him, and he'd pinned the boy down instead?If he had attacked a HYDRA agent like that upon waking- not that he has much experience with sleep, and the cryo tank doesn't count- he would have been punished.Harry the Handler is not punishing him for lashing out at Nighty. In fact, it is clear the mini-handler is wondering if the Asset will attack him, the same way he'd just attacked Nighty. Yet, the boy does not speak.It is odd, having a handler be so worried around the Asset. Well, sometimes lower-level HYDRA handlers seemed nervous around him, but they were quick to assert their dominance. Harry the Handler has not done that at all.The Asset stills, posturing his body in a non-threatening manner, crouched so he won't be looming over the tiny child."The Batman will not attack Nighty the dog now, or you, Harry." The Soldier speaks quietly, using the boy's codename for him. It is a better designation than Nighty, at least, the Soldier thinks. He is not supposed to have opinions.He supposes that promise isn't entirely true. He hadn't consciously hurt the dog, after all."More malfunctions to report: sleeping without permission and blindly attacking." He states flatly, even though he hadn't been ordered to give a status report. What if he attacks Harry the Handler unintentionally in another state of... whatever that was. Panic? No, the Asset was not panicking when he first woke. The Asset does not panic, he does not feel. He is merely a weapon.Harry the Handler just stares at him warily."The mission is to... avoid HYDRA, to keep you safe." The Soldier says slowly.HYDRA CONTROLS THE WINTER SOLDIER. The voice in his head supplies. It is true. He's been the Fist of HYDRA for as long as he can remember. They have the trigger words, the command words. They could override Potter's control over him, with more powerful trigger words than Marionetka.They could make him hurt or kill Harry the Handler, if they overrode the boy's command. It would be only one more kill on his long list- which is probably even longer than the Soldier consciously remembers- but his brain protests the idea of hurting the child, much more so than when he'd strangled the Dursley boy.They could make him hurt Harry and then forget about him, with the chair.He does not want to go through the chair again. The few memories in his head will be lost to him, yet he will still know how to kill. He will lose everything. He does not know why that Bucky man's visions- memories?- are in his head. He does not know the blonde guy in those visions who went from extremely skinny to extremely muscular, but for some reason does not want to lose the images of him.What the Soldier wants and doesn't want is meaningless. He should not have opinions."If they find us, they will hurt you, Harry." The Soldier says. They'd hurt him, too, but there's no reason to even mention that."Like Uncle Vernon?" Harry whispers."You would be hurt even more than you were with the Dursleys." The Asset replies, and for some reason saying that makes him hurt inside. Harry sniffles."No hurt, p'ease..." Harry the Handler begs.In the dream, Pierce had said that Harry was not an official handler, that targets should not become handlers. Especially when they simply repeat a codeword that official handlers had just used on the Soldier.The Soldier is sure that the real Pierce would say the same thing. Somehow, that changes nothing."You are better as a handler than a target, Harry." The Asset speaks quietly. Being under Harry's command is much less painful than his time serving HYDRA. For some bizarre reason, the boy has even smiled at him a few times over the past day.Looking extremely confused, Harry raises his hands. Perhaps his vocabulary does not even include the word handler.The boy doesn't say anything, and the conversation stops, followed by 3.6 minutes of silence."Nighty," The child whispers worriedly to the canine, and the Asset would not have heard him without enhanced hearing. "I can't find my glasses...""Your glasses fell off when we were boarding the train, Harry." The Soldier answers. In retrospect, the Soldier should have made sure the glasses were safe before jumping onto the train. It is his fault they are lost and most likely broken.Harry the Handler startles slightly and lets out a little squeak, obviously thinking he hadn't been heard by anyone but the dog. "I d-didn't mean to lose them, Mr. A'set, sir. Aun' Tuna'll be angwy.""Your aunt will not find out. She will not be angry." The Soldier wonders how bad his handler's vision is without corrective lenses. Had the lenses even been prescribed properly for his eyes? The glasses themselves had been in terrible shape, bent and taped together."Should obtaining new glasses be a new sub-mission objective?" The Asset's question is met with a blank look from the boy. "Do you need new glasses, Harry?""No, sir, 'm fine." The boy hastens to assure him, apparently under the impression that the Soldier will be mad if he tells the truth by admitting that he needs a new pair.The Soldier frowns. His handler is lying. He truly does need the eyewear, yet he says otherwise. It does not make sense, handlers always tell him exactly what they want him to do. Does Harry not want to waste time getting it, and instead focus on getting as far away from the shed, the last place HYDRA had been able to track their location?The train starts to slow down.It seems like it's going to stop, so the freight train must be approaching some sort of station or warehouse to unload its cargo.Avoid areas of scheduled train stops. The newer, previously defective voice in his head says. It's not as if Pierce and HYDRA agents will actually be waiting for him at the station like they were in the dream. That is not why the voice suggested avoiding the station, surely.But if someone was looking for him, they would look wherever the train stops. Getting off early would decrease the likelihood of being detected, even by the workers who will be unloading the train.DETECTION IS MISSION NONCOMPLIANT. That is generally a rule for all missions. The Winter Soldier is supposed to be a secret, after all.It is unlikely that train workers would be undercover HYDRA agents, but it would still be a bad idea to let himself be seen by somebody. He usually kills any witnesses, but he does not think Harry the Handler approves of killing.They should get off the train, yet, it is up to his handler, not the voices in his head, to decide what to do."Awaiting orders." Harry the Handler doesn't respond. "Should we get off the train?""Nighty wants to go." Sure enough, the dog is scratching at the freight car door.The Asset gathers the bags, the boy, and the dog, and leaps out of the train.The same vision of falling from a train flashes through the Asset's mind, but he is still aware of his surroundings. Perhaps it is due to the vision, but it seems they are falling through the air much slower than gravity would dictate. Harry shrieks with laughter.He doesn't stumble when he lands, but he is closer to stumbling than he should ever be. He lets go of Nighty as soon as he touches down without really realizing it, but keeps his handler tucked to his side with his flesh arm."You flewed!" Harry the Handler's green eyes are wide with something like awe as he laughs delightedly. Fortunately, nobody had thrown up when they got off the train.The Asset is 98.6% sure that HYDRA has not equipped him with the power of flight. He would have guessed that the child somehow temporarily lessened the effects of gravity. Similarly, he thinks it was the child who made the shield as he jumped on the train. It certainly wasn't the dog, and probably wasn't the Asset, although making shields would be a very useful skill for the Asset to have.The Soldier sees two people walking on the street despite the time being 0145, but they are both inebriated. Threat assessment: low. It would be easy to incapacitate them, even without weapons.No chance of blending in like this, Soldier. The newer voice in his head says.The Soldier knows he will attract unwanted attention if he walks around as he is right now. He's heavily armed with a gleaming prosthetic arm, which is far too distinctive. He's also covered in Harry's vomit and accompanied by an even more disgusting dog.The blue sweatshirt he'd taken during his earlier Tesco theft is back at the ski lodge, meaning he'll have to acquire a new shirt to cover his prosthesis. A shirt that isn't stained with blood, vomit and mucus."I would highly recommend disguises." He says, because of course he cannot tell his handler that they have to get them. His handler decides what they have to do, just like he decides what the Soldier wears.Except his handler does not answer."This way, we will not attract unnecessary attention. It will be harder to find us.""So da mean bad guys won't find us?""It will make it harder for them." The Asset replies.His guns and knives are concealed, so they should not attract attention.It turns out there is another Tesco store- there seem to be a lot of Tesco stores of various sizes- a mere 2.25 km away.Nighty does not seem particularly concerned with sticking with them once they are in the store. The dog sniffs the ground and heads towards the meat department, although the Asset is guessing that the meat hasn't been delivered for the day yet.The Asset heads with his mini-handler towards the clothing department."Batman!" Harry the Handler points suddenly.The boy is pointing at a shirt depicting fake muscles under a dark suit with a vaguely bat-shaped symbol emblazoned on the chest. Like some sort of superhero, like that blonde man in the somewhat ridiculous red, white and blue suit.Batman is the Winter Soldier's new codename, and it's obvious that his mini-handler is addressing him, but the Soldier thinks that the object of his handler's attention might have something to do with Batman as well. From things Harry has said, it's obvious there's some other Batman in addition to the Asset."It's Batman." Harry says, confirming the theory about the shirt.The Asset wears what his handler chooses, so he pulls one of the Batman shirts from the rack and pulls off his older, stained shirt.Harry stares at the mass of scars where the Asset's prosthetic arm is connected to the rest of his body, looking almost sad, even though the Asset's scars and pain do not matter at all.The Asset slips the new shirt on. It has a strange hood that covers the top half of his face and has weird pointy bat ears. At least it hides his hair and makes him less recognizable.Potter laughs and claps his hands."You're Batman!""Is shaving preferable for disguises?" The Asset asks as they walk towards the aisle with personal care products."Batman doesn't have hair there." Harry points at the Asset's chin.Considering that the Asset has the new codename of Batman and is now wearing what the Batman apparently wears, he figures the child would want him to look like Batman in that regard, even if he doesn't directly say it.Apparently, they make electric razors- somehow the Asset thinks they didn't at some point in his life, and he definitely feels more used to the standard blades and shaving cream. He has a brief olfactory memory of some sort of cream he must have used in the past,Potter has wandered towards the toy aisles while the Asset has been shaving.On a whim, the Asset grabs some notebooks and pencils and starts writing down the visions he's experienced.Harry the Handler does not seem to think the visions of the Bucky person's memories are critical mission info, but the Asset writes them down anyways. There has to be some reason they've been popping in his head.Once the Asset is done, he finds Harry staring longingly at wooden toy train set with 'Thomas' written on the box. Why do these stupid anthropomorphic trains keep popping up? The Asset is certain that these are toys of the Thomas the boy was talking about."I wasn't looking!" Harry quickly lies, when the Asset reaches for the box. His handler clearly wants it, but the boy shakes his head frantically and runs away from the toys as if he's done something horrible.The Asset leaves the Thomas set on the shelf and follows his mini-handler."Nighty needs dog stuff." Harry is actually trying to distract the Asset from that odd incident.Apparently the dog is part of the mission now.The Asset collects Nighty from the meat counter and then heads towards the pet aisle.Harry the Handler points to food and water bowls, dog food, and dog biscuits on the shelves, asking Nighty each time if the items he selects are what the dog wants. The dog doesn't answer, of course, attention focused on gnawing on a rawhide bone he'd pulled from a shelf.Potter watches the Asset add all the items to their cart. "And bwandy.""Brandy." The Soldier repeats blandly, as if he's assessing he heard it right, instead of questioning his superior."Ripper drinked it with Aunt Marge."Somehow, the Asset finds this strange, but he doesn't comment. There's an aisle with all sorts of alcoholic beverages. The Asset has a vague memory of beer for some reason, even though he doesn't think any of his handlers would have given it to him. Why waste beer on a weapon?Regardless of the strangeness, the Asset picks up a bottle of brandy.He also grabs some first aid kits and other medical supplies. He's already used up most of the bandages from the first-aid kit he'd taken from the Dursley's."Permission to check you over," The Asset requests. After all, it is always an unspoken order to see to the safety of his handlers. He had accidentally bruised the boy's torso earlier, but has still not been punished for that.Harry the Handler nods slightly, as if he's trying to figure out what answer the Asset wants to hear. The Asset tries to be as gentle as possible, even though he really just lifts the boy's shirt to inspect his injuries. The boy remains stiff and wary, waiting for the Soldier to hurt him (which he will not do intentionally, as long as the boy is his handler)."Are you gonna make me better again?" Harry the Handler looks down at his bandaged hands, clearly remembering the Asset patching up his injuries when he first found the boy."You are healing quickly." The Asset replies, as he unwraps and inspects Harry's hands.The boy's injuries are healing faster than they should. Does Harry the Handler have enhanced healing as well, like the Asset? Perhaps HYDRA wanted the boy for that, as well as his powers that let him make a shield when jumping onto the side of the train?They head back outside. The Asset is almost unrecognizable now. The weird Batman hood is actually a good disguise."Where do you want to go now, Harry?"This mission is not standard procedure. He does not think Harry will be sending him out to kill his enemies- the boy hadn't even ordered him to kill the HYDRA agents in the lodge, but that had been the only way to help his mini-handler.The Asset does not remember ever working as long-term protection detail, but that seems to be his mission with Harry the Handler.It is an odd thought, knowing that he will not be stored in cryo or wiped when under Potter's command.Before Harry answers, Nighty barks. An owl flies towards them and drops a letter on the boy's head.What the hell. Since when did owls carry mail?Harry the Handler looks as if he does not know whether to be scared or not, and the Asset picks up the letter to make sure there is not some sort of letter bomb. The owl screeches at him, and the Asset barely has time to read Harry Potter's name on the envelope before the mission is compromised.Severus hadn't thought he'd be on a broomstick following an owl, but he is, and he hates it.They hadn't found any real sign of Potter near the lodge- the kidnapping assassin had vacated the lodge with the boy presumably in tow sometime before their arrivalThey'd come up with the idea to use an owl to find the boy, since one doesn't need to write an exact address to owl somebody. Really, they should have thought of this earlier, instead of trying to track the assassin with that 'GPS' device.Dumbledore had needed to temporarily revoke some sort of charm he'd cast that redirected all owls sent to Potter. Apparently, the boy hadn't been getting all the fan mail and presents sent by well-wishers the past couple years. No doubt the brat's relatives spoiled him rotten anyways, even if Petunia had been jealous of Lily growing up.Severus isn't particularly good at flying- certainly not good enough to ever hope to play Quidditch- but he is competent enough to stay in the air and avoid crashing.Severus is wearing an invisibility cloak that Dumbledore produced from somewhere (which is odd, because Dumbledore himself doesn't need a cloak to be invisible, as he is at the moment) and Dumbledore has made himself invisible without a cloak.A large black dog barks in Severus and Dumbledore's direction, or maybe it's barking at the owl. Can it smell them? The wind is, inconveniently, blowing their scent in the dog's direction.The owl swoops down and drops the letter near Potter. The assassin, who is now dressed rather ridiculously, goes to pick it up, but the owl screeches at him, knowing it's for Potter and not that man.Severus smirks slightly, because this time, the assassin has no idea he is here. He casts a silent Petrificus Totalus from underneath his cloak, and the man snaps still like a statue, not having a chance to fight back.This is what should have happened that first night, Severus thinks viciously as he stares down at the now statue-like assassin. He's tempted to dangle this man upside down in the air by his ankle with Severus' self-invented Levicorpus, or jinx him into oblivion some other way. This man had caused Severus a lot of grief and some rather painful bruising by throwing him into a slide.Instead, he casts Expelliarmus. Numerous guns and knives fly away from the assassin's body.The assassin's eyes are furious as they dart around, looking for an attacker.Potter is a lot smaller than Severus had realized during his very brief glimpse of the boy before fighting the assassin. It's hard to believe he just turned four, when he looks like a child half his age. His tiny face is gaunt, with prominent cheekbones.Even if he hasn't eaten at all since getting kidnapped, the boy would not be this underweight. No, he's clearly been malnourished for a while, and Severus has a feeling maybe his relatives weren't as doting as he'd assumed."Mr. A'set, Batman?" The child asks his petrified kidnapper. "We go to sleep now?"He goes to imitate the man and lie down, hugging the dog tightly but putting less distance between himself and his kidnapper than Severus would have expected.Perhaps the boy is suffering from what muggles call Stockholm Syndrome.The assassin glares murderously at the two wizards. He's not moving, obviously, but Severus is positive he's trying to move and break the spell. The prosthetic arm whirs loudly, but even the mechanical limb is bound by the spell.Now that the kidnapper is taken care of, Severus removes the invisibility cloak and Dumbledore undoes his own invisibility spell. Potter clearly recognizes Severus, probably having seen him from the car the other night.Potter looks at Severus as if he is scarier than the assassin. Severus has no qualms about the little brat having a healthy dose of fear of him- hopefully it will lead to a level of respect his blasted father never showed Severus- but why is he not acting scared of his kidnapper? From what the two escorts have revealed, the man is a deadly assassin with no emotions.Dumbledore approaches Potter, smiling kindly. "You are safe now, Harry." The old man leans to pick the child up. Potter looks unsurely at Dumbledore and glances back at the assassin.Dumbledore also grabs ahold of the dog, which Severus would have left behind.Severus vows that no matter what, neither the boy nor the dog are going to end up anywhere near Severus' quarters or labs. He just rescued the brat, and hopefully he'll be handed off to someone else now.Severus grabs the assassin.Dumbledore apparates them to Hogwarts, and Severus levitates the assassin down to the dungeons, ignoring Potter reaching out for the floating, petrified man.Hopefully the assassin will reveal more information than the two other kidnappers that Severus interrogated. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The Asset falls stiffly to the pavement of the Tesco parking lot. He would think he'd been hit by some sort of sedative dart- perhaps HYDRA has caught up to him for real- but he had not felt anything pierce his skin.The Asset finds himself paralyzed. It's somewhat similar to the sensation of his body freezing in the cryogenic tank that he experiences for the few seconds before unconsciousness, except without the cold. THE ASSET IS NOT FUNCTIONING. MISSION COMPROMISED. CANNOT PROTECT HARRY THE HANDLER. That really could have gone without the voice saying it, the Asset thinks as he tries to overcome his paralysis. The escorts who were supposed to drive the Asset and Harry back to the plane had been paralyzed by the enemy asset's weaponized stick, but the enemy asset is nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he teleported behind them, and is simply keeping out of the Soldier's sight range.Like the escorts, the Asset can only move his eyes.Then, all of the Asset's weapons fly away from him, except for the prosthesis. The servos whir, but the metal arm is paralyzed as well."Batman?" Harry the Handler asks, standing in the middle of the food that had fallen out of one of their bags. He seems unharmed by the shattered brandy bottles, fortunately, although Nighty seems to have stepped in one of them and the dog lets out a pained whimper. "Mr. A'set?" RESPOND. The Soldier cannot respond to his handler like he is supposed to. "We go to sleep now?" The boy asks, as if he decided to sleep without his handler's permission. Does he not see that his eyes are open? The boy's eyesight seems terrible without his glasses.The greasy-haired enemy asset that he had rendered unconscious suddenly appears as if from behind an invisible curtain, very conscious this time. He's holding a cloak, which is apparently what made him invisible The cloak is better camouflage than the Asset has ever seen. It's as if he was actually invisible under the cloak.The man is also holding a broomstick, which is a poor choice of weapon, but perhaps he had no other choice after the Asset took his weaponized stick. The Asset wonders if it is a larger version of a weaponized stick, disguised to look ordinary.No, it seems the enemy asset has his weaponized stick back. It could have been a different weaponized stick than the one he took, except the enemy asset is currently sneering at him for having dared to take it.The Soldier reflects that he really should have finished off this enemy asset, instead of just rendering the man unconscious during their fight the previous night. No witnesses has been a standing order for every mission, so why had he left this man alive?That poor decision really came back to bite him in the ass; the man had come back with reinforcements.Then, a robed old man with silvery hair and a beard that both reach his waist pops out of nowhere, but he's not holding a cloak. When did they invent cloaks that grant invisibility, as well as cloakless methods, and why does the Asset not have it? Skilled as he may be at avoiding detection, it would be easier if he could turn invisible as well.What are these men, wizards? The enemy asset had done some impossible things, much like Harry the Handler. Is Harry a wizard too? Is that why these two are coming after them?The enemy asset grabs the Soldier, while the old man takes Harry the Handler's hand and grabs onto Nighty the dog. "You are safe now, Harry." The old man says. The enemy asset grabs onto the old man's arm, still holding onto the Soldier, the cloak and the broomstick.Suddenly, he Asset feels a sensation like a hook grabbing his navel, and then he's being squeezed through a tiny hole. It's very unpleasant and rather nauseating, but he does not expel his stomach's contents. He couldn't right now, his jaw is locked shut.Besides, even this sensation isn't as painful as a lot of what he's experienced in HYDRA facilities or even in the field. The Asset is used to pain, and his pain is unimportant.The Soldier shoves those thoughts aside and focuses on his new surroundings when the squeezing and spinning stops.He's in an entirely different place than the Tesco parking lot. He's inside some sort of office that looks like it was combined with a castle. There's a large desk and a lot of books, and strange instruments that probably are not used for torture. Sitting on a perch is a red bird of an unknown species.The enemy asset had teleported them, which he'd done during their fight. Or was it the old man?The Asset hears his handler expelling his stomach's contents yet again. He cannot fault the boy for doing so after that experience. He hears Nighty the dog doing the same.The Soldier would snarl if he could move his mouth. The old man has no right to touch the Soldier's handler, let alone hurt him with the teleporting. Nighty the dog should bite the old man so he will let go of Harry the Handler, but the dog does not do this.Hey, The new voice says Pick on someone your own size.The Asset would have phrased it differently than the new voice, but he understands the sentiment. The man needs to get his hands off Harry the Handler, now.The Asset can only glare at the men. Both men seem immune to his glare.The enemy asset places the broomstick against a wall, and then does something with his weaponized stick that makes the Asset float upright in midair, though his boots still brush the ground.The enemy asset starts to walk out of the office, down a spiral staircase that moves like an escalator, leaving Harry the Handler, Nighty, and the old man behind. The Soldier follows unwillingly in midair as if pulled by an invisible rope. He can hear Harry the Handler call out to him, but he can't do a damned thing about it as he's led away.He even hears his handler trip and fall on the stone floor, letting out a slight whimper. That is unacceptable. The handler should not be injured. Then they reach the bottom of the spiral staircase, where there is a statue of a winged creature, and the Asset can no longer hear his handler.The enemy asset seems completely unconcerned that he occasionally bumps or scrapes the Asset's floating body against the stone walls. There is a light shining out of the end of the weaponized stick that the Asset had left behind in the lodge. Perhaps the weaponized stick had not been a tracking device, after all, as this enemy asset still found them after the Soldier ditched the weaponized stick.He scans his surroundings as much as he can without turning his head, memorizing the route they're taking so, once he escapes, he can make it back to the last known location of his handler. The old man had better not move his handler far away from that office.What is the old man planning on doing to his handler? Will he hurt the boy, as HYDRA would? If that old man lays a finger on Harry, the Asset will kill him. He just has to be able to move.The Soldier does not waste energy trying to move when he knows that he is somehow immobilized. As soon as this invisible force stops incapacitating him, he will strike.He notices some rather odd things are happening in this place, but considering the odd things the two possible-wizards do, it is not surprising. The paintings are moving, rather like the movie screens, except they clearly aren't screens. The subjects of the paintings shout out to the Asset and the enemy asset as they walk. Some of them shout out at the enemy asset to put the light on his "wand" out. Others inquire as to who the Soldier is.The enemy asset does not answer the paintings. Will they act as spies and alert the enemy asset or the old man of the Soldier's location, if he escapes?The stairs move, too. Not like an escalator, because whole sections of stairs simply turn, changing which door they lead to. It is a security measure that the Soldier has not encountered until now. Who controls the stairs? The paintings everywhere on these staircases? There is no way the Soldier would be able to avoid detection.He's led floating through several stone corridors and then down more stairs. These stairs are dark and cold and surrounded by walls unlike the open stairs above. It gets colder the further they descend, and the Asset is reminded of some bases he's been kept in.He's finally led into a room that looks quite like a dungeon. The levitation ceases and he falls unceremoniously to the floor, still paralyzed. The enemy asset looms over him, looking rather like the Asset with long dark hair, dark clothes, and an intimidating expression.It's obvious the man is planning on interrogating or torturing the Soldier. Both, probably. The Soldier doesn't know what methods or techniques the enemy asset will use, and the Soldier can think of hundreds of ways to inflict pain on targets (all of them are things he is itching to do to the enemy asset). What can the man do to torture people? Are weaponized sticks create torture methods even more effective than HYDRA's, or the Asset's own methods?He notes that his captor looks rather tired, as if he hasn't slept much more than the Asset has, aside from that one stint of unconsciousness. The man is probably not enhanced to require less sleep, even with a powerful weaponized stick. It is good he seems tired, as he will likely be slower to react and more likely to make mistakes or overlook things, making the possibility of escape more likely.There are numerous jars and vials filled with strange-looking liquids and substances lining the shelves on the walls. The Asset wonders how many of them are poisonous, and whether they will be used on him. He should be immune to most poisons, but this man somehow managed to paralyze him and can make things float and do other impossible things.The enemy asset flicks his weaponized stick, and ropes appear out of thin air, wrapping themselves around the Soldier to bind him tightly.This is not like the restraints that strap him to the Chair or operating tables. The ropes seem pointless, as he's still paralyzed."Don't try anything stupid. You won't win this time." The enemy asset sneers down at him.Suddenly, the Asset's paralysis is gone. He supposes the reason the man bothered to release him from paralysis is because he's about to be interrogated and he'd been unable to talk before.Breaking through the ropes binding him should be easy. He'll be one step closer to returning to his handler, although he still doesn't know how to avoid the paintings' eyes. But he pretends to struggle ineffectively against his bindings. When the man turns his back, expecting the Soldier to be neutralized, he'll break them and strike. The enemy asset won't know what hit him.Except the ropes squeeze him tighter when he pretends to struggle, until he's no longer pretending to break out. Even with his enhanced strength, he can't break through them.Of course the weaponized stick would be able to make ropes that even he can't break. Weaponized sticks are extremely annoying in the hands of enemies. This man turns his back to the Asset.His prosthetic arm whirs slightly, and one of the plates shifts. The Asset uses the edge of the sharp metal plate to cut at the rope as he jerks his arms outwards. The ropes break, falling to the floor, and he silently sprints towards the enemy asset. This time, he won't leave him alive.However, the enemy asset has turned around, perhaps hearing the servos whir. He points his weaponized stick at the Soldier, who flips a table covered in glass vials and a cauldron to use as a shield. The vials shatter on the stone floor.The man flicks his stick again, and the table suddenly turns into water, which makes a huge puddle at the Soldier's feet. He almost slips in it, which should not happen. Such clumsiness would be punished by HYDRA agents.Suddenly, the Soldier is hoisted into the air by his ankle and is left dangling by an unseen force. He tries to reach for some sort of weapon, but anything he could possibly use has already flown out of his reach. Trying to pull his hoisted leg out of whatever is holding it is ineffective.He dangles by his ankle, waiting for the man to get close enough for him to strike, but the man isn't that stupid."I said not to try anything stupid." The man sneers. "I may have underestimated you before, but trust me, it won't happen again."With another flick of the wand, the Asset is encased in metal from his neck to his feet, still dangling upside-down. Struggling once again proves ineffective, and his prosthesis plates won't be able to saw through this like they did the ropes.Well, this man isn't getting anything out of him. The Asset's been trained to withstand interrogation and torture, on the off chance that he was captured. He also had to avoid reacting to anything his handlers did to provide correction or maintenance.One of the vials flies off a shelf and into the enemy asset's hand. The contents of the vial probably do something unpleasant. He's been subjected to chemical and medical experimentation before, as scientists tested the effects of his serum. Whatever that vial does, he's probably experienced worse.The Asset clamps his mouth shut, but the man just pinches his nose, obviously planning on waiting him out.After 3.7 minutes, the Asset isn't even feeling light-headed and still has his mouth clamped tightly shut, much to the enemy asset's annoyance. The Asset can hold his breath for a 5.5 minutes, one of the benefits of his enhanced body.The man manages to pry the Asset's mouth open and tip the vial of liquid inside. The Asset is about to spit it all over the enemy asset's face, but he clearly predicts that and covers the Asset's mouth before he can do it.Scowling, the Asset swallows. Hopefully his serum will counteract the effects of the liquid. This man probably doesn't know he's enhanced."Are you the 'Asset'?" The man asks as if he already knows the answer. Had he captured the escorts? The Asset had left them petrified with the unconscious enemy asset. It was a serious slip of judgement. If he had just killed him, he wouldn't be in this situation now, and Harry the Handler would still be safe with the Asset. REMAIN SILENT. The Asset does not plan on replying to this man. And yet his lips move and he answers truthfully, even as he tries to stop himself, as if the answer's being forcefully pulled out of him."утвердительный." He ends up answering an affirmative in Russian, even though he's been using English the past few days with the escorts and then Harry.The man seems to guess that утвердительный means to either confirm nor deny, but he doesn't seem to know which one. It helps that the Asset's voice and face display no emotion, like peoples' do, because he gives no hints as to the meaning."Do you speak English?" The man asks, slightly slower. Again, the Asset starts to reply truthfully before he can even think of lying. Does this liquid somehow make him tell the truth? That shouldn't be possible."утвердительный."The man briefly seems annoyed that the Soldier is only responding in Russian, but then he smirks and says "Coby."There's a popping sound and a... creature appears, as if teleporting here. It's only a little bigger than Harry the Handler and proportioned like a child, but it's head has large pointed ears and huge bulbous eyes. It's completely bald and wearing some sort of robe with a crest on it."What can Coby be helping Professor Snape sir with?" The thing asks eagerly. The asset would not have guessed that the enemy asset, Snape, was a professor."Do any of you happen to speak Russian?" The enemy asset- who the Asset will not think of as Snape- asks Coby stoically.The thing thinks for a bit and then grins, eyes bulging out even more. "Oh, yes sir! Booshky is speaking Russian sometimes! Should Coby retrieve Booshky for Professor Snape, sir?""There is no need for that. I can summon her myself. You are dismissed, Coby." Snape says. Coby disappears with a pop, and after a second, Snape says "Booshky."Another creature seeming to be the same species of Coby pops into existence, only this one is wrinkly, suggesting she is older than the former one."Professor Snape, sir, called for Booshky?" The thing apparently named Booshky asks, bowing its head slightly. Her voice is as eager as Coby's, although she sounds like an old lady."You speak Russian, Booshky, correct?" The enemy asset asks."Yes, Master Snape. Booshky used to serve at Durmstrang." Booshky replies.The enemy asset's lip curls. "I didn't think Durmstrang was in Russia.""Only those who go there know where it truly is, but some students there speak it.""Translate what he says for me." The enemy asset jerks his head towards the Soldier."Yes, Professor Snape sir.""What is your name?" The enemy asset addresses the Soldier this time, but he won't be getting an answer."The Asset does not have a name." The Asset answers unwillingly. Yet he continues to speak in Russian, so the enemy asset will have to rely on this odd Booshky creature for translations."The Asset is saying the Asset does not have a name," Booshky relays the message."Your accomplices also referred to you as the Winter Soldier." The enemy asset says. So the two escorts had already given away HYDRA secrets. The Soldier is one of HYDRA's biggest secrets. Had the answers been ripped out of them, or had they just squealed like pigs?"'Winter Soldier' is an approved designation." The Soldier confirms, even though he once again was trying to keep his mouth shut. Booshky translates this for the enemy asset, who seems to grow annoyed."Answer my question." The man orders. "What is your real name?""The most recent designation is 'Batman'.""Batman?" The man briefly glances at the Asset's clothes, but evidently doesn't seem to know that- according to Harry the Handler- they are Batman clothes.The man starts to grow annoyed, clearly not understanding the Asset's words. The Asset almost wants to smirk for some reason, even though doing so would probably be deviant behavior."Perhaps you are immune to this potion, as you were to stunning." The enemy asset muses. Whatever the petrifying thing was, the Asset should be immune to that, since it had severely compromised the mission.Yet the enemy asset still asks another question. "Do you know what happened to the other residents at Number Four, Privet Drive.""They were to be disposed of after collecting the target Harry James Potter." The Booshky creature's large ears perk up when she hears the name. "The Asset strangled Dursleys in their sleep, before providing medical aid to the boy and blowing up Number Four Privet Drive.""The boy was your target?" The man scowls. "What does HYDRA want with Potter? Your associates failed to answer the question.""The Asset was not told what would happen. It was simply told to acquire the boy and deliver him." The Asset knows that Harry the Handler would have been hurt, though."The Asset defected and failed the mission." The creature repeats this in English after it's wrenched from the Asset's mouth."You failed at delivering the boy." The enemy asset surmises. Whatever feelings he has about it, he hides them very well."You were at a muggle ski lodge." The man continues, sneering. "Yes, I tracked you there, and found several dead bodies.""They tried to take us back. He would have been hurt." Hurt like the Asset is hurt."You had just murdered a family, and were about to murder several others, yet you had qualms about delivering a boy?" The enemy asset watches him with a calculating look. "You feel... protective of Potter." He says the name Potter as if it's filth.Booshky has been watching the Asset more and more warily as this interrogation has gone on, but she seems to relax slightly when the enemy asset says this.The man scowls. "You are immune to this. Your associates told me you're nothing but a mindless assassin. You cannot feel protective of a boy."Booshky's shoulders slump slightly."You won't be able to deceive me." The enemy asset raises his weaponized stick. "Legilimens." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Harry feels horrible, like he's getting squeezed all over. Everything's spinning too fast around him, and it feels like his feet are off the ground.He wonders if he's inside a tornado. He'd seen one on the telly once. Dudley had been fascinated, but Harry hates it. He tries reaching out for Nighty, or his Batman.As suddenly as the squeezing and spinning had started, Harry's feet hit the ground again. His knees sag, but someone is holding him up. The next thing Harry knows, he's throwing up. He sees chunks of the animal biscuits hit the floor, but he can't tell which animals they were.When he's done, he looks up at the person holding onto him. It's not his Batman. This man is old, with long gray hair and a long gray beard.Harry looks frantically for Mr. Asset. He'd been there in the Tesco car park, laying on the ground, stiff as a board. Harry isn't entirely sure he'd been asleep, as he'd first thought.He isn't in the car park anymore. Somehow, in all the twisting and turning, he'd ended up in a room with a large desk and cushy chairs. Shelves of books line the walls as well as- Televisions? Paintings? They look like paintings, but are moving and talking like on the telly. They're asking questions all at once. "Is that him?"Harry bites his lip. Did they leave his Batman behind? Nighty is here, throwing up as well.He sees Mr. Asset up and walking. As horrible as that tornado had been, at least it had woken him up.Harry squints at the man with long, greasy hair. The man is dressed in black clothes, but not the Batman sweatshirt, and he sees both the man's hands are skin. It isn't Mr. Asset. Harry had seen that man's whole robot arm, and there were burns around his shoulder like Harry had on his hand, and scars like when Uncle Vernon used his belt.Harry stares at the man Mr. Asset had fought when Harry was in the car. Mr. Asset had smashed a teeter-totter into this man, who hadn't even punched, just waved a wand around like magic. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon told Dudley that magic was just in stupid storybooks for stupid people.Then he sees Mr. Asset laying on the floor, still as stiff and lifeless as one of Dudley's action figures. Harry waits for his hero to leap up and fight the other man again, like Batman beats up bad guys. He'd done it before, Harry had seen it!"Batman?" he calls out, worried. Mr. Asset just stares at him, still as stiff as an action figure. He hadn't said anything in the car park once he fell down, either."Help!" Harry chokes out.Would he help? None of the adults Harry knew had helped him. Most of them had hurt him, and Mr. Asset had grabbed Nighty around the neck after thrashing around while asleep.But he also gave Harry the big white bandaids around his hands, instead of using them on his own burnt shoulder. Mr. Asset gave him animal crackers and never hit him for crying, he let him keep Nighty and even dressed up as Batman because Harry wanted him to.Best of all, he took Harry away from the Dursleys.Mr. Asset isn't like other adults, Harry has decided. He's a hero, and heroes help.Only, Mr. Asset isn't helping. He's still laying there, looking quite angry but not moving at all.It's like the bad guys won, but Harry knows that never happens. Batman always beats the bad guys. Dudley had boasted that heroes always won, while he punched Harry over and over before bringing him to jail (which was really Harry's cupboard).The scary man places a broom against the wall, then waves a stick. Mr. Asset starts to float."Nighty, help!" Harry calls out. Surely a big dog could bite the bad man, and make him let Batman go.Nighty doesn't do anything except bark at the huge red bird.Harry wriggles free of the old man as a huge statue starts to turn, making stairs spiral down.Harry knows he's not a hero. He was the bad guy in all of Dudley's games. He's not good for anything, but he runs after the bad guy and his Batman."Let him go!" he shouts, because the bad guys can't win, ever. Mr. Asset seems to drop for a second, as if what Harry had wanted actually came true.Harry remembers the word from before, when Mr. Asset had gone all blank in the cabin. There had been tons of men with guns, and Mr. Asset had just stood there until he'd said it. After Harry said the word, Mr. Asset beat up all the bad guys in the bedroom."M-marionekta." Harry's tongue stumbles over it. "Mario-net-ka!"His Batman will snap out of it now, right?No. He stays rigid, and his body thumps heavily on the statue as he floats down the stairs after the scary man.Harry tries to follow them, but the stairs are spinning downward. They aren't even attached to where Harry is anymore.The old man pulls Harry back. Harry stares at the statue. Any minute now, his Batman will return. He'll wake up, beat up the greasy-haired man again and come take Harry away.The old man finally speaks. He doesn't look angry like Uncle Vernon and Aunt Tuna always did, but he's not Batman."You're safe now, Harry."No he isn't. That man took his Batman away. Dumb Nighty's still growling at the big red bird, like Ripper growled at Harry when Aunt Marge came."Bad dog." Harry tells him angrily. He was supposed to bite the bad man pulling Mr. A'set away. Harry sees blood on the floor, but then suddenly, it's gone."Batman will help you." Harry tells the dog, even though Nighty was bad. Harry is really bad and Mr. A'set still pulled out the glass and wrapped them up."Who is Batman?" the old man asks. Harry stares at him in disbelief. Who doesn't know Batman? Even if Mr. A'set maybe isn't really Batman like on TV, he still looked like Batman except for the metal hand and long hair.Harry looks back at the door. "He'll beat up the bad guy." he tells this to himself and Nighty, more than the old man."You mean Professor Snape? He may look bad, but he's on our side."But he hurt Mr. Asset."Where are they? Are you a bad guy?" the questions leave Harry's mouth before he can stop them. He watches the old man's hands, waiting for the man to hit him like Uncle Vernon.The hands reach out, but instead of a hit, the man plucks up a small yellow candy from a bowl. "Lemon drop?"After that weird twisting, and now Mr. Asset being gone, Harry's tummy hurts too much to even think about eating."Where's Mr. A'set?" Harry asks. Did they go through another tornado after going downstairs? The first one brought them here from the car park, so Mr. Asset could be really far away."He's having a talk with Professor Snape." the old man tells him, but in that way where grown-ups are keeping secrets."No! I want him back!" Harry stomps his foot on the ground and grabs onto Nighty's fur. Nighty is a really bad guard dog, he didn't bark or chase the man like Ripper chased Harry and he's still looking at that big red bird.The old man blinks, looking too calm. Uncle Vernon would have smacked him already and Aunt Tuna would have slapped or yelled at him for being a freak. Dudley could stomp and scream- and he did, a lot- but not Harry."You're safer here, Harry." the old man says. "Your... Batman wasn't a safe man. He could have hurt you.""Batman's a hero." Harry tells him. Everyone knows that, except this man. "He beats up bad guys. He only hurted me one time.""So he hurt you." the man says. But it only hurt because that's where Uncle Vernon hit him."My name is Professor Dumbledore." the old man says. Harry doesn't care. He probably couldn't say that name anyway, not that he wants to.The man waves his hand, and the blood from Nighty's foot disappears. Nighty doesn't make a pain sound when he steps on it now, and he barks louder at the bird."Leave Fawkes alone." the old man Dumbledore tells Nighty."I want Mr. A'set." Harry repeats. He wouldn't have dared say it again at the Dursleys, he's scared saying it now, too, but he has to get Mr. A'set back."You look starved, Harry. Have you eaten since you went left the Dursleys?""Mr. A'set got me lions and tigers." he tells the man. "Where is he?!""The Asset fed you?""Where is he?!" Harry stamps his foot again and pulls Nighty away from the big red bird, towards the spinning statue.The old man Dumbledore heads to the fireplace. "Come on, Harry."He must be one of those nuts people Uncle Vernon complained about, thinking a fireplace is a door. Unless that's what squeezed them. Did they fly down the chimney like Santa? Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia hadn't liked Santa when Piers talked about him."We're going to hospital." Dumbledore tells him.If Harry knows anything from Dudley, it's that hospitals are horrible. Dudley always throws a fit when he has to go, and Aunt Tuna always promises toys and candy while Dudley screams on the floor. "Make the freak get shot!" he'd hollered last time.Harry's never been, but whatever getting shot is, he doubts it can hurt more than Uncle Vernon's beatings. Harry's learnt not to cry when Uncle Vernon beats him, that just makes it last longer.At the fireplace, Dumbledore throws in something that makes fire green. Suddenly, the old man stuck his head, long beard and all, into the flames.Harry stares. He really is one of those crazy people. Harry didn't think he could keep from screaming if his whole head was in the flames.Dumbledore was talking to some lady, and then he pulls his head out. His face isn't red like Harry's hand or Mr. Asset's shoulder. Not even half of it is burnt like that Two Face bad guy Batman fought.Harry stands stiffly, scared senseless as Dumbledore approaches him, then whimpers as the man pulls him towards the fireplace. No. It hurt too much when Uncle Vernon burnt just his hand. His whole face will kill him."Uncle Vernon." Harry begs. It's not the old man dragging him. Uncle Vernon's pulling his hand to the burner back at the Dursleys. He knows he should be quiet, but he can't help it."Batman!" he shrieks. "Pwease! Marionetka!"Who's going to patch him up now that Mr. Asset isn't here?He's shaking on the floor, slowly trembling as something cold presses to his cheek. Nighty's nose. He's back in that room, not at the Dursleys.Dumbledore is crouched in front of him, blue eyes sad. "Harry," the man murmurs as if from far away. "We won't go that way. It would most likely upset your stomach again, and Madame Pomphrey would have my head."Harry lays there, too tired as Dumbledore scoops him into his arms. He only sort of notices going down the spiral stairs at last.He wants to wiggle out and look for his Batman. Surely he's just around the next corner, he thinks as the old man carries him through the halls. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Looking at the so-called Asset, many would assume he is a serial killer. Severus himself has seen the detached, unemotional way he fights, has seen his victims bloody and destroyed.He outward appearance is that of an unfeeling murderer, perhaps even more sociopathic than the Dark Lord.Severus himself frequently hides behind a blank mask, so he is quite aware of what can be brewing under the surface of a stony face. Despite knowing firsthand, he expects to enter the mind of a serial killer- cold and without remorse. Severus doesn't think it was only the Veritaserum that had made the Asset report the murders he'd committed without a spark of empathy for his victims.When he enters the assassin's mind, Severus isn't expecting the searing pain. His own mind feels as if it is on fire, a voice blares all around him, deep and reverberating. COMPROMISED. MISSION FAILURE. RETURN TO HARRY THE HANDLER.The voice pounds, unrelenting into Severus's mind as well as the Asset's.There is another voice as well, almost as loud but more human than the first. Get up, Harry needs you. You're the only thing keeping him safe.Only Severus's expertise as a Legilimins enables him to quiet the voices, but even he cannot silence them entirely. They continue to rumble like a distant but fast approaching storm. He is sure they are as loud as ever to the Asset.Once he is able to view the man's mind without the voices assaulting him, Severus sees there are shockingly few memories in the assassin's head. Almost as if he is the victim of being Obliviated.The agents had mentioned the Asset being wiped, and the mind Severus is currently invading certainly supports that testimony.Most of the memories the Asset does have are disturbing. One of the less disturbing ones of him entering a child's bedroom filled to the brink with broken playthings. Is this Potters bedroom? Severus would not have been surprised if a Potter brat was careless with his possessions, even if Lily was always so careful.But something in the back of Severus' own thoughts doubts this is Potter's room.The next memory shows the Asset looming over an obese child, smothering the young boy with a pillow. The boy struggles, his cries muffled. Watching the suffocation of a child in his own bedroom is almost more disturbing than seeing a body drop like a puppet with cut strings after being hit by the Killing Curse.This scene flashes by, followed by a memory of the cold, metal hand brutally strangling Vernon Dursley as the flesh hand wraps around Petunia Dursley's bony throat.In both memories, the Asset's face is completely void of any emotion as he commits his crimes. When Severus had interrogated the Asset, he had spoken of the Dursleys' deaths as if they had not mattered at all.Severus has read about serial killers, how often they are quite unemotional about their killings. Some of the Dark Lord's followers- particularly Bellatrix Lestrange- had been the opposite, delighting in murdering muggleborns, muggles, wizards and witches alike.The Asset is efficient, and does not seem to find any delight in his victims' pain or terror.The memories of murdering the Dursleys pass quickly, shifting to a seemingly unrelated memory of a dark, underground lair, not unlike the dungeons Severus had just interrogated the Asset in.The Asset is in some sort of chair, huge restraints clasped around both the flesh arm and the metal one. Some sort of metal lowers around the man's head, shooting an electrical current into the man's brain. The Asset is screaming as if he's being tortured by the Cruciatus Curse, chest heaving, fists clenched as his body spasms under the restraints. His screams are barely muffled by the rubber bite guard clenched between his teeth.Severus wrenches himself out of the Asset's mind, chest heaving almost as hard as the Asset's had in that chair.He is unexpectedly aghast at the memory. He's seen plenty of horrific sights during his time as a Death Eater, and later a Death Eater turned spy, including those subjected to the Cruciatus Curse.It appears as if the muggles have somehow invented a machine that mimics the effects of a memory charm. Unlike Obliviate, this machine appears to add pain comparable to the Cruciatus Curse as it removes memories.Severus stares down at the Asset, schooling his face into a blank mask again. The Asset's face is clenched as he relives the excruciating memory.Part of Severus almost wants to release the man if that is what happens when he is restrained, but of course doing so would be unbelievable foolish. He knows the minute he frees the Asset, the Asset will go at him again.Severus is not at all eager to delve into this man's mind again, but he needs information. The captured agents had been vague and uninformative, too low-ranking to be privy to the information they need.Severus strengthens his own mental barriers before once again entering the man's mind. This time, the voices do not assault him, and are already muffled.He bypasses the memories he'd already witnessed, aiming for what transpired after the man assassinated the Dursley family. He sees the man creep down the steps and stop at a small door built into the staircase.And then, Severus witnesses something that makes his stomach flip, something that has him seething with both fury and shame.The Potter boy was kept in the small cupboard under the stairs, not the room full of broken toys. As he watched the Winter Soldier pick glass out of the boy's hands and side, Severus realizes he's been wrong about the boy.The boy is far from the pampered prince he'd expected.Severus is aghast at himself as he continues watching the events following the kidnapping (including what looks to be accidental magic as Potter blows up several streetlights in panic). He's encountered a number of students who were victims of abuse and neglect during his time as a Professor, he knows how to spot them more than any other Professor at Hogwarts. Not to mention he himself was a victim as a child.Yet he'd brushed aside the glaringly obvious clues due to his hatred of the boy's father.Seeing the boy's green eyes- Lily's eyes- look so appreciative when he's given food, seeing the small boy treat essentials as gracious luxuries, as if he'd been given the most wonderful gift- stirs something in Severus's usually guarded heart.Lily's child should never have been treated that way. Going back slightly, he sees the child forced to cook dinner for his so-called family, the family Dumbledore insisted would protect the boy from the Dark Lord's followers.Watching Vernon Dursley beat the boy savagely over the broken plate, Severus can't believe how foolish Dumbledore- and himself- have been. What good is protecting the boy from Death Eaters if his despicable relatives kill him first?Severus begins to wish the Dursleys were still alive, just so he could deal with them himself. How dare they do that to Lily's child?!He flashes through his own fight with the Asset and then the Asset disappearing with the child and Severus's wand.Lily would be turning in her grave if she heard how her boy casually refers to himself as a freak and mentions yet more examples of the abuse and neglect as if he deserved them. Severus always knew Lily was far kinder than her sister, and while he does not share Dumbledore's optimistic view of the world, even Severus is surprised at how far Petunia's petty jealousy twisted into such abominable treatment of her own nephew.He sees the memories of the Asset and Potter at the ski lodge. The place is swarmed with agents, and one of them recites ten words in Russian that cause the Asset to be still and compliant.That could be... useful, Severus thinks. Yet it would be just as unforgivable as the Imperius Curse. Indeed, it seems to have the same effect, but Severus is unaware of any specific Russian curse that is equivalent to Imperio. The agents seem to be muggles rather than witches or wizards, judging from the fact they are holding large guns rather than wands.He watches the boy beg for help in the arms of an agent. Something seems to click and the Asset murders the agents he had just submitted to. Shots are fired, and the agents fall with bullets in their brains.Severus seethes as he sees Potter start cleaning up the blood with more efficiency than any of Snape's students clean up in potions class. He has no doubt that, if he were to go in the boy's mind, he would see instances of the boy cleaning blood- most likely his own- at the Dursley residence.The Asset suddenly seems to defer to the boy, almost treating him as a superior. Snape would ordinarily view adult obeying a child with contempt and scorn, but the Marionetka word in of itself seems to act as an Imperius Curse.When the black dog charges at Potter and the Asset, Severus thinks for a moment that it's Black. The mutt is filthy and matted and looks as if it had emerged from the darkest, dankest cell of Azkaban.But there has been nothing in the Daily Prophet about Black escaping. Upon closer inspection, this mutt isn't Black, just a stray eager for any master it can find.At least one murderer is currently rotting in a cell in Azkaban, Severus thinks, before reminding himself that the Asset is only murdering under what seems to be mind control.The Asset removes some sort of tracking chip from its prosthetic arm, something the agents had used to find him.Potter uses accidental magic once again, forming a shield as the Asset leaps onto a moving train. Severus is grudgingly impressed at the boy's magical ability, but as the son of Lily, it is not particularly surprising. She was the most extraordinarily skilled witch Severus had ever known.Severus watches the Asset thrash in the train car, in the throes of a nightmare, before waking up and lunging at the dog. Potter begs for the dog to be spared, clearly having inherited his mother's kindness and empathy.Nothing notable happens for the remainder of the trip, until Severus sees the moment he and Dumbledore capture the Asset. Potter keeps referring to the Asset as Batman. Severus would deny knowing who Batman is to his dying breath.Severus brutally shoves aside his own memory of wishing, as a child, that a tall, dark hero like Batman would rescue him. He'd learned the hard way that he couldn't rely on anyone but himself (and later Lily, until that terrible fallout in his later years at Hogwarts).He doesn't even have to look into Potter's mind to know the boy dreamed of the same thing. From the way Potter looked at the Asset in nearly every memory Severus has seen, the boy clearly thinks his wish has come true. Even when the boy was his target and not his superior, the Asset treated the boy with care- albeit in a detached manner.When he's done viewing what happened with Potter, Severus has nothing else to do but look at the man's remaining memories. All other memories are disconnected, singular entities floating in a black void that is normally filled with life experiences.His own stomach feels cold as he watches the Asset pushed into a metal chamber, the small window filling with ice as he's frozen alive.There are some memories that seem older, fuzzier. In one, Severus sees the Asset beat up a man in an alley, a man who had been beating a short, skinny blonde man who'd refused to back down no matter how many times he'd been punched.The small guy would undoubtedly be sorted into Gryffindor, Severus thinks scornfully. Fighting a fight he won't win, going in with his fists instead of his brain.The Asset in this memory looks vastly different with short hair and a muggle suit instead of tactical military gear or that ridiculous Batman sweatshirt Severus had seen Potter point to at the store. This memory seems far older, fuzzy around the edges."I had him on the ropes, Buck." the scrawny guy says after the cleaner-cut Asset has knocked the attacker out. Buck slings his left arm- which is not the metal one he has now- around the shorter man's shoulder as he leads him out of the alley."Course ya did, Steve." Buck's voice is an even more shocking difference to the Asset than his appearance. It's human, with a drawl that Severus places as American. New York, perhaps?In fact, it is the same voice that's still shouting in the Asset's head, the one that is not barking out orders but is just as insistent about getting back to Potter.There's a similar memory from the man's childhood- a young Buck facing down schoolyard bullies who'd been picking on Steve. They looked to be about eight years old.That is the only childhood memory Severus sees, but the fact it exists makes him think the man's mind hasn't been completely wiped. That, and the voice in his head. Clearly, the muggles aren't completely effective with their versions of Obliviate or the Imperius Curse. But viewing Asset- now an adult with a metal arm- being chained and whipped by agents, Severus realizes they don't need the Cruciatus Curse.There are a few more from the man's adulthood, fuzzy like the rest of them. Crouched with a sniper rifle, a snowy mountaintop. Soldiers, gunfire, a Muggle war.And then, Severus spots Captain America in one memory.Despite growing up in England, Muggle Children in Spinner's End had heard the tales of the hero who helped defeat the Nazis and HYDRA. Severus himself had learned of the man at muggle Primary School, before he and Lily were sorted into Hogwarts.The memory is of Captain America, Steve Rogers, reaching out of a train towards "Buck"."Bucky!" Captain America shouts to the man clinging to the side of the train. "Hang on!"It is only then that Severus realizes the Asset- Buck- is no other than Bucky Barnes. He'd heard the tales of Cap and Bucky, how they helped end the Second (Muggle) World War.This isn't adding up. How did James Buchanan Barnes become the Asset. According to all historical accounts, the man had died falling from the train Severus is witnessing, and Captain America had perished in the ocean not long after.How had he survived? Had he been a double agent the whole time, working for HYDRA? Severus has some experience in joining terrorist, genocidal groups and later regretting it.Whatever had led James Barnes to become HYDRA's asset, it is pretty clear that the voice in his head is battling with the voice issuing HYDRA's orders. Had that voice come from the machine?Severus tries to find something else in the void, some clue as to how the man survived falling, but nothing is forthcoming.At last, he pulls out of the man's mind, his own mind reeling with everything he's just learned. He needs time to process everything. He needs to inform Dumbledore of what he'd seen.Severus looks at the Asset- no, Barnes- still restrained on the floor. He needed a healer years ago, judging from the state of his mind, as well as the angry scars Severus had around the prosthetic in a memory where the man had been shirtless.Madame Pomphrey does not specialize in mind healing- Severus doubts even St. Mungos could completely heal this man's mind, considering there is a ward for those hit by memory charms, but he thinks she might be able to help a few of the man's other injuries. Although, from what Severus has seen, Barnes heals quickly already. Does he have any magical abilities?Severus doesn't release the man from his magical restraints. Not yet.As Severus's mind is whirling, he levitates Sergeant Barnes from the floor and makes his way to the hospital wing. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The Soldier is malfunctioning worse than ever.MAINTENANCE REQUIRED the voice blares. RETURN TO HARRY THE HANDLER.The occasional flash of a vision is wrong enough, but he has just viewed every memory from the both his failed missions. First, not delivering Potter to his handlers, followed by Harry becoming the handler and the Asset failing to protect him from the enemy asset with the weaponized stick.The enemy asset is the most difficult opponent the Asset has ever faced. He can immobilize the asset. He'd wrenched a mission report out of the Soldier, even though the Soldier had been conditioned to withstand interrogation.With a wave of that damn weaponized stick and a muttered word, he'd made the Asset malfunction, made him witness the forbidden visions.The weaponized stick can even override the laws of physics. The Asset is once again floating behind the enemy, moved by an invisible force. They travel up staircases, through stony hallways and past moving paintings.The windows show daylight. The Asset estimates it has been 12 hours since he was captured.The enemy asset is silent, walking briskly through the castle. The Soldier surmises they must be in a castle. There are several medieval suits of armor, which are impractical and hinder flexibility."What were you thinking, leaving the boy with those horrid muggles?" the Asset hears an older female voice with a Scottish accent. The speaker is clearly furious.Is the boy Harry the Handler?"Minerva-" another voice cuts in. An old man, possibly the one with the long beard and hair. He is the last person the Asset knows was in possession of his handler."No, Albus!" Minerva cuts the old man off. "Did you see him?! He's practically skin and bones! I told you they were the worst sort of muggles imaginable, and you still left Harry there! What good are blood wards in a home like that?!""You call that a home?" the new voice asks, seeming to agree with the woman. The Dursley residence was not the correct placement for Harry the Handler.As they turn the corner, the subjects come into view. The Minerva woman has a severe expression on her face, her eyes flashing angrily behind spectacles as she fumes at the old man. The old man is indeed the man who had been with Harry the Handler when the Asset was dragged away.The Asset does not see any sign of his small handler, or the dog Nighty.If the Soldier could move, the old man would be pinned against the wall, the prosthesis parting the ridiculously long beard to wrap around his throat as the Asset demanded to know the location of his handler.The Minerva lady pauses her tirade towards the old man, turning to stare at the enemy asset and the Soldier."Is that the assassin?" Her eyes flash furiously at the Asset "I swear, if he hurt Harry, I'll-" NEGATIVE. MISSION IS TO PROTECT THE HANDLER FROM HARM. "I see Dumbledore has filled you in on the situation." the enemy asset interjects in a voice that is smooth yet curt, cutting off her description of what exactly she would do to the Soldier. The Soldier does not understand many of the methods she is describing, but understands that they mean torture.She is not a handler. Why would she punish the Asset for failing to protect Harry the Handler?The enemy asset turns to the old man. "There are some unforeseen circumstances, Headmaster.""You're telling me," the newer voice in the Soldier's head sounds dry, as the other voice continues to give orders to return to the handler."This is Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. He fought alongside Captain America." the enemy asset looks back at the Soldier, his dark eyes boring into him.More unauthorized visions flash through the Soldier's mind. Aiming sniper rifles seems to be a familiar memory, but in this one, the body is missing the prosthesis, a flesh arm in its place.The Soldier dimly hears the enemy asset explain something about the Second Muggle World War, while the vision of falling from the train flashes through his mind. The blonde man in the vision shouts for a Bucky, and then he's being dragged through the snow, the left flesh arm a stump that leaves a trail of blood.How does the enemy asset know about the forbidden visions? Had the Asset still been speaking when they flashed through his mind? Had he reported them? He does not think he could speak when remembering the Chair. All that would come out would be a scream."But that's impossible." the severe woman stares at the Soldier. "He'd have to be almost as old as Albus. Even with the Sorcerer's Stone, he'd still age.""Are you certain this is not a disguise?" the old man Dumbledore studies the Asset with piercing blue eyes. His nose looks as if it has been broken at least twice, and the Soldier itches break it again with his prosthesis until the old man returns his handler to him."I have looked through his mind, he retains a few memories of the war and before." the enemy asset replies.The Asset wants to snarl at the enemy for going through his mind. He is not authorized to do so, in the way HYDRA was authorized to wipe him."He is a muggle, and thus does not possess the Occlumency skills required to fabricate memories." the enemy asset continues.The Asset does not understand the words muggle or Occlumency.The old woman waves her own weaponized stick, peering at the Asset as if waiting for something to happen. Finally, she mutters something about not transfiguring his body, and the enemy asset mentions that Polyjuice was not used.The group leads the Asset into a room lined with several beds. Dividers are placed between them to give the occupants privacy, and large windows line the stone walls. All the visible beds are empty, one is hidden behind a divider.The Asset is lowered onto one of the beds, still restrained but no longer floating.He is restrained on another bed. A drill bores into the stump of an arm, agony erupting through him. "The procedure has already started." a man's voice says. There is only white-hot agony, until he raises his arms. The prosthesis glints in the light as a bald man wearing thick glasses stares down at him in satisfaction. The vision clears. The Soldier breathes harshly, still immobilized to the bed, while the enemy asset stares studies him in a way not unlike his handlers."He was captured." the enemy asset reports to the old man. "He must have survived, and they turned him into what he is now."The Soldier hears the man describe the Chair. He tries to quiet his breathing. If they know about the chair, they must have one. He needs to be wiped, he is nonfunctional and he has failed the mission, but these people are not his handlers.The topic of his small handler comes up, the enemy asset reporting that Potter had been kept in the cupboard under the stairs, that he was "treated worse than a house elf."The Asset does not know what a house elf is- possibly the creature that had translated his Russian, which looked better cared for than Potter- but the new voice in his head agrees. "The kid would've been better off in an orphanage." THE HANDLER MUST REMAIN IN THE PROTECTION OF THE ASSET. The severe woman named Minerva launches into another diatribe against the old man.Another old woman approaches the Soldier's bed. She is not as thin or severe-looking as the woman named Minerva, nor as cold as the HYDRA techs, even as she mutters angrily about the Dumbledore man. "Obvious malnutrition, I don't know how anyone could overlook that."Potter is malnourished, as is Nighty the dog. Where is his handler? Will the enemies feed him? RETURN. The woman waves her own weaponized stick, and the bonds wrapped around the Soldier disappear. The Soldier wastes no time, springing to his feet and catching a glimpse over the divider.Laying under several blankets, looking even smaller in the large hospital bed, is his handler..The Soldier is about to lunge for his handler, but his arms and legs suddenly spring together once again. He crashes to the floor, stiff as a board. The enemy asset had immobilized him through the same method with his weaponized stick.The Soldier would benefit from a weaponized stick of his own, to incapacitate the enemies. He would snarl, but even his face is immobilized. Flat on his stomach on the cold stone floor, he stares at the gap underneath the divider. Harry the Handler is out of eyesight.After being levitated to the bed once again, the Minerva woman asks "Are you sure it's safe, keeping him near the boy?"The Asset's mind feels frayed between expecting the inevitable agony that accompanies any medical procedure and wondering when he will be wiped and frozen. He will not be able to protect the boy after being frozen, and these enemies are not his handlers.Knowing that his handler is 1.8 meters left of the Asset, yet being unable to move makes the mission almost deafening inside his head.The Asset focuses solely on Harry. The boy is both his failed missions, and the Asset listens to the gentle sound of his breathing.Did they drug him? Wipe him? Will they give him food?Even as he observes the nurse looming over him, his thoughts do not entirely leave his handler.The Batman shirt Harry the Handler had picked out suddenly disappears from the Soldier's body. He is used to being exposed in the presence of others, but is not used to the look of sympathy and disapproval the nurse gives his wounds. Her gaze focuses on the scar tissue where the prosthesis joins flesh.The Asset's body would tense up if it was not already rigid from the immobilization as the nurse waves her weaponized stick over the prosthesis. She tuts about how she can regrow bones, not whole limbs.The Asset did not know regrowing bones was possible.He feels his jaw unlock, but the rest of his body remains restrained as the nurse holds a glass vial to his lips. "It's for the pain," she explains, as if his pain is ever a matter of concern. The newer voice says something about the nurse being a mother hen, but she is not poultry. Despite her apparent sympathy, the asset does not trust her. She is with his enemies, and the liquid the enemy asset forced down his throat made him pliant to interrogation.As he is refusing to drink the beverage, the enemy asset, the severe woman and the old man Dumbledore are discussing what to do with Harry the Handler."I'm sure the Weasleys would be happy to have him." the Minerva woman suggests.The enemy asset scoffs. "They have too many of their own dunderheads running around."A very extensive background check on the Weasleys would be required before the Asset let them anywhere near his handler.The enemy asset continues. "Potter needs specialized care and attention, perhaps even therapy given the state he is in. The Weasleys will not be able to adequately provide that.""Therapy?" the severe woman asks."I hear it can be quite effective with muggles." the enemy asset explains. "Though some have a negative view towards it."The group cannot seem to decide on Harry the Handler, and begin discussing what to do with the Asset. The Asset is used to being discussed, he of course has no say in what his handlers do to him, but these people are not his handlers.Still, the Asset is unsurprised to hear the old man Dumbledore talk about erasing his memories.He requires maintenance. But not from the hands of his enemies. The Asset's chest seems to tighten."You can't possibly be considering erasing his memories." the enemy asset, surprisingly, seems to come to his defense. This does not make the Asset trust him any more."You saw everything you needed to see, did you not?" the old man Dumbledore sounds calm. "We cannot have him remembering Harry."The thought of forgetting his handler is unacceptable. The mission is to protect him, forgetting him is the largest failure possible."He has had his mind electrocuted to erase memories." the enemy asset spits.The group continues to debate and argue, but the Asset cannot make out the words. His head is filled with a buzzing sound, as if he had just woken up from cryogenic stasis.The buzzing diminishes when the nurse sends the group to the corridor.The nurse disappears into an office, and the Asset waits. After 3.1 minutes, he hears Harry the Handler mumble in distress, shifting around in his blankets. REPORT. The Soldier itches to check the boy over, but he still is incapacitated.He hears the handler squirm, then a small thunk. "Mr. A'set?" the boy all but whispers as tiny feet pad across the stone floor."Unable to comply, Harry." the Asset replies in a low voice. The nurse had not immobilized his jaw again after giving up with the vial, but the rest of his body is unresponsive.Harry the Handler gives a small cry of "Batman!" The Soldier's chest tightens. He feels the small boy climb, with some difficulty, onto the bed and press close to him, as if worried he will disappear.The Soldier wants to wrap his arms around his handler, to make sure nobody will take him again."Are you hurt?" the boy leans over to peer at him with wide green eyes."Pain is within usual parameters."Suddenly, the boy wraps his arms around the Asset's neck. At first, the Asset thinks his handler is punishing him, but this does not feel like corrective strangulation. There are quicker, more effective methods to punish mission failure."Do you hurt movin'?" the boy questions not as a handler assessing a broken tool, but as a human concerned about another human. It does not make sense. The Asset is a weapon. He opens his mouth to reply, but his handler continues. The Asset snaps his mouth shut, giving his handler his attention."Sometimes after Uncle Vewnon..." the boy trails off, but the Asset can surmise what he meant. The boy had been beaten to the point where any movement was excruciating. It is most likely only the boy's strange abilities that let him survive.He's seen far too much. the new voice says. A boy his age shouldn't know about that sort of pain. ELIMINATE ANY THREAT TO THE HANDLER. The Soldier would like to start with the three outside the room."Is that why you falled down? Why were you flying? Are you a-" Harry the Handler's eyes become even wider and he hastily closes his mouth, as if he's said something wrong."The enemies have weaponized sticks that possess several capabilities. Immobilization, levitation, pyrotechnics." the Soldier reports in a low voice, so the enemies will not hear. "They possess liquids that assist interrogation, and seem capable of producing effects similar to the Chair."The handler frowns. "Like Time-Out?"The Asset thinks of how being cryogenically frozen shuts him off from the rest of the world. It is time out of the world, usually an undetermined amount. No. The Handler is referring to the Chair.He continues the report. "The enemy incapacitated the Asset and extracted information. The Asset is malfunctioning and immobilized. Awaiting punishment." Even if he was not immobilized, he would be still, and accept any correction. He has failed the mission, which is unacceptable.The handler's small, thin arms tighten around the Soldier's neck, but it does not feel like a punishment. Harry whimpers "No, pwease no. 'm sowrry."Harry the Handler is much less effective at delivering correction than any other handler the Soldier can remember. Instead of a slap or a corrective instrument, he feels the boy's tears and mucus wet his neck. The heart clenches as if there is pain, even though the liquid does not peel his skin away like the hoses other handlers sprayed him with."The old man Dumbledore plans on removing the Asset's memories. He is not a handler, you are.""He's goin' ta... take your brain? He taked me 'way from Nighty." the boy sniffs. "Nighty didn't even help!""He is not authorized to wipe the Asset." the Asset replies, though that hadn't stopped the enemy asset from finding out about his limited memories and the forbidden visions."Mr. Potter!" the Nurse exclaims, and the Soldier feels the boy go almost as rigid as he is. "What are you doing out of bed?! Get away from him!" She enters the Soldier's eyesight, looking down at the boy with an expression that is fond, concerned and stern all at once.Harry the Handler does not comply, pressing his wet face even closer to the Asset's bare skin.The Asset hears the other three enemies reenter the room at a brisk pace."Mr. Potter!" the stern woman Minerva sounds shocked. "What is the meaning of this?"The nurse reaches to lift Harry the Handler, using her hands rather than the levitation abilities of her weaponized stick. Her grip is firm, but not cruel like every other medical personnel the Asset has encountered."No!" the boy cries out. The Asset can feel his handler sticking to him, as firmly as the Asset is stuck to the bed. He had not been sticking before. The boy appears capable of recreating the effects of the weaponized stick, only without requiring the weapon.The old man waves his weaponized stick. Gradually, the boy is peeled away from the Asset's bare chest, still sticking but not immovable. The boy cries the whole time, tiny hands fisted desperately in the Asset's long hair. "Batman!"After 5.2 seconds, the only contact between the Asset and his handler is the small hands still gripping his hair. The Asset wonders if Harry the Handler is capable of unsticking him. If the boy frees him, he will fight and complete the mission."No! Puh-lease!" Harry the Handler kicks the nurse in the stomach, managing to wriggle out of her hold. He flings himself at the Asset."Harry, he is not a safe man." the old man Dumbledore speaks in a calm tone as Harry the Handler plasters himself to the Asset again."He's my Batman!" Harry the Handler glares at the old man, rather than cowering like usual. The Asset gets another flash of the skinny blonde boy before his gaze refocuses on his the handler's dark, messy hair. "Let him go!"."Harry, this man killed your family." the old man explains.They had it coming, treatin' a kid like that. The new voice sounds satisfied in the Asset's head. They don't deserve to be called his family, we gave 'em what they did deserve. MISSION: ELIMINATE DURSLEYS COMPLETED Harry the Handler slowly shakes his head. "My mummy and daddy died in a car crash." his voice drops "They were dumb drunk use-less... freaks."The Asset shoots the tires of a passing car. It spins off the side of the road and he stalks towards it. The man and woman inside look familiar somehow, but he cannot place them, does not remember encountering them. The man is already dead at the wheel from the crash. The Soldier slowly strangles the pleading woman before retrieving the package from the trunk. Mission success.The Soldier snaps back to the present abruptly. Had he assassinated Potter's parents, as he had the boy's aunt, uncle and cousin? He struggles to recall the faces of the targets, familiar yet unrecognizable. The details are fuzzy- the man was dark-haired, but other than that the Soldier cannot recall if he bore any resemblance to Harry the Handler.The enemy asset seems enraged, but does not shout. "Potter, your mother, Lily, was the most brilliant witch I have ever known. Your aunt, contrarily, was a spiteful, vile girl who never grew out of her petty childhood jealousy."The strict woman Minerva shoots the enemy asset a disbelieving look. "I hardly think you're one to talk, Severus."The enemy asset Severus scowls as he seems to grudgingly admit "The boy is not his father, Minerva.""My mummy was Lily?" the boy asks in a small, awed voice.The stern woman Minerva smiles. "You have her green eyes, but you look just like your father James. Your mother had red hair."She clearly expects Harry the Handler to smile, but he frowns. "Did my mummy eat kids?""What in Merlin's name are you talking about?" the stern woman Minerva demands.The boy mumbles into the Soldier's neck about how "Aunt Tuna wasn't even mad when Piers telled Dudley witches eat kids." Surprisingly, the boy snickers slightly. "Dudley's fattened alweady.""I assure you Potter, witches do not eat children." the stern lady says. "Those are ridiculous muggle stories.""You're all freaks." Harry the Handler tells the group. "And em-en-ies.""We are not your enemies, Harry." the old man says somberly. "None of us are 'freaks.' We are all witches and wizards, except for him." the man gestures at the Asset.Harry the Handler remains unconvinced. Good. DO NOT TRUST THE ENEMY. "Your parents did not die in a car crash." the enemy asset interjects smoothly. "They were murdered by the Dark Lord."The Soldier does not remember any HYDRA assets with the codename Dark Lord, nor does he recall it being his own designation. Unless the enemies are attempting to manipulate them with false information, the Asset is not responsible for the death of his handler's parents. Despite the situation, the tightness in the Asset's chest lessens by 7%.The nurse scolds the enemy asset. "This isn't the time, Severus! The boy's been through enough!""He needs to know the truth about-"The nurse cuts the old man off. "Out, now! All of you!""Poppy-" the old man starts, but the nurse does not let him continue."How am I supposed to care for the boy when you keep distressing him?"The nurse ushers the group out of the room again, ignoring their words. With a flick of her weaponized stick, the large doors close, booming loudly in the faces of the old man, the enemy asset and the stern woman.Harry the Handler shifts on top of the Asset, whispering in his ear. "Please feel better. We haf' ta ex-scape." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- ESCAPE pounds into the Asset's brain, over and over. It is part of the mission, has been since they were captured. Now that Harry the Handler has given the order, it becomes an even greater priority.Completion is unlikely when the Asset is immobilized. FAILURE IS INEXCUSABLE. The nurse fusses over Harry the Handler, who refuses to let go of the Asset. With her weaponized stick, she transforms a pillow into a dark toy bear, which she offers to the child as if it will help her gain his trust.She has not gained the Asset's trust. Harry the Handler eyes the bear as if it contains a bomb. CHECK FOR EXPLOSIVES. What other reason would a weaponized stick make a toy?The nurse had clearly hoped for a less suspicious reaction on the handler's part.Harry the Handler continues to cling to the Soldier as the nurse sets the bear aside and fetches two glass bottles. The bottles contain unidentified liquids that, if ingested, could assist interrogation or produce any number of other negative or even fatal symptoms.The Soldier remembers drugs that made fire course through his body's veins until even he could not hold back his screams, other drugs that made the world seem distant and far away. Paralysis drugs that made the body limp rather than rigid, but paralyzed him as he is now.He hears birds outside the window as sunlight streams onto the stone walls. Every other time he recalls being restrained to a bed, it had been in a windowless room. The presence of birds and sunlight does not make this environment any safer.Harry the Handler turns to the Asset, as if awaiting his orders. "She wants me to clean." the boy whispers."Clean?" the nurse looks shocked. "This is a nutritional potion, Mr. Potter. You are entirely too thin for your own good."The newer voice agrees that the handler is severely malnourished. The Soldier does not trust the nurse, despite the fact her examination had not hurt.Despite imminent danger to his handler, the Asset's mind malfunctions. He briefly flashes to attempting to coax the skinny blonde man to accept liquids and food. He does not recall a former protection mission, but he must have had one at some point.The nurse is an enemy. Fortunately, the boy seems to remember that. The handler regards the 'potion' with suspicion, pressing his lips together. "You'll fatten an' eat me.""I'm a healer, Mr. Potter- a doctor." the nurse almost sounds offended. "My goal is to help you, not eat you.""You'll eat me!" the boy exclaims. THE ASSET WILL TERMINATE ANY CANNIBALS THREATENING THE HANDLER. "Mr. Potter, stop that nonsense. I assure you that witches and wizards do not eat people. Your parents were both brave, kind people." the nurse pauses, seeing that the Handler still does not believe her. "I saw your father James in here quite a bit, I'm afraid. Never as young as you, young man, but James was quite the troublemaker."Thinking of the wrong man there, says the voice in the Soldier's head. You mean the punk.The description strikes the Asset as familiar. Someone always got into trouble, was in and out of the hospital, but James sounds incorrect in that context. The Asset does not know why.The nurse sighs heavily and held up the bottle of purple liquid. "This is Dreamless Sleep."Harry the Handler turns to press his face into the Soldier's neck again. "...'m not s'leepy."The nurse mutters about difficult patients. The Asset expects her to try to force the handler to drink the liquids. Being immobilized, his only option to stop her is to stare her down. Both civilians and many agents find the appearance of the Soldier intimidating. The Asset recalls times when targets had been petrified by his presence, reduced to begging or silent pleas.Intimidation is 57% less effective when the Soldier is restrained to a bed with a small child pressed tight against his chest.The nurse raises her weaponized stick. The Soldier does not know what to expect. Will it lock his jaw? Levitate him? Reveal some power he is not currently aware of?She flicks the stick, and Harry the Handler yawns.Nodding with satisfaction, the nurse once again retreats to her office.The Asset strains his muscles in an attempt to pull his limbs free from the bed.The boy seems to fight sleep. His speech becomes slurred as he briefs the Asset. "Dumb-Bell-Door tried to cook me in da fire.""Unacceptable." the Soldier is referring to the old man's attempts to cook his handler, as well as the entire situation. The mission is compromised in his current state. Until he is able to move again, he cannot proceed with the mission.The Asset recalls how his handler had been stuck to him, and then was slowly unstuck by the old man's weaponized stick.Harry the Handler has done inexplicable things without a weaponized stick. He had attached himself to the Asset with an invisible adhesive. Is he capable of reversing the effects, as old man had unstuck the handler?The Soldier is not allowed to tell superiors what to do.He does not attempt to order his handler, instead asking in a low murmur "Are you able to counteract the adhesive effects with your abilities?"Harry the Handler's brow furrows in confusion. "What?"The Soldier unused to child handlers, and had forgotten to account for a more limited vocabulary. He should be punished for not speaking in a satisfactory manner, yet is certain this handler will not punish him."You made yourself stick to the Batman." the Asset uses the codename designated by this handler.The boy shakes his head with wide eyes. "No, sir! It wasn't me!"The Soldier is supposed to trust a handler's every word. If the handler says it wasn't him, then as far as the Soldier is concerned, it wasn't. Despite all his conditioning, doubt sticks in the back of his mind. The new voice has doubts as well. It has to be him, he made a force field.The enemy asset had made shields with his weaponized stick during the Soldier's first encounter with him.The Asset does not report what the voice said. Instead, he states "The mission is to escape."The boy nods, glancing at the office the nurse had entered, then the door she had slammed in the faces of of the other three enemies. "Let's go. Please.""The Asset is compromised. It cannot complete the mission in the current state.""But they're bad guys!" Harry the Handler's face shines with horrified disbelief. His expression should morph into anger at the Asset, disappointment in its failure, but his face remains shocked. "Bad guys can't win!""If you use your abilities to unstick the Asset, the mission could continue." the Asset is careful to keep the tone neutral and quiet, merely stating relevant information, not telling the handler what to do.Harry the Handler bites his lip. After 4.2 seconds, he speaks softly "You won't be mad?""The Batman exists to complete the mission."The Soldier should not need the handler's help, should not require assistance to complete the mission. He is not performing to standards. His body feels cold at the thought, as if he has just emerged from the cryogenic chamber.The boy nods almost imperceptibly. He stares intently at the Asset, his eyes drooping before he widens them again. He shakes his head to wake himself up."I can't." the handler whispers in a broken voice. "I wan' ta go. Not get cooked."The Asset recalls the other instances when Harry the Handler used his enhanced abilities. When forming a shield while jumping on the train, the boy had been a mix of terrified and exhilarated. When the streetlights had exploded, the boy had been frightened. Sticking to the Asset, he'd been desperate not to be pulled away.The Asset knows that emotions compromise mission success. Yet Harry the Handler seems unable to use his abilities without experiencing intense emotion. The adults with the weaponized sticks are certainly highly trained, but Potter is young and untrained.The Asset takes a breath."The enemies will return." the Asset says. "If you do not unstick the Batman, they will wipe the Batman's memories. They will take you away.""And cook me." the small hands of the handler tug at the Asset's prosthetic shoulder. "Get up, Mr. A'set! Please!"The Soldier is used to being moved by handlers, maneuvered to be wherever the handler wants him.As the boy tugs the Asset with increasing desperation, the invisible adhesive weakens. First by 12%, then 26%. After 15.9 seconds, the effect is weak enough for the Asset to tear himself free of the bed.Harry the Handler gasps and a slow smile spreads across his face.The mission can progress.He shoots a look at the office, but the nurse did not seem to hear. The Soldier's enhanced hearing picks up the voices of the enemies from beyond the thick wooden doors, but he cannot comprehend the words. ELIMINATE WITNESSES Neutralizing three enemies would not be an issue under usual circumstances, but the weaponized sticks pose too great a threat to mission success. They would simply immobilize him again, take his memories and take the handler away. Forget about them, get out of here! Harry the Handler stands up on the bed, wobbling slightly as he reaches for the Asset.The Asset lifts his smaller handler and silently approaches the window. The room is on the second story of the castle, the drop is inconsequential. The Asset lands smoothly and looks at Harry the Handler."Let's go." Harry the Handler looks back at the castle fearfully.The Asset moves swiftly but silently, slipping out of sight of the hospital's windows. Despite his recent malfunctions, his expert stealth remains."We got out!" Harry the Handler smiles. No handler has smiled at the Asset before, even after a successful mission with much fewer drawbacks than the current mission. "'Cos you're strong an' bad guys never win.""Your abilities made escape possible." the Soldier must give the handler credit, even though he should have been able to handle it himself."Me?" the boy frowns. "...I'm a freak like them.""You are not an enemy. You are the handler."After the Soldier has walked 296 meters, Harry looks back at the castle. "We left Nighty."The Soldier stops, smoothing out a scowl before it shows on his face. Nighty had been part of the mission, but going back would put Harry the Handler in more danger.He waits for the order to extract the dog, but a distant, familiar bark silences both the boy. Nighty the dog appears over a grassy hill 29 meters away, running towards them."Nighty?" Harry the Handler blinks. "I t'ot they cooked him.""Where yeh goin'?" a voice booms after the dog.Nighty is complicating the mission, drawing too much attention.The Asset slips behind a tree as an enormous man with wild hair and a bushy beard follows Nighty, accompanied by another black dog with sagging skin. The Soldier studies the man- 2.5 meters tall, enhanced strength is almost a certainty.Threat assessment: high."There yeh went." the giant chuckles, reaching into his overcoat. The Asset tenses, but the giant does not draw a gun or weaponized stick. Instead, he holds out a dog biscuit. "What d'yeh see?"The Asset's fingers twitch. If he had his guns, he would be firing already. He waits, hoping the man will leave, but the man approaches the dog, his footsteps thundering on the ground."Nighty," Harry the Handler says, completely blowing their cover. "We gotta go.""Harry?" the giant gapes at the child, then his eyes narrow at the Asset. The prosthesis clenches into a fist. He would prefer to slip away undetected rather than engaging the giant in combat.The giant steps toward the Asset with thundering footsteps. The giant is possibly more effective at intimidation than the Asset. "Put him down."The Asset places the handler on the ground, not out of compliance, but to keep the handler out of harm's way as he charges.He slams into the giant's stomach, but the man does not budge. He is clearly enhanced.Hands the size of trash can lids grip both the Asset's arms, lifting him high enough that his feet leave the ground.The Asset plants a foot on the giant's chest and pushes off, using the leverage to break free of the giant's grip. Unlike many opponents, the giant does not stagger backwards.The Asset lands in a crouched position. He has no weapons other than the prosthesis, which is 65% less effective against an enhanced opponent.The giant takes several swings, but the Asset ducks the massive arms. He hears the handler shout as he grabs an arm the size of a tree trunk with the prosthesis, attempting to throw the giant.Pick on someone your own size, says the voice in the Asset's head."Fang, get Dumbledore." the giant grunts to the droopy dog, which had been slinking away in a cowardly crouch. The dog barks and lopes quickly toward the castle. STOP IT. If the Soldier had a knife, it would already be flung and buried into the dog to prevent the message reaching the enemies. The Soldier is trained to be adaptable, resourceful. In seamlessly fluid movements, he kicks up a stone, catches it in his flesh hand and hurls it at the dog Fang. The impact renders the dog unconscious, but it is not fatally wounded.The giant roars, wrenching the Asset into the air by his throat before slamming him back down. A massive boot presses down on the Asset's chest, forcing air out of the Asset's lungs."No!" Harry the Handler screams."Harry, run!" the giant looks toward the small handler, his weight lessening slightly. "Get a professor. Get Dumbledore."Harry the Handler does not obey the enemy's command.The Soldier takes advantage the distraction to knock the giant's leg out, rolling away as the giant crashes to the ground.Pouncing onto the giant's broad back, the Soldier locks his flesh arm around the giant's throat in a chokehold while he slams the prosthesis into the giant man's head.With another bellow, the giant rears up and back, slamming the Asset into a tree trunk.The Asset grits his teeth, and does not relinquish his hold as the giant rams him into the tree again.His grip is weakened enough for the giant to extract himself, flipping the Asset around to attempt to smash him face-first into the tree.The Asset uses the prosthesis to snap the tree's trunk before he is slammed into it. The lack of impact makes the giant stagger slightly as the Asset swings the trunk up and back, knocking it into the man with enough force to shatter a non-enhanced target's skull.The massive man drops. The Asset hits him with the tree three more times, before pinning him under it.Functionality of the prosthesis is impaired 28% after the fight. The Asset clenches the fist, the metal ripples as it attempts to recalibrate.He quickly frisks the giant's coat pockets for weapons. He keeps three keys, knowing nine different methods to incapacitate or eliminate non-enhanced targets with a single key. He discards six dog treats covered in fungus, a dented kettle, and is about to discard a pink umbrella when he notices the tip suspiciously resembles a weaponized stick.The Soldier keeps the umbrella, even though it does nothing when he waves it. Perhaps weaponized sticks have fingerprint scanners that prohibit access to their abilities.The giant groans, opening his eyes. The Asset snarls.The nurse, or the other three enemies have undoubtedly noticed their absence by now. He does not have time to thoroughly eliminate the giant man.Scooping up his handler, he sprints across the grounds.As he runs past a large tree, the entire tree shudders, despite there not being any wind.Before the Soldier has time to consider this, a branch whips at him. The Soldier dodges it, realizing it is not someone swinging the branch at him as he had hid the giant. The tree is swinging itself.The Soldier growls. Even the trees are hostile in this place.He catches a different branch, but is not able to snap it with his prosthesis as he had the other tree's trunk. The Soldier twists his torso to put himself in between the handler and another branch.Harry the Handler is screaming, the volume increasing when he is knocked out of the Asset's arms. He falls to the ground, and another branch whips down towards him.The Soldier takes that blow as well, pushing the handler out of harm's way. The handler scurries backwards, disappearing into a hole among the tree's roots. FOLLOW. PROTECT THE HANDLER. The Soldier dives into the hole, barely avoiding another branch. The tree continues to attack for 4.2 seconds, then shudders to a stop.Harry the Handler breathes heavily next to the Asset, clinging to his chest.The Soldier is certain they will be attacked if they exit back through the hole. He observes the enemy asset, the stern woman Minerva, and the old man making their way down a hill.Had they been detected?The Asset is on alert. With the way the mission is going, something will attack them down here as well, something the Asset will not recall ever fighting before. He does not remember encountering weaponized sticks, a giant or a moving tree on any other mission.When his breathing has returned to baseline, Harry the Handler peers down the dark tunnel. "The under-gwound? Where are the trains?""The Batman did not detect any locomotive vehicles, Harry.""Oh." the boy ducks his head. After 30.2 seconds of silence, he speaks up tentatively. "Does this go to the Batcave?""Unknown.""We'll be safe." Harry the Handler sounds hopeful as they make their way through the tunnel. "Nob'dy can find us in da Batcave!" ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Severus watches Dumbledore pace back and forth, deep in thought. He tries to ignore his own headache. He hasn't slept since Potter went missing, and the situation has only become more complicated once they had finally found the boy and brought him to Hogwarts.Minerva is still fuming, first about how Potter clearly fears magic, and now about the assassin. "Did you see the way the boy was clinging to his kidnapper! As if he was safer than us!""Despite how it may appear, I do not believe the boy has Stockholm Syndrome." Severus doubts either his colleague or employer have heard of the term. "Stockholm Syndrome is when a captive begins to feel affection or closeness to their captor.""That's exactly what it sounds like!" Minerva exclaims, rounding on Severus. "He was treating his captor like a cuddly toy!""That man provided the boy with the best care he can remember." Severus tells them smoothly. "Even when he was going to hand the boy to his leaders, he assured the boy's wounds were looked at and provided Potter with food."Minerva fixes Dumbledore with an intimidating stare that rivals Severus's own. "If Harry had been placed with a proper family to begin with, he wouldn't have this... Stockholm Syndrome. He shouldn't like someone just because they fulfill his most basic needs!""What the situation should or should not be is irrelevant." Severus tells her curtly."Indeed." the headmaster nods gravely. It is the first thing he's spoken since they were shown out by Madame Pomfrey, and he does not pause his pacing. "We have to deal with the unfortunate situation we are presented with."Dumbledore is planning, that much is clear, but Severus is not entirely sure what that plan is. Does the old man still intend to Obliviate Barnes? Would he take the man's few remaining memories of his life before HYDRA, as well as the memories of Potter?A memory charm would be quick and painless, unlike the method he'd seen in the man's memories. Severus still does not think it is a wise decision.Severus would not be surprised if Dumbledore attempts to turn the assassin into his own spy.Not that the assassin would be a very practical spy. Severus had not found any of HYDRA's plans in the man's head. The assassin was treated as a weapon to be fired at a target, not a high-ranking agent with classified information. Furthermore, who was to say that any plans to spy for Dumbledore would not simply disappear when the man's mind was electrocuted again?Sending the man back to that environment seems needlessly cruel, and would gain nothing."You wanted to place Potter with muggles." Severus reminds the headmaster. "This man may be the most capable of protecting the boy.""You want to leave the boy with an assassin?!" Minerva says. "Have you been confunded, Severus?! I thought Slytherins were supposed to be cunning and think things through!""I have considered this thoroughly." Severus's voice remains silky, but there is a steel blade hidden under the delicate fabric.Even when the agents had used their control words similar to Imperio, the Asset had protected the boy.Severus suspects there are agents hunting for the Asset and the boy, but the Asset had an easier time dealing with those than with Severus or Albus. There will undoubtedly be Death Eaters after the boy now that the blood wards are no longer in place."Let's keep him here." Minerva argues. "Hogwarts is one of the safest places, and he might come to realize magic is not scary.""Or it will traumatize him into never wanting to encounter magic again.""Harry will need to learn not to fear magic." Dumbledore's tone is final."You won't send him back to the Muggle world, will you?" Minerva asks suspiciously.Severus knows there are muggle superheroes. Iron Man, or Tony Stark, in particular has funds and resources to provide for a child. He has muggle weapons capable of protecting the boy, but the man is a devoted bachelor, his lifestyle not conductive to raising a child.Madame Pomfrey hurriedly pushes open the hospital wing doors. "They're gone!""Gone?!" Minerva echoes in disbelief. "We were right out here the whole time! They couldn't have gotten past us! I thought the assassin was restrained.""Perhaps the boy freed him with accidental magic." Severus says as he strides over to the open window. That has to be the way they escaped.Severus turns on his heel and quickly strides towards the castle grounds."Nighty's a bad dog." Harry the Handler gives a morose briefing as they approach the end of the tunnel. The boy reports how the dog was with the giant who "tried'ta squash you like Dudley,"how it did not fight the giant or help the Asset when he was flying."Nighty the dog is an enemy." the Asset confirms the report with a nod. The handler still appears surprised that the Asset listens to him. From what he'd seen at the Dursleys, Harry is used to listening to others, just as the Asset is.The tunnel ends at the interior of a dilapidated house."It's not the Batcave." Harry the Handler scrunches his face the thick layer of dust covering every surface. CHECK FOR THREATS. The Soldier sees no recent footprints, indicating it is unoccupied and has been so for quite some time. He quickly sweeps the premises for occupants in other rooms or recording devices, but finds neither.Harry the Handler follows him through the house, when it should be the reverse, the asset following the handler. The small handler swipes a finger through the dust on a table with one leg snapped off. "Aunt Tuna'll be so mad.""Your aunt is dead, Harry." the Soldier reports flatly. Good riddance. Harry nods, tracing patterns into the dust with his finger. One pattern vaguely resembles a winged creature.The Asset reports damages. "Functionality of the prosthesis is impaired 45%. The mind is malfunctioning. The Asset has visions of being a man named James-"The name slips off his tongue, and he pauses. Was it James? The man on the train had shouted for a Bucky. The enemy asset had said the Soldier was Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, but that is most likely false information.It needs to be wiped.Rather than disappointment or anger at the forbidden visions, the handler appears awed. "The doctor witch said my daddy was James... are you... did you... not die?"The Soldier's mind flashes once again to falling from the train. That was not a death, was not him. He was made as an Asset. When he refocuses, he slowly answers "The Batman did not die. Do you wish the Batman to be James?""James." Harry the Handler smiles slightly."New codenames are Batman and James." The Asset- James- nods in understanding."But you aren't my daddy. He was a freak an' you don't eat people." The Soldier remembers killing targets using a variety of methods, but does not remember ever being a cannibal. "'Cos you're a hero and re-scued me from da Dursleys.""The Batman James is your asset. A soldier." The word hero has never been applied to him. Weapons aren't heroes, the people wielding them are.The boy mumbles something that would be inaudible if not for his enhanced hearing. "I wish you were my daddy.""You want the Batman James to be your father." James knows that fathers protect their children as he protects Harry the Handler, but children obey their fathers while assets obey their handlers.Harry looks as if that might be too much to hope for. Instead of answering, he points a finger at the shoulder of the prosthesis with one hand, his other hand lifting his hair to show the scar on his forehead. "We both have red scars. I have a light-ning and you haf' a star."He is not sure why the boy briefed him on this. He could understand his handler wanting to replace the star on the shoulder with a lightning bolt, to mark him as his own. Harry the Handler does not suggest anything of the sort.The Asset James rotates the prosthesis to show the star better, and it makes a clunking noise, jamming slightly. The battle with the giant appears to have damaged it. MAINTANENCE REQUIRED. "The mission would be better served if the handler decommissioned the Batman James and used a new asset." The Asset James has been maintained and wiped in similarly dank rooms, but there is no sign of maintenance equipment in the dilapidated house."De-com'soned?""Stored. Put down. Whatever the handler decides."Inexplicably, Harry the Handler laughs. "I can't put you in the cupboard! You're a gwown-up.""The Batman James will malfunction more the longer it is out of cryo.""You'll cry?""Cryogenic freezing stores the Batman James when it is not being used.""You go in a... fwid'ge?" the boy looks around, and James realizes he means refrigerator. "I don't see one."Recalibration is unlikely to occur in the dilapidated house."The enemies will follow," the Asset James informs his handler. Scoping the view out the window, he sees a small village. He searches through the dusty rooms. Harry follows him as if he is the handler once again. The boy bites his lip. It is clear he intends to ask something, but is hesitant to do so. Handlers are never hesitant to demand information from the Soldier.The Asset James gives the boy his attention. "Did you have a question, sir?""Wha'you lookin' for, Mr. A'set James, sir?" Harry appears eager to be helpful, despite his hesitance."A concealment cloak. The enemy asset had a cloak that made him invisible." He finds a dusty old robe in a wardrobe, but the only concealment it offers is covering the prosthesis. The prosthesis is easily recognizable, concealing it aids with covert operations.The dusty cloak is not as useful as one that makes the wearer invisible. Still, Harry the Handler smiles, telling the Asset James he looks like a superhero.Pulling the dusty robe tight around his body, the Asset James covers their tracks, then breaks through the wood barring the front door. The handler clings to his robe as they make their way toward the village. There is no sign of a pursuit from the enemies.The Asset James is on high alert. The enemy asset could be invisible, the giant could have escaped by now. He should have eliminated both of them."Can Nighty smell us?" the boy asks."Possibly." AVOID DETECTION. The Asset James easily slips into nooks among the old shops in the village.Harry the Handler stops to gawk at a shop labeled Honeydukes. It appears to be a food shop, but the nutritional qualities of the foods are unknown.There are eight occupants inside Honeydukes. Brightly-colored boxes float through the air, directed by an old man's weaponized stick. The old man is not Dumbledore, but the weaponized stick classifies him a threat.Harry the Handler tugs the Asset Jame's robe, whispering about freaks, yet seems unable to tear his eyes away from the shelves.The Soldier studies the shop's contents. Boxes containing chocolate frogs, cauldrons and wands line the shelves, there is a high possibility they are poisoned or drugged. A large barrel advertises "Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans", which likely assist interrogations depending on the flavor. There are peppermint cream toads that reportedly hop in the victim's stomach.Exploding Bonbons could be a useful weapon, since the Soldier lacks grenades, but are likely tampered with. They could backfire on the Soldier, for all he knows.The Soldier remains unobtrusive, but the old man approaches them anyway. The Soldier readies himself for a fight."Can I help you find anything?" the man smiles as if to appear nonthreatening, pocketing his weaponized stick. The Asset James does not relax as the man bends down to Harry's level. "See anything you like, sonny?"The boy hides behind the Asset Jame's robe, gripping the cloth tightly."You're Harry Potter," the old man breathes, eyes flicking to the lightning scar on his forehead."Harry Potter?" a woman from across the store gasps, dropping a box. The prosthesis clenches as, within 1.8 seconds, every eye in the store turns to the boy, who buries his face into dusty cloth. AVOID DETECTION. MISSION COMPRIMISED. "Take anything you want, Mr. Potter, and don't worry about the price." the old man glances at the Asset James as he says the last part. "Are you visiting, sir? I must say, I'd remember if I'd seen the Boy Who Lived in Hogsmeade before. You're lucky to have him."The other customers crowd around them, shouting questions.What, is Harry some kind of celebrity? The new voice queries.The Asset James backs out of the door, tense, waiting for one of the patrons to immobilize him with a weaponized stick. The crowd follows them out, still vying for Harry the Handler's attention, but the Asset James has already slipped between two shops, quickly making his way out of the village with his handler.He jogs and, for the moment, nobody appears to be following. Harry stumbles, and he picks the boy up, feeling thin arms wrap loosely around his neck."Where is the Batcave?" the Asset James needs intel. The Batcave is clearly a safe place, from the handler's other briefings."Um... Gof-fam City."The Asset James frowns. He does not know of a Gotham City. He did not know about weaponized sticks or the castle, either."Where is Gotham City? What are the coordinates?""Aunt Tuna says 's not real." Harry scoffs. "Iwon Man's real, so Batman has'ta be!""What is in the Batcave?""All Batman's stuff! Batmobiles an' suits an' bat-rangs an' a big copmuter."It sounds like a base. The Asset James could likely get maintenance there. A cop-muter is unnecessary, the Asset avoids police detection. Unless he meant computer. "Sometimes I pr'tended my cupboard was the Batcave." Harry tenses again, relaxing when the Asset James does not punish him. "But it was jail, 'cos I was the bad guy.""You are not bad. You are the handler."'Bad's a bit of an understatement for most handlers. The Asset James scowls at the voice in his head. It is not his place to question or judge handlers, past or present.Harry the Handler is silent. The Asset James hypothesizes that he is thinking of his strange abilities making him a freak."Your abilities are an asset to the mission. You are not a freak.""I'm a A'set?" Harry gazes up at the Asset James in awe. "Like you, Mr. A'set James sir?"The Asset James does not have his handler's abilities. He wonders why HYDRA hadn't tried to give them to him, but those abilities were likely why they wanted the boy in the first place.He hikes another 9 km, unsure of how to locate the Batcave. The handler has not even provided a direction, so he cannot use the sun to navigate.The Asset James needs to get Harry to a safe place, before they are ambushed again."He got Harry." Hagrid grits out with labored breaths when they find him, furiously struggling to lift a fallen tree and boulder pinning him down. "I tried teh stop 'im. They went to'ard the Whomping Willow."Dumbledore quickly levitates the weights off Hagrid, who slowly sits up. "Thank yeh, Professor Dumbledore, sir."The giant's expression turns murderous as he stands up, somewhat shakily, and goes to Fang. The dog Potter named Nighty is sniffing at Fang's fallen body, barking as if worried.Fang is breathing as Hagrid hoists it up. "Once yeh stop the man, I'll tear him apart for hurting Harry.""I do not believe he hurt the boy." Severus gets a shocked look from Hagrid."That man is a menace." Hagrid growls. Severus raises an eyebrow. Considering Hagrid's habit of picking up murderous creatures and treating them as harmless pets, he is surprised that the man is writing off Barnes so quickly. Not that the man is a pet, though he'd been treated worse than a beast by HYDRA."We must get Harry back." Dumbledore strides purposefully toward the Whomping Willow, waving his wand so the tree does not attack them.Severus scowls as they travel through the dark tunnel toward the Shrieking Shack. "I believe Potter will view that as being kidnapped, more than he did when the Winter Soldier took him from the Dursleys.""It's not kidnapping, it's a rescue." says Minerva in an affronted tone."The boy will not view it that way." Severus is certain that this plan will backfire. He shouldn't care. A day ago, he would have been thrilled to see what he thought was a brat taken down a peg.He is certain that, whatever Dumbledore's plans, taking the boy from Barnes will backfire. Had they not noticed that the boy used magic to avoid being taken away? Minerva clearly saw how attached he'd been.The Shrieking Shack is empty, without a trace of the soldier or the boy's presence. There are no footprints, and Minerva's muttered Homenum Revelio yields no results."Perhaps they didn't leave the grounds?" Minerva suggests, looking back at the tunnel."We'll split up. Severus, do you mind searching the village?"Severus suppresses a sigh. He minds very much. All he'd like is to collapse in his quarters. He doubts he would even need Dreamless Sleep.Instead, he stalks from the Shrieking Shack toward the rest of Hogsmeade. Clustered around Honeydukes is a group excitedly prattling about Harry Potter."The Boy Who Lived!""Here, in Hogsmeade!""Someone alert the Daily Prophet!""Strange bloke he was with," one wizard remarks."Which way did they go?" Severus scowls."Disapparated as soon as he left, didn't hear the bang though." the wizard frowns. "Seemed a bit touched in the head, that bloke did. He was all angry and-" the wizard's eyes widen. "You don't think he was one of... You-Know-Who's followers, do you?"Severus does not think that the Winter Soldier can apparate, but given how difficult he was to track down in the first place, he might as well have.The last thing he wants is to follow them on broomstick again. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Judging from the fields and mountainous terrain surrounding them, as well as the accents of some of the customers of Honeydukes, the Asset James estimates he is in Scotland's highlands. Still in the United Kingdom, but not in England where the mission had started.Every step is tense as the Asset James waits for HYDRA agents or the enemy asset to converge. It is easy to disappear in the mountains, but he is certain he is being followed, tracked, hunted. GET TO THE BASE. BATCAVE. Harry the Handler has not provided sufficient intel for locating the base. The Asset James does not know where Gotham City is located in relation to Scotland.HYDRA and the enemies with weaponized sticks who called themselves witches and wizards are not the only dangers the Asset James needs to protect Harry the Handler from. He listens intently to the scurrying and scampering in the mountains, constantly on the lookout.After 7.6 minutes, Harry the Handler asks why everyone had shouted his name. The Asset James replies "You are being hunted by many organizations."The boy frowns, clearly wondering why anyone would be after him. "You won't let bad guys eat me?""Anybody cannibals will have to get through the Batman James." This promise means less when he is defective, when the enemies possess weapons that he is powerless against."Are you able to paralyze the enemies, as they did to the Batman James." the Asset sees his handler's confused expression and amends "Make them not move.""I can't beat them up." Harry the Handler whispers. "But you can." WEAPONIZED STICKS ARE TOO POWERFUL. THEY IMMOBILIZE THE ASSET. That is the problem."You may need to protect yourself if the Asset James is compromised. It is malfunctioning, and may become inoperable before it is maintained, corrected, wiped." The Asset Jame's voice stays flat and submissive, even as the body tingles with phantom pain at the thought of correction and the Chair."But you're a hero. You haf'ta win."The Asset glances at the weaponized stick disguised under a pink umbrella. The enemies had greater control of their abilities than his handler- was that due to the weaponized sticks themselves, or age and experience.He slowly hands the umbrella over to the handler, who holds it as warily as an inexperienced civilian would hold an explosive. "You might be able to stop the enemies with this."The boy slowly opens the umbrella with the weaponized stick, pointing it upward. The leaves above them rustle in the absence of wind, then fall from their trees despite it being the wrong season. Harry the Handler drops the umbrella with a terrified expression. The Asset James folds it up again, and tucks it away.He picks the boy up and resumes walking. If the boy cannot fight reliably and the Asset is defective, they must avoid another encounter with the enemies at all costs."Who's the Boy Who Lived?"The Asset James suspects it is a boy who survived an assassination attempt. He wonders if HYDRA had sent the Soldier to kill the boy and his family. Had he defected then as well, spared the young boy? He does not remember but surely HYDRA would have corrected that malfunction before sending him to bring them the boy. Clearly, they hadn't.After 20.5 minutes, Harry begins to wriggle to be set down, staring intently at a snake basking in the sun on a log.Studying the dark, zippered pattern on its gray back, he holds his handler out of reach. The snake is likely venomous. PROTECT. The Asset James wants to continue to hold his handler out reach of the snake's fangs. Snake bites are not quite cannibalism, but they are to be avoided. The boy has shown enhanced healing, but the Asset James is unsure if that extends to venom.Still, he must obey. He watches the boy crouch near the snake, watching but not touching.Suddenly, the boy begins to hiss.The snake waits and hisses in what appears to be a reply.Harry the Handler looks back at the Asset James expectantly, waiting for an answer to some question he does not know. Not knowing sends a chill through his body, though he does not show any outward signs of it. REPLY Failure to answer his handlers always results in punishment."You'll leave her alone?" the boy asks, presumably about the snake. He appears more confused than angry about having to clarify the question. The Asset James nods.The boy hisses with the snake some more, looking around in excitement.The snake slithers away, and Harry stands up, turning back to the Asset James, who waits for correction or a briefing."Can we go?" Harry asks, as if he needs the his soldier's permission."The mission is to get to the Batcave."The boy points at the snake, which has stopped slithering, almost as if waiting for them. "She says there's caves.""The snake said it." The Asset James phrases it as a statement, as if he is merely repeating the briefing, even though the voice in his head sounds confused. Is the boy imagining it? He dismisses that thought. It is not his place to question his handlers.Harry the Handler stumbles slightly as he follows the snake over a rock. The Asset James ensures his handler does not fall as they walk for 5.4 minutes, at a much slower pace than the Asset James is accustomed to.Harry the Handler stares dubiously at a small cottage. "Under there?"His face falls after a few more unintelligible hissed sentences are exchanged, and he doesn't follow when the snake slips away. The Asset James remains by his handler.Harry the Handler assesses him and asks "You don't like snakes?""That snake appeared to be an ally, not a threat.""Why didn't you talk ta her?""The Batman James does not understand hissing."Harry the Handler gives a look that says the Asset James was not paying attention, that he'd failed to notice obvious intel. It is a dangerous look to see on a handler's face, no matter how young."We talked... normal." Harry the Handler frowns in confusion. "Jus' talking like now. You hear-ed it, right?"He had heard it, but had not even recognized that as being a language. The Asset James does not consciously remember learning any of the languages he is fluent in, but he remembers everything from this mission and knows Harry the Handler had not briefed him on a way to communicate with snakes.He's malfunctioning more and more.The handler does not comment on his defective performance, instead giving a briefing on the conversation. "She didn't know Gof-fam. Or that I'm Harry."The inner voice questions how a snake would know any of that."The snake was not a reliable informant," the Asset James surmises."She said she can bite da bad guys if she sees them, but you already beat-ed 'em up." THE ENEMIES WERE NOT ELIMINATED. "The enemies will still pursue you. You need to get to a safe base. The Batcave." He surmises from the handler's dubious look at the cottage "The Batcave is not under there.""He has the biggest house in the world."That would have been useful intel to have been briefed on earlier, the Asset James thinks, while observing an elderly couple sit down to dinner in the cottage. The clock behind them shows it is 1732.Harry the Handler's stomach growls as he looks at the meal, but he makes no comment about wanting food.The Asset James could break in, incapacitate the occupants and set up a temporary base to retrieve intel vital for the mission. Harry the Handler could eat.Someone could notice the couple's absence. The children or grandchildren occupying numerous photographs on the wall could call, alert the authorities when their relatives do not answer the phone. The Asset would easily disappear by the time authorities arrived, but it would still leave a trail for their pursuers. NOT AN IDEAL BASE One photograph of three little girls sends images of brown hair and youthful smiling faces flashing through his mind. An ambush of young girls shout "Bucky!" as they run to someone who is not him. Other girls fighting, firing guns. Lined up at attention in front of the Soldier. The Asset James tears his eyes away, forcing his thoughts back to the present and ignoring the voices in his head. He resumes walking, while Harry the Handler tries to stifle the noise of his stomach with his hand."We could ask a 'nother snake." Harry the Handler's tone suggests he expects the idea to be immediately rejected and scorned. FIND A SNAKE The Asset James finds another cottage first, 0.7 km down the road. A safe base is more important than a snake, even as an informant. The dark windows and absence of a vehicle indicate it is unoccupied. The occupants could have simply vacated the premises temporarily.Breaking into the cottage is simple. He leaves the lights off to avoid detection, never ceasing to listen for the sound of a car returning. He will be able to disappear undetected before they enter the house.The refrigerator is empty. It is unlikely anyone resides here currently. The Asset wonders if it is a safe house for an agent somewhere. He does not remember any HYDRA safe houses in Scotland.He finds a box of wafers and a jar of peanut butter in the pantry. As the Asset James arms himself with the kitchen knives, Harry the Handler quickly begins spreading the condiment on the wafers, arranging them on a plate and pushing it toward the Asset James.The Asset James eats mechanically. Handlers typically have him consume nutrients intravenously.Both the voices in his head fret about the handler. Harry's gotta eat too. THE HANDLER REQUIRES SUFFICIENT NUTRIENTS. He cannot cannot order his handler to eat, so he says "Proper nourishment is necessary for optimum performance and survival."Watching the boy eat, and catch crumbs with his small hands, fills the Asset Jame's chest with a strange warmth. It is the mission, to ensure his handler's safety, but that is not usually accompanied by warmth. The boy's smile increases the feeling.The Asset James is still not used to this feeling, despite its occurrence over the days since finding the boy in the cupboard. He is not supposed to have them.He searches the cottage for snakes, and, after receiving permission from the handler, slips a shirt on under the dusty black robe and ties a cloth around his mouth and nose, obscuring his face. He should not have allowed the enemies to see his face in the first place. He should have eliminated them, but they are too powerful.Next, he starts up a computer. He is not sure when he was taught to use one but he is certain this technology had not been around the entire time he had been the Soldier. It must have been invented sometime when he was in cryo, and the new, unauthorized voice in his head won't shut up about "the things they make nowadays." It sounds awed, excited.The computer is still not fully powered on after 3.9 minutes. The Asset James observes the handler arranging magazines on a coffee table.The boy suddenly jabs a finger at one magazine with a mansion on the cover. "It's here!"The Asset glances at the mansion depicted. It seems far too large to function simply as living quarters, so the handler's assessment that there is a secure base stocked with everything they could possibly need inside is logical.There is likely even a chair, where the Asset James can be maintained, can be rid of the unauthorized voice and visions. He will be wiped before once again being given the mission to protect Harry the Handler. The mission will be more successful without his malfunctions."It's Batman's house." Harry the Handler declares, though the cover reads The Home of Tony Stark. The Base of Iron Man. The Asset James realizes his handler cannot read. Should he correct him, or is the magazine printed lies? It could be a trap, a test of his loyalty and trust toward his handler."That says Iron Man." The Asset James awaits punishment, but none comes.Harry nods, accepting the correction. "He has to know Batman! They're both superheroes. Do you know them, too, 'cos you're a hero?""No," the Asset James replies, simply. Something about the name Stark strikes him as familiar. A former target? A former handler?He suddenly remembers, when killing the occupants of the car, the woman had shouted the name Howard, while he killed the man. The Asset had killed the man, set it up to appear he had died at the wheel. How had he forgotten? He is supposed to provide accurate mission reports.That mission is irrelevant to the name Stark, he thinks. He was not told the target's names, does not know why the name Howard would be connected to Stark.Flipping through the magazine, the Asset James sees photos of the interior of the house, a couple red-and-gold suits of armor that almost rival the prosthesis in their design."He can prob'ly fix your star arm." the handler suggests. "He has a flying robot suit. Dudley said. But he didn't buy drills from Uncle Vewr-non so I got a beating."The Asset James clenches the damaged prosthesis, wanting to strangle Vernon Dursley again. No, he wants his death to be slower, more painful as he is slowly eviscerated. VERNON DURSLEY IS ALREADY ELIMINATED. He knows this, knows he should not want things, even if the want is to successfully eliminate a target.Still, the Asset James fumes. Nobody should treat his handler in that manner, and punishing the boy for something he didn't even do- Sounds familiar, doesn't it, pal? He ignores the voice, which speaks nonsense. The Asset deserves every punishment it is given.He snaps his attention back to the task, noticing the computer has finally booted up. After a few searches, the Asset James surmises that Tony Stark is perhaps the most qualified person alive to fix the prosthesis, judging from all the technological innovations the man has invented.The new voice won't shut up about those suits, either. They look highly efficient, obviously weaponized. The Asset James nods in approval.He searches for the Batcave as well, but that information appears to be classified. Everything claims it is fictional, and there are drawings as well as photos of a man dressed in a dark, bat-eared hood and cape.The Asset James turns to his handler. "The mission is to have Tony Stark- Codename: Iron Man- repair the prosthesis and provide intel on the location of the Batcave."Severus does not simply walk in a random direction from Hogsmeade in search of the boy. That is what a foolish Gryffindor would do.Severus's headache pounds in his head. This should have been over when they finally brought Harry to Hogwarts, but now he's chasing after them again. How many times are they going to play this game of cat-and-mouse?He summons the invisibility cloak, which he should have brought in case they'd been ambushed when entering the Whomping Willow or in the Shrieking Shack. Severus blames his lack of sleep and the mountains of new information for the oversight.Even exhausted, he plans. His thoughts feel slower, which is not ideal. He wonders if The Trace could be used to track the boy, but Potter is not the only underage wizard in Hogsmeade, and there is no guarantee he will use magic in the near future.He uses the same owl trick to track them down to a cottage in the surrounding highlands.Severus observes the boy and the soldier flipping through a magazine containing muggle, non-moving photographs of an elaborate mansion.Severus knows better than to engage the Asset again. The man is clearly more the Winter Soldier than James Buchanan Barnes, despite his past. He could, of course, immobilize the man again, except he had escaped even that. Severus wonders if Potter had used accidental magic to free the man.Severus remains under the invisibility cloak, and casts Expecto Patronum. The silvery doe runs silently toward the cottage, leaping through the closed window and landing in front of them.He watches the soldier tense, reaching for a knife, but the boy stares at the doe in awe. The boy slowly reaches out to touch the glowing animal.Severus could speak through the Patronus, but them hearing his voice would definitely not end well. Instead, the doe turns away and slowly heads for the door, gesturing for them to follow it.Potter stands up, gripping the magazine as he follows the symbol of his mother. The Soldier trails behind him, silent, like a deadly shadow.As they exit the cottage, Potter shows the doe the magazine. "We wan' ta go here. Iron Man's house. Can you help? The snake didn't."Severus briefly puzzles over the snake comment. Surely the boy can't speak Parseltongue, can he?Severus makes his Patronus lead the pair over to where he stands hidden under the cloak. Glancing at the magazine in the doe's silver light, he sees from the captions that it is indeed Tony Stark's house depicted in the photos.With the combined protection of the Winter Soldier and Iron Man, surely the boy will be safe and no longer Severus's concern. He's not entirely sure Dumbledore has the boy's best interest at heart, either. He'd taken a vow to protect the boy, but if Dumbledore placed him with Petunia Dursley in the first place, there's no telling where Harry will end up next.Severus grabs onto the boy and man and apparates before the Winter Soldier can throttle his invisible attacker.After more of that horrible, twisting tornado feeling, Harry squeezes his eyes shut. He manages to not throw up this time, but only barely. His stomach churns and he tastes vomit in his mouth.He doesn't want to be in the castle again. That doe wouldn't hurt him like those nasty bad guys, would it? It had seemed so gentle and warm and Harry trusted it immediately, like a long-forgotten memory.Opening his eyes, he sees Iron Man's house, which looks even bigger in real life than on the magazine. Perched on the edge of a cliff, it looks like it could eat the Dursleys' house for breakfast. Harry thinks the difference between this house and the Dursleys' is like the difference between Dudley and himself. One is incredibly large and looks like it has everything; the other is small and plain.He bites his lip worriedly. Why would Iron Man let a worthless boy like him in his house?To his immense relief, his Batman James is still with him this time. He isn't being dragged away by that other man. Harry clings to his robe, just in case, whispering in awe. "We're here."His Batman James climbs through an open window with Harry in his arms.Suddenly a voice appears out of nowhere. "Freeze, intruders. Identify yourselves."Harry freezes, glancing around and seeing no one. He feels his Batman tense next to him."Alfred?" Harry asks slowly. The voice sounds like Batman's butler, and speaks the same way Harry does (both Batman and his Batman Jame's voices sound different from anyone where Harry lived with the Dursleys).He's always imagined cleaning and cooking with Alfred would be a lot better than doing chores for his aunt. He doesn't think Alfred would yell at him as much, even though he's worthless, and he'd even get to see Batman."I am Jarvis, not Alfred." the voice doesn't sound angry, but Harry's Batman James still looks like he's about to fight. "Please state your business for trespassing onto Mr. Stark's property."Harry glances at James, who remains silent. Harry isn't sure why they're talking about business now, but he blurts out without thinking "My uncle tried 'ta do bus-ness with him. He works at Ger-unnings. But Mr. Stark didn't get any drills so I got a-" he shuts his mouth hastily."You are drill salesmen?" the voice- Jarvis, not Alfred- asks. He has that same tone that Harry heard Alfred use on the telly, he's not serious but he's not laughing either."I'm not interested!" another voice calls out, and Tony Stark walks into the room. Harry recognizes him from the magazines his Aunt read. She loved to gossip about his latest "scandalous fling" whatever that meant."You see, I've got all the top-of-the-line tools, and I really don't need any crappy drills from Grunnings-" Mr. Stark's eyes widen at Harry. "Hey, since when did Boy Scouts start selling drills? Where's your uniform, kid? Don't you need a uniform with badges and stuff? Why are you in my house instead of on my doorstep? Jarvis, did you let them in?"The man says this all very fast, barely pausing for breath."I did not let them in sir. They entered through the window."Mr. Stark looks at James. "Okay, wow, you look like you're two seconds away from murdering me. Who are you?""The Batman will not harm you if you cooperate." James speaks flat, like a robot again."Did you just call yourself Batman?" Mr. Stark looks like he's shocked and trying not to laugh at the same time. "Because you're wearing the mask the wrong way. You know, he covers his eyes and leaves his mouth bare, but you've got your mouth covered like some kind of western bandit.""He's not the real Batman." Harry scoffs before he can stop himself."Yeah, no kidding, kiddo." Mr. Stark mutters."A huge bad guy broke his arm." Harry explains. "Can you fix it?""Sorry, no can do. I'm not a doctor." Mr. Stark says, and Harry feels his Batman go even more rigid. "I've got the best doctors in the world on call, I could get one of them to help, but-"Harry frowns, hoping he doesn't mean the witch doctor. "Robot doctors?""Robots?" Mr. Stark grins, suddenly interested."You haf' ta fix his robot arm. Please. The bad guys broke it. He's a hero like you."Harry looks towards where the arm is hidden in the sleeve. James stares back at him, then quickly sheds the robe and pulls up the shirt sleeve. His eyes shift over to Mr. Stark and he says "Fix the prosthesis and provide the coordinates to the Batcave."Mr. Stark whistles, practically bouncing with excitement at the sight of the metal arm. "Well, would you look at that beauty? Guys, you came to the right place. I can't wait to get my hands on that arm.""Sir, I'm not sure this is a wise decision-" Alfred, no, Jarvis starts to stay, but Mr. Stark cuts him off."Can it, Jarvis. How often will a chance like this just come by?" Mr. Stark grins and beckons them with a hand. "Follow me, I'll get started on that arm, so long as you don't kill me first." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Stark's lab is underground, but is otherwise unlike the labs the Asset James is accustomed to. It is well-lit, with windows looking out from the cliff covering one wall. Sleek, chrome cars line the sides of the shop, and some part of him wonders if any of them can fly. Their owner has made flying, weaponized armor.The Asset James has to ignore the inner voice's elated rambling about how incredible the lab is, how it's better than Howard's. That does not make sense. Howard was, evidently, the man he'd assassinated in a car crash, not the owner of a lab. His brain is starting to mix up memories as well as forget mission details.Something about Stark seems... familiar, but the Asset James cannot place it.He does not see a maintenance chair in the room, nor a cryogenic chamber. He will not be fully repaired until they find the Batcave.Stark claps his hands. Loud, thumping music with screaming voices- similar to the monstrosity on the car radio- pounds throughout the room. Harry the Handler covers his ears, stating matter-of-factly that it is "hoodlum music""Geez, who ruined your taste in music? This is the best." Stark says, as the music drops to a volume that does not threaten the listener's auditory senses. "J, why'd you lower it? We have to fix this poor kid's musical taste. He's impressionable, right, we can turn this around.""I am not sure blowing out their eardrums is the best method to foster an appreciation of Black Sabbath, Sir." the invisible British voice replies in a dry tone. The Asset James is dissatisfied about his inability to locate the speaker. He should be more observant.He spots several cameras and speakers hidden throughout the room. Jarvis must be observing them from another location. This does not reassure the Asset James at all."Fine, whatever." Stark spreads his arms in a grand gesture at the lab. "This is where the magic happens.""...You're a freak?" Harry the Handler blurts out, clinging tighter to the Asset James. "But Aunt Tuna and Uncle Vewnon and Dudley like you... an' m-magic's not real.""It's not magic, it's science!" Stark declares with a grin, glancing back at them. "Come on, I'm expecting to see more excitement! I don't let just anyone into my lab."Harry the Handler looks around. After 4.9 seconds, he says "It's not the Batcave.""Of course not." Stark sounds vaguely offended, more so than when he was called a freak. "It's cooler. Batman wishes he had my lab."Harry the Handler looks as if he highly doubts that statement, but remains silent.Three large robots, each with one clawed appendage, roll around the room. One approaches them, beeping in what appears to be excitement. Robots cannot feel things, cannot malfunction as the Asset James is.The Asset James is ready to attack if the robot is hostile. His knives and the giant's umbrella with the weaponized stick had disappeared as they were teleported here. Can he take the robot down with his prosthesis in its current state?He glances around. There are all sorts of tools and items of furniture that can be turned into weapons at a moment's notice."Back, Dum-E." Stark orders, and the robot beeps and slowly retreats, its claw lowered. The man waves his hand toward a rolling chair, which has little resemblance to the Chair. "All right, take a seat, Terminator. Let me have a look at that arm of yours."The Asset James sits, frowning under his makeshift mask. His back is exposed. He scoots the chair until he is against the wall, where he can observe all parts of the room.Harry the Handler climbs into his lap, snuggling against his chest. The boy leans against the prosthesis, stiffens, and shifts over to the flesh arm without a word."Where did you even get that arm?" Stark never seems to stop talking. "Certainly not Hammer Tech. Justin can't engineer his way out of a paper bag."The Asset James remains silent. It is classified information he is never to reveal. But he is not HYDRA's asset anymore, he is Harry's.Stark raises an eyebrow. "If you hadn't threatened me earlier, I'd wonder if you could even talk."The man is quite pointedly waiting for a response. The Asset James glances at his handler."He can talk," Harry says to Stark, as if he's dumb. "Just not lots.""Well, buddy, you're gonna have to talk to me. I can't figure out what's wrong if you don't tell me.""Functionality of the prosthesis decreased to 45%. Jamming occurs at inopportune moments.""Sir," the invisible British voice speaks up suddenly. "Our guest is showing signs of distress. His heart rate and blood pressure are elevated."Stark pauses. "Which one?""The self-proclaimed Batman, sir." The Asset James is certain he's hidden any signs of discomfort, which he is not supposed to feel at all. He's remaining still and compliant for the technician, because his handler decided he needs maintenance.Harry the Handler peers around the room, looking for the voice's source but not asking the question aloud."Jarvis is an AI." Stark explains. "Kind of like my digital butler, so if you're looking for a guy in a suit, you're going to be disappointed.""Where is he?" Harry presses himself tighter against the Asset James, expecting protection for asking questions."All over the house, in my other properties too." Stark replies, picking up a screwdriver.Harry shakes his head. "No, Alfred. Where's Gof-fam?"Stark snorts. "You know Batman's not real, right?""You're real." Harry the Handler replies with finality.Stark runs a hand over his hair, then instructs the Asset James to demonstrate the flexibility- or the current lack thereof- of the prosthesis. At last, they are getting to the maintenance.Harry watches the prosthesis clunk and grind. After 1.4 minutes, he slips off of the Asset Jame's lap and approaches one of the robots, which is wiping a table with a stained cloth."Hey, kid, don't touch anything." Stark jabs a finger at the handler. "This lab isn't childproof, and if you die down here, Pepper will have my head." IF THE HANDLER DIES, THE ASSET WILL GET TO YOU FIRST. Not that he would ever let his handler die. Yet, at the rate he is malfunctioning, he might reach a point where he is unable to protect his handler. He needs maintenance to ensure his handler's safety."Kid, what are you doing?" Stark asks as the boy grabs a rag and starts wiping down the table alongside the robot. He has to stand on his toes to reach the top."Earnin' my keep. Mr. Stark, sir." the boy answers hastily. "I can clean.""I've got bots for that. Just get back on your dad's lap where you can't break anything." Tony gestures to the Asset James. Harry the Handler smiles, rushing back to clamber on his lap again.The warm feeling blossoms in the Asset James's chest, even when the boy mumbles that he isn't his dad.Stark mutters, seemingly to himself, about how he didn't expect a "creepy cyborg terminator" or "Oliver Twist" to show up at his house.Harry the Handler looks just as confused as the Asset James. "Tornadoes are twisty. I don't like being in them."Stark raises a brow. "What, are you Dorthy, now, Oliver?"Harry turns to whisper into to the Asset James's ear. "He doesn't know I'm Harry.""Should I know you?" Stark studies the boy. All the enemies had known who Harry was, but Stark seems completely unaware. "I'm sure you know me, of course."Harry the Handler nods."Start the repairs." the Asset James orders. Stark should be more efficient. For all his excitement about the prosthesis, Stark hasn't started working on it in the 3.7 minutes they've been in the lab. He is wasting critical time. "Do you need to be threatened again?"Stark curls in a smirk at the question, then purses them. "You're looking way too jumpy right now. I'm not big on causing people pain, or traumatizing them.""The Batman's pain is irrelevant. A functional prosthesis is essential for mission success."Stark stares for 2.9 seconds before speaking. "Okay, you proved me wrong- you can get creepier. What even is this mission, I mean-"The Asset James glowers at the man. "Fix it."Stark throws his hands up. "All right, Jarvis, let's start with some scans."Several floating blue images and models materialize in midair. Harry the Handler gapes, and Stark grins. "See, Oliver? Better than Batman.""You made da doe!" Harry's green eyes widen in realization."Doe?" Stark frowns, perplexed before turning to spin a transparent, blue model of the prosthesis. His gaze becomes razor sharp, rivaling even the Soldier in intensity and focus as he studies the projection."Jesus, what is this monstrosity?" Stark's excitement over the prosthesis has morphed to horror. "It's burning you up.""The prosthesis is heating his arm to 102.4" the computer Jarvis says. Is that Celsius or Fahrenheit?The man launches into a tirade about the prosthesis, which confuses the Asset James. The former handlers and technicians had never explained what was wrong with it. They made sure he'd need to return to them for maintenance."We're gonna have to open this up, get the heat down so it's not burning you." Stark shakes his head.The Asset James says nothing, tense as Stark picks up tools to open the plate by the shoulder.His mind feels disconnected during most of the procedure. He stays still, half-hearing Stark's horrified comment about the prosthesis being screwed to the bone, only distantly feeling Harry's too-light weight in his lap as the boy clings to his flesh arm.He thinks he might hear a low, gentle piano melody surround him, or his mind might be malfunctioning again.He snaps back to attention, seeing Stark's concerned expression in front of him. "Hey, how's it feel?"The Asset tests the joints, which still stall and grind ominously. "You did not repair the functionality.""That's gonna take more than one session." Stark runs a hand through his dark hair again. The Asset James frowns. Repairs are always one agonizing eternity, never broken into short sessions. "Does it feel cooler, like it's, you know, not burning you?""What are the coordinates of the Batcave?" Perhaps there, the other Batman will properly fix the Asset James. This lab does not even have proper wiping or storage equipment and the technician is not following an adequate schedule.Stark rolls his eyes. "Okay, I get the kid not distinguishing between fantasy and reality, but you? Well, it wouldn't surprise me if you had some screws loose, but let me spell this out for you. Batman. Is. Not. Real. If you go looking for the Batcave, you'll never find it. Capiche? Comprende?"Harry the Handler stares at Stark blankly, clearly not believing a word.At 0338 local time, the house is dark but not silent. He can hear Stark's horrid music thumping below him, though the sound is surprisingly muted.The Asset James cannot rest. He'd swept the mansion for security threats, despite Stark's assurances that it is one of the safest places in the world. Harry the Handler had taken a more literal approach to sweeping until Stark confiscated the broom, muttering "I'm not calling you Oliver Twist to have you act like him."The Soldier silently observes the 70 square meter bedroom Harry was given. Stark had given the Asset James his own room, but he had remained by his handler. Harry is curled into the farthest corner of the bedroom closet. He'd been obviously overwhelmed by the size of the room, unable to settle in the large bed.CHECK FOR THREATS keeps pounding in his head even as the same voice commands him to PROTECT THE HANDLER.The Asset James waits. If he were in optimal condition, he would think of nothing but the mission. He had missions where he lay in position for days, his focus never wavering from waiting for the perfect shot, or waiting for the target to show up.Now, his thoughts switch sporadically, from flashes of visions back to the mission, which has some unforeseen difficulties.He half expects the enemies with the weaponized sticks to materialize at any moment. The doe that had brought them to Stark had used the same teleportation method that the enemies had used when capturing them. Had the doe been an enemy? Harry the Handler had clearly trusted it.Part of him itches to go to the lab, demand Stark work on the prosthesis until it is fixed. Stark is supposed to be the most capable engineer in the world, but HYDRA's techs might have been finished by now.Harry the Handler lets out a soft cry from the closet. The Asset James is crouched by his handler's side in an instant. Before he's even thought of it, he runs the flesh hand through the boy's messy black hair.After 2.3 minutes, the boy mumbles something about green light, scooting back into the closet and shutting the door. He does not seem fully awake.Then there's the fact that Stark had said that Batcave is not real, which would mean that the mission objective is pointless. They cannot get to a location that does not exist.The Asset James should trust Stark. His handler obviously views him as an ally, but his handler had been disbelieving about the nonexistence of the Batcave."Are you all right?" the computer Jarvis speaks softly, whether to him or Harry the Handler, the Asset James is not sure. He still tenses, and the computer apologizes for startling him.He does not answer, but continues to stand guard by the closet, his thoughts whirling faster than the teleportation that brought them here.Harry slowly blinks awake, staring at the thin strip of light coming under the crack between the door and floor. He waits for his aunt to bang on the door, demanding he make breakfast, but the feet are much too large to be his aunt's.Harry's breath gets caught in his throat. It must be Uncle Vernon. Harry must have slept late, hadn't made breakfast for his uncle and cousin. He waits for the lock to click and the door to swing open, for his uncle's huge hand to grab him by the collar and pull him out of the cupboard. He knows he's in for a thrashing this time."Harry," the voice is not his uncle's roar or his aunt's shrill shout. This voice is deep but quiet, robotic but gentle at the same time.Harry pushes the door, realizing it's unlocked. "Mr. A'set James!" he sighs in relief. He remembers everything that's happened since the Dursleys. He's in Iron Man's house right now."Good morning, Master Harry." Jarvis speaks up. Harry frowns in confusion. Why's Jarvis calling him that, like how Alfred calls Batman Master Bruce on the telly? He's not a superhero. "I hope you slept well, though I do not understand why you relocated to the closet."The room seemed too big, like anything could be lurking and grab him. He knows that's dumb, because his Batman was right here, but being in a small place felt safer. He always knew he was alone in his cupboard, except for the spiders.Harry walks out of the bedroom, which is bigger than even Uncle Vernon and Aunt Tunia's room, across the massive living room and toward the kitchen to start breakfast. Mr. Asset James follows him silently, watching as Harry digs a pack of bacon out of the fridge and twists the knob to turn on the cooker.The fire doesn't come on. Harry frowns in confusion, wondering why it's broken. Of all people, he would've thought Iron Man had a working kitchen."I'm afraid you're too small to use the stove, Master Harry." Jarvis says. That makes no sense, Harry has been using the stove since he was even smaller."I haf' ta make breakfast." Harry explains. Does Jarvis want him to get in trouble?"If you're hungry, there's plenty of food available which does not require the use of dangerous appliances.""But I gotta make it.""Do you know how to make toast, Master Harry?" Jarvis asks. Harry almost laughs. Toast is so easy even a baby could do it! Wouldn't Mr. Stark want everything? Eggs and black pudding and bacon, all the stuff Uncle Vernon and Dudley ate? Dry toast is for bad boys like Harry.He slides bread into the toaster that looks much more impressive than the one at the Dursleys. His gaze drifts to the freezer. "Do you really go in there, Mr. A'set James, sir?""The Batman is not stored in a freezer." Mr. Asset James replies as he twists the cooker knob. The fire turns on for him.Harry pulls up a chair, standing next to his Batman, who seems determined to make sure he doesn't burn himself. Now that Uncle Vernon isn't here to press his hand to the flames, he doesn't.By the time he hears stumbling footsteps coming up the basement stairs, they have made eggs, sausage, toast and are in the middle of pancakes. Harry made a mess with pancakes at the Dursleys, but it's easier with his Batman's help.Mr. Stark emerges looking like a zombie."Good, you're not dead." the man groans, heading straight for the coffee pot. Harry winces. He hadn't even thought of coffee. Before he can fix it, Mr. Stark pushes a button and the machine starts making coffee.Harry has just finished flipping a pancake when the coffee finishes. Mr. Stark fills an Iron Man mug and gulps it down. Harry pushes a plate of food at him, which he ignores until he's finished two cups of coffee.Harry wonders if he should risk asking if he can have some toast, or if he should just wait for Mr. Stark to decide. Mr. Asset James had fed him even when he'd been bad, but Mr. Stark might be more strict."Kid, you've got to stop with this Oliver Twist act." Mr. Stark fixes him with a look while pushing a plate of eggs at him. "I don't want to add child labor to my laundry list of sins."He has a laundry list? Was Harry supposed to do that, too? "I'll do laundry. I promise."Mr. Stark eyes him. "That's just an expression. You don't have to do laundry.""But Uncle Vernon says I have to-""Your uncle sounds like a complete bast- uh, bad man.""Vernon Dursley has been eliminated."Mr. Stark whirls around at the sound of Mr. Asset James's voice. "Where the hel...heck did you come from?! Warn a guy next time, geez! I've got a heart condition here." he taps his glowing chest.Harry's Batman says nothing, seeming to blend into the kitchen. He'd be the best at hiding from Dudley and his friends, not that he'd have to hide. He could just stop them, since he's an adult."You just keep getting more and more disturbing." Mr. Stark shakes his head. "Eliminated, god. What are you, some kind of mercenary? You know, I never caught your name, Terminator.""He's James." Harry smiles. "Like my daddy, but better, 'cos he doesn't eat people.""You know, I wouldn't've ben surprised if you did eat people." Mr. Stark turns back to Harry. "Jarvis said you spent the night in the closet. My rooms are worth more than five stars, why are you hiding in a closet? That's just wrong."Harry looks down at the table, not sure how to answer. Mr. Stark doesn't let the silence last long. "All right, official rule. Everyone who sleeps here has to sleep in a bed.""While I agree with your sentiment, sir," Jarvis says. "That's a bit rich coming from a man who passes out in his lab eighty-five percent of the time.""When does maintenance start?" Mr. Asset James asks.Before Mr. Stark can reply, Jarvis speaks up. "Sir, Miss Potts is due to arrive in two minutes."Harry stands up, feeling torn. He knows he's supposed to do the washing up, but he also knows the rule for when guests come. Hide in his cupboard without making a sound.He rushes back to the closet, noticing his Batman following swiftly behind him."Tony, are you even listening to me?" Pepper demands."Not really," Tony answers bluntly. Pepper sends him one of her death glares, and he holds his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, you said something about a board meeting.""Yes, at one. You'll be there, won't you?" Pepper demands."Can't make any promises." Tony says. He's got far more interesting things to think about. Like the weird cyborg and child hiding in a closet.Which... would sound really weird if he said it aloud. Which is why he doesn't tell Pepper, even though he probably should. She's good at handling, well, anything really. But Tony really doesn't feel like the lecture he'd get from her, so for now, his two houseguests are his little secret.Tony's always loved puzzles and things that kept him interested and engaged. His two new guests definitely qualify.Granted, the prosthetic arm is a lot more horrifying than he'd originally realized, but his mind is already racing with ideas on how to improve it, or rebuild it from scratch.The man attached to the arm is almost equally horrifying. Everything about James screams danger, and one of the reasons Tony hadn't slept at all last night (apart from being busy) was because he would've expected to wake up and find the guy looming over his bed or something.Speaking of beds, hearing the boy spent the night in a closet was a real downer. Harry shows some obvious signs of abuse, and Tony has to wonder what he's been through. He surreptitiously looks up Vernon Dursley on his phone while Pepper talks. Initially, he appears to be a regular company man in a boring suburban place called Little Whinging. Or, appeared, since there is an obituary saying that the Dursley family- Vernon, Petunia and Dudley, died in a fire caused by the stove being left on.Somehow, Tony doubts that's the real cause.Pepper is too busy running his company to stick around, leaving Tony in peace."All right, Jarvis, call our guests down."Less than a minute later, Jarvis announces their arrival. Tony is quite glad, since he never would have noticed the man's arrival. That guy is silent, seeming to appear out of nowhere much like Natalie... Natasha had."Miss Potts is your handler." James says slowly. Figures the guy would be hiding in a bedroom yet still somehow be aware of what is going on around him."Well, she keeps my life in order. But I'm technically her boss. Are you SHIELD?" Tony asks, wondering if they'd sent other spies to observe him. If this is SHIELD, though, they've gone way overboard. Sending Natasha as an assistant was at least sort of normal- sending a cyborg and a child is decidedly less so.Something sardonic flashes in James's grey-blue eyes for an instant before they're lifeless again.Stark frowns at him. "Why are you still wearing that mask? There's no smog here, trust me. Jarvis provides great air filtration. Come on, take it off, relish in the ocean breeze." He glances at the window, which Jarvis helpfully opens. The sound of the surf and the smell of salty sea air drift into the lab.The man hesitates, glancing at Harry as if asking for permission. Tony voices his disbelief. "Are you taking orders from a two-year-old?"Harry frowns at him. "I'm four." He even holds up four bone-thin fingers, which is more heartbreaking than endearing. Tony doesn't know much about kids, and Jarvis could provide accurate data, but he's pretty sure most four-year-olds are far bigger than Harry.Slowly, James reaches up with his flesh arm and removes the cloth covering his mouth.Tony's glad he isn't holding anything fragile, because he would have dropped it in shock. Tony's rarely at a loss for words, but he's completely speechless at the the indisputable face of Bucky Barnes. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Stark has been staring at the Asset James for 7.8 seconds. The new voice asks Is there something on my face, pal? There can't be. The Asset James has just removed the makeshift mask. He watches Stark close his eyes and open them again, looking just as perplexed. "You're Bucky Barnes.""Who the hell is Bucky?" he asks, even as the unbidden visions flash through his mind. The blond-haired person as a skinny kid, a skinny man, a muscular man, the four girls, a soldier, all calling out for Bucky.They're visions he's seen since he started defecting, but another one emerges.He's strapped to a table, in pain, something familiar that makes sense. He's muttering, which is not allowed. "Three-Two-Five-Five-Seven..." The blond man leans over him, rips the restraints off. "Bucky." "Steve." "I thought you were dead." Steve says as he helps him up. He has a flesh arm, not a prosthesis. "I thought you were smaller." Harry the Handler wriggles on his lap. "He's James. Like the red engine." JAMES IS A DESIGNATED CODENAME. "James Buchanan Barnes." Stark says. The enemy asset had called him the same false name. The Asset James glances through the room, looking for a sign of the enemy asset. Surely the man is tampering with his mind.Stark grimaces, rubbing his temple. "There's no way. He died in 1945." Falling from the train, the man in the stars-and-stripes suit- Steve? Steve shouts "Bucky, no!" "Stop!" the Asset James breathes heavily, fists clenched, before realizing he snapped at a technician."Sorry," Harry the Handler whispers in a choked voice. The Asset James lowers his arms, stills his body, waiting for correction. The handler should not be the one apologizing.Stark scrutinizes him. Being scrutinized by technicians is familiar, routine, finally something that makes sense. Except Stark does not correct him either. "Jarvis, tell me I'm not hallucinating from sleep deprivation.""You are not, sir. His facial features are a match for Sergeant Barnes." the computer Jarvis says. Several floating transparent images materialize, showing a man with the Asset James's face. His hair is shorter, his face clean-shaven, there's a spark in his eye that makes him looks like a person.The Soldier is not a person. It is a weapon.Some of the photos feature the blond man from the visions as well. Steve, the new voice chants in his head.This has to be an elaborate scheme to destabilize the Soldier.Harry the Handler peers at the photos. "Is that Bruce Wayne?""What? No!" Stark throws his hands up. "Haven't you been listening? Geez, kid, you've been looking at his face for... how long? Don't you see? It's the exact same!"The Asset James cannot deny that his face is identical to the ones in the photos. The boy looks back and forth from the photos to his face, intently staring."Jarvis, how is this possible?" Stark asks. "Human cloning's nowhere near successful. He can't be his son or grandson or anything, can he?"Harry stops looking at the photos to stare intently at the Asset James. The boy doesn't speak, but the Asset James suspects he is once again wishing that his asset was his father."No, sir. His resemblance to Sergeant Barnes is too similar."The Asset James breathes sharply, his whole body tense as Stark rules out the option of a twin.Stark was supposed to fix him, rid him of the defects so he is once again operational. Instead, he is almost encouraging the malfunctions, the forbidden visions. Is he in league with the enemy asset?No. Harry the Handler views Stark as an ally. He is a designated technician for the Asset, unlike the enemies."Fix it." the Asset James is not sure if he means the prosthesis or his brain. He already knows Stark does not have a Chair, he needs to be relocated for a wipe, but he needs one so badly.How does Potts maintain Stark without a Chair or Cryogenic tube? From what he'd heard, Stark talks back to his handler, is mouthy in a way HYDRA would have punished severely. Clearly Potts, like Harry, is a much more lenient handler."Bucky-" Stark starts, then switches tactics when the prosthesis clenches, grinding loudly. "No, James... you're already calling yourself James. That's gotta mean something."James was a name designated by the handler. Does Harry believe he is James Buchanan Barnes as well?"Sir, his arm is burning again. I would hazard to guess it is linked to his emotional state."Stark lets out several expletives before glancing at Harry. "Pretend you didn't hear that, kid. All right, James. Can you take some deep breaths for me? I'm gonna need you to calm down before I start on your arm."He struggles to comply. His breathing is fast, harsh, erratic like his thoughts. The thoughts jump from Bucky to MAINTENANCE REQUIRED. His internal chronometer is malfunctioning as well, he does not know how long it is before his breathing returns to baseline.Stark slowly opens up a plate to the prosthesis, muttering under his breath.His mind flashes back to other maintenance sessions. Searing agony, the smell of burnt flesh, feeling as if he's being ripped apart and pieced back together again. Zola leaning over him as he stares at the prosthesis, proclaiming "Sergeant Barnes."There's a loud crash, and then silence. The Asset slowly focuses on the lab, realizing he'd thrown a wrench at one of the cars, completely destroying both the wrench and car door.He waits for the sound of guns loading, but does not hear any. Just a robot beeping almost frantically.Harry the Handler is on the floor, having fallen from his lap when the stood up. Why had the boy not stuck with his abilities this time? He is not crying as a child should, instead sitting silently in shock. THE ASSET HAS HARMED THE HANDLER. UNACCEPTABLE. He lowers his arm, breathing heavily. He's erratic, dangerous. He should not have moved or thrown anything. A wipe is required immediately.The new voice is telling him to crouch down, comfort the child as he'd done during his nightmare. What if he harms Harry the Handler again?The Asset James strides quickly from the lab, up the stairs. He finds himself standing in front of the freezer, staring blankly at its contents. The freezer is nowhere near the temperature required for cryogenic stasis, despite the handler's questions. Even if it was, he would have to rip out all the shelves in order to fit his body inside. He has already wrecked enough. RETURN TO THE HANDLER. PROTECT. How could he have left Harry? The enemies could appear at any moment to take the boy away, the Asset James has to remain by his side to protect him.On the other hand, he is unstable enough that he poses a threat to his handler. It is unacceptable.He heads towards the gym, and puts himself through a rigorous training regimen. The least he can do is keep the body in optimal condition as his mind deteriorates and the prosthesis remains damaged. It serves as punishment as well. He trains until his every nerve screams with agony, until every muscle is on fire.He finally collapses to the mat, his world reduced to pain, as it should be.It is not enough, he deserves more.He realizes he's broken several weights and two punching bags. They were clearly not built to account for his enhancements.Even more to punish him for.His eyes fall on his handler, who is near the boxing ring 3.3 meters away. The Asset James is surprised that Stark let the boy anywhere near him, then corrects the thought. Handlers outrank technicians.Harry regards the broken equipment fearfully, clearly expecting Stark to deliver a punishment when he discovers the damages. Harry will not be punished. The Asset James will take it for him.He kneels, head bowed submissively. Most handlers tower over him, making their superiority visually obvious, but Harry is about the same height on his feet as the Asset James is on his knees."Awaiting punishment." He notes that the boy has not received permanent injuries from his actions, though that only makes the situation marginally better.Harry the Handler eyes him cautiously, approaching him slowly as one would a dangerous animal. The Asset James tries to relax his shoulders more, to appear even less threatening."Are you hurt?" he asks the handler. Harry shrugs, not seeming particularly bothered about being dropped on the floor. Being tossed around was likely a regular occurrence at the Dursley residence.The Asset Jame's chest feels as if it is on fire, not just from the physical exertion.Stark enters the training room, undoubtedly noticing the ruined equipment, though he doesn't comment.Harry the Handler stammers out an apology about the broken equipment, as if it is his fault. Stark waves a hand dismissively. "Kid, for someone who looks like he's about to keel over, you've got one heck of a left hook."Those words send visions of the skinny blonde guy- Steve, the punk- flashing through his mind."You hurt my Batman," the boy's tone is unapologetic."I know," Stark looks almost guilty. "I thought it was a bad idea, but I couldn't just let the arm burn him.""Fix it.""After that reaction?!" Stark's voice is full of incredulity. "Where you just wrecked a car like some kind of knockoff brand super-soldier?"The Asset James turns to his handler. "A damaged Batman cannot protect you.""That's the mission, protecting him?" Stark asks. "From who? No offense, kid, but you don't look like some big-shot target. Are you the kid of someone influential? Trust me, I got kidnapped loads of times because of Howard."Howard the target? Did he have a lab? The Asset James does not ask questions, not that Stark would let him get a word in. "I don't think Jarvis has found a single record of your existence, kiddo. Not even in your relatives' obituary."The Asset James wasn't told why HYDRA wanted Harry, but he suspects they wanted him for his abilities. What the enemy asset, old man Dumbledore, and severe woman Minerva had wanted with him is another question entirely. They had abilities of their own, seemingly more in control than Harry's."My A'set James pr'tects me from bad guys." Harry answers. Is Stark cleared to receive mission intel?"Where are your parents?" Stark asks."Dey died in a car crash." Harry states matter-of-factly.Something flashes through Stark's eyes. "Same, kiddo. Same."The mind flashes to the roadside assassination, but the Asset James forces the image away as Stark turns to him."Okay, so you're protecting him. Great. But why does that mean you're taking orders from him? Unless he's like, royalty, and even then it'd be ridiculous. He doesn't look old enough to tie his shoes and from what I've gathered, his orders are to find a fictional location from comic books." FIND THE BATCAVE. Harry is the Handler. Still, some part of the Asset James knows a target should not be able to give a codeword, as the boy had. Harry should have remained a target. Then he would have been delivered to HYDRA, tied down, cut open, unmade.The prosthesis spasms as the mission blares KEEP HARRY FROM HYDRA."Maintenance is required on the prosthesis.""That can wait. You're safe here." Stark says. He is wrong. It cannot wait. They are being hunted, Harry is in danger. "I'm not doing it when it clearly pushes you over the breaking point.""The Batman James would not have acted erratically if it was properly maintained.""Maintained?" Stark asks, eyes narrowing."The visions need to be wiped from the mind for the Batman James to function properly."Harry the Handler's jaw drops. "You said that's what the bad guys'd do! Dumb-Bell-Door."The handler does not seem to understand the difference between enemies wiping him and handlers doing so. The latter is necessary."Wait, wait, wait." Stark makes several slashing motions through the air with his hands as he speaks. "Hold on a sec! You mean to tell me you've had memories erased? What the-"The man is his technician, he must answer. He waits exactly 1.0 second, as instructed, before replying. "Visions are to be removed. They make the Batman volatile and noncompliant."That report may be unnecessary. He'd just demonstrated that fact quite plainly.Stark massages his temples for 6.6 seconds, muttering expletives under his breath, along with how is this my life?"You mean to tell me," Stark says slowly, "That you expect your mind to be erased."According to all sources, Stark is a genius, yet he fails to grasp this simple concept. The Asset James gives another quick nod. Repeating this is inefficient."The bad guys were going ta." Harry the Handler briefs Stark. "But we ex-scaped.""All right, you've got a ridiculously fu-... funny idea of maintenance. I'm not going to give you amnesia or whatever. Seriously, how do you even do that?!""The current base does not possess the proper equipment." the Asset James replies. "Relocation to a base with a Chair is required. Possibly the Batcave." FIND THE BATCAVE. "No." Harry suddenly declares. "Batman won't do that!"If the other Batman will not wipe him properly, who will? Does anybody have a Chair besides HYDRA? AVOID HYDRA. Harry the Handler is still talking. "Batman won't! Only bad guy witches do that!"Stark arches a brow. "Witches? Is the final mission destination Never Land? Narnia?""Sir, I don't believe this is the time." Jarvis sounds strangely disapproving for a computerized voice. The Asset James wonders if Jarvis requires maintenance as well. That is not important to the mission."Handlers routinely wipe the Asset to prevent defects." How can the handler not understand, after what has just happened? There are enemies after both of them, from multiple organizations. Some of them the Asset James struggles against even when fully operational. Being as unstable as he is now is almost asking for mission failure, risking his handler's safety."What exactly are these visions of?" Stark asks. "Because I'd bet a hundred grand you've seen some shi- some real bad stuff." His eyes flick from the prosthesis to the Asset Jame's face, then Harry's. "Both of you. I mean, you just admitted it, but still." Pal, you don't know the half of it. The Asset James clenches his flesh fist, willing the voice to be silent. It is one of the defects causing all the problems in the first place."Green light an' bad guy laughs?" Harry the Handler asks knowingly. The Asset James does not recall a vision of green light. His handler's question requires an accurate report. Which vision should he even begin the report at? There are too many, he's not even sure if he remembers them all now.He lists the subjects, in a flat voice."Blond boy, later man. Skinny, then enhanced. Steve. Protection detail. War." Part of him does not want to see them go, but that part is drowned out by the logic that they impede the mission and his handler's safety."Four unidentified girls." Not the girls in he'd trained, the one who had called him Bucky. "Bein' called Bucky."Stark's eyes get progressively wider with each vision reported, especially when a trace of a Brooklyn accent, like the new voice, slips out at the last one. "Oh my god. It's really you. You survived falling from a train."The Asset James is 78% certain he has not mentioned the train vision yet, but with the way his mind is damaged, it wouldn't surprise him if he forgot already."We jumped off a train." Harry agrees."Kiddo, you weren't alive in 1945." Stark says, then makes a grand gesture to the Asset James "You're looking at a long-lost, and now found, war hero. Sergeant Barnes." Zola is leering down at him, calling him that. He raises the prosthesis- no, his left arm is flesh. The Asset James frowns. How can he have both those visions? He's always had the prosthesis.Harry is beaming at him, appearing even more awed than he'd been before. "I knew you're a hero, Mr. A'set James! Like Batman!" JAMES IS A DESIGNATED CODENAME. "Did you mean James Buchanan Barnes?"Harry shrugs, clearly under the false impression it isn't up to him. "You said you were James. In that dusty old house. So you're James."He could still be called Batman, James, whatever Harry wants after the wipe. But Harry clearly associates wipes with the enemies with the weaponized sticks, is obviously determined to avoid wiping him at all costs. Going back to HYDRA for a wipe is out of the question. They will hurt the handler."You do not wish to wipe the Batman." the Asset James clarifies, and Harry hastily affirms the statement. No wipes. The thought is so foreign that he can barely fathom such a thought exists. His handler called him James, but that was just a codename the boy seemed to like. "The Batman will be hindered by their presence.""It's not what he wants." Stark cuts in forcefully. "It's what you want. It's your head, they're your memories." As if that ever mattered. What Stark said is, if possible, even less comprehensible.Even if he had been Sergeant James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes at one point, he is not anymore. Not after HYDRA turned him into their Asset, the Winter Soldier.Yet he is not just the Asset anymore. Being Harry's asset means being the Batman, James, any other title Harry decides.Those aren't just designations, he realizes. They're new behaviors, programs, standards. Harry the Handler has not used him as a standard asset. The Asset James, codename Batman, has not been sent to assassinate any targets under the boy's command. He fights enemies as per standard, but his mission is to protect.It's too much. The voice, the visions. They clutter the mind, distract from the mission. But it is not his place to question his handler's decision, as dangerous as it may seem.C'mon, pal. I'm an asset on this mission. The voice is not the Asset, despite what it says. Is it James Buchanan Barnes? I've got years of experience lookin' after little punks. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Tony downs his third glass of scotch, staring at the mangled door of his Audi, which Dum-E had not-so-helpfully sprayed with a fire extinguisher.Taking in a cyborg and child who showed up out of nowhere probably wasn't the best idea to begin with, but he hadn't expected things to spiral this far this quickly. Even his earlier mental image of James- Bucky- murdering him in his bed somehow seems less extreme than what has actually gone down.Tony's a literal genius and even he's struggling to make sense of recent events. He's not even sure he wants to.Okay, he knew from the start that both his new houseguests have issues, have obviously seen some horrors. Not only does he have an abused British toddler in his house (does the kid even have documentation to be here legally? No matter, Jarvis can forge that), but also a cyborg super-soldier. The man's rigid posture, his elevated vitals as Tony inspected the arm had reminded Tony uncomfortably of himself.And it turns out the cyborg is none other than Bucky Goddamn Barnes. Howard would've wet himself if he found out Bucky was still alive. Somehow Bucky survived a fall from a train, been turned into a super-soldier who would probably rival Cap if he were alive.Tony shakes his head. The man isn't Bucky, not really. For starters, he's got that monstrosity of an arm. He undoubtedly has boatloads of trauma. Expecting him to be the Bucky from the history books is laughable.Tony had changed after three months in a cave in Afghanistan. Who knows what metaphorical caves James has endured in almost seventy years?Memory wipes. Christ. James had suggested removing "visions" as one would suggest removing a jacket when it got too hot, as if it was the only logical conclusion.Tony's certain the guy wasn't talking about getting blackout drunk, either. He'd said Tony didn't have the equipment, and god knows he's got enough booze to cause significant memory loss.Not only that, the way the guy knelt down submissively, his talking in the third person, calling himself "it". The whole pain is irrelevant thing.Tony downs another gulp to try and combat his pounding headache. He can't deal with this right now. He is so far over his head with these two. Tony's never been great with solving people problems. Tech problems are easy, but feelings, emotions? Not his forte at all.Hell, even Pepper would be unequipped to deal with the pair, and she's the most competent person Tony knows. She deals with Tony on a regular basis, stuck by him after Afghanistan and that whole fiasco with Vanko and Palladium poisoning.Pepper would probably say they need therapy. She's suggested Tony try therapy, but he's brushed that aside every time. Could he even get a therapist for James? His existence seems classified, and he doesn't trust Fury enough to turn to SHIELD. He'd probably take James away for testing or something.Trying to distract himself, Tony has Jarvis pull up clothing websites and goes through clothing options for their guests. It seems like they'll be staying with him for the foreseeable future, and they need more than what they have now."Perhaps we should let our guests pick their own clothes." Jarvis pauses and admits. "That might be challenging, seeing as both of them appear to have no concept of personal agency.""Sure. Let 'em know price doesn't matter." Tony's good at throwing money at problems, which does not always solve them.His throat burns pleasantly as he drinks more scotch, before Jarvis interrupts. "Sir, Master Harry is currently in possession of a knife."Wonderful. As if today hasn't been enough already. He really has to childproof his house, he thinks as he heads upstairs, not drunk enough to stumble yet.He finds Harry brandishing a large kitchen knife like a sword in the middle of the living room."I thought you were watching TV," Tony had set Harry in front of it. Wasn't TV supposed to entertain kids for hours and keep them from doing dangerous things like playing with knives?"I'm not 'lowed to watch telly. Only Dudley."Of course, Tony sighs. That still doesn't explain why he's holding a large knife.Tony rounds on James who, despite standing in front of Harry in the middle of the room, still somehow manages to blend in like a wallflower."Okay, I thought I was the worst possible parent material, but even I wouldn't let a toddler get ahold of a knife! I thought you had that whole protect mission!" He glares pointedly at James. Not that James acts anything like a parent, he defers to a toddler, which is messed up in its own right. But if he's so set on protecting the boy, why does he let him handle lethal weapons?"The handler needs a reliable method of self-defense, for when the Batman James defects." James speaks as tonelessly as always.From the way James is standing, it almost looks like he's inviting Harry to go at him with said knife. What the hell.James adds "His shields are inconsistent."Not even thinking about the shield comment, Tony sticks out a hand toward Harry and orders "Give me the knife. Now.""I know how'ta use it." Harry sounds way too nonchalant as he passes it over, but at least he does hand it over. Thank goodness for small favors. "Aun' Tuna had me cut stuff.""Well then it's a wonder you aren't missing some fingers. Or a whole hand." Tony mutters, glancing at James's prosthetic limb. It's probably rude to stare, but Tony's never let that stop him and James doesn't react anyway.Tony averts his eyes and goes to put the knife back in the drawer. He pauses, glancing back at his new residents. He needs a safe, and another drink. Even an armored safe probably wouldn't stop James for long."Who's after you anyway?" Tony asks. It's always a good idea to know who might be knocking on his door, and the way James and Harry just showed up the other day, well, unexpected visitors aren't out of the question."Bad guys." Harry says."Thanks, kid, that gives me tons of useful information." Okay, it's not his proudest moment sassing a toddler, but today's been kind of rough."HYDRA." James speaks up suddenly.Tony frowns at him. "You having a flashback there, James? HYDRA was defeated in 1945 by your good buddy Cap."Tony knows all to well what that's like. Sometimes after his own flashbacks, he thinks the Ten Rings are still a threat, even though he made sure to destroy them all.James just stares at him. He seems like the paranoid sort, and it's obvious his head is all scrambled. Maybe he's just remembering HYDRA and is on the run from an imaginary enemy.And yet, HYDRA is exactly the kind of evil organization that would drill a prosthetic arm into a guy's bone and completely erase his memories.Tony scrubs a hand over his face. What are the odds that more than one World War II relic isn't really gone?No, there's no way HYDRA's still around, right? Someone would've noticed. Fury, in all his paranoia would've sniffed it out. Not to mention Aunt Peggy, or even Howard back in the day."All right, listen here." he points at Harry, then realizes he's still holding the knife and thus aiming its tip at the boy. The murderous glare on James's face makes Tony's blood freeze, and he swears his heart skips a few beats. He places the knife down and raises his empty hands."Look, I'm Iron Man. I've got suits galore, Jarvis runs one of the most secure security systems in the world." He pauses, remembering how James had climbed in through a window. Okay, aside from that.Tony shifts his gaze to James. "Point is, keeping the kid safe is no problem. There's no need for him to run around with a knife."James studies him with icy eyes. "Are your suits resistant to weaponized sticks?""What, like quarterstaffs? Batons? I'm insulted you have to ask."James opens his mouth, but Tony interrupts before he says a single word. He is so done with this right now, and jabs a finger at Harry. "No knives, kid, I mean it. You've got the coolest superhero in the world looking out for you, plus one cyborg soldier."James looks completely unapologetic. "Your base does not have adequate firearms.""Yeah, well, I stopped weapons manufacturing years ago. Soon as I saw where they went. And even if I did have guns, I sure wouldn't let a toddler anywhere near one!"Harry glances at James, waiting for his take on the matter. "My Batman's teachin' me like Wobin.""No!" Tony shouts. Since when was he the responsible adult in the room? The world's done a complete one-eighty today and he'd really like it to go back to normal. "If I catch you holding a knife again- and trust me, Jarvis is always watching- I'll..." What will he do?"Lock me in my cupboard?" asks Harry as if it's the most natural thing in the world."God, no!""Week wit'out food?"Tony almost wants to slam his head into the wall. Just when he thinks today can't get any worse, these two go and prove him wrong in the most disturbing ways imaginable.And he'd thought talking the boy out of trying to clean up the destruction in the gym was bad. Harry had been persistent even though it was impossible for a boy his size- especially one as malnourished as he is- to move the broken equipment."I'm not going to abuse you, that's illegal. And wrong and- ugh." Tony pulls the knife drawer out of the cabinet and stalks toward the window, which Jarvis helpfully opens. He dumps the contents over the cliff watches them splash into the waves."There, no knives. Jarvis, increase security on my workshop. There's too many sharp, pointy things down there." Tony sighs. Dumping knives into the ocean probably wasn't his brightest idea.Glancing at James, he mutters "You could probably kill someone with a paper clip."James simply nods, which is sort of terrifying.Tony rubs his forehead. What had he even been planning on coming up for, before this whole knife incident?"You need clothes." Tony announces, handing them each a StarkPad, Harry's showing boys' clothes and James's showing menswear."I just wear Dudley's old tings." Harry says, not even glancing at the options and holding the tablet as if it might explode.Tony bites back a comment about the fire, instead saying "In this house, everyone gets their own clothes. So pick stuff out, don't worry about the price.""Are we goin' to Tesco?" Harry asks.Tony tries to explain buying things online. Harry looks completely lost, while James stares unblinkingly at the boy. "James, you pick your own stuff.""It is up to the handler to decide what the Batman James wears."He should've known even this would be impossible."Nope, everyone picks their own."Harry looks overwhelmed, and Jarvis instead has Harry's tablet show one shirt at a time. One is covered in Thomas the Tank Engine train characters, and the other is made to look like Robin's outfit from Batman, complete with a yellow cape. "Do you like these, Master Harry?"Harry's eyes are filled with longing before he looks away, fiddling with the hem of his own shirt.Tony sends an appreciative glance at his AI. Jarvis, as always, is better at people skills than his creator.When Jarvis brings up a matching Batman shirt in a men's size on James's tablet, James nods without even glancing at Harry. Tony's not even sure if that's what James prefers, or if he simply knows that's what Harry likes and is once again deferring to his "handler's" preferences.When asked his preferences, James says whatever is required for the mission, and somehow ends up looking at tactical military gear. He seems to at least know how to look at different options and navigate sites.Well, so much for James making his own decisions. Even Harry isn't actually voicing his opinions, though it's pretty obvious when he likes something but is trying to hide it.Tony knows recovery takes time. He's still not over Afghanistan, he may never be, so who's to say when James or Harry will recover, if ever? Even if they do, it's clearly bound to be a long, painful process.Sure enough, when Jarvis announces Pepper is due to arrive, Harry hightails it to his room again, and James follows behind him.Being on the receiving end of Pepper's wrath for missing the board meeting might honestly be a relief compared to the rest of today.Harry wakes with a gasp. Uncle Vernon was storming toward him and Aunt Tunia was shouting at him. To his relief, he'd seen Mr. James appear. Surely he'd stop Uncle Vernon.But then the bad guys came. Dumb-Bell-Door, and the greasy haired guy, the nurse and all the bad guys with guns. And they made Mr. James go all rigid and blank, and started to pull him away while Harry screamed. The giant appeared and beat his Batman up.He bites his fist to keep from crying, curled in the dark closet, and then he hears a sound outside his door. Not the sound of Uncle Vernon thundering down the stairs, or Aunt Tunia leading Dudley downstairs.He hears someone breathing very fast outside the cupboard. No, the closet. He's in a closet. Part of Harry wants to curl in the corner, but then he realizes it's Mr. Asset James. Slowly, he pushes the door open, still amazed to find it unlocked. He could even sneak to the fridge now.In the light from the huge window, he sees Mr. James laying on the floor, right outside the closet door. He'd slept on the floor in the ski place, too.Mr. James looks hurt, his face sad. He grunts in pain and mutters "Nyet."Harry remembers when Mr. Asset James had been dreaming on the train. Nighty had nosed him, and he'd pinned the dog down. Nighty ended up being a bad dog, but Harry's a bad boy.He doesn't want to be pinned down, he should probably stay away.But whenever he woke up from the green light, he'd wished someone would hold him, hug him and whisper that it was okay. Like Aunt Tunia did to Dudley. Harry used to hope she'd do it to him, too, but she never had.He wishes someone would hold him now, too.Harry doesn't know what Mr. James is saying, it sounds made-up like when the bad guys with guns showed up.Harry slowly scoots over and wraps his arms around his Batman's neck. Mr. James's metal arm feels hot again, so Harry avoids it.Mr. Asset James jerks, gasps then goes silent. He's good at being quiet, like how Harry bit his fist so he wouldn't cry and wake Uncle Vernon."It's okay." Harry whispers. He feels a hand reach up smooth his hair- Mr. Asset James's skin hand."Harry." his Batman breathes. Harry likes hearing his name, and he snuggles closer into the man's chest. This must be what it's like having a dad.Harry reaches to run his fingers through Mr. James's long hair. The man goes completely still."Uncle Vewnon was mad." Harry whispers after a bit. "An' you were there but da bad guys stopped you."Harry feels Mr. James's jaw clench tightly. "They could. They are hunting us."Harry had seen them freeze him for real, but they'd gotten away. They could get away again, right? "No. You're Batman. You're so strong an' brave."Aunt Tunia always said Dudley was strong and brave, when taking him down for hot chocolate after bad dreams. Dudley usually sobbed loudly, but Harry was pretty sure a lot of his cries were fake."The Batman is still defective.""Did you have vis-ons?" Harry asks."Affirmative. Fight in an alley. Shooting targets. Maintenance sessions." Harry feels Mr. James tremble the tiniest bit, then go still.It reminds him of when the bad guys made his Batman all rigid. Harry misses Mr. James combing his hand through his hair. Aunt Tunia always said Harry's hair was terrible, but Mr. James never said that."Get up," he whispers, hating how still the man is. It's like when the doctor witch was there.Mr. James immediately stands up, gripping Harry to his chest.Harry still doesn't understand why Mr. James said he needed that maintenance thing, when that's what the bad guys were going to do."If he tries'ta take your brain, I'm gonna kick him in the butt." Harry mumbles. He's not a superhero, but he kicked the nurse and punched Mr. Stark. He didn't get punished either time."That will most likely be ineffective." Mr. James says, and Harry rests his head against his shoulder. "Weapons would yield better results.""I can assure you, you are perfectly safe here." Jarvis says. "I have not observed any intruders."Hearing Jarvis's voice reminds Harry that they'd broken one of Mr. Stark's rules. He glances at the bed nervously. It's too big. The whole room is too big and bright to sleep in. The walls are too far apart."Mr. Stark's gonna be mad." Harry mumbles. He'd already made the man mad about the knife, but somehow avoided a beating for that. Maybe this will be too much."I believe Mr. Stark made the bed rule hastily, without taking your circumstances into account." Jarvis tells them. "He will not punish you for not sleeping in the bed.""Really?" Harry wonders if he's still asleep, because not being punished for breaking rules has to be a dream."Really, Master Harry. Might I suggest some hot chocolate?" Jarvis says.Harry's never made hot chocolate before, not even for Dudley. Jarvis helps him with the process, and Mr. James puts the mugs into the microwave. Jarvis had insisted they make two, for some reason.When they're done, Harry waits for Mr. James to take a mug, but he doesn't, just looks at Harry."It's for you." Harry whispers. Mr. James had a bad dream after all."And you, Master Harry." Jarvis says as Mr. James grabs a mug.Harry frowns. "Not Mr. Stark?""You helped make it. You should reap the benefits of your work." Harry never thought he'd be ordered to drink hot chocolate. Slowly, he takes a sip from the other mug.It's warm and sweet, even better than Harry imagined when he'd smelled it from his cupboard. He'd thought it smelled like the most wonderful thing in the world as his stomach rumbled in the dark."It's so yummy." Harry breathes, hardly believing he's tasting it.Mr. James sips his with an expressionless face, but repeats Harry's word. "Yummy."Harry giggles. It's funny seeing Mr. James, who's always so serious like Batman, say yummy.It's the best night Harry can remember, ever. Sitting in the kitchen, sipping hot cocoa with his Mr. Asset James. It feels like they're a family, like Aunt Tunia and Dudley. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Any other handler would have punished the Asset James for the nightmares before wiping him to ensure they did not happen again.Harry the Handler, on the other hand, has nightmares of his own, and expects the same treatment that the Asset James does, though perhaps not the Chair.Neither of them are punished, and Harry the Handler already made it clear the Chair will not be used. Instead, the computerized voice Jarvis instructs them to make hot chocolate, which the handler clearly enjoys and proclaims yummy. The beverage is overly sweet but warms the Asset James in a way he would've killed for after emerging from the cryogenic chamber.Too bad he didn't make coffee, the Bucky voice grumbles half-heartedly in his mind.At 0435, their hot chocolate is finished and Harry is attempting to clean the mugs, standing on a chair to reach the sink. The computerized voice Jarvis assures him it is not necessary, that if he places the mugs in the dishwasher they will be cleaned for them.Both the Asset James and his handler are too restless to resume sleep. James silently patrols the house, while the handler follows. By 0447, the Asset James is patrolling with the boy in his arms.He discovers several boxes by the front door which require his attention. CHECK FOR THREATS They could be explosive, or contain listening equipment planted by their enemies. None of them are big enough to be a Cryogenic Chamber."I scan all of Mr. Stark's packages in case of threats." The computerized voice Jarvis seems to be reading the Asset James's thoughts. It had mentioned his vitals before- can it read minds? "These boxes contain your new clothing."The computerized voice is an ally of the technician, so he should take its word. The Asset James slowly opens a box, shielding the handler with his own body.Jarvis had not lied. The Asset James unfolds a child's red shirt with an insignia of a yellow R on the left pectoral area. A yellow cape hangs off the back of the shirt."It's Robin!" Harry gasps, jabbing a finger at the insignia."I believe you wanted it, Master Harry."Harry looks away and mumbles "I don't need new clothes, Mr. Jarvis, sir.""I assure you, it was my pleasure." Jarvis tells him.The computerized voice is an ally, a superior, but the Asset James still inspects every garment for listening devices. He finds none, but slips on the Batman shirt, the prosthesis stalling partway through the sleeve until he forces it through. His new shirt comes with its own sweeping black cape, which seems impractical in combat situations.At least it ain't like wearing an American flag, says the Bucky voice. The Asset James agrees that the black Batman suit is much more fitting. He is accustomed to wearing all black.Harry glances at his Robin shirt, but does not put it on.Not all the boxes contain clothes. Several contain children's items, such as toys, picture books and art supplies."It's more'n Dudley's birthday." Harry the Handler looks shocked that such a number of items could exist. "It's a whole Tesco.""Not quite an entire Tesco, Master Harry." The computerized voice Jarvis sounds amused.There is a set of wooden Thomas trains and tracks, similar to the one Harry had admired at the Tesco where they'd been captured by the old man Dumbledore and enemy asset. Just as he had at the store, Harry makes no move to open the box. Instead, he carefully arranges the toys in their boxes. "You're makin' a Tesco." he says, under the impression that Stark will turn his base into a Tesco store.Stark stumbles up at 0721, grumbling about mornings. Harry whirls around with terror on his face and in his eyes. He rushes toward the stove, stammering about breakfast, but Stark herds him back over to the clothes and toys.Once he's brewed a mug of coffee, Stark remarks "I figured there's four years of birthdays to make up for." he waves a hand at the toys. "So happy birthday, kiddo. When is your birthday, do you know?"Harry shrugs. "You're not making Tesco?""Those are for you." Stark replies. "Why would I buy them just to resell them? I'm already a billionaire. Hey, kid, how come you're not wearing your Robin shirt?"Harry looks as if putting on the Robin shirt would be blasphemous, insulting Robin's image. "It's for me?""Does it look like it'll fit either of us?" Stark makes an impatient gesture. "Come on, put it on. Your 'Batman James' is already Batman. You'll look like those parent-child costume photos people go nuts over on Halloween."Slowly, Harry puts the Robin shirt on. He gazes down at the shirt covering his body for 13 seconds, then slowly smiles at the Asset James. "You're Batman!""Look at you, Robin. It really suits you." Tony grins, then holds up a child-sized Iron Man suit that appears to lack any of the armor or weapons, rendering it useless. "Course, if you dressed up as me, you'd be even cooler. You know, two billionaire superheroes with tons of tech."Harry gives the Iron Man suit a suitably dispassionate glance. "Batman's better.""Ouch, kid. You know how to kick a guy in the heart.""Is Robin Batman's handler?" the Asset James asks. Harry had mentioned that Batman taught Robin.Stark snorts. "Batman is Robin's adoptive dad. Plus his mentor, he certainly doesn't take orders from Robin." the man gives him a pointed look. He clearly thinks Harry being a handler is ridiculous. "But if anyone gives Robin a hard time, Batman beats the crap outta them. Uh- crud."Wonder how many alley fights Robin gets into, the Bucky voice drawls, even as the information slides into place in the Asset James's brain.Harry has been calling him Batman since before he was a handler. Even as a handler, the boy expressed the wish that the Asset James was his father, as Batman is, reportedly, Robin's.Now the boy has designated himself as Robin, Batman's son. HARRY THE HANDLER IS RELINQUISHING CONTROL. "You wish for your Batman to be your father." The Asset James watches his handler carefully. Harry's response is the same as in the dilapidated house. His eyes are full of hope and longing, yet heavily guarded with the clear expectation of rejection."You are Robin. I am your Batman." the Asset James tells his boy. "I will be your father."Harry stands unmoving for 34 seconds, seemingly unable to comprehend the words. I think we broke him. UNACCEPTABLE. "You'll... you'll be my dad?" he asks in a hushed whisper. "'Cos you're a James an' you give me food an' hold me after bad dreams?"The Asset James nods. Harry surges forward, wrapping his thin arms around the Asset James's legs, burying his face against them. The Asset James bends down, picks him up.The boy smiles at him, and the Asset James curls his mouth into a smile in return.Stark's voice is slightly choked, though he's clearly trying to pass it off as normal. "You missed your chance to say 'No. I am your father!' Course, you're getting kinda the opposite reaction from Luke screaming Nooooo!"Jarvis tells Stark it isn't the time."I will still protect you, Harry." the Asset James assures him."I'm with you 'til the end of the line." the Bucky voice sounds sad but determined. Steve flashes through the Asset James's mind.The same fierce protectiveness surges in his chest from when Harry was his handler and it was his mission. Keeping Harry safe is still a mission, he realizes, even though it was not commanded by a current handler. It had been what made him defect from the original mission in the first place, the reason he'd never delivered the boy to his previous handlers.Stark mutters under his breath "So you can say 'I'". If the boy is not his handler, he does not have to address himself solely by his title rather than pronouns.If Harry isn't his handler, who is? Harry had not passed the position to another, simply given the Asset James the role of "father" instead.Not having a handler seems impossible, but he hadn't had one since shortly after finding Harry. He'd been avoiding taking Harry to HYDRA, answering to nobody but the voices in his head.Can he do that again?Well, soldier, I was a sergeant, remarks the Bucky voice.Should he answer to the voice?Stark is a technician, not a handler. Harry had not passed command to the computerized voice Jarvis. Perhaps Stark's handler, Miss Potts, will take control."What do you want for breakfast, Mr. A'set..." Harry trails off, biting his lip. "Mr... Bat-dad?""Good question, but you're not making breakfast." Stark says. Harry opens his mouth, but Stark shakes his head. "Look, kid, your only chore here is being four years old. Start playing with all those toys you just got. Scream, run around, do whatever normal four-year-olds do. I wouldn't know, I was building circuit boards at that age.""I'm not normal." Harry protests."You are not a freak." the Asset James tells him, opening the Thomas train set. The wooden tracks and trains could be used as weapons as a last resort. Laying the tracks out on the floor seems particularly pointless, but he does it anyway.Harry points to a red tender locomotive with a gray face and the number five painted on the side. "That's James." He makes no move to pick up the toy engine.The Asset James pretends to struggle with fitting two tracks together. "Will you help?" he asks. Harry stares at him.The prosthesis spasms, splintering the piece it is holding.Harry takes the broken pieces and stashes them in the closet where he sleeps."Found anything yet, J?" Tony asks over the AC/DC music in his lab."Unfortunately not, sir." Jarvis replies. "I have fond no information regarding Sergeant Barnes past his supposed death in 1945."Tony sighs. Even being able to break into secure servers such as SHIELD's hasn't yielded results, and Jarvis has sifted through terabytes of data. Granted, they've still only hit the top of the iceberg. Maybe if they keep digging...He hasn't found any records for Harry. No birth certificate, doctor checkups or preschool enrollment forms to be found in association with the Dursleys. It makes sense in a twisted way- any doctor or preschool should have noticed the obvious flags of his neglect and abuse. No wonder the Dursleys kept Harry away from both.It still doesn't explain the lack of a birth certificate. He finds Petunia had a sister named Lily, but has found nothing about Harry's father. Vernon Dursley has a sister named Marjorie, who breeds bulldogs.Even when Tony's not actively interacting with his two new houseguests, they are inordinately challenging."What are our caped guests up to now?" Tony asks his AI. He's reasonably certain Harry hasn't gotten hold of another weapon, because Jarvis would have alerted him. They'd reportedly spent most of the morning in the gym, which reminds Tony that he needs to invent equipment that can withstand James's super strength."Master Harry is attempting to empty the dishwasher, despite my assurances he does not have to." Jarvis reports.Tony shakes his head. What four-year-old would do chores instead of play with the mountains of toys Tony bought? Well, that answer seems pretty obvious, one who was forced to work and was probably never allowed to play with toys in the first place.Suddenly, Jarvis says "Sir, I believe you should see this.""Don't tell me I forgot a knife." Tony groans.Jarvis pulls up a video feed of the pair. Both of them have not changed out of their Batman and Robin suits since they arrived that morning.He watches Harry knock a mug off the countertop, and it tumbles downward. Only it falls much slower than it should, defying the laws of physics."My sensors detected an odd disturbance during the incident." Jarvis reports.Tony replays the video several times, to make sure he hadn't been seeing things in a insomnia-induced haze.The video has not been slowed down- James and Harry are still moving at a normal speed. Well, James is moving faster than a normal human as he lunges over the counter to catch the mug.An astonished grin spreads over Tony's face. "Looks like one of them can use the Force."Tony rushes upstairs, excited, only to see Harry on the verge of a panic attack. He is clutching the cape of his Robin shirt like a security blanket and stammering an apology, as if preventing the mug from breaking was a bad thing.With seemingly practiced movements, James rubs the boy's back. At first, Harry flinches from the touch before seeming to melt into it. Tony is fairly certain Bucky had done the same to Steve Rogers back before the serum, when Steve had asthma attacks.Some mental switch seems to have flipped in James- he no longer treats Harry as a handler, had even called himself the boy's dad.Now, James manages to look intimidating even when comforting a child. Yet his face softens a bit as he murmurs words in Russian."Sorry." the boy sniffles."Seriously, no need to apologize." Tony jumps uninvited into the conversation. He's great at that and, well, this is his house. "Even if the mug broke, who cares? I sure don't. I can afford them."Harry stares at him warily."You didn't say you had the Force. What else can you do? Can you do mind tricks? Is that why he was obeying you?" Tony jerks his head toward James.The boy mutters that it wasn't him, in the least convincing lie Tony's ever heard.The only reply he gets is a terrifying glare from James and a clipped statement "You will not experiment on him. You are not his technician."Tony stays silent. As much as he wants to know everything, it is obvious the boy is traumatized by his own abilities or, more likely, other people's reactions to them.Like with James's prosthetic arm, he doesn't want to cause undue stress and pain."Your abilities are an asset." James tells Harry. His voice is soft, gentle even."Like you?""Even I cannot do that." James tells him."I didn't know you had superpowers, kid." Tony says easily, as if he sees them every day."They're not..." Harry trails off and asks in an awed voice "...Superpowers?""Sure looked like superpowers to me. Can you make force fields, too?" Tony grins, suddenly remembering a comment James made about shields. "Hey, can you fly? I can fly, but I had to invent my powers. Like Batman, we're both billionaires with loads of tech."Harry ducks his head before glancing over at James. "We fly'ed. An' I fly in my sleep, on moto-cycles... I knowed you know Batman!"Tony spends the next half hour trying to convince a preschooler that Batman is fictional, pulling up images from the comics. It almost feels like trying to ruin a kid's belief in Santa, except if Tony's not careful, the boy's going to go out looking for the Batcave. He's not sure if James would stop him or join him and apparently they've got people hunting after them.As soon as Harry sees screenshots of Michael Keaton, Christian Bale and other actors dressed as the Dark Knight, he immediately uses those as evidence of Batman being real."He's not jus' a drawing." the boy proclaims stubbornly, jabbing a finger at them."They're just playing a part, like how Steve Rogers just played Captain America at first." Tony tries to explain. Maybe it's not the best example, since Captain America became a real war hero instead of just a stage character used to raise bond money.Tony almost expects James to comment on that, seeing as how he seems to have sort of accepted formerly being James Buchanan Barnes, but the man remains silent.Harry apparently doesn't even know who Captain America is, and Tony almost envies him before realizing Harry's childhood was worse than never living up to Cap in Howard's mind.He gives up, instead refocusing on Harry's abilities. "You know what would be really cool? If you made Thomas move without touching him." He gestures to the blue train sitting innocently on the tracks. Jarvis hadn't even gotten motorized trains, just simple wooden ones the child has to push. How boring is that?Harry glances at the trains, which stay still."You don't have to keep them a secret." Tony says. "I'm terrible at the whole secret identity thing, I ended up telling the whole world I was Iron Man."Harry is not swayed, and Tony tries to coax him a few times throughout the day.Jarvis announces that Pepper is arriving that evening. Tony tries to stop Harry from fleeing to the closet, but Harry ignores him."Why is there a Thomas train set on your floor?" Pepper asks, studying Tony and clearly wondering how drunk he's been. She's probably expecting him to turn them into tiny robotic trains with laser eyes or something. Which, Tony thinks, would make them way cooler.Tony sighs. Looks like the gig is up, but he's so far out of his league here that he could really use the help."They're for the kid.""Kid?" Pepper demands. "Did you get someone pregnant?""No." Tony feels like that would have been a much easier scenario to deal with and explain, even with how the paparazzi would've gone wild for the scoop. "Hey, Robin, c'mon out here!"He waits, not sure if either of them will emerge from Harry's room. Eventually, James silently enters the living room, wearing the Batman hood over his eyes, his long hair tucked out of sight.Pepper heaves a long-suffering sigh. "Why do you have a man dressed as Batman?""You are Stark's handler." James states without preamble."It certainly feels like it." Pepper says, far too used to Tony's own greetings to be perturbed by some fact being flung at her without context."Are you the Batman's new handler?" James queries in a flat tone. "Harry did not designate a new handler when he relinquished his position. Stark is the technician.""Who's Harry?" Pepper asks. Tony sees Harry lurking in the doorway, before he rushes forward to cling to Jame's cape, peeking around the fabric at Pepper."Hello," Pepper smiles warmly at the tiny child. "I never expected to meet Robin."Harry stares back mutely, seeming at war with himself. Pepper turns to James and introduces herself, asking his name."Batman James, ma'am." James replies.Harry speaks up finally, in a voice still laden with disbelief. "He's my new dad.""Tony is?" Pepper asks, glancing his way. She mouths he looks starved at Tony, as if Tony didn't know. He may forget to eat, himself, but he wouldn't let a kid go hungry. Or, rather, Jarvis wouldn't.Harry shakes his head. "No, Mr. James. He's my Batman. An' he said he'd be my dad."Pepper glances between them. "I'm sure he's thrilled to have you as his son."James certainly hasn't acted thrilled, though he had smiled at the boy earlier. His smile had looked stiff, unpracticed, a far cry from the natural, easy grin Bucky had in old photos. Not that Tony blames him."Stark is not following an adequate schedule for a technician. He is delaying maintenance." James reports, and Tony's jaw drops. Did the cyborg just tattle on him? "The prosthesis must be operational."Pepper, who can usually handle anything thrown her way, looks bewildered. Tony sighs."All right, I've got a lot to fill you in on." Tony tells her, then glances at his guests. "Harry, go play with your toys or something. But no chores."Harry glances between Tony and James, then scurries off to his room.Tony gestures wearily to the couch and tells Pepper. "We'd better sit. This might take a while." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Mr. Stark had told Harry to play with toys, something he can't remember ever being told to do at the Dursleys'. He goes to the closet, where he'd stashed the pieces of the Thomas railroad track Mr. James had snapped like a twig.The bigger piece can be Batman, the littler one is Robin. Harry waves them in the air, pretending they're beating up bad guy witches and bad guys with guns. He does the noises in his head, knowing better than to make them aloud.Mr. James- who agreed to be his dad, Harry can still hardly believe it- follows Harry into the closet, which is far bigger than his cupboard was. Harry thinks the closets here might be bigger than Dudley's second bedroom, or even Dudley's first bedroom."You need to learn self-defense." Mr. James tells him. The last time Mr. James said that, Mr. Stark yelled at Harry for having a knife. Instead, Mr. James takes one of the broken track pieces. "Pretend this is a knife."Harry nods, and Mr. James teaches him how to do something he calls "disarming", which involves lots of ducking and then trying to twist the tracks out of Mr. James's hands."If this were a knife, you would not want to grab the blade." Mr. James doesn't punish him for doing it wrong. He doesn't even sound mad.Harry honestly forgets he's Harry for a while. He feels just like Robin, doing superhero things with Batman in the Batcave. He can't hear anything outside the closet, like he could from his cupboard, so it almost feels like they're the only people in the world."Good." his Batman dad says, when he ducks under a slow punch. Mr. James is going really easy on him, even Dudley punched faster, and Harry had seen Mr. James punch super fast and hard when fighting bad guys.Is it because his arm's hurt? Harry tries to frown, but he can't help a smiling at hearing he's doing something right. His new dad istelling him he's doing something right. It's all he ever dreamed of.Harry slips out of the way of the wooden track."What if it's Dumb-Bell-Door? With his wep-nized stick?""It is possible your abilities make you immune to the effects of the weaponized sticks." Mr. James answers slowly. "They did not immobilize you as they did to me."Harry isn't sure what he means until he says "They cannot or will not make you go still."Harry remembers Mr. James saying that his... asset superpowers were what helped him get up when they escaped the witch doctor. If he has to use his asset powers to help his dad move again, he will."What if I do a shield?" Harry waits for a punishment that doesn't come. He had seen the bad guys make them, but he'd also made one when jumping onto the train.His Batman dad nods. "That would be useful."There's a soft but firm knock on the closet door, so unlike Aunt Tunia hammering on the cupboard to wake Harry up. "May I speak with you?" It's Miss Potts.Harry's not sure why she's asking, and when he glances at Mr. James, he's pretty sure the man would only say yes."Yes ma'am." Harry answers quietly. He'd heard Mr. James call her that."May I open the door?" is her next question. She's a grown-up, she can do whatever she wants."Do you need some-ting cleaned, Miss Potts, ma'am?" Harry asks. Cleaning or cooking were the only reasons Aunt Tunia ever got him from his cupboard. Miss Potts's neck isn't as long as Aunt Tunia's, and she actually smiles at Harry.Harry hears Mr. Stark sigh loudly, as if he'd said something wrong.Miss Potts tells him that she doesn't need anything cleaned, so Harry has no idea why she's even opening the closet door. She doesn't ask why they're in a closet, like Mr. Stark did. Instead, she asks "Is this the Batcave?"Harry nods, sniggering. She'd seemed to really believe he was Robin, not knowing he was Harry like all the bad guys did. "We're dis-awming." he tells her, raising one of his arms. "To fight bad guys. I don't have a knife.""That's good. Knives aren't toys." Miss Potts tells him seriously, then asks Mr. Stark "You haven't made him a suit or anything, have you?""No, believe it or not, I haven't been giving a preschooler weapons. Even I'm not that reckless."Miss Potts turns back to Harry. "I see Tony and Jarvis went overboard buying you toys. Not that you don't deserve it. Do you want to show me some of the stuff you got?"She's smiling at him again. Harry holds up the broken tracks, but Miss Potts looks sad for some reason.She eventually coaxes him out of the closet and to the gigantic living room. She asks about the Thomas trains and Harry slowly pushes James the Red Engine up his dad's robot arm. James the Red Engine's wheels click-clack over the grooves in Mr. James's arm once the sleeve of his Batman shirt is pushed up.Mr. James speaks in a quiet voice as Harry runs the train back down his arm, "Have you ordered Stark to improve his maintenance schedule?""Tony ignored my schedules for years." Miss Potts shakes her head. "But it's not up to me to decide when your arm is fixed, James. It's whenever you feel ready."Harry can't tell if the next thing his dad says is a question or not "You are not the new handler.""I'm not going to make medical decisions for you." Miss Potts tells him. "You're an adult. You're allowed to make your own decisions."Mr. James just looks at Miss Potts for a bit. Harry thinks his dad's eyes almost look confused behind his mask. Then he turns to Mr. Stark and orders "Fix it. One session. Now."Mr. Stark huffs loudly, running his hand through his hair. "I told you, I'm not going to torture you just to fix the arm. And I sure hope you're not still asking about the mind wipes.""The prosthesis must remain operational." Mr. James states in his usual voice, then slowly adds "...I need it to protect my han- Harry. My boy.""What if the giant comes?" Harry demands, glaring at Mr. Stark. He'd said he'd fix Mr. James's robot arm, but he hasn't, so Harry's new dad is still hurt."Giant?" Miss Potts asks. "Tony says you told him there are people looking for you. People who want to hurt you."Harry nods and whispers "Like Uncle Vewnon.""Your uncle cannot hurt you." Harry feels his Bat Dad's flesh hand rest on his shoulder. "I made sure of that."Miss Potts looks at Mr. James for a long moment, then back at Harry. "Did your uncle hurt you?"Harry nods. "He burned my hand on da cooker. My Batman helped." He'd bandaged Harry just like Aunt Tunia always helped Dudley when he got hurt, only without all the kissing. His hand is completely fine now, but his dad's arm is still broken.Miss Potts looks sick. "He burned you?!""I d'served it.""I can promise you, whatever you did, you did not deserve to be hurt." Miss Potts sounds so sure, maybe even more sure than when Uncle Vernon and Aunt Tunia said he was good for nothing. Harry doesn't answer. Once she realizes he isn't Robin, she'll know he did.Miss Potts takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry that happened to you."Why is she sorry?"The Dursleys were not the correct placement for you, Harry." Harry's dad tells him in a firm voice. "I… could not deliver you to another incorrect placement. The only proper placement is under my protection."Harry smiles. His Batman looked out for him since finding him in his cupboard, before he even looked like Robin. Harry clings to his dad's leg, wrapping himself under the dark cape, as his dad tells Mr. Stark "I cannot protect him fully with a damaged prosthesis.""You aren't gonna give up on this, are you?" Mr. Stark sighs. "I'm trying to save you undue pain and trauma. And don't you dare say-""Pain is irrelevant." Mr. James says. Mr. Stark gives a long groan."Look, I'll use literally all my tech making sure nobody hurts either of you." Mr. Stark promises. Harry's eyes go wide. He wonders what the Dursleys would say if they heard Iron Man promise to protect him, and say Harry has superpowers instead of saying he's a freak. "My suits are even better than your arm.""Use your tech to fix the prosthesis." Mr. James almost growls."Fine! But you better not wreck another one of my cars." Mr. Stark then turns to Miss Potts. "And you say I have self-destructive habits. At least I don't demand surgery."To be fair, the first time Tony had worked on the prosthetic arm, James had been eerily still and blank-faced. It was only the second time when he'd snapped.The only reason Tony agreed to work on the cybernetic arm now was because he'd bet James would start poking in it himself if Tony didn't, and probably cause even more pain and damage.Pepper had left for a conference call with some foreign company, leaving Tony alone with his houseguests. Unlike him, she actually has a company to run.Now, James sits with his back against the wall and Harry in his lap. James had started to tell Harry to keep away, and after what happened last time, Tony isn't surprised. Harry hadn't listened, and is now wedged against James's chest, seeming to stick to him like an octopus. James actually relaxed minutely once Harry settled down.Both of them are clearly unused to contact that doesn't hurt.A video of does and fawns frolicking through the woods plays on a holographic screen. It seems to keep the flashbacks from getting too intense, as they reportedly had last time. Well, Tony assumes they were flashbacks, James had reported them as "visions" in that disturbingly detached manner of his.Sparks jump from the wiring in the prosthesis, but James doesn't react. Tony forces the thought that James has to have felt that away and keeps working, reconnecting wires.Even with its horrifying design, he can't deny that the cybernetic arm is an incredible piece of engineering. Tony could see from the way it moved, when it wasn't stalling, that it almost rivaled his own Iron Man suits.As he slowly repairs the gears and wires, he asks "How'd this happen again? Oliver, you said something about a giant?"From a kid's perspective, any adult would be a giant."At the castle. But my Batman dad beated him up wit' a tree."Tony isn't remotely surprised to hear James could use a tree as a weapon."What castle?" he prods, hoping to find some clue of where they came from, and who else was there.Harry shrugs, saying something about being taken in a tornado, as he had when he arrived. "An' they taked my Bat-Dad away, an' Dumb-Bell-Door tried'ta take his mem'ries and cook me in the fire.""Dumb-bell-door?" Tony mutters. "Who's that? The leader of a cannibal cult?""Dumbledore is an enemy in possession of a weaponized stick." James's voice doesn't betray any pain he's undoubtedly in. Tony, who had an electromagnet put in his chest with no pain relief in a cave, winces in sympathy.James continues speaking as if nothing's happening to him, even though his vitals are probably skyrocketed. "The weaponized sticks allow specific users to levitate and immobilize opponents, fire energy projectiles, create shields and teleport."It sounds completely out there. With the man's talk of mind wipes, Tony would wonder if he's lost all touch with reality. James seems to think both Batman and HYDRA are real, and what he's describing now sounds a lot like wizards and wands.And yet, Tony had seen Harry's superpowers, which to the layman would look exactly like magic. Even Tony thinks it looks like magic, though there has to be some sort of scientific explanation."They have bad guy powers." Harry says simply. Tony has to wonder if he has the same powers, though, with the way he sort of levitated a mug."So, you're telling me wizards are after you." Tony keeps his tone light, as if he's humoring them. Another wire sparks, but James doesn't even flinch, much less hurl a object with a force to destroy a car door. "Wizards who society just happens to have not noticed?""Society fails to notice many things." James intones, and geez, he sounds like the wildest conspiracy theorist. "Order must be brought about. Society is too weak to stand on its own."Tony frowns. "Tell me I didn't invite a guy with plans of world domination into my home."It sounds like it should be part of the monologue a power-hungry villain set on conquering the world would give. James makes it sound more like brainwashing, like he's merely repeating what he's been told.Hell, it sounds like the twisted worldview of HYDRA.Pieces have been building up in Tony's mind. The use of the word Asset sounds significant, James must speak Russian for some reason. Tony already doubts he'll like the finished picture of this puzzle, given the fact that memory wipes and torture seem to be on the table.Still, he gathers the information in his head, determined to have Jarvis look into it. "Jarvis, look into wizards for me, will you?""That's something I never thought you'd ask, sir." Jarvis replies dryly."So, wizards are after you." Tony asks while fiddling with the arm's mechanics. "How come? You aren't a wizard, are you?""No!" Harry sounds offended on James's behalf. "He's not a freak like my other dad.""The weaponized sticks do not respond to me." James studies him. "They are after Harry. He seems to be a person of significant interest. They would take Harry and perform a wipe with their weaponized sticks.""So they're the basta- bad guys who wiped you before?"James looks at Tony as if he's being dumb on purpose. "Negative. The Chair is used for wipes. The Chair provides electroshock stimulation to the brain to remove visions and... memories."Tony stills. It's obvious James has been through hell since he'd been Bucky Barnes, but hearing the torturous method of memory removal is even worse than hearing it happened in the first place, or seeing him so submissively wait for punishment.Tony's had some up close and personal experiences with torture. Technically, this un-sedated operation he's performing now is probably torture, but for James it's clearly routine. The fact he'd suggested it earlier makes Tony feel sick.Tony has to force his hands to stop shaking at the thought, and he wasn't even the one who went through maintenance. Is going through it now.James sends him a look telling him to continue, and Tony forces himself to take deep breaths."Sorry," Tony winces, but James doesn't reply.Tony tries to start a more lighthearted conversation, telling his guests stories of when Dum-E had broken things like mugs. Harry asks about Dum-E's punishments, and Tony has to leave out the parts where he'd threatened to sell the robot for scrap metal. Not that he'd ever really meant it, of course, but he doubts Harry or James would pick up on the hollowness of the threat."You know, I'm not even mad about you wrecking my car." Tony tells James. "I fell through the windshield when I was testing my suit's flight. And I've destroyed a few with repulsor blasts."James is watching him, his expression blank but something almost amused flashes through his eyes, so quickly Tony thinks he might have imagined it.Finally, Tony sets down his tools. James tests the flexibility of the cybernetic arm. The arm no longer stalls or grinds. Of course it doesn't, with Tony as the mechanic. It moves flawlessly as James puts it through its paces, performing several stretches and fine-motor skills.Honestly, the thing might even be even more dexterous than Tony's Iron Man gauntlets. It clearly lacks repulsors, but is still obviously a weapon.James nods in satisfaction after picking up a screwdriver and effortlessly flipping and catching the tool. "Functionality is restored."Tony senses an unsaid about time in that statement.Tony studies it intently. "It doesn't hurt, does it? You have to tell me if it hurts. I don't care what others said, your pain is important. Sheesh.""Are you hurt?" Harry echoes, voice trembling slightly.James rotates the arm in a full circle, then slowly reports "Pain is below usual parameters."The Asset James does not think he's ever been a father before. The mission parameters are unclear.At 1146 the following day, after another patrol, he finds himself reading aloud to Harry from a book the computerized voice Jarvis had ordered with high recommendations. Matilda by Roald Dahl is about an extraordinary little girl burdened with an extraordinarily stupid and petty family. Her parents clearly don't want her around and prefer her brother.James wonders if the computerized voice Jarvis picked the book for the similarities with Harry's relatives, or the fact that the summary on the back cover mentions Matilda develops telekinetic powers. Harry has not used his abilities since prolonging the mug's descent, despite Stark's excitement over the prospect.When he reads about Matilda putting superglue on her father's hat so it sticks to his head, Harry laughs so hard his whole body shakes. It fills James's chest with warmth.Harry's so busy laughing that he does not even run to the Batcave closet when Miss Potts arrives. Her obvious competence and the way she radiates authority send memory snippets of an unidentified woman flashing through his mind. The Bucky voice says Carter. Despite being the handler of Stark, Potts turned down being the Asset James's handler. He has nobody to answer to but the voices in his head. Still, he finds himself unconsciously standing at attention in her presence."I glu-ed Uncle Vewnon's hat to his head." Harry tells her, still snickering. James knows he is merely copying the story, but Miss Potts plays along."Did it get stuck on his head?"Harry nods, stuffing his fists in his mouth to smother his giggles.Potts turns to James and starts discussing therapy."Nobody expects you to be who you were, but it's obvious you've experienced trauma." she tells James.Bit of an understatement there, says the Bucky voice."I'm not qualified to help you." Potts continues, "But I know SHIELD has several therapists who are cleared to handle... classified cases."James goes rigid. He had heard whispers of SHIELD from techs and agents. Some made the organization sound like a joke, even though he knew that several members were high-risk targets. He knows Rumlow and other STRIKE members have positions in SHIELD as well, from their conversations when they thought he wasn't listening.No matter what, SHIELD would separate him from Harry, attempt to take the Asset James into custody.Harry's ours, snarls the Bucky voice. They won't take him. The mission blares in his head. AVOID SHIELD. AVOID HYDRA. Harry is no longer a handler, but the mission has remained the same.He should have checked Potts first, the lack is a tactical error.James gathers Harry into his arms. He is adept at avoiding or disabling security cameras, but Jarvis is omnipotent to what goes on in Stark's house. The Batman James could have broken into the lab easily, could have hot-wired a car and drove away even with Tony in the lab. He is always silent, but with the music blaring from the speakers, he could have clomped around and still been unheard.Jarvis announces James's presence as he's breaking in. The music lowers in volume, and Tony turns to him."Huh, now you're going Grand Theft Auto on me?" Stark looks mock-hurt. "I fix your cybernetic issues and you just up and bail?"James doesn't deign him with an answer. They are in danger. Potts could have contacted SHIELD hours ago, agents could swarm in at any moment."Jarvis told me you kind of freaked out when Pepper mentioned SHIELD." Stark continues. "I guess that should seem suspicious, but you know what? I don't trust them either."All of Stark's vehicles are far too elegant to provide the necessary cover of a getaway vehicle, but he could always switch cars on the road."I've been digging through their databases. Found some pretty sketchy stuff. Nothing about wizards yet. I'd say you were delusional, except Oliver has superpowers.""My Batman kicked the em-eny asset's butt. And the giant's." Harry's voice is full of pride, even though the enemy asset had successfully immobilized James more recently.Stark clears his throat and continues talking. "I did, however, find that my former assistant-slash-secret-spy got shot through her body by an unknown assassin. She's scarily competent, so the fact someone got her by surprise..." Stark studies him."It might be a stretch, but you seem kind of assassin-y in general and definitely skilled enough to do that. So I wouldn't be surprised if SHIELD is after you."James doesn't confirm it, but he doesn't deny it, either. He remembers that mission, shooting the target through the red-haired agent tasked with the target's protection. The bullet went through the agent's abdomen to eliminate the target. THE WITNESS WAS NOT ELIMINATED Stark is studying him with intelligent eyes. "I'm not going to turn you in. I'm getting the impression you didn't have a whole lot of say in whatever you did, given all that awful stuff you've told me. But trust me, you're safer here than on the road, so stay a while."James slowly gets out of the car, which did not have adequate safety features for Harry. The engine rumbles to a stop.Potts enters the lab, and James immediately faces the woman."I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." she sounds completely sincere, but then pulls Stark to the other end of the lab. They speak in hushed voices that the Batman James still easily hears with his enhanced senses."How does he even know about SHIELD?" Potts is asking. "Doesn't that seem suspicious to you?""SHIELD seems suspicious to me." Stark fires back, loud enough that James would have heard it without enhancements.Harry shifts nervously, muttering a question as to whether they're discussing the shields he makes with his powers.James assures his boy that is not the topic of discussion, then informs Stark and Potts of something he knows is classified, something he would be forbidden to reveal. "HYDRA has several agents working undercover inside SHIELD." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Stark whirls around. "What did you just say?"The Asset James has divulged classified intel, intel he was not supposed to be privy to in the first place. HYDRA kept him muzzled to ensure silence and wordless compliance, he never would have disclosed that information under their control.He has divulged the intel without questioning. He has not been forced to drink a beverage that made him compliant to interrogation, as he had while being questioned by the enemy asset."HYDRA?" Potts appears genuinely shocked. "No, they were defeated in World War Two."James watches her. She may not be reporting to HYDRA, but if HYDRA agents are in SHIELD, it makes little difference. They will find him. The punishment will be severe- several methods of corporal punishment, followed by an extended period in the Chair. They will quite possibly wipe him until he forgets even his handlers and past missions. He will start anew as an empty asset to be reconditioned into the Winter Soldier.Worse, they will hurt Harry, possibly try to turn the boy into an asset.The newly-repaired prosthesis clenches into a fist, the Batman James's jaw tightens at the thought of Harry being beaten, electrocuted, wiped.PROTECT HARRY. He will eliminate anyone who attempts to harm his boy. His son.Stark eyes him as if he is a puzzle to be solved, but there is something sympathetic in his gaze. "You weren't having a flashback that time you said they were after you, were you?"James grips Harry and replies. "HYDRA is not the visions. Memories.""But they were defeated." Potts repeats."Well, everyone thought he died in the war, too." Stark gestures at James. James knows the man hadn't believed him when he said HYDRA was after them, but he appears to be considering it more now. "Well, part of him did."James does not waste any time wondering if the dead part Stark is referring to is the flesh arm, or the Bucky voice."He didn't die." Harry scowls in confusion, prodding James with a finger to be certain. "My other James dad died, and my mummy. Not my Batman A'set dad.""HYDRA must've found him and..." Stark glances at the prosthesis, then rounds on Potts, who is giving Harry a sympathetic look. "Did you tell SHIELD about him?""No." Potts answers, and James does not observe any signs of deception in her demeanor or tone. His muscles relax minutely.He is certain that HYDRA is still hunting him and Harry as they speak, but at least SHIELD has not been alerted to their presence here by Potts."We tell no one. Not Fury, or Rushman- I mean Romanoff." Stark turns to scrutinize James once more. "Hey, either of those names ring a bell? Are either of them HYDRA? I really hope not, that would be terrifying."James had heard some of the STRIKE team members joke about how blind Fury was, but other than that, he heard nothing.Stark crosses his arms. "Come on, Terminator. I need names, something. You can't just say HYDRA's infiltrated SHIELD and have nothing to back it up."James carefully analyzes his options. Stark does not seem to support SHIELD, and clearly disapproves of HYDRA. If he intended to hand them over, he would have done so already, and he had promised not to turn James in 2.8 minutes ago.James reports two names. "Rumlow. Rollins." He can't recall the names of the other STRIKE team operatives, but he remembers them.SILENCE, the old voice gives conflicting orders, since it has been telling him to avoid HYDRA since Harry became a handler. He is not supposed to reveal HYDRA's existence, or the STRIKE team's true loyalty, but making the intel known may help with protecting Harry.Serves the bastards right, the Bucky voice seethes in his head."Jarvis, find out everything about them." Stark orders, his voice steely and his eyes filled with calculating suspicion."Already on it, Sir." the computerized voice replies as holographic images of Rumlow and Rollins materialize. Stark asks if James meant them, and James nods once to confirm."From their files, they appear to be SHIELD special-ops, but it is unlikely they'd have 'HYDRA' written down if they are undercover.""Keep digging." Stark says to his mechanical butler, before addressing James again. "Who else is HYDRA?"He is unaware of the names of many of his handlers. They kept changing, he'd be put in cryo by one handler and another would be there when he was thawed. Several spoke Russian, but he is uncertain how long ago those handlers were."They're bad guys with guns." Harry shares, wriggling in James's arms and looking at James for confirmation. "If they come, we'll dis-arm 'em. And we can glue their guns and wep-nized sticks."Harry reaches for a bottle of superglue on a rolling table 0.7 meters away. One of the robots zooms forward to grab the bottle with its claw, waving it in the air and offering it to Harry."Dum-E, put it down." Stark orders. "Maybe he'll summon it with his Force powers. Hey, Harry, can pull it to you without touching it?"James wordlessly strides to the table, picking up the glue and handing it to Harry. He won't let Stark turn his boy into a test subject, no matter if Stark repaired the prosthesis and is not turning them in.Harry brandishes the glue like a sword, squeezing the bottle."Careful." Potts says to Harry. "You don't want to get your fingers stuck together."Harry shrugs and glances at James. "I don't get sticked, right?" James nods. Harry had been the one to free him in the castle. Harry's green eyes light up, and he declares "I can tell snakes to bite them!"In the next 2.4 minutes, Stark fires off sixteen more questions about HYDRA, twelve of which James is unable to answer. He was only ever informed of his missions, never HYDRA's overall plans.After the sixteenth question, Stark scrubs a hand over his face. "Sorry. This isn't supposed to be an interrogation. I know how horrible those are." His eyes appear haunted for 1.7 seconds before clearing. "It's just, this is huge news, and we need as much information as we can get. Jarvis and I'll keep digging, and if you're right, we're going to bring them down."James feels something satisfied fill his chest as Harry successfully twists out of hold. It is not quite the feeling of mission success. It is something else, something almost like... pride?Harry slithers away from James like a snake to evade his next attempt. He slips to the other side of the closet Harry designated the Batcave, which is now decorated with scribbled-on coloring pages of Batman and Robin, as well as unrecognizable portraits drawn entirely by Harry."Good," James tells his son.Training Harry has brought forth memories of the Red Room, of instructing girls with blank faces how to disarm, incapacitate or eliminate opponents several times their size. Unlike the Red Room, there are no handlers barking orders in harsh tones. He does not use corrective punishment for anything less than perfection, as the handlers had.James pushes away the memories to refocus on Harry, who is beaming up at him. "Can I beat bad guys now?" NEGATIVE. James does not answer right away. Harry is making progress, and displaying more and more courage, but he is not adept at combat and escape."You shouldn't have to." James surprises himself with his words. He is training the boy so that he can protect himself if necessary, but it shouldn't be a necessity. Harry should be able to live free from the threat of harm.James frowns. That thought is irrelevant. It is obvious that several enemies are after the boy. James is surprised they haven't been found again again by now. He's kept his eyes open for owls, which had led to their capture by the enemy asset and old man Dumbledore."Robin beats up bad guys!" Harry declares, crossing his arms stubbornly. He has refused to wear anything but his Robin suit since its arrival.The Bucky voice sighs heavily in James's mind. You keep this up, and we're gonna be pullin' him out of alley fights for years."You have a lot to learn." James tells his son. "We have not covered evading punches or any close quarters combat.""What's 'vading?""Dodging."Harry nods in understanding. "Like how I ran 'way from Dudley." James's jaw tightens, but he forces himself to speak in a neutral tone."Escaping is smart, but if you are cornered, you have to dodge. Try it."He starts to advance on Harry, clenching a fist to perform a slow punch- he still does not use his full strength against his boy.0.8 seconds later, James stops as suddenly as if he'd been ordered to.Harry is staring at James's fists, his tiny body trembling and his lip quivering. "No, please." Harry stammers, and James feels as if he's just been electrocuted. "I'm sorry!"Approaching Harry with clenched fists likely made him experience his own visions- memories. James has little doubt that the boy is remembering his uncle storming toward him with his own fists clenched. He doubts the man would have liked Harry trying to escape his punishments.James sinks to his knees, reaching out to his boy. Harry is no longer a handler and clearly wouldn't punish him anyway, but he still feels as if he deserves it for terrifying his son.Harry flinches away from the touch initially, and James pulls his hands back. He speaks softly. "I am sorry, Harry. I promise I will not hurt you willingly."James can't promise he'll never hurt him. He already has, and if HYDRA uses the codewords, they can make him do anything. Yet Harry knows one codeword, one which had overridden the agents' codewords and made Harry his handler. THE BATMAN IS NO LONGER HYDRA'S ASSET. After 1.2 minutes of softly spoken words, ranging from English to Russian, Harry clutches onto the dark cape hanging from James's shoulders. James strokes his hand through his son's untidy hair. He'd snapped three combs attempting to get it to lay flat earlier, when Harry asked if he could have hair like James's own."I will never use corporal punishment on you, Harry." James promises, even though that is all he knows. He has experienced enough of it firsthand, but he will not inflict it on Harry. Fathers are supposed to discipline their children, but Harry has yet to misbehave, still too terrified about the consequences."It was supposed to be practice," he adds, when Harry sniffs wordlessly. He's getting snot all over the Batman cape, but it does not matter. "We will take a break. You need to eat."Harry nods, climbing to his feet. James expects Harry to keep his distance, but the boy holds his arms up to be held. James scoops his son up and exits the Batcave, heading toward the kitchen.Another part of being a father is ensuring his son is fed properly. Stark's kitchen is stocked with an amount of foodstuff that leaves the Bucky voice speechless, remarking they will not have to scrimp and save to put food on the table. Nor will James have to shoplift as he had on the run.Harry's stomach still cannot handle too much food, but he munches on some of the leftover Lo Mein noodles Stark had ordered in last night as James pulls out the blender.He is displeased that Stark threw the knives out the window. Not only does it lower the number of weapons available in case of an attack, but it makes chopping less efficient. Harry scrambles toward the counter."You do not have to help," James tells him. "You should eat.""It's fun." Harry says. He clearly enjoys dropping chopped fruit into the blender, but he does not use his powers to slow the fruits' descent. Harry helps him scoop out a protein-rich powder to add to the beverage.The noise and swirling of ingredients in the blender seems to delight Harry, but James thinks the expression on his son's face is a better sight. He is still not used to having opinions, but he cannot shake the thought.When the blender slows down, Stark says "I'm gonna go raid a base now."James whirls around to see Stark standing in the doorway, a slow grin spreading on his face. "Hey, Terminator, I finally got the drop on you for once."James scans the room for other occupants, wondering how his attention could have lapsed. He's been out of cryostasis for too long.Earlier, James had told Stark the coordinates of four different HYDRA facilities."I'd offer to let you come, but you should probably look after your kid." Stark shrugs. "Jarvis is awesome, but I don't think he's a qualified babysitter.""Yet I frequently ensure your own needs are met, sir." the computerized voice somehow has a dry tone. James no longer readies for a fight when he hears it. "Might I suggest eating yourself before you embark?"Stark reaches for the blender pitcher, but James blocks his hand. Harry copies the move, and Stark shakes his head before grabbing a banana."You two are weirdly possessive of protein shakes." Stark breaks off the rounded tip of the banana and tosses it toward the open blender pitcher. Harry snatches the small yellow chunk out of the air with his hands, as easily as James would block a bullet with his prosthesis.James feels the prideful feeling again. He had not instructed Harry on how to catch, it seems to be an innate ability. Harry looks pleased he caught it, and pops it into his mouth.Stark appears disappointed, no doubt hoping Harry would use his abilities instead of his hands."So, you're gonna stay here, while I try to get some evidence for this HYDRA thing? Jarvis'll hopefully make sure you don't do anything stupid like give a preschooler a knife." Stark gives James a pointed look."I agree that Master Harry should be supervised by a responsible adult, but I'd hesitate to qualify either of you as such." The computerized voice Jarvis's tone is somehow dry. "Unfortunately, Miss Potts is too busy running your company to babysit."Stark switches topics abruptly. "Hey, are the wizards part of HYDRA? Maybe they somehow hide out together. Am I gonna find crystal balls at this place?"James scowls. He does not know if HYDRA has wizards, but both organizations are far too interested in kidnapping Harry."Right, well, you two watch TV or something." Tony says over his shoulder as he heads downstairs to the workshop, where his armor is located. "Don't blow up the house while I'm gone."James does not rig Stark's house to explode as he had done to 4 Privet Drive. Instead, he spends 1.8 hours researching Batman. According to the voice Jarvis, Batman first appeared in a 1939 issue of Detective Comics. Robin debuted the following year. That was, according to Jarvis, before Bucky or Steve started fighting, but the Bucky voice does not say if either of them ever read the comics.James does not research Steve Rogers or James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes, but a Captain America comic pops up in the search results anyway.The Bucky voice sounds outraged. They turned me into a kid sidekick?! Hell, I'm basically Robin in this garbage!James leaves the site and returns to Batman comics. Batman is more important to the mission of protecting Harry.The research leads to sitting on the couch, watching a cartoon about Batman and Robin.He notices Harry sneaking awed glances at the screen before pretending not to watch. James gestures to the old, suit-clad butler onscreen. "I need a Batman expert to watch with me. Who is that?"Harry smiles slightly. "Alfred. He cleans, like me."James looks pointedly at Harry's costume. "You look more like Robin."Harry lets out a delighted laugh, scrambling onto James's lap and leaning against his chest to watch the show.The Bucky voice marvels at the animation itself. The Asset James notes Batman's obvious competence in combat, his resourcefulness, his dark clothes and stoic demeanor. Batman is a fitting cover identity for him, he decides.Much better than Superman, who the Bucky voice comments is like Steve. All-American, always stickin' up for what's right. He's even has red and blue in his suit.James does not think Steve possessed the abilities of flight or X-Ray vision, even after his body modifications."Can you fly?" he asks Harry as Superman soars through the air.Harry looks puzzled, but does not take his eyes away from the action onscreen. "We flewed off the train. Did you for-get?"That was not flying. Their descent had been prolonged, as the mug falling from the counter had the other day."I remember." James answers quietly.After 46.7 minutes, Jarvis turns the television off, stating that children ages two through five should have no more than one hour of screen time per day.Harry, full of excitement from watching Batman and Robin fight enemies, runs around punching and kicking the air. The Bucky voice wonders, once again, how long it will be before Harry's getting into fights like Steve.Batman is a vigilante, and James wonders if Harry expects him to go out and fight crime. He has to protect Harry, but he is certainly not going to encourage his boy to go looking for fights, even if he is disguised as Robin.Stark had suggested James help raid a base, as Batman would. James is skilled enough to take down whole squadrons, could defeat the STRIKE team simultaneously, except for the 99% likelihood they would be able to reclaim him with codewords and regain control of his programming. Without Harry there to override the commands, James would be helpless.Everything about Batman appears to be fictitious, as James's brief research in the cottage in Scotland had suggested. Stark, far from providing the classified coordinates to the Batcave, has backed up those accounts. Harry had said Stark's lab was not the Batcave upon entry, but it might be the closest they'll get, if Batman is indeed fictitious.The Winter Soldier was supposed to appear fictitious as well. There is a 98% certainty he does not appear in comic books, cartoons and movies, as Batman does. Captain America and Bucky Barnes were real, but appeared as fictionalized characters in comics as well.James is pulled from his thoughts by a small hand pulling at his prosthesis. "Let's go, Batman! To the Batcave!"Harry leads him to the closet, which is now deemed the Batcave. "The bad guys are coming!" Harry exclaims. "We haf'ta beat 'em up."James readies for a fight before realizing Harry is playing an imaginary game. It is bound to happen in reality sometime, but for now, the enemies they fight are invisible- but not in the way the enemy asset had been invisible in the cloak when capturing them.From the intel he's gathered, Batman does not kill. How can he be Harry's Batman? He is responsible for at least a dozen assassinations, is not sure he remembers them all. Even Bucky Barnes was reportedly a sergeant, he must have killed people if the memories of sniper rifles are any indication.James joins his son in fighting imaginary enemies, using non-lethal force. The voices in his head argue about whether lethal force is warranted or not."Be careful, Master Harry." the computerized voice Jarvis warns as Harry attempts to perform an aerial roundhouse kick which results in falling on his posterior. James checks to see if his son is injured."I'm Robin!" Harry insists, barely seeming to notice the pain as he grabs one of the broken wooden train tracks."Of course, Robin." "I would rather have Harry as a son than Robin." James is unused to voicing or having opinions, but the statement feels more factual than subjective.Harry freezes in the middle of pretending to throw a broken Thomas track like a Batarang. "...Really?""Really." James confirms, a part of his mind noting he should teach the boy how to throw. Harry was the first one who smiled at him as the Winter Soldier. He was the first person to touch him in ways that did not hurt, the first handler to ever show kindness and mercy toward him.Harry looks at him as if his thoughts are defective. "But Robin's a hero." He clearly views himself as less than Robin. Something in James is determined to change that. Harry's abilities are an asset, but they are not what made James decide to be his father, made James want to be his father.A memory rushes to the forefront of James's mind, unbidden. "You ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?" "Hell no." he replies in the Bucky voice. "That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight. I'm following him." Steve smiles. "But you're keeping the outfit, right?" James snaps his attention back to Harry."That little kid from the cupboard who smiles at me, he's my son. Not Robin." James does not realize he's echoing Bucky's words from the memory until he's already spoken. Despite mimicking the words, his voice does not sound like Bucky's, but it is not quite as flat as the Soldier's, either.He chooses to continue echoing the memory. "You should keep the outfit. It is a suitable disguise."Looks like you broke him again, pal, the Bucky voice says.Harry charges toward him with a hug so enthusiastic it is almost an ambush."I love you more than Batman!" Harry gazes up at him with awestruck eyes. He bites his lip, voice dropping to ask hesitantly. "Do you want me more'n Matilda?"James is at a loss for words for just how much Harry being his son means, how nobody could replace him. Should he say Matilda is fictional? Harry believes Batman is real, though James himself is starting to believe the caped crusader really is fictitious.Instead, he hugs his boy tight, and hopes that is answer enough.At 0209, James and Harry are seated at the kitchen counter, Harry with a mug of hot chocolate, and James with a steaming cup of real coffee, the best he's ever tasted as far as he can remember."Yummy." he says, which has the desired effect of making Harry giggle.Harry had another nightmare after only 6.2 hours of sleep. The computerized voice Jarvis claimed that children Harry's age should sleep between 10.0 and 12.0 hours, but lamented "Nobody in this house gets the recommended hours of sleep."The computer had sounded disapproving for a machine at the fact James had slept only 0.95 hours, instead standing watch inside their Batcave. His mind had raced, convinced Stark was really turning them in despite his promises. It was an illogical thought, given Stark's clear distrust of SHIELD and hatred of HYDRA, but it had persisted.The computerized voice Jarvis had displayed the feed from the cameras of Stark's Iron Man suit, and James had watched the man explore a HYDRA warehouse.James's pulse and respiration had nearly doubled at the sight of the Chair, until he saw Stark's armored hand blast it with a repulsor."Jesus, J." Stark muttered in a horrified tone inside the suit. "This is worse than a cave."Stark had seemed equally horrified by the cryogenic chamber.James takes another drink of coffee to warm his body from the phantom chill coursing through him. He turns back to the notebook laying open in front of him. He'd lost the notebook he'd recorded memories in at the Tesco store. He is not sure if the enemy asset is in possession of it, or if it was abandoned in the Tesco parking lot with the rest of their supplies. Either way, that notebook may have fallen into enemy hands.For that reason, James isn't sure if he should start another notebook, but transcribing memories helps quiet his mind. He jots down flashes of the Bucky person's life. He writes about the Red Room and maintenance, and snaps a pen in half from gripping it too tightly.Harry watches him with silent curiosity for 6.8 minutes before finally asking "What are you writin'? Chores?"James does not have to report to Harry now that he relinquished his position as handler. Still, it is clear Harry is used to having his questions ignored. He should be comfortable asking questions."Memories." he answers, not going into detail. The boy has seen too much horror already.He lets Harry scribble over a blank page in crayon while he writes on the other page. Harry jabs a finger at the furious green scribbles, then black squiggles underneath that appear to be mimicking writing. "That's the green light. An' this says Uncle Vernon."The black scribbles do not actually form words in any language James knows, but he nods all the same as Harry continues to mark up the page.Harry's movements are uncoordinated, his work a mess, but it still strikes James as familiar. He remembers a thin hand moving deftly over paper, creating worlds with simple strokes. He can't recall the pictures Steve drew, but he writes down Steve drawing. It is directly under a written recollection of eliminating the Dursley family. His stomach flips, glancing at the memory. WITNESSES ARE TO BE ELIMINATED. What would the boy think, knowing what he's done? He's a weapon that kills without thinking.James remembers eliminating families, remembers targets pleading for their lives. He's killed children, strangled the Dursley boy. The Dursley boy was a brat, but he was still a child simply imitating his parents' horrid treatment of Harry.If his original orders had been to assassinate Harry, rather than bring him in, he would have done so and been back in cryostasis by now. He would not even remember the boy who is now his son.His stomach churns. The Bucky voice is disgusted, but, oddly enough, not at James. Those monsters. We should go all Batman on their asses. DESTROYING HYDRA AND SHIELD WILL ENSURE HARRY'S SAFETY. James does not reply to the voices in his head, though the mission voice is correct. To truly ensure Harry's safety, however, they would need to eliminate the wizards as well. That has proven difficult.Harry watches him, looking far too concerned and old for a child so young. "Are you hurt?""I killed them." James says out loud, before he can stop himself. He doesn't deserve the boy's sympathy. "I murdered the Dursleys."Harry replies, nonchalantly "There was a fire." He reaches for a red crayon and begins to scribble furiously over the page, as if to provide a graphic representation of the flames.Harry is unaware of James's past, seems to be too immature to understand the concept of death.James suddenly cannot stand looking at his son as something claws in his stomach. He stares down at his notebook instead, hearing the computerized British accent of Jarvis, but not processing the words.He begins transcribing the memory of assassination set up to look like a car crash. The memory seems clearer now, the target Howard's features are more defined and even more strikingly familiar.Stark mentioned a Howard, commiserated with Harry on parents dying in a car crash. James isn't sure if his mind is playing tricks on him, but the clearer vision of Howard and his wife- whose name he doesn't remember- have clear familial resemblance to Stark.James realizes he's snapped another pen, and clenched the prosthesis hard enough to leave finger-shaped gouges in the table.He'd killed Stark's family. Part of him is relieved that memory is not of Harry's parents, that he is not the reason Harry ended up with the Dursleys, but the rest of him is tense. His stomach churns.Staying in the base of a man whose parents he'd assassinated would be the strategy of an idiot. James wonders if he should have left when Potts mentioned SHIELD therapists.Glancing out the window, he sees the fire being spewed from an aerial vehicle's repulsors, then realizes it is not a vehicle. It's Stark in his Iron Man armor, estimated time of arrival 0.2 minutes. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Tony rockets through the air, already longing for a drink or twenty.He knows he won't be sleeping at all for the rest of tonight. Not that he was ever good at sleeping consistently, even before he started having nightmares about the cave or Obadiah's betrayal years ago. From what he's heard from Jarvis, his new housemates aren't great at sleeping either, and are currently having a hot chocolate and coffee party.Frankly, Tony would've been shocked if James didn't have nightmares. It was horrifying enough to hear about mind wipes and electrocution, but to actually explore the dank, cavernous base where it happened added a whole new layer. Tony had enough nightmare fuel before seeing the chair fitted with restraints and a metal halo, like something out of a torture dungeon.Then there was the cryogenic chamber that, according to a file he'd found, froze "The Asset" in suspended animation. Which explains how the hell a guy from the forties is around today and doesn't appear to have aged at all in over six decades. Just seeing that was enough to give Tony chills, but James had actually been forced in there and been frozen like Han Solo in Carbonite.Then again, being frozen alive might have been a relief compared to the memory-erasing chair or whatever other atrocities happened in the HYDRA base.There's no doubt it was a HYDRA base, not when Tony had seen the telling logo of a skull with snakes slithering out of it. That particular base was abandoned and seems to have been so since the eighties, but if HYDRA was around but hidden in the eighties, the organization is likely still lurking in the shadows today.Lurking, apparently, inside SHIELD.When his mansion comes into view, Tony is relieved to see it is still standing, and appears to have been unharmed. Then again, Jarvis would have told him if his guests actually blew up the house.As if reading his thoughts, Jarvis reports "Sir, Sergeant Barnes has broken into your lab and is currently arming himself with a blowtorch."So much for increasing security. Could anything keep James out? His new security measures seemed to barely slow James down. The guy's even more adept than Fury and Coulson when it comes to breaking into his house- they'd never made it into his lab. Tony swears loudly, increasing his suit's thrusters. "Tell me he's not giving it to Harry."Maybe leaving his guests alone for a solid fourteen hours wasn't the best idea. Tony had been relieved to hear that Harry had started watching television like a normal kid, but that had been in the afternoon. Apparently by two in the morning, his guests decided it was time to get dangerous with fire. Okay, Tony's done that his fair share of times, but not with a freaking four-year-old.He soars through the tunnel connected to his lab before hovering in midair. "I just can't leave you alone, can I?""I wasn't alone. I was with my dad and Mr. Jarvis." Harry peers out from where he's half-hidden behind the dark fabric of James's Batman cape, only for James to step in front of him protectively again. Harry looks sort of disappointed to see Iron Man, probably hoping the Batwing would swoop in instead."And clearly they didn't stop this from happening." Tony jerks his head towards James, who is clearly sizing him up, eyes flicking over his armor for weaknesses to exploit. James's eyes are somewhere between his usual analytical detachment and a more human panic, continuing to dart around the room for other threats."It's just me." Tony retracts the faceplate and lands on the floor. He raises his armored palms in what would usually be a display of peace, except he's got some powerful repulsors packed onto them.James doesn't look reassured, and continues to stand in his battle-ready pose. Maybe he's freaking out about SHIELD again, like when Pepper visited."Let me just say that I fully believe you about HYDRA now, and believe me, I'm not turning you in." Tony hastens to assure him."Your father was Howard Stark." James's voice is flat, even if his eyes betray some panic.He must have had a flashback from his pre-HYDRA life. That's good, isn't it? But he's still standing in a battle-ready pose and hasn't lowered his blowtorch."Yeah. Wouldn't have won father of the year, that's for sure. He was too busy obsessing over Cap and the old you." Tony mutters. "I'd say you're doing better than he did at the whole parenting thing, aside from this whole letting a kid near weapons part. Seriously, once you cut that out, your parenting score will shoot way up."What does it say that a brainwashed, tortured assassin is somehow more attentive and affectionate toward a kid than Howard was? Even after everything, that protective part of Bucky seems to have survived."My dad's even better'n Batman." Harry informs him with all the pride a four-year-old can muster. At least the kid isn't holding any weapons at the moment."The Batman does not kill." James's voice has a hint of conflict in it now, and Tony senses he's referring to the fictional Batman, not himself. Considering how he'd latched onto the identity of Batman, the fact he'd been an assassin has got to screw that up.James reaches for a notebook that sits on a nearby table. Tony doesn't remember it being there before. Is James keeping a journal? That'd probably be one of the things therapy would recommend if Tony ever went."What were you writing in there? Dear Diary, today I missed Tony's awesome presence so much that I grabbed a blowtorch." Tony teases. He doesn't get one of James's murderous glares in response, the man simply clutches the book tighter."We write-ed memories." Harry tells him."So, what are you remembering about my dear old dad?" Tony finds himself asking, though he's not sure he wants to know. "That he totally kissed Cap's ass-" Tony pauses and glances at Harry. He should really get that kid earmuffs or something, he's surprised he's managed to censor his language as much as he has around the kid. He's shocked he even bothers, honestly.Harry speaks up before James, stating in the matter-of-fact way of small children. "Your dad an' mummy died in a car crash. Like mine."Tony didn't think the kid would remember that after one offhand comment. Or is he just at the stage of assuming everyone's life is exactly like his?"Yeah, December 16, 1991." Tony mutters, the date etched in his memory forever. "You weren't around then, Oliver, but we were orphaned the same way."Something knowing flashes in James's grey-blue eyes, and Tony frowns at him. "You knew that. Why did you know that? Did you research me when I was gone?""We watched Batman." Harry replies, smiling slightly."Cool, but that's not what I asked." Tony doesn't turn from James. He's positive he hadn't mentioned the date before."December 16, 1991. Target Howard Stark successfully eliminated." James answers as if obeying an order, and Tony remembers that James considers him a technician, remembers how he'd reported memories as if expecting them to be erased.Being a genius usually means Tony's quick to pick up on things, but his mind struggles to comprehend this new information. James and Harry have been doing that a lot recently.James frowns, almost seeming conflicted over the answer. Is he remembering Howard being an ally, not a target? Or is he simply conflicted about revealing the information?The word target echoes in Tony's head."You're telling me," Tony asks quietly, with barely contained rage. "That HYDRA ordered an assassination on my parents?"James gives one short nod of assent. He hasn't said anything to confirm Tony's next suspicion, but Tony is almost certain James is the one who had done it. Or, rather, the Winter Soldier had.James opens his mouth, but Tony makes a furious stop motion. He wouldn't want to hear the details if he was paid in Vibranium.Even thinking about the possible details makes him see red. Tony feels his face turn murderous. His faceplate snaps down, and he raises his palm.His repulsor blasts one of his workshop tables.Harry yells wordlessly, and simultaneously, the Iron Man suit shorts out.It's enough to snap Tony out of his rage, and he realizes James has moved in front of him, aiming the blowtorch at his face. Tony's immensely glad that he lowered his face plate for the illusion of privacy. His face is too handsome to get scorched to a crisp, thank you very much."If you do not remove the blowtorch from Mr. Stark's face, I will be forced to neutralize you." Jarvis's tone is polite and dangerous at the same time. James stiffens, his eyes assessing the ceiling."Suit's fireproof, Jarvis." Tony stumbles back, taking several deep breaths. James's eyes track his every move, but the man remains where he is."I believe there has been a misunderstanding." Jarvis says in a slightly lighter tone. "Mr. Stark was not attempting to harm either of you, merely... venting his frustrations."Tony raises his palms in a gesture of peace, and James slowly lowers the blowtorch.Tony tries to get his suit to unfold into the briefcase, but it's still malfunctioning. He has to get the robotic arms to disassemble it as he had the earliest models.James silently watches the arms work. He seems to have realized that Tony hadn't aimed at either of him or Harry, yet still finds the need to threaten him. "If you attempt to harm Harry, I will eliminate you.""Like you killed my parents?" Tony snaps without thinking, then immediately berates himself. Christ, this guy had even less of a choice than Tony had in that cave. He was tortured, and it's not like Tony's hands are clean, not after being the Merchant of Death. His weapons had killed someone's parents, undoubtedly making some orphans themselves."Howard was... an ally of James Buchanan Barnes." James pauses, seeming overwhelmed by whatever's in his head. Something akin to guilt flashes in his ordinarily-blank eyes. Is he remembering? Tony doesn't want to know. The way he talks about his old self as if he's an entirely different person only serves to remind Tony of all he'd been through, all that had been stripped away from Bucky to turn him into the Asset. "I killed them.""You crashed his mummy and daddy? But you're a hero." Harry turns to look up at James in utter confusion, clearly wondering if he's a good guy or a bad guy. The kid has a black-and-white view of the world, people are either good or bad with no middle ground."It wasn't him." Tony tells the kid, surprising himself. If someone told him mere hours ago that he would be defending his parents' killer, he'd have thought they'd broken into one of his several liquor cabinets. He didn't even know they had a killer ten minutes ago.But James isn't the killer, not really. Even the Asset was barely more than a puppet with strings clenched tightly in HYDRA's grasp."My dad said he killed-ed the Dursleys." Harry shares casually, and that guilt flashes through James's eyes again, confirming it. Tony already had a hunch, but James said that to his kid? Tony's an adult and he had a hard time stomaching it.Harry, on the other hand, seems almost disturbingly unconcerned over this information. Granted, his aunt, uncle and cousin sucked, but still."It was a fire." Harry says. Tony lets it slide. He doesn't want to be the one to tell Harry that his new adoptive dad started the fire, even if the Dursleys were terrible.Tony turns to James and sighs."I don't blame you." He's furious, but not at James. "Now, HYDRA, on the other hand, has a one-way ticket to hell. I'm gonna hunt them down, tear them apart. They won't know what hit them."He was always planning on it, he wasn't going to let an evil organization stay hidden in the shadows. But now HYDRA has made everything personal. They killed his mom."HYDRA is a threat to Harry's safety. It must be eliminated." James agrees."They're a threat to your safety, too." Tony points out. "Everyone's, really.""I can help beat bad guys!" Harry punches the air, looking much more confident in his Robin suit."No." Tony and James answer simultaneously.Tony starts to inspect his suit, which has now been fully removed by the robots. He can't find anything wrong with the wiring or circuitry, and suddenly remembers how the malfunction had happened at the same time as Harry's shriek."Was this you, Oliver?" While it may not be good for his tech, the thought that Harry has that kind of power is awesome. And a little terrifying. He has to make his suits immune to Harry's powers somehow.Harry looks nervous, probably thinking he'll blast something again, so Tony shoots him a grin.As he works, he asks "What else has HYDRA done? I don't think you could drop a worse bomb than you already have."James frowns, seeming to be trying to remember if he had dropped a literal bomb.The base had some records, mostly physical papers that he'd scanned into his personal, secure server and told Jarvis to go through, but he doubts that those account for all the atrocities the organization has committed.Focusing on those other atrocities is easier than focusing on what James just revealed.Tony glances at Harry and asks "Did they set up another orphaning car crash?" It's certainly not out of the question that they'd killed Harry's parents too. HYDRA's apparently very interested in Harry, likely for his abilities, though according to James there are more people out there with the same abilities.Harry doesn't seem to pick up on what Tony's implying, but James does."Unknown. The enemies stated it was an assassination by an agent under the codename Dark Lord."Tony snorts slightly at the codename. Then again, he'd seen papers referring to the Winter Soldier at the base. "I take it you didn't know that guy?""The Dark Lord is likely a wizard.""Wizards are bad guys." Harry tells him seriously. "With wep-nized sticks."Right, not only does he have to take down HYDRA, Tony also has to figure out this whole wizard thing."I doubt they're all bad." Tony mutters. There have to be some cool ones, right? Like Harry. Okay, he's getting off the subject. "Unless they're all HYDRA."James goes rigid again. Tony mentally curses himself."I'm not going to hurt you for anything they made you do." Tony promises to James. James clearly had thought so, earlier. Then why had he gone to the lab where all the suits were? Panic screws with logic, he guesses. "Why didn't you run?""Your armor can reach approximately 250 kilometers per hour." James states flatly, but there's a clear you would have caught me in there. Right, even James's super-speed is nothing compared to Tony's suits."You've got your whole vanishing act going for you." Tony replies. Then again, he has sensors, but James still manages to sneak up on him.James looks at him as if he's stupid. "You would know how to follow the tracking devices in the prosthesis, and make them extremely difficult or impossible to remove."Tony frowns. "There weren't trackers in there. There was a place where there might've been, but there wasn't actually."It's James's turn to frown. "You did not install tracking devices?" He says it like Tony had made an egregious error in maintaining his arm.Of course HYDRA had chipped James, like a dog. Tony's actually somewhat impressed James had apparently removed the first one."I'm not going to track you. And I don't think anyone caught onto me now. The base was completely deserted, had been for decades. I killed the alarms before I went in, but I don't think they would've worked anyway."James nods once, stiffly."So as of right now, you're in the clear."Tony pauses. SHIELD probably keeps an eye on his activities as Iron Man, and Fury has that nasty habit of breaking and entering unannounced. Shit. Well, James and Harry are still safer here than they are on their own. At least they've got Iron Man backing them up here."Well, Fury has a nasty habit of showing up, but I won't let him take you, so your best bet is probably sticking here. I'll fight wizards, too."Considering what Harry did to his suit, wizards might be sort of tricky.Harry tugs on James's cape. "Can we go to the Batcave?"James shakes his head. "We cannot go there."Harry's face falls."This is the closest you're gonna get to the Batcave, kiddo. Batman's not real." Tony eyes James's Batman suit. "You know, I think that'd fit me better than you. I was already a genius, billionaire, orphan superhero. But now I've got the whole backstory too."Hiding feelings behind some dark snark never hurt anyone.James starts to shed the caped garment, but Tony waves a hand. "Keep it. You've got the whole brooding thing down anyway. Besides, I'm more awesome than Batman anyway.""Batman's more awesome!" Harry crosses his arms.Tony's glad for this old argument. Trying to convince a preschooler that his favorite superhero is fictional is less painful than dwelling on other stuff."You know, you're turning out like Batman too, Oliver." Tony mutters. If this kid's parents were assassinated as well, well, he's got the origin story going. Unlike Batman and Tony, Harry seems to actually have superpowers."I'm Robin." Harry tells him. "But not really, 'cos my dad loves me more. Harry."Despite everything, Tony finds Harry's expression sort of adorable. Tony's not sure he wants to know what this kid is going to be like when he grows up, especially with James teaching him self-defense.But the look James is sending Harry seems more human and less like a creepy cyborg terminator. Even that guilt in his eyes seemed more human.Said eyes snap back to Tony. "Why are you helping?""You were a prisoner of war. Those bastards wiped your mind, tortured you. They're going to pay."Okay, maybe this isn't the sort of conversation they're supposed to have in front of a preschooler, but Harry had been there when James mentioned memory wipes the first time, and who knows what he'd seen before arriving here?Tony really hopes Harry hadn't actually witnessed said wipes. Even imagining them is traumatizing.Harry gapes at James, his face baffled once again. "You were in jail?! But only bad guys go to jail!""Not quite what that means." Tony tells the kid. "Prisoner of War means the bad guys captured him. He didn't do anything to land there.""Bucky Barnes's fall from the train landed him there."Tony stares at James, unable to tell if he's being literal or developing a dark, deadpan sense of humor. He really hopes it's the latter."You ex-scaped, Dad?" Harry asks knowingly. "You beat up bad guys?"Something flashes across James's face. "I... defected. When I found you."Tony bites back an acerbic question as to why he hadn't defected when sent to kill his parents. That won't help anyone, and James had made a comment earlier about memory wipes being necessary. Maybe he had defected before.James seems to guess what he's thinking. "They used the Chair when I became uncooperative."Tony scrubs a hand across his face. "If you tell me where the others are, I'll destroy them. Or you could. I bet it'd be cathartic to go to town on them.""HYDRA must be destroyed." James's cybernetic arm clenches and whirs. "They will not harm Harry. They will not reclaim me.""They'll have to get through Iron Man before they try." Tony says."An' me!" Harry declares, and both James and Tony shoot that down again. Harry scowls. "And Batman. And my A'set Dad.""I'm still looking into Rollins and Rumlow." Tony tells him. "Haven't found anything incriminating yet, but they'd keep that under wraps. Do you remember any other names? A leader, perhaps?"That's probably too much to hope for, Tony thinks, but then James says "Director Pierce." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- James has just divulged possibly the most classified intel of HYDRA- the leader.James has once again offered the information willingly to Stark, who had not tried to kill him after James revealed that HYDRA sent the Soldier to assassinate his parents."Pierce?" Stark studies him with eyes that aren't quite as sharp as usual, indicating exhaustion.That bastard really deserves it, the Bucky voice sounds grimly satisfied, and calls Pierce several more colorful terms in James's mind."Piers is Dudley's fwiend." states Harry. "He helps Dudley hit me."James had not encountered Piers, but he should teach the kid a lesson. Not kill him as he had the Dursley boy, but scare him enough to ensure he'll never be a bully again.Steve never liked bullies, declares the Bucky voice. Neither do I. "Well, that Piers kid sounds like a jerk." Stark mutters. "But I kind of doubt a kid's in charge of HYDRA. Even if you were somehow in charge of him."Unlike James, HYDRA does not have codewords for gaining control of it."My dad said Piers." Harry argues."He said Pierce. Not Piers." Stark explains to Harry before turning toward James. "There are a lot of Pierces out there. Secretary Pierce, for instance..."The man's expression darkens, full of suspicion, and he mutters "Please tell me it's some other Pierce.""Did you mean Secretary Alexander Pierce, former director of SHIELD?" the computerized voice Jarvis interjects smoothly, presumably addressing James. A holographic photo of Director Pierce's face appears. He is elderly, with graying hair and the beginnings of wrinkles, but James remembers him younger as well. James had not gained wrinkles or graying hair as his handler has.The sight of the man makes him feel phantom slaps on his face. He tenses, instinctively expecting the order to be put in the Chair, even though it is a stationary picture, not the real person.The old voice klaxons like an alarm in James's mind. PIERCE WILL RESET THE MISSION AND RECLAIM HIS ASSET. Not gonna happen, pal. The Bucky voice replies, though James can hear apprehension behind Bucky's bravado. Surely Pierce is powerful enough to make him HYDRA's asset again, even if he is not now.Harry stifles a snicker. "That's not Piers! It's a old man!""That is Director Pierce." James speaks through a clenched jaw, trying not to think of the punishment that would await him if Pierce knew James just uncovered him, which would be in addition to the punishments for defecting and revealing HYDRA's existence.Stark groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. "You're just a stream of earth-shattering revelations, aren't you? You're telling me this HYDRA infestation goes as deep as the director of SHIELD?! The Secretary?!"Stark is expressing disbelief but James does not think he is dismissing the intel, as he had originally dismissed HYDRA as a memory of the Bucky person."Affirmative." James states.Stark slumps into a chair and moans. "I just wanted to fly home, crash, and drink until I forgot everything. Then you had to drop even bigger bombs on me."Harry's brow furrows over Stark's words. "But you'd die in a crash, like-""I don't need to be reminded about that, kid." Stark's snaps in a tight voice, and he glances once again at James. He said he wouldn't hurt James and he's out of his armor, but James still prepares himself for a fight.Harry shuts his mouth hastily, eyes wide and locked on Stark's hands."I-I'll get your d'ink, sir." the boy murmurs, reverting to his behavior at the Dursley residence as he hurries toward the bar lining one wall.Stark pinches the bridge of his nose. "We talked about this, Oliver. You're not serving me." The man stands and quickly strides to the bar, beating Harry there, and turns to gesture for the boy to stop. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm not mad at you, anyway... just, mad."James observes Stark pour himself a liberal amount of liquid from a decanter and toss the glass back, immediately pouring another.Stark's promise not to blame James for the assassination of his parents- even when it had been his hands that had done it- may not remain in effect if the man becomes inebriated. Intoxication can make many people prone to violent outbursts, which Stark had already demonstrated by shooting a workbench. Next time, it could be James or Harry.Yet Stark is unarmed and Harry seems capable of disabling his suit. James would have enough of a head start to subdue the man."So has every SHIELD director secretly been HYDRA?!" Stark tosses back more liquid, then shakes his head wearily. "There's no way Peggy Carter could've been... or are you gonna drop that bomb, too?"James has few memories of Carter, and the Bucky voice remarks She didn't even notice me, only had eyes for Steve. It was horrible.Carter had fought against HYDRA. There is the possibility she could have been a double agent, but James is somehow certain she wasn't. "Carter was not affiliated with HYDRA."Stark exhales slowly. "Well, that's the first remotely relieving news you've given me all day. You sure Fury isn't HYDRA? Black man with a dark coat and eyepatch?"Another holographic photo matching Stark's description appears. It must be Fury, but all James has heard were unflattering jibes. "Rumlow and Rollins joked he was blind.""Literally or figuratively?" Stark asks. "Because if he doesn't know any of this is happening under his nose..."James scowls at Stark. "You told Potts you would not contact Fury." Stark hasn't gone back on that promise, has he? Fury could still be HYDRA even if James doesn't recognize him."I haven't. I don't exactly trust him." Stark returns to studying Pierce's picture with growing disgust. "Ugh, we're gonna need tons of evidence to bring Pierce down, and I bet he covers it up. You don't happen to have mad detective skills, do you?""Ask Batman!" Harry chips in, standing close to James. "He's the greatest mad de-te-tive ever in the world!"Stark shoots Harry an exasperated look. "Isn't your dad Batman?""No, the real Batman." Harry's tone is as exasperated as Stark's expression.Rather than arguing, once again, that Batman is fictitious, Stark ignores the statement altogether. "As much as I'd like to go into this guns blazing, we should probably make a plan or two.""That would certainly be advisable." the computerized voice Jarvis remarks dryly.Decommissioning Pierce would not destabilize all of HYDRA. As the motto goes, cut off one head and two more shall take its place. There would simply be a new leader.They'll need to dismantle everything, bring HYDRA down as the other Winter Soldiers would destabilize and topple entire countries in a single night. Unlike countries, HYDRA may not be able to be razed that quickly."Any idea how long Pierce has been the director of HYDRA?" Stark asks.James's brow furrows minutely. Some missions have set time stamps, but often he would be thawed and given no information on what year it was."It's no biggie if you don't." Stark says, though he almost sounds as if he's simply humoring James. "I had Jarvis scan more paperwork than Pepper's ever forced me to sign. Ugh, that was a pain."Several holographic documents appear. Two of them have HYDRA's logo of a skull and snakes on the top.Bit stupid for an undercover organization, remarks the Bucky voice.Harry, however, points at the logo excitedly. "Snakes! I can ask my snake fwiends to bite bad guys!""Is that another one of your powers? Being a mini Doctor Dolittle?" Stark seems unsure as to whether to actually believe it or dismiss talking animals as a child's imagination."Who?""He talks to animals. And they talk back, but not in a hallucination way.""Dogs only talk in dog sounds." Harry replies derisively. "'Cos Nighty's a dumb bad dog and Ripper g'owls like a tiger.""So is it just snakes?" Stark questions, and Harry slowly nods. The man glances toward the ceiling. "Hey, J, while you're busy combing through all those documents, mind seeing if there are any kids' books with talking snakes? Order Doctor Dolittle too."Even James expects a snarky retort from the computerized voice about being busy, but instead it says "Sir, Agent Romanoff-""Is she HYDRA too?" Stark's voice is weary.Before Jarvis can reply, a pair of woman's legs that are too short to belong to Potts silently descend the steps. James grabs the blowtorch and instructs Harry to remain hidden behind one of the cars.The woman has red hair and glossed lips, and James recognizes her as the agent he shot through to hit the target engineer. She has two pistols and four knives concealed on her person, which would go unnoticed by 98% of people but are impossible to miss for James's trained eyes. THREAT ASSESSMENT: HIGH. She enters a code onto the access panel and enters through the glass door.Stark folds his arms across the faint glow filtering through his shirt and narrows his eyes at the woman. "You are not the former assistant I was hoping to see, Rushman or Romanoff or whatever your real name is. I know I said I wanted you before, but I really don't want you now."Romanoff's eyes flick to where James is standing motionless. He should have remained unnoticed by civilians and trained agents alike. It makes her more dangerous.James hears Harry whisper something about his bad witch mummy, and the agent's eyes narrow at the car before settling on Stark as if seeing him anew. "Didn't think you were the type to settle down with a husband and kid."James ignores the Bucky voice as it asks in a shocked tone Fellas can marry fellas now? That is unimportant. He needs to focus on Harry's safety."Do you see a ring?" Stark arches a brow. "I'm anything but settled right now. In fact, I've been thoroughly unsettled by a lot recently, and your appearance isn't helping. What does Fury want?"James tenses. She is SHIELD. Fury cannot know they are here. James isn't sure the man is HYDRA- he'd never heard the STRIKE team disparage Pierce the way they had disparaged Fury. The lack of respect indicates he is an enemy of HYDRA, but that does not mean he will be an ally to James or Harry.It is possible Romanoff brought the STRIKE team as backup. Ordinarily, fighting multiple opponents on his own would be a negligible exercise, but STRIKE is different. Rumlow may have his own trigger words to incapacitate James until Pierce arrives."Fury wants to know why Iron Man decided to destroy a warehouse." Romanoff replies.Stark snorts. "Boredom? I'm volatile, as your own report said. That means I like to blow shit up."Romanoff levels Stark with an unimpressed look as the man continues "For an intelligence agency, you're remarkably stupid a lot of the time. You can tell Fury I said that, quote me if you want."She will not be reporting their presence to Fury. WITNESSES ARE TO BE ELIMINATED. James is closing in on Romanoff before the inner voice has finished speaking.Romanoff dodges his first blow, flipping up to wrap her legs around his throat. She attempts to subdue him with strangulation and blunt force trauma to his head, but he slams her back into a wall.It is similar to how the fight with the giant played out, only James is the giant this time. He will not allow Romanoff to incapacitate him with a tree.James successfully stuns Romanoff enough to flip her off his shoulders and toss her across the room. She expertly rolls to her feet, producing a gun and aiming it at James.James distantly hears both Stark and Harry shouting, and the gun is ripped from Romanoff's grasp by an invisible force. The enemy asset had used a similar, seemingly magical method to relieve the escorts of their weapons and James of his weapons and supplies in the Tesco parking lot.Does Harry have the same ability?Romanoff's expression is shocked for 0.4 seconds before she smooths her features. She ignores the gun and produces a knife, gripping it 24% tighter than she had the gun, as if to ensure it won't be pulled from her grip.James dodges the knife and locks Romanoff's arm in place. She attempts to break the hold in a manner similar to the one James had been teaching Harry, but James readjusts his stance. The knife clatters to the floor."солдат" Romanoff gasps. It is not an attempt to gain control, but a realization of who he is.James does not release his hold, but his mind flashes to the Red Room. He recalls instructing a red-haired girl on how to shoot a gun. She was barely older than Harry is now, but he realizes she grew to be the agent he currently has in an arm-lock.He is not sure how he went from training her to shooting through her. Is she an enemy of HYDRA, despite working in SHIELD? Or is she still working for the Russians?Romanoff takes advantage of the distraction to twist free. That action, along with Harry's voice, snaps James out of the memory."Go away!" Harry is standing with his hands on his hips, glaring at Romanoff from under his black mask. "You can't eat anyone here.""I wasn't planning on eating anyone.""Was too!" Harry is obviously unconvinced. "You're my bad witch mummy. Go away. I haf' a new dad now.""I'm no one's mother." Romanoff's eyes do not leave James for even a fraction of a second. "Certainly not yours. And I'm not a witch.""Are you Batgirl?" Harry seems to be going through a mental checklist of red-haired individuals."No, she's not." Stark sighs. "She's a triple-agent spy, that's all I know about her. And she speaks Latin."Romanoff speaks in Russian instead of Latin, addressing James. "You look the same."She looks only a few years older than when the Soldier shot out her tires and then shot through her to kill the engineer."Who were you working for?" she's clearly referencing the mission where his bullet pierced her."I don't work for anyone anymore." James replies."What are you saying?" Stark demands, annoyed at being left out of the conversation. "Hey, Jarvis. What are they saying?"Jarvis translates Romanoff's words, and Romanoff smoothly transitions to English to tell Stark "I was wondering how you ended up with a Soviet assassin in your house.""Soviet?" Stark raises a brow at James. "Well, that explains your red star. So, what, were you two spies together?""We were. Then he shot through me." Romanoff's voice is carefully deadpan. "Ruined bikinis forever."Stark mutters that he doubts that, absently rubbing his chest. "I'm living proof you be hot as hell, scars and all." He nods at James. "I guess he's proof of that, too."Romanoff ignores Stark completely, still watching James. "I got on SHIELD's radar in a bad way. They sent an agent to kill me, and he made a different choice."James does not think Romanoff was sent to kill him. Though she'd noticed his presence, she had given no indication of expecting to see either him or Harry, or of having any knowledge about Harry and his abilities.All evidence points to her coming solely for Stark.Presently, she's extending a silent offer for him to defect, to join SHIELD. James studies her. She truly doesn't know that joining SHIELD would be joining the same side he's left."We've both got red in our ledgers. We can wipe it out." Romanoff seems to think she is currently doing better than being an assassin, meaning she cannot be knowingly working for HYDRA. Anyone willingly joining them would have no qualms about getting blood on their hands."Yeah, SHIELD might not be the best way to atone for past stuff." Stark mutters.Romanoff shoots him a look. "Not all of us are billionaires with the time and money to invent weaponized suits.""SHIELD 's bad guys." Harry says solemnly. "Like Hy'da.""HYDRA?" Romanoff asks.James interrupts his son quickly."I will not join SHIELD." The words feel strange in James's mouth. What he wants has never factored into the equation in the past, and if SHIELD wants to acquire him, they will likely find a way. Most likely using the STRIKE team.As if answering his thoughts, James hears footsteps on the stairs. Only one person, thankfully, but it would only take one person with the right words to reset him.The man is wearing a suit, but it is not Pierce. That fact does not necessarily make him less dangerous."Oh, yay, Coulson." Stark mutters sarcastically. "Just who I wanted to see." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Harry has just gotten a peek of a man in a business suit coming through the glass door before his dad James scoops him up and carries him towards a sleek back car. As Harry's being placed in the front seat- he's never ridden up front before, but the car doesn't have a backseat- the man who Mr. Stark called Coulson says "You should be putting him to bed, not going for a drive. Especially not in that car. He needs to be in a car seat in the back."Harry hears his dad's robot arm whir without clunking as the metal plates shift.Harry scrambles to his knees to squint at the man. Mr. Coulson's face is a blur. He wonders if the Coulson man is here to do business with Mr. Stark. Why else would he be wearing a suit, unless he's a butler?"Are we e-vading?" Harry whispers to his dad, who's looking at Mr. Coulson, not Harry. His dad gives a sharp nod, still watching the man.It's the second time it seemed like they were going to leave since Harry woke up. He thought they were leaving after writing in the book, but then Mr. Stark came back and they're still here.Harry likes living at Mr. Stark's a lot more than living with the Dursleys, but he and his dad had driven around before, going from place to place. They can do that again. Going anywhere with his dad would be good, except that castle. He never wants to go there again.He wants to ask if they'll drive to the Batcave, since this sleek black car looks a bit like the Batmobile, but Mr. Stark and even his Batman dad say they can't go there.His dad murmurs in his ear, so quietly that Harry barely hears it. "If they try to take my brain, use the word from the ski lodge."Harry frowns, before remembering and nodding."Children his age need consistent schedules and lots of sleep." Mr. Coulson tells Mr. Stark with a very disappointed look. "Having a child up at this hour is exceedingly poor parenting."Mr. Stark crosses his arms so Harry can't see the glow under his shirt anymore. "Really, agent? You're coming here to play Supernanny? You're setting a terrible example, yourself. Neither of you knocked."Mr. Stark sounds mad again, and Harry gulps, knowing he did something wrong but not knowing what. He always has to help his aunt cook fancy meals and desserts for guests, but Mr. Stark keeps stopping him from cooking or getting drinks or cleaning.Mr. Stark isn't acting like Harry's aunt and uncle did around guests, but he almost never acts like them.When Harry's dad speaks, he doesn't growl. His voice is soft, quiet. "How many agents are surrounding the perimeter?"He sounds sort of like he's giving up, not like Batman at all. Harry stares at him. "You can kick their butts. Like the giant and her." Harry points to Miss Romanoff, not sure why his dad isn't fighting Mr. Coulson like he fought her."There are currently no other agents in the premises." Jarvis says in his smooth voice. "Sir, I've taken the liberty of contacting Miss Potts. She's on her way.""You're a lifesaver, J." Mr. Stark mutters. "I'm shocked nobody's died yet." Harry feels his face scrunch in confusion. They were talking about their parents dying earlier.Miss Romanoff turns to Mr. Coulson. "Sir, this is the agent from Odessa. The Winter Soldier."Coulson turns to Harry's new James dad, who is no longer crouched next to Harry. His dad opens the door to the driver's seat, which is on the wrong side of the car, but doesn't get in."You defeated one of my best agents, twice." Mr. Coulson says. "You've been a ghost for years, credited with dozens of assassinations. You must have received extensive training to accomplish those feats. Why don't you tell me where you got your training?"Mr. Stark waves a hand. "Ra's al Ghul and the League of Shadows."Miss Romanoff answers as if Mr. Stark didn't say anything. "He was part of my training, but I don't think he had any more of a say than I did."Something coils in Harry's chest like a snake as he hears that, so he barely hears whatever she says next about a red room. He turns toward his dad to say "No. You're training me. You're my dad, not hers."Harry speaks firmly, but still knows better than to shout like Dudley did when throwing a tantrum."He's your dad?" Mr. Coulson asks."I'm his Robin." Harry says mostly to remind himself, looking down at his outfit. The Romanoff woman might look like Batgirl with red hair and a tight black costume, but she's not, right? Maybe she lied about him training her, and Harry's pretty sure the fight he'd just seen was real. His dad seemed different fighting her than when he practiced with Harry. He didn't say she did well, and he was punching really hard like when he fought the bad guys."You're training your kid to be a child winter soldier." Mr. Coulson doesn't raise his voice, but Harry can hear that he expects to be answered."Robin's a superhero." Harry scoffs. He knows his dad is a soldier, but superheroes are even better.Mr. Coulson uses weird grown-up words to say those aren't moo-tally eggs-clues-ive, then explains it means soldiers can be superheroes too, like Captain America.Ms. Romanoff answers for Harry's James dad. "You're teaching him self-defense. So he can protect himself.""We can offer protection, make sure both you and your kid are safe." Mr. Coulson tells them. Harry's dad already keeps him safe and fights bad guys, and Mr. Stark said he wouldn't hurt them even after shooting a table. They don't need Mr. Coulson."Or you'll lock him up." Mr. Stark says."They didn't lock me up." Miss Romanoff points out, then tells Harry's dad in a kinder tone "SHIELD isn't like the Red Room."Mr. Coulson still looks calm. "I seem to have a knack for taking in ex-assassins. We can be very... lenient that way.""Yeah, as long as they become Fury's assassins like this triple spy." Mr. Stark lifts an eyebrow at Miss Romanoff. "I'll make sure they're safe even if he doesn't join you. Which he said he wouldn't, remember?"Harry's Batman dad's robot hand clenches into a fist, but Harry isn't hit with it. His dad's not even looking at him, he's giving the two new people a scowl that seems even more furious than Uncle Vernon, except his face doesn't turn purple."I'm Batman." his dad says, and Harry can't help but smile. "The Batman does not kill.""The kid said we're like HYDRA." Romanoff mutters to Coulson. Harry tries to copy the glare his dad is giving. He stands up as tall as he can, sticking his hands on his hips."Kids have incredibly active imaginations." Mr. Coulson tells her before turning to speak to Harry. "Have you heard stories of HYDRA? They were defeated a long time ago, by Captain America."Harry knows this man is lying, he'd heard his dad tell Miss Potts and Mr. Stark that HYDRA isn't gone. He shakes his head slowly.Miss Romanoff almost smiles. "Don't tell me you're going to whip out your card collection."Mr. Stark snorts. "Card collection?"Mr. Coulson pulls a stack of cards out of his suit pocket, holding them out for Harry to see. Harry can't see what's on them, even when he squints. Mr. Coulson explains "That's Captain America."Harry whispers to his dad "Did he fight wizards?""He fought very bad people, alongside his friend Bucky Barnes." Mr. Coulson flips to another card that Harry can't see, but guesses has a picture of his dad looking like Bruce Wayne."He's a hero." Harry declares."He was." Mr. Coulson agrees. "They fought together, like Batman and Robin, and were the only two Howling Commandos to give their lives in service of their country.""Bucky wasn't Robin." Harry's dad speaks in a low growl."I'm Robin." Harry says again, wondering how Mr. Coulson missed it. The man seems to like Captain America almost as much as Harry likes Batman, except the man's wearing a boring suit, not a Captain America one.Mr. Coulson looks between Harry's dad and the card, before saying "Your chin looks a lot like Bucky's.""All right, agent." Mr. Stark interrupts quickly. "After your display of extreme fanboying, I'm going to assume you'd side with Cap. Plus you helped Pepper, even if you threatened me with a taser, so... call this very tentative trust."Jarvis starts talking in his smooth, Alfred-like voice. "Agent Coulson, while I in no way condone your prior threat to use a taser on Mr. Stark- and will not hesitate to stop you should you try to do so- Miss Potts seems to have a certain amount of trust in you."Mr. Stark hums at his butler's words. "I'd trust Pepper with my life, and she was on good terms with both of you.""Much better terms than you are." Miss Romanoff says, but not in a cruel tone like Aunt 'Tunia.Mr. Stark shakes his head slightly, and starts teasing "Really, agent, carrying a vintage card collection around on the off chance Cap comes up in conversation is just... wow."Mr. Coulson doesn't answer aside from a tiny smile and "He's my hero."Mr. Stark smiles his own smile that looks pretend, with raised eyebrows. "You and my dad would've gotten on like a house on fire."Harry thinks of the Dursleys' house, but when he starts to say so, Mr. Stark tells him it's just a saying.Harry doesn't know what's going on now. Are they good or bad? Mr. Stark changed so fast, like he'd changed from angry to saying he wasn't mad earlier. Harry's used to Uncle Vernon doing the opposite."He's my hero." Harry declares, pointing to his dad and glaring at Mr. Coulson and Miss Romanoff "If you try to take his brain, I'll glue and dis-arm you. And my dad will kick your butts."His dad can beat both of them up, even if they fight together. He'd beat up the giant, and now that his arm's fixed, he could easily win against them.Harry grins, remembering how he'd seen Robin do the coolest move on the telly. Harry tries to imitate a flip kick he'd seen the boy wonder do. Robin made it look so easy, but Harry feels himself start to tip over.His dad snags him by the ankle to stop his fall, and Harry dangles upside-down in his dad's grasp. He twists, and now his dad looks like he's hanging from the ceiling like a bat.Mr. Coulson is looking down (or up?) at Harry's forehead, where his lightning scar is. Maybe he'll hate it like Aunt Tunia."You're Harry Potter." the man, then asks Stark "How did you come into contact with both the Winter Soldier and Harry Potter?""No, I'm Robin. An' I'm gonna dis-arm you!" Harry declares, as his dad puts him over his skin shoulder, leaving his robot arm free to fight.Harry punches the air. "Let me down! I'll fight!""No." growls his dad James. His next words don't sound like they're to Harry. "If you touch him, I will eliminate you.""Put Harry to bed." Mr. Coulson sighs. "Then we'll talk."Harry can't go to bed! He had a bad dream, and so much is happening right now. Robin gets to stay up all night fighting bad guys with Batman. Harry knows he's not really Robin, but he wants to stay up too!"How do you know who Harry is?" Harry's dad demands, but it sounds like when grown-ups ask questions they already know the answer to."I have a high clearance in an intelligence agency." Mr. Coulson's voice is mild."You mean an agency that's anything but intelligent." Mr. Stark shoots back. "What do you know about him?""That's classified." Mr. Coulson says, still not raising his voice. "You've stumbled into more than you can possibly imagine, Mr. Stark.""Trust me, I know." Mr. Stark grumbles. "But I bet it's more than you can imagine, even with your top secret spy intel.""Like dumb witches." Harry says. Uncle Vernon hates imagination, even imagining evil witches, but they're real. He glances at Miss Romanoff again."I'm not a witch.""You had a gun," Harry nods, starting to believe her. "Not a wep-nized stick."Miss Romanoff frowns at Mr. Stark. "What did you do, magnetize my gun to pull it out of my hands?""Yep." Mr. Stark grins. Harry thought he felt something when the gun went flying, the feeling he got other times he used his... superpowers. Is Mr. Stark lying now?Mr. Coulson raises his eyebrows like he doesn't believe it, and Mr. Stark rounds on him. "So, are you going to tell us why everyone's after Harry since you know about him? Don't tell me you guys were after him, too, because you sure as hell aren't taking either him or Batman anywhere.""He's... important within certain circles." Mr. Coulson says, and Harry's not sure what shapes have to do with this, aside from the fact everyone looks at his scar, but that's lightning, not a circle."Yeah, I figured that out." Mr. Stark says."There's a lot you don't know, Mr. Stark.""What, like wizards? Yeah, I know about them. Genius, remember? I've even heard about some wacky guy named Dumbledore.""Wizards?" Miss Romanoff sounds confused but not angry like Aunt Tunia."I'll brief you later. It's more than New Mexico." Mr. Coulson's face doesn't change as he asks Mr. Stark. "Do you know about the Boy Who Lived?""I'm guessing that's Harry." Mr. Stark says. Harry crosses his arms. He's dressed as the Boy Wonder, that's different. "He survived some sort of car crash assassination from the, uh, Dark Lord."Harry bites his lip to stop himself from saying anything about Mr. Stark's parents and making him mad again.Mr. Coulson looks at Harry like he's sorry about something, then pauses before speaking slowly. "It wasn't a car crash. A bad wizard killed them.""Was it Dumb-Bell-Door?" Harry asks, because the dumb old man was going to cook him. Or maybe it was the enemy wizard with the long hair and dark clothes, who looked a bit like his dad but without a robot arm."No, it was a bad wizard most refer to as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.""Is that you redacting it, or do people seriously call him that?" Stark asks."They also seriously call him You-Know-Who. Many are scared to speak his name." Mr. Coulson turns to Harry. "You-Know-Who killed your parents, then cast the killing curse on you, but it rebounded. You're the only person known to survive it."Harry rubs his scar. "Dumb-Bell-Door's a bad wizard.""Dumbledore fought against You-Know-Who, along with your parents. They were like superheroes."Part of Harry likes the idea of his mummy and daddy being superheroes, not worthless like his uncle and aunt always said, but he looks back at his Batman dad. He already has a superhero dad who isn't like those wizards and witches."No. He tried'ta cook me. He took my Batman James dad away an' freezed him. My dad's a hero, not Dumb-Bell-Door.""He tried to cook you?" Miss Romanoff asks."Did you fight that bad wizard?" Harry asks his dad, hoping the answer is yes. He remembers watching his dad beat up the enemy wizard in the play park, and even threw a teeter-totter at him."Unknown. What method does the killing curse use?" Harry's Batman James dad shifts slightly on his feet, wrapping his dark cape over Harry. "Energy projectiles? Toxins? Cardiac arrest?"Mr. Stark makes a pained face at the last one, but it's gone by the time Harry's realized.Mr. Coulson blinks. "It just... kills. Magically."Harry's jaw drops. They were killed by magic, not a car crash? Were Mr. Stark's parents killed by this bad wizard guy too?Harry's dad almost growls, in a very Batman voice as he holds Harry close "Will he survive if it's used again?""I don't know. Nobody really knows how he survived the first time.""So did this unnamed evil wizard die when the curse rebounded?" Mr. Stark scowls. "Because if he did, I kind of want to resurrect him and kill him all over. He tried to murder a baby.""Nobody knows what happened." Mr. Coulson says. "He disappeared. Some say he died, but others think he's still lurking.""Great, so there could be an evil wizard along with this Dumbledore guy after them." Mr. Stark rubs a hand over his face. "And freaking HYDRA. Yes, I'm serious, and the only reason I'm telling you is you helped Pepper. But if you pull a Stane on me, I will destroy you along with HYDRA.""HYDRA's gone." Mr. Coulson says, shuffling his Captain America cards."I really hate to burst your bubble, but..."With a waved hand, glowing blue screens pop up like bubbles or the doe that brought them here. Harry had seen Mr. Stark and his Batman dad looking over some of them, which show the snakes and the old guy who isn't Piers, but Pierce.Now there are even more floating screens."Kind of earth-shattering, huh?" Mr. Stark asks as Mr. Coulson and Miss Romanoff look at the floating screens with blank faces. "You'd think this is the sort of thing an intelligence agency that apparently knows about freaking wizards would've picked up on, but no. They've been running as deep as the director."Mr. Coulson's face goes all stiff. "This is extremely worrisome.""Understatement of the century, agent." Mr. Stark mutters.Harry hears some click-clacking footsteps and jangling behind him. He tenses, thinking it's Ripper with his toenails scraping Aunt Tunia's floors and his dog tags. Harry presses close to his dad, who kept Nighty away when he turned into a bad dog.He doesn't see Ripper, or any dog, when he looks warily over his shoulder. Instead, Harry sees Miss Potts, and he shyly smiles."What are you doing up?" she asks him."Bad dreams. And Robin gets 'ta stay up." Miss Potts sends Mr. Stark a look like she's going to talk to him later, but Mr. Stark grins wider than he has since he got home earlier. "Miss Potts! So glad you can join the party."Miss Romanoff shakes her head and says "I don't think this will be a party." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "You're not going to go squealing to Fury about this, are you?" Stark asks Coulson and Romanoff, after they've relocated from the lab to the living room. Stark seems to be subsiding solely on caffeine, having consumed 3.6 mugs of coffee in the span of 18.1 minutes before Potts confiscated his mug."I trust him." Coulson has creases which indicate worry around his eyes as he scrolls through holographic documents. "But if your intel is accurate, Pierce has been stringing even Director Fury along."Trust me, the intel's accurate, the Bucky sounds sardonic in James's mind.James eyes Coulson. The man is obviously of a high rank, high enough that if he is HYDRA he'd know most, if not all, of the codewords to reset James into the Soldier. He has not used a single word, despite having ample opportunity to reset James, order him to kill Stark before Potts arrived, and collect Harry. By now he would have made the Asset complete the mission it had gone AWOL on.THE AGENTS WILL NOT TAKE HARRY. The voice does not specify if it means Coulson and Romanoff, other SHIELD agents, or HYDRA. It likely means all three, and the Bucky voice repeats the promise with more sentiment in its voice. Anyone who looks at him the wrong way..."You said they mocked Fury, right?" Stark interrupts the Bucky voice's description of what exactly will happen, turning to where James is sitting with his back against the wall where he can observe all entrances and exits.It takes 1.3 seconds for James to refocus enough to process the question and answer, a delay that would have earned him a slap from Pierce. He is unused to being addressed, or even present, during mission planning unless he is being briefed. "Affirmative.""And I'm guessing they didn't mock any HYDRA leaders, like Pierce?" Stark continues, seeming unconcerned with the wait and speaking to James as an equal.Coulson clears his throat. "I doubt a terrorist organization affiliated with Nazis would accept a man like Fury into their ranks. ""Touche," Stark runs a hand through his hair, "All right, Fury's probably not HYDRA."He glances at James again, who slowly nods, and Stark continues, "But I still say the fewer people know, the better. I mean, you've gotten duped by Pierce and STRIKE, and who knows who else is secretly evil."James eyes each member of the room, and Potts assures him. "I didn't tell Phil or Natalia."James turns his gaze on the agents, ignoring Stark's incredulous cry of "Phil?!""You will tell no one about us." James's voice comes out clipped, not at all like Bucky's inside his head.The old voice practically screams in his mind, seeming confused with the situation. DO NOT SPEAK WITHOUT PERMISSION. James has to remind himself there are no handlers here. Harry and Potts had relinquished their ownership, and Stark is a technician. Coulson is Romanoff's handler, but he is not James's, despite his high rank and suit that remind him of Pierce."Don't tell my secret iden-ty. Or my Bat dad's." Harry speaks for the first time since his whispered questions about whether or not they were leaving as James carried him from the lab. The boy mimics James's clipped tone, then twists in his lap to tell him "He said I'm Harry, but he didn't say yours.""I revealed your dad's identity to Agent Coulson as soon as he walked in the room." Romanoff's lips quirk upward. "It's hardly a secret now.""He's not just the Winter Soldier." Stark crosses his arms, then smirks at Coulson, seeming unable to resist gloating "If you only knew, Agent..."Show him our face and he'd probably worship the ground you walk on, beg for autographs for his cards. Bucky drawls in James's head.James grimaces internally at the thought, even if holding such power over the agent could be advantageous. It is fortunate that the Batman mask conceals his identity.Stark is starting to get heated, but Potts calms him down. Both Romanoff and Coulson appear calm and collected, but James can pinpoint the anxiety, confusion and frustration in their eyes as they view the files."There are more Winter Soldiers." James reveals yet another HYDRA secret, and his mind is suddenly consumed with thoughts of HYDRA sending one of the other soldiers to apprehend him and Harry. Or a Black Widow. His eyes narrow at Romanoff once again. She had presumably contacted Coulson as reinforcement and James has to remind himself again that Coulson has had ample opportunity to reclaim him, but hasn't."Hang on." Stark exclaims. "You mean there's more?! You aren't enough? Trust me, you seem like you'd be enough, and that's supposed to be a compliment, but-"Stark snaps his mouth shut, then opens it again. "Is it Rumlow? Rollins?"RUMLOW AND ROLLINS ARE NOT SKILLED ENOUGH. The inner voice almost sounds contemptuous at the thought. STRIKE is a highly trained elite squad, but not as trained as James or other Winter Soldiers."Negative.""Or are they all prisoners of war?" Stark throws a significant look at Coulson and Romanoff. "He was a POW. Totally not his choice to be what they made him."Potts is giving James a deeply sympathetic look, and Stark's eyes have compassion even if his face is more impassive.The voice of Bucky answers in James's head. They were HYDRA to the core. "They volunteered."Stark grimaces. "All right, so, bad guys through and through. Like, total monsters, won't even defect for an adorable little superhero?" The man shoots a grin at Harry.James's jaw clenches. He had killed the Dursley boy without defecting, had taken so many lives, orphaned people like Stark, destroyed families. He glances at the man's brown eyes, expecting to see the accusation from before, but it isn't there."They will not hesitate to kill Harry, if ordered."Potts looks horrified, Stark grim. Romanoff's face is stony, and Coulson has a sort of sad acceptance as if he's encountered this before."We have one of the best legal teams in the world." Potts says as she examines documents. Potts has fire in her eyes despite returning to her calm and collected demeanor. Just like Carter, the Bucky voice remarks, and James ignores it."But if this goes all the way to Pierce, HYDRA could be in the Supreme Court. The United Nations..." Potts looks questioningly at James."Unknown, ma'am." Potts is not a handler, but is to be respected nonetheless. She turns back to the documents, scouring them for anybody in Stark Industries."You know, I almost pity any HYDRA agent after you're done with them." Stark remarks."This would be much better undercover, before a huge trial." Romanoff remarks. James has to avert his gaze to attempt to stop the flashing memories of turning her into an assassin. HYDRA would have trained Harry to use the curse that killed his parents. With a soldier capable of using a killing curse, they might have frozen the Asset so he never saw the boy again, perhaps permanently decommissioned him.As the agents, Stark and Potts discuss how to keep their investigation covert, James keeps his eye on all entrances and exits. Stark had said Fury had a habit of trespassing, as Romanoff and Coulson had done. Even if the man is not HYDRA, James does not want to be caught unaware.As the Asset, James would be able to watch with unwavering focus, but his mind is fuzzy in a way that surely would have been wiped. His thoughts are staticky, apprehensive of possibilities and the intel he'd learned earlier.The intel on the assassination of Harry's parents had made James experience physiological reactions he is beginning to recognize as feelings. Even remembering it brings them back. The burning anger is familiar, but the swooping feeling is not. Is it relief, that he had not murdered the boy's parents as he had Stark's? That feeling sets his stomach churning again.The mission blares in his head. THE NAMELESS WIZARD WILL NOT HARM HARRY.James scowls at the voice, not sure it can promise that. According to Coulson, Harry is the only person to ever survive a killing curse, and there is no guarantee he would survive again.There is a small possibility James would be impervious to the killing curse, taking into account that he heals from gunshot wounds that would kill any non-enhanced individual. It is a slim possibility, likely under 10%. Despite the fact some of the spells the enemy asset had fired at him had no effect, the immobilization spell was all too effective. It is likely the killing curse would be as well."Is there armor against the killing curse?" James asks Coulson."Not if you're a Muggle- a non-magic person." Coulson says. "Unless you can dodge it."James had dodged or blocked several of the enemy asset's spells, and Harry had freed him from the immobilization spell. That does not seem like enough."We need to enhance your shields." he tells Harry, though James has no idea how to train that. The trainers that had worked on the Winter Soldiers and Black Widows would have fired non-lethal bullets at Harry until he learned, through pain, to shield himself. Would the Asset have been the one firing bullets at the boy to force him to use his shields?James will not use that approach."You need to put him to bed." Coulson says. Harry protests, hiding a yawn.James tightens his hold on Harry, unwilling to let his son out of his sight, not with the agents here. With the way Coulson and Romanoff had appeared with hardly any notice from Jarvis, Dumbledore and the enemy asset could materialize at any moment. Other Soldiers could swoop in.As they go through the documents, Romanoff spends spends 2.6 minutes interrogating Coulson about wizards in SHIELD. She clearly had not been at a high enough clearance to know about witches and wizards, but the intel makes realization flash briefly in her eyes."It was you who pulled my gun away, wasn't it?" Romanoff scrutinizes Harry, who shifts nervously in James's arms."That's one of his superpowers." Stark immediately leaps to Harry's defense. "Disarming, Jedi style.""I dis-awmed...?" Harry blinks, looking tiredly at James for confirmation. His speech is more muddled than usual."You disarmed her very well." James answers with an approving nod.A slow grin spreads over Harry's face as his eyes droop.Coulson, who has yet to reveal if he is a wizard despite Romanoff and Stark's questioning, asks the same questions about wizards in HYDRA. Despite the recent influx of memories, James cannot recall anything about wizards before Harry, but he had learned something from Dumbledore."Wizards erase memories." James has so much experience with that, he wouldn't be surprised if wizards had cleared his mind at some point too. He wonders if it hurts as much as the Chair."In England, they would have removed your memories of him and his magic." Coulson sends a surprised look toward Stark. "Even with the repeal of Rappaport's Law in 1965...""I shoot energy with my suits and have this in my chest." Stark says. "Maybe that fools whatever detection method they have.""They are looking for Harry." James scowls. "If they find him..."James leaves the sentence incomplete. He cannot do his duty as a father and ensure his son's safety. Even if they erase Jame's mind and Harry uses the word to become a handler again, the Asset cannot fight every type of magic."They'll take my dad's brain!" Harry cries."I could assign you protection detail." Coulson offers. "A witch or wizard, in case the Death Eaters attack.""No witches!" Harry protests, burying his face into James's chest."Witches and wizards aren't all bad." Coulson tells Harry gently."They eat kids." Harry protests, glaring suspiciously at Coulson."Those are just stories." Coulson answers almost helplessly, seeming to realize that children cannot distinguish fantasy from reality. Stark sends him an almost sympathetic look, no doubt thinking of the times he's tried to convince the boy Batman is fictitious.Harry clearly does not believe a word. "Dum-Bell-Door tried'ta cook me!""Was the fire green?" Coulson asks.Harry nods, frowning and rubbing his forehead. "Like in bad dweams. With bad guy laughs.""The Killing Curse." Coulson blinks. "You remember-"James cuts him off. "Dumbledore used the killing curse on him?" He'll break the old man's nose again with his prosthesis, rip him apart with his hands for trying to kill his son.Potts manages to defuse both James and Stark, enough for Coulson to explain that green fire is a way to travel, not a killing curse, and doesn't hurt at all. "It's called Floo Powder, and it lets witches and wizards go from fireplace to fireplace."Simultaneously, Stark and James turn toward the fireplace in the room, and Coulson assures them it isn't connected to the Floo Network. "The Killing Curse is also green, but it's not fire. More like an energy blast.""He wasn't cookin' me?" Harry asks, still partially in disbelief. Coulson shakes his head."Harry," Potts interjects gently. "There are superheroes, and super villains, right?"James feels Harry's head nod against his chest."They both have powers, and it depends how they use them. They can use them for good or bad. Like Matilda."Harry looks back at James for confirmation, so James tells his son "A weapon isn't good or bad. It's the person who wields it." THE ASSET IS A WEAPON. Before James can think too much on why the voice said that, Harry is speaking again. "There's good witches with good wep-nized sticks?""There are good witches and good wizards." Coulson nods. "Your parents were two of them. Lily and James were kind, and would never eat you or any other child. They both bravely fought the Dark Lord.""Then they died." Harry says in a completely neutral tone."If the Death Eaters attack, you'll need help from someone magical." Coulson echoes the thoughts running through James's head. At Stark's look, Coulson explains that Death Eaters are the Dark Lord's followers.Stark pinches his nose. "Just when I think I've heard everything... now there's HYDRA and some kind of wizard HYDRA too? How will we know this wizard isn't HYDRA?""Fury knows some Aurors who fought the Death Eaters, who survived several assassination attempts by the Dark Lord and his followers."James wonders if he'd been sent to assassinate any of them. It is likely he would have sniped them, rather than engage. Several memories of sniping flash through his mind, but he does not know if the targets were magical.When the memory fades, James realizes he hasn't processed any of the conversation. As the Asset, he would have listened with unwavering attention if required, had even overheard countless conversations he was not supposed to listen to, in which the handlers, technicians or agents speaking acted as if he was a mindless beast that could not understand them.He would not have been distracted by memories. How can he ensure Harry's safety in his current state?"I thought I was finally on the right side." Romanoff is staring at the transparent files of Rumlow and Rollins without truly seeing them."I've been there." Stark says in a low tone, seemingly to himself. "Nothing to do but blow it all up and start over.""So that's what you were doing with the warehouse." Coulson says.Several memories of explosions flash through James's mind. Some from his time as the Winter Soldier, but others from when his left arm was flesh and Captain America at his side. HYDRA bases. Bucky supplies in his head. I'd love to blow some to hell now.Romanoff glances in James's direction. "I guess I shouldn't have offered for you to join SHIELD. But you could help us."This offer, like her original offer to join SHIELD, is phrased in a way that sounds voluntary. When he was under HYDRA's command, nothing was voluntary. Even Pierce's speeches of him bringing order to mankind left no room for choice."Destroying them might be cathartic." Romanoff adds."It sure was when I did it." Stark's voice has a dark quality that is usually absent.James wants to raze HYDRA to the ground. Harry's safety cannot be ensured without its annihilation, but he cannot risk running into agents who could reset him, cannot leave Harry alone.No way in hell we're dragging him to bases. Bucky says. Harry needs safety and consistency."I need to be here for my son." he says, holding the sleeping form of Harry.Coulson nods in something that almost seems like approval. "Seriously, put him to bed. Get some sleep yourselves, you both look like you need it." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Tony can hardly wrap his mind around how far this past night- or, rather, morning- has spiraled after returning from the HYDRA base, as if that base hadn't been enough. No, it seems the universe is truly out to get him today, and it isn't even seven A.M."Tell our new magic guard to knock like a normal person instead of pulling a Santa down my chimney." says Tony as Coulson and Romanoff are leaving. He's had it with unannounced guests.Coulson nods vaguely, seeming more focused on establishing a passphrase for the wizard or witch to prove they're the guard instead of one of the Death Eaters.Tony's exhausted, but his mind won't quiet, still racing to make sense of everything he's learned in the past few hours as he ushers Pepper out the door. He should probably talk to her, but that can wait. He has files to hack, suits to improve, evil organizations to topple.He only vaguely processes the fact that James has fashioned a sort of sling for Harry out of his Batman cape, leaving his hands free to do something by the fireplace.Tony ends up crashing on the couch, not even making it to his lab or bedroom. He doesn't want to sleep, knowing he'll have nightmares even before learning about his parents. But he passes out anyway, his mind filled with explosions and the vague sense that James is rigging the fireplace to detonate. Oh well, Jarvis will handle it.His sleep is anything but restful. Tony dreams of tortured screams as he walks through the HYDRA base. No, he's in a cave, unsure if the screams are his own. Suddenly, he's outside, but it's still dark. He's standing by a familiar road at nighttime, watching helplessly from the sidelines as Howard's car spirals out of control. Howard tumbles out of the driver's seat, gasping on the pavement. Tony knows he should call Jarvis, or summon a suit, but he can can't move, can't speak as a shadowed figure stalks slowly, silently toward the car. Tony expects to see the Winter Soldier, to see James with emotionless eyes. Instead, Captain America appears, his eyes cold and his shield gripped tightly. Somehow, all Tony can think is that HYDRA got him too. "Cap..." Howard gasps as the Captain lift his shield. A blinding green light fires from the star, blasting Howard in the chest. Before Howard's body is finished crumpling to the ground, Captain America is by the passenger side, staring at Tony's mother and readying that now-magical shield of his. 'No...' Tony croaks, trying to move, call Jarvis, anything as that killing green light glows. Tony wakes with his breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding below his arc reactor. It takes him several seconds to hear Jarvis's calm voice urging him back."Try to breathe slowly, sir. You've had a severe nightmare." Tony's not sure how long it takes, but he gets his breathing and heart rate under control eventually.He digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, groaning. He realizes, now, that the dream was his brain processing everything he'd learned, twisting it into some weird crossover between the assassination of both his own parents' and Harry's birth parents'- except for the part about Captain America; Tony isn't sure how his brain cooked that one up. In any other situation, the thought of Captain America having an actual magical shield would be funny.It's only after he's drank his first cup that he remembers James mentioning the other Winter Soldiers. HYDRA had already gotten its twisted hands on Bucky Barnes after his supposed death. What if the organization had gotten ahold Captain America as well?No, the likelihood of that is astronomical.Still, he finds himself walking into Harry's room, which has become James's as well, despite the fact Tony gave the man his own room.James is awake and guarding the closet door. Tony has to wonder if Jarvis talked him down from his own nightmare as well, or if James slept at all."Those other Winter Soldiers... none of them were Captain America, right?" Tony asks.James takes a good half minute to reply. "No.""All right." Tony sighs. "Just a stupid dream. Everyone has them. I mean, none of it made sense. I was a teenager when it happened, but in my dream I was me now, and..."He stops talking, both because of the look James is giving him, and realization suddenly striking. Captain America probably wasn't a Winter Soldier, but maybe he hadn't died crashing into the Arctic as all the history books say.Howard's endless hunt for Captain America had always seemed particularly stupid to Tony, but James- a man who was thought dead, just like Cap, who had been repeatedly frozen in suspended animation- is standing in front of Tony right now, alive and well.Maybe 'alive and well' is a stretch considering the hell James has been through, but he is undeniably, well, alive.Who could better survive a crash in the Arctic than a super soldier?James's voice startles him out of his thoughts. "You dreamed Captain America assassinated your parents."Tony hopes he hadn't shouted in his sleep or anything. "Yeah, with that killing curse. But who hasn't had weird dreams?""Steve wouldn't-" James starts, his eyes far away. "It was me.""Let's not go into this again." Tony responds wearily. "It was HYDRA. They made you their weapon, and you told Harry weapons aren't good or bad. Anyway, there's a chance Steve could be alive. I mean, you survived, and he landed in the arctic."James's eyes are sharp again. "Cryonics requires precise conditions to maintain the body."Okay, now he's getting creepy again."Howard didn't stop looking." Tony sounds more bitter than he'd intended to. He can tell James is thinking something, his eyes deep, but he can't tell what. Is it guilt over the assassination?"HYDRA would've looked." James grits out, then "I had a vision that Pierce took Harry. Reset me. Killed Nighty.""Just now? Like a nightmare?""Before here." James says. "It was inaccurate. Pierce would have made me shoot Nighty in front of Harry."Tony remembers Harry once mentioning that Nighty was a bad dog. "I won't let him get you.""There are words." James grits his own words out through a jaw clenched tight enough to break teeth."Like magic words?" Tony frowns. Is Pierce magical?"Unknown. They can reset me, demand compliance. That's how Harry was the handler."Tony remembers seeing something about triggers in the documents at the base, but he thought that was more like PTSD triggers. Not that HYDRA cared at all about giving James extreme amounts of trauma.He has a million different questions, the most prominent if there's a way to disable those words, but Jarvis interrupts before he can ask a single one. "Sir, I believe your guard just arrived.""Are they invisible?" James asks, readying for action but seeming unwilling to leave his post guarding Harry."He is visible, Sergeant Barnes." Jarvis replies. "He has given the correct passphrase."Tony shoots James what he hopes is a reassuring grin as he heads out of Harry's bedroom. "I've got this."James's eyes almost look concerned for him, and don't seem to think he could hold his own against a wizard. Which, ouch, but then again, Harry had shorted out an Iron Man suit, surely a fully-grown wizard could do much worse.Tony is expecting a Gandalf or Merlin-esque wizard with a long, flowing white beard, or maybe some sort of elf mage like in fantasy games.His new guest is neither.Like James, the man has long hair falling around his face, a terrifyingly murderous gaze, and a prosthetic body part. The last two items on that list are combined in the form his left eye, which is strapped onto his head like a pirate's eyepatch. It darts around- at one point rolling completely backwards to gaze into the man's head- while the right eye remains steadily fixed on Tony."I'm here for Robin and his Bat-Shield." the man growls, and Tony would laugh at the ridiculousness of Coulson's passphrase if this man didn't look like he was going to kill him.Tony finds himself wishing Coulson had sent a witch that looked more like Romanoff, instead of a grizzled, scarred old man who's missing a large chunk of his nose.Seriously, this seems like the wrong guy to send when they're trying to convince Harry all magic people aren't scary. Or had Coulson figured that Harry wouldn't be bothered, not with the way the boy snuggles up to James, who can, quite frankly, be just as scary?"You've come to the right cave." Tony's own passphrase, so this guy knows he's the real deal, leaves a lot to be desired.Tony lets him in. The man clunks when he walks, and at first Tony thinks it's the huge wooden staff he's carrying. Then he glimpses another prosthesis, an actual peg leg, under the man's long, very worn coat."I thought Coulson was sending a wizard, not a pirate." Tony blurts out. This guy doesn't look like the sort to have a sense of humor, and given how things have been going for Tony recently, the wizard might just decide to turn Tony into a turtle or whatever they do to people who annoy them."Or did Fury send you?" Tony can definitely see this guy and Fury getting along as well as Fury gets along with anyone."You're hiding Potter in a closet?" the man asks as he walks further into the room, that left eye still rolling in its socket."He chooses to sleep there." Tony says, thankful for his many years of business meetings where he's learned to hide behind a mask, not showing his uneasiness at the fact the man apparently can see through walls. Is that something all wizards can do? Can Harry do that? Is this guy going to spy on him in the shower?The man's eye is already flicking to the fireplace, which Tony only now remembers is rigged to explode."You aren't connected to the Floo, but you should be taking precautions." the man sounds almost approving, even though he would have been blown to bits if he'd come through the fireplace like Coulson said wizards could."That was James." Tony says, and the prosthetic eye flicks towards Harry's room again."Heard Potter's already got protection detail." the man stumps across the room."Yeah, well, I guess you're our wizard guard now." Tony says."Alastor Moody." the man finally introduces himself."Moody?!" snorts Tony. "Did you and Fury change your names to fit your personalities, like the Seven Dwarfs?"He gets nothing but a scowl from the man, and Jarvis announces "Sir, Master Harry is awake."Moody's right eye flicks toward the ceiling, while the prosthetic eye goes absolutely bonkers, whirling in circles looking for the source of the voice."Where are you, ghost?" Moody mutters.The thought of ghosts being real is way more than Tony wants to deal with right now. Fortunately, he's distracted by James emerging silently from Harry's room.There's an incredibly awkward standoff where James and Moody glare daggers at each other. They exchange pass phrases and go right back to giving looks that could kill."Heard you were mind controlled." Moody snarls. "Convenient excuse for an assassin. Hard to disprove.""We have proof." Tony interjects quickly. Why in the hell did they send this guy? "Loads of it.""I've heard. Muggle method, worse than the Imperious." Moody's scarred face twists into a terrifying grin and Tony wonders where he'd heard that. He's pretty sure Coulson and Romanoff hadn't looked at James's files. "Something worse than Obliviate, too."Tony can guess what those words- spells?- mean, and he sure doesn't like either of them. At least Moody doesn't sound like he's accusing James anymore.Tony casts a quick look at James, hoping those weren't the trigger words he'd mentioned. James looks furious, but he still seems like James."I've heard you'll do anything to protect Potter." Moody continues. "That's good.""Including eliminating you." James intones emotionlessly. Tony blinks. What happened to James not killing, like Batman? Had he been reset?Moody chuckles darkly. "I don't think you could."Before James can retort, Jarvis interjects "I believe you share a common goal of protecting Master Harry, do you not? I'm not sure how well protected he would be if you killed each other.""Ouch." Tony exclaims, putting a hand over his heart and directing a wounded expression at the ceiling. "He'd still have me.""Might I remind you that Master Harry destroyed your suit, sir? Should a duel with Mr. Moody occur, it is likely several more of your suits would be damaged.""You can come out, Potter." Moody says to the door of Harry's room. "I'm your guard."Harry scampers next to James to peer up at the newcomer. He's squinting again, and Tony has to get the kid some glasses."You look like Two-Face." Harry says accusingly. Sure, Moody's face is scarred, but he's not as horrifically scarred as that particular villain, certainly not split down the middle. Or is he just referring to the huge left eye, which does bear some similarity."He's supposed to keep us safe from bad wizards and witches." Tony slowly explains, though he's wondering if this whole situation will blow up in their faces. They're certainly not off on the right foot. "He's apparently one of the good ones.""Even wit' a Two-Face eye?" Harry's face scrunches. Tony's actually really curious about the eye, but doubts Moody would let him run tests on it."Potter, I'm here to protect you from everything they can't.""You won't eat me?" Harry asks slowly."What are these muggles filling your head with, boy?" Moody's right eye scrutinizes their Batman and Robin costumes, as if his own coat is high fashion or something."You're still my dad." Harry declares, clinging to James as if Moody had been trying to replace him. "You pro-tect me more."James sweeps his cape around Harry "Till the end of the line." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Harry needs to see a doctor." Stark announces without preamble. As soon as he mentions the word 'doctor', James's mind is bombarded with memories. Strapped down on a table, fire coursing through his veins. A saw approaching him, needle after needle being plunged into his flesh. Screaming until his voice is gone, the conditioning to ensure silence. Sitting still and compliant while the prosthesis sparks- When he refocuses on the present, Moody and Stark are scrutinizing him, Moody keeping Harry away with one hand.Harry is swinging his fists at the wizard, shouting, before he glances over at James. "Ma-mario-" OBEY "Harry." James grits out as the Soldier comes to the forefront of his brain. Harry snaps his mouth shut before the codeword is finished.James breathes harshly, fists clenched as he slowly regains himself. His body is trembling slightly, it should not be.HARRY IS, the voice pauses, NOT THE HANDLER He's our son. Bucky says."H-he was takin' your brain." Harry's voice is a choked whisper, aiming an accusing finger at Moody. "You said'ta use-""I did nothing. Your muggle guard lost his wits." Moody growls, both eyes boring into James. "You think you can protect him like that? You need constant vigilance.""That was one of the-" Stark has a look of horrified realization dawning on his face. "Harry, your dad was remembering something bad. Nobody was taking his brain, but you almost..."Stark cuts himself off again, and Harry looks toward James for confirmation. James gives a sharp nod.Protecting Harry was almost easier as the Soldier, without the distraction of the Bucky voice or the memories impairing his concentration.Thanks a lot, pal, grumbles Bucky. Thought we were in this together.He knows the memories interfere with his functionality, but Harry had been aghast at the idea of them being wiped. Harry had relinquished his authority as handler, but James will respect Harry's wishes.Stark has his hands up, his brown eyes boring into James. "I'm not a fan of doctors either. I meant Jarvis, just doing an eye exam for Harry."Harry looks dubiously at Moody's prosthetic eye. "I don't want that.""It has its uses." Moody says as the eye rolls back into his head."I meant glasses." Stark assures Harry, who is relieved. "Jarvis, pull up an eye chart. Do you even know letters, Oliver?""More'n Dudley." says Harry. "Dudley knows D.""Just D?" Stark asks.Jarvis tests Harry's vision using a chart with letters arranged into a triangle, decreasing in size as the rows descend. Afterward a similar chart, this time with various pictograms, is presented. Harry squints, only deciphering the largest items at the top of the triangles."One of the many perks of living with a genius inventor like me," Stark boasts, "is that you don't have to wait... however long people wait for new glasses. I can make 'em right here.""I had circles." Harry tells him.Stark scoffs at the concept of circular glasses as he descends the stairs to his lab.Harry's small form scampers from the closet to crouch by the nightstand, then slinks under the bed. Harry is more adept at hiding than most children his age would be, but he is still easily detected by James's trained eye.Moody's prosthetic eye rolls towards the boy's position. It is, evidently, capable of seeing through solid objects and is even more observant than Jarvis with its cameras hidden throughout every room.James has been carefully watching Moody since his arrival 27.4 hours ago, analyzing possible weaknesses and waiting for an attack. Remaining undetected by that prosthetic eye would be a challenge, and Stark had remarked earlier, as Moody sniffed at his lunch with the remaining part of his nose, that the wizard is "even more paranoid" than James.Harry creeps from under the bed, still under the impression that he has not been seen, and aims a punch at the back of James's knee. Before his tiny fist can make contact, James whirls around, grabbing his arm. He nods with approval as Harry uses the strategies James had taught to twist free."Okay, this needs to stop." Stark says, leaning in the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest."Laddie needs to defend himself." Moody growls. "Too many people after him."That's one thing we agree on, says Bucky in James's mind. Moody had seemed grudgingly impressed witnessing their training, but had also suggested training magical defenses."I thought that was your job." Stark cuts in. Moody gives an affirmative grunt."So why all this training?" Tony goes on. "Sure, kids can take martial arts classes and play hide-and-seek, but you're starting to take this to extreme levels and that's not okay."Moody opens his mouth, but Stark continues speaking. "Seriously, he's got three guards. If they get through all of us, he's toast no matter how much you train him." UNACCEPTABLE Before James can speak, Stark continues."Let him be a kid!" Stark exclaims, throwing his hands up. "He's four, and he's already had a crappy childhood. He should be playing, watching TV, breaking his toys. Not being pushed to be some sort of child soldier.""Superhero." Harry corrects. It is good that he is applying the term to himself.Stark pinches his nose. "Okay, I know you're wearing a Robin suit- which is starting to smell by the way, seriously, you two should change- but you're not really Robin. Not even Batman recruits four-year-olds to fight for him."Harry smiles victoriously. "You didn't say Batman's not real!""Just because I didn't say it this time, Oliver, doesn't mean he's suddenly real." Stark sighs. "Look, he was skittish enough when you arrived, and now you're encouraging it more? Most four-year-olds are screaming for candy in the store.""Dudley scweamed for sweets." Harry says."You should not." James says. How can Stark suggest that? James is glad Harry had not screamed during either of their Tesco thefts. They have to keep a low profile.Harry's tone becomes wistful as he says "He kicked Aun' Tuna."James struggles with forcing down the memories of murdering the Dursleys. As recalcitrant as Dudley had been, he did not deserve the death he'd been given by James's hands."Try again," Moody tells Harry. "You should've been trained from the start, not with those damn muggles.""Did you hear anything I just said?" Stark demands before focusing on James. "You know, Pepper won't be thrilled to know you're teaching Harry to hit people, or be some sort of spy kid. That's right, Terminator, I can tattle right back. And believe me, you won't like her wrath."Potts is not his handler, but she has an authority that demands respect. Her displeasure is to be avoided, even if she likely will not inflict pain as punishment.Moody appears unimpressed by Stark's threat. "Training is important.""Not spy training. Seriously, do you want him to be like Romanoff?" Stark demands. Romanoff is competent, and can easily defend herself against any assailant except James.While training Harry, James has had flashes of training Steve- small, skinny Steve- how to defend himself from bullies in allies, coupled with flashes of the Red Room.That ain't the way for a kid to grow up, Bucky had when James had a flash of the Red Room. This training is different. Hadn't Bucky shown Steve how to defend himself from bullies? The punk never wanted the help. "Anyway, I came up to tell you your glasses are finished." Stark says. "Seriously, change your clothes. You can have a whole new, awesome, Harry look."Once they arrive at Stark's lab- no longer dressed as Batman and Robin, though James is still wearing black- Stark holds out a small pair of rectangular glasses. Despite his mockery of circular frames, James notices a pair of them resting on the workbench near Stark.Harry slips the glasses onto his face and surveys the room with his mouth hanging open."Everything clearer?" Stark asks with a satisfied grin."I see circle ones!" Harry jabs his finger at the circular frames sitting on the workbench 2.9 meters away from him.Stark rolls his eyes, which Harry says is 'looking at da ceiling' and hands him the circular frames."Dum-E, get the ball."One of the robots approaches with its claw gripping a ball, and Stark explains to James "You're his dad. Play catch. It's one of those things dads always do on TV."James complies. Harry obviously loves tossing the ball around, and is surprisingly skilled at snatching it out of midair.Sign him up for the Dodgers, Bucky sounds fond in James's head, and James has the inexplicable urge to ruffle Harry's hair. He does so with his flesh hand. Harry's hair had never been neat anyway."James said you'd make a seeker one day." Moody tells Harry. Harry turns to James, face splitting into a prideful grin, and Moody amends "Your dad.""He is my dad." Harry speaks slowly, as if Moody is dense.James cannot recall watching a baseball game, but Bucky does (with Steve, of course, sneaking in when they couldn't afford the tickets). James shows Harry how to pitch the ball, which Dum-E clumsily attempts to bat with its arm.Stark, meanwhile, is working on about four different project simultaneously. He flicks through holographic SHIELD documents, tinkers with a holographic projection of his Iron Man armor, and converses with Jarvis about the location of Captain America.James's head is practically filled with Bucky's chant of Steve. Bucky sounds simultaneously hopeful of Steve's survival, and horrified at the thought of HYDRA getting ahold of him. James honestly cannot recall Steve being one of the other Winter Soldiers, but his memory is full of voids. If HYDRA had claimed Steve, they could have kept him and James in separate bases and James would never have known."I got him out!" Harry cheers, and it takes James a moment to realize Harry is not talking about Steve, but rather that Dum-E had swung and missed three times."Good job." James ruffles Harry's hair again, feeling the weight of Moody's judgement on him at his lack of concentration.After 17 missed swings by Dum-E (Five outs, two strikes, supplies the Bucky voice), Jarvis announces a message from an unknown number, and Romanoff's voice filters through the speakers."Hey Tony. I had a blast bowling the other night," Romanoff sounds almost unrecognizable with a cheerful tone and California accent. It is an effective cover for anyone who might be listening in. "I can't believe I missed that strike! I've been practicing, and I got one last night."Moody's prosthetic eye darts in every direction. Stark, despite his documented genius intellect, only now seems to be piecing together the caller's identity. Had he thought she was a lady he'd been sweet on?Has Romanoff incapacitated or eliminated a STRIKE member. She does not say if it was Rumlow or Rollins, but it is likely other STRIKE agents still remain. The destruction of the entire STRIKE team would be one fewer threat on a long list of threats, but it would be a start."The secretary had nasty old pairs of bowling shoes, I wanted to chuck them, but I couldn't yet."No other new intel is revealed as Romanoff wraps up the call, as far as James can decipher. He has to give Romanoff credit- the call sounded entirely innocent, unlikely to be suspected by an outsider.She had been trained by the best.Watching Harry pretend to drive one of Stark's many cars floods James's brain with images of shooting the tires of Howard Stark's car, sending Romanoff's car off the cliff near Odessa.The next image is not a memory, it is quite possibly worse. James sees his prosthesis aiming a sniper rifle at Harry's forehead, where the lightning bolt scar is hidden behind his bangs, as the boy makes engine sounds with his mouth. His flesh finger rests over the trigger, a voice is screaming in his head not to pull it, and-Harry is on the floor by the car, stunned, a hand coming up to cup the bloody knee he had acquired from his fall. James checks his hands. The flesh hand is shaking slightly, but the prosthesis does not waver. No sniper rifle is in them, or anywhere in the vicinity. Still, he is rooted to the spot at the image, at what could have happened.Bucky is urging James to go forward, to comfort Harry and tend to his injuries. Instead, James's fists are clench tight enough that they'd shatter Harry's wrists if he took hold of them.Moody approaches the boy, aiming his weaponized stick at the gash in Harry's knee.Pick on someone your own size, Bucky snarls in Jame's head. STOP HIM. James lurches forward. He should have known Moody was an enemy, should have eliminated him on his arrival.James feels as if he's moving at only 50% his usual speed. Moody aims the weaponized stick at him, and suddenly his velocity has been reduced to 25%. He cannot stop Moody from aiming the weaponized stick at Harry. FASTER Harry starts to reach for the weaponized stick, attempting to use the disarming method that James taught him. James wonders why he is not magically disarming the wizard as he had Romanoff.Moody brushes the boy's hand aside, waves the weaponized stick.The cut disappears almost instantaneously. Harry gives a shocked gasp, hand poking the spot where the gash had been and his voice laced with wonderment. "It's gone..."Moody does not turn away from Harry, but James suspects the prosthetic eye is staring through the back of the wizard's head at James. "You still going to attack me?"He hadn't attacked Harry, he had healed him, far faster than even James's own body heals from injuries. He'd taken away the pained expression on Harry's face that had sent a blade piercing through James's heart.James very slowly shakes his head, and suddenly the spell is released. James rushes to Harry, examining him for other injuries."He fixed me." Harry looks awed. "He fixed me even better'n you."The words pierce James, emphasizing how useless he was. He hadn't stopped Harry from falling, hadn't tended to his injuries, too consumed by his own mind to give his son the attention he needed. James can almost feel Moody's judgement, as if James had chosen to neglect his duty as Harry's father."Was that magic?" Tony breaks the silence excitedly. Moody confirms with a nod."Good magic." Harry murmurs, continuing to examine his knee with a thoughtful expression. He speaks louder and more decisively. "Thank you, Mr. Moody. You're a good wizard."James backs off, the vision of almost murdering Harry still fresh in his mind. Harry had revealed most of the codeword to Stark and Moody, they could likely piece together the rest and-"Daddy?" Harry scrambles to his feet, approaching James. "Are you okay?" He sounds simultaneously younger and older than his four years.James gives a jerky nod. After 3.6 seconds of observing him, Harry asks "Can we play catch?"James relaxes slightly at the joy on his son's face, even from the simple act of tossing the ball around. The ball starts to defy the laws of physics, floating in midair and darting away when Harry tries to catch it.After laughingly chasing the ball, Harry looks at Moody in amazement, only for the wizard reveals that it is Harry who is causing the levitation.Harry manages to smack the ball toward James, who accidentally flattens it when he smacks it back. The destroyed rubber falls to the floor, and Harry's face falls with disappointment.Moody fixes the ball as easily as he'd fixed Harry's knee."So," Stark asks Moody over dinner. "Do wizards have any nifty ways of tracking down, say, someone possibly trapped in suspended animation in the middle of the arctic?"Steve. Bucky's voice is almost louder than the mission has ever been."Owls are excellent trackers." Moody growls. "No way to track them unless you fly behind them, and they try to shake you.""I've got flying covered." Stark gives a cocky grin before asking "Wait, you magic people use owls as carrier pigeons?""We use owls as owls."James frowns. An owl had appeared immediately before Dumbledore and the enemy asset captured them. James does not want to risk that happening again. "Owls cannot be trusted." THEY WILL FIND HARRY. "Most are well-trained. Some nip you."Harry considers this. "There's good owls and bad owls... like magic. Are owls magic?""They are." Moody answers.Stark looks excited "So if I were to say, stick a GPS on an owl and tell it to find Captain America, it would?"Stark sighs at Moody's uncomprehending expression, and launches into a technical description. Moody seems to be doubting Stark's sanity. "Muggles let themselves be tracked?""You guys don't use email? Or phones?" Stark fires back, then glances at Harry. "Or would you fry them?"Harry giggles as if he is doubting Stark's sanity as well. He glances at the stove. "I never f'yed a phone!""What about that eye of yours?" Stark nods to Moody's prosthetic eye. "Can you see all the way to the arctic from here?"At Moody's expression, Stark mutters "I'll take that as a no. All right, well, what if we send out an owl, and I follow it?"James thinks this idea is terrible, not to mention impractical. He does not entirely trust Moody's intel that owls cannot be traced. "Owls do not hunt underwater."Stark concedes the point. "Or Stalker-Eye here can go and do his creepy looking-through-solid-objects thing.""I'm here to protect Potter, not search for missing soldiers." Moody eyes James, clearly thinking that leaving Harry alone with James would not constitute adequate protection. He is not wrong."I'm Iron Man, I don't need an owl." Stark acts as if the previous conversation had not occurred. "I can't wait to hold this above Coulson and Fury."We should go, Bucky sounds almost frantic. THE MISSION IS TO PROTECT HARRY. He's got a better guard. Bucky sounds bitter in James's mind. Steve has to be alive. We should have searched earlier, we should have-James frowns. Bucky had been the one who suggested the words til the end of the line. There is no concrete proof Steve is alive, it is merely a theory Stark had from hearing of James's experiences.James does not think he has said anything, but Harry reaches toward him. "Daddy, don't go!"James looks at his hands. They have killed, many times, they have killed children. He doesn't deserve to be Harry's father. Steve would be a better guard, a better dad.He feels Harry's tiny hand grip his sleeve, and it feels simultaneously right and wrong. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The voices in James's head are at war. They have not battled this much since the Asset first went AWOL with Harry, abandoning the mission to deliver him to HYDRA.THE MISSION IS TO PROTECT HARRY, the oldest voice repeats for the forty-seventh time in the past hour. SEARCHING FOR STEVE IS AGAINST PARAMETERS.The Bucky voice has been fixated on finding Steve with an intensity that rivals the Asset's. Once Stark brought up the possibility of Steve being alive, Bucky had taken it as a mission to find him. But Steve-The first voice cuts off Bucky's protest, restating the mission. Bucky's voice had been the force that turned the mission to protecting Harry in the first place, but now Bucky is arguing for leaving him.The voices clash louder until they are almost shouting in James's mind.Harry tosses in his sleep next to James, and for a moment James wonders if the voices had woken him, before reminding himself that Harry cannot hear them.Moody is dozing in an armchair, one eye shut while the prosthetic eye continues to roll around in its socket. James is unsure of how much Moody processes while asleep, if the wizard could be caught by a surprise attack. MOODY IS AN ALLY. He is more than an ally. He is better suited to protecting Harry than James is.He'll watch Harry while we find Steve and then- Bucky starts to say. ABANDONING HARRY IS MISSION NONCOMPLIANT. James wonders what happened to 'til the end of the line. Bucky had said it to Steve, but James had said it to Harry as well.How safe is he around you, really? Bucky asks.James frowns. He's relived visceral memories involving children, not just smothering the Dursley boy.He pictures a target clutching a child younger than Harry, too young to have learned to walk or talk. The Soldier had faltered, and been punished later, but in the end had carried out the mission. The target had been sniped. He cannot recall what happened to the infant, and is not sure he wants to.Part of him wishes he could forget the image of his hands smothering the Dursley boy, or wrapping around Maria Stark's throat, but he deserves to remember.At 0058, Harry awakes with a soft gasp that does not wake Moody. The boy is trembling, gripping James's cape and a small, choked voice whispers "Daddy?""I'm here." James answers quietly. Harry lets out a soft sigh, as if he'd feared James would be gone, and wordlessly crawls into James's lap, still clutching the cape like a blanket.Harry's trembling and rapid heartbeat slowly settle in the 4.7 minutes James holds him."Was it the green light?" James asks. He likely cannot protect Harry from a Killing Curse. Even if Harry survived once, he may not a second time."Can we have hot cocoa?" Harry asks, less tentatively than he'd been when James first found him.James should follow Jarvis's caution about sugar interfering with sleep, but instead leads his son to the kitchen. A smile spreads on Harry's face as James takes out two mugs.Harry dumps twice the recommended portion of cocoa into James's mug, saying decisively "You need lots, 'cos you look sad."'Sad' doesn't really cover it, Bucky says.James should be focusing on his son as they sip hot chocolate, but he isn't. It takes him 4.3 seconds to process that Harry has said something to him."Are you goin' ta look for your friend?" Harry asks with a frown. "The Cap-tin?"James hesitates, trying to ignore Bucky. "He would be a better father than I am.""No! He's dumb!"Can't argue there, drawls Bucky, before James hears a conversation from a memory of when Bucky's voice had come from his own mouth.'Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone.' 'How can I?' Steve- small, skinny Steve- shoots back. 'You're taking the stupid with you.' That from the man who agreed to be pumped full of experimental serum and charged recklessly into fights without any sort of plan."I don't want a cap-tin dad." Harry glowers in a way that looks like he's mimicking James's own expressions."He is a hero," James replies. "like Superman."The punk ain't that much of a goody-two-shoes, Bucky says, despite his eagerness to find Steve.Harry appears entirely unconvinced. "He didn't save me from da Dursleys."James thinks of the near captures and successful capture. It is too risky. "I cannot always fight the bad guys."Harry takes 2.3 seconds to think that over. "The Cap-tin's freezed now." Had he misunderstood the dinner conversation, is he imagining Steve frozen in the way the enemy asset had immobilized James?"You fight bad guys better." Harry concludes with childish simplicity. "I like Batman more'n Superman. Lots, lots more.""I am not like Batman." James's jaw is tight over his failure, at not being able to perform optimally to meet the designations his son has given him. Batman or Father.The mug shatters in his clenched fist, and brown liquid seeps over the table. James stops Harry from attempting to clean it up, and cleans his own mess.How can he be a father when he's murdered children?"There is always a path for redemption."At first, James thinks the voice is Jarvis. It is calm and nonjudgmental, with a trace of a British accent, but he realizes the voice is inside his head.Bucky demands Who the hell are you?'Professor X,' the voice replies. The professor's voice, James realizes, is a foreign entity, unlike the other voices filling his mind. LEAVE If the professor is inside his mind, he can find the triggers, he can-'I would not need those to control you,' the Professor tells him, though James does not detect a threat in the statement. YOU ARE NOT A HANDLER. 'I am not.' the man agrees.He is an enemy, likely a wizard, sifting through memories like the enemy asset.'Close,' Professor X replies. 'I am a mutant.'James feels his body go slack. He cannot fight this. The man can do anything to him. Turn him into the Soldier, make him assassinate Harry, then forget everything. Make him kill Steve upon finding him.YOU ARE NOT A HANDLER, comes a little less sure now. If the man can enter his mind, he could easily become one.'I will do none of that,' Professor X radiates calm, and James feels his muscles relax not in defeat, but in a calm he cannot recall ever feeling before.'You've been stripped away, made to do terrible things.' Professor X seems to radiate sympathy in James's mind. If he can see in, he must know what James has done.'I know a man quite like you, James.'Bucky snorts in disbelief. Good luck findin' another Second World War vet turned assassin. Better check the line of them goin' round the block.'His name is Logan.' Professor X ignores Bucky's smart retort. 'I won't go into too many personal details, but he-"Bucky interrupts again. Funny you should be concerned with violating people's privacy when you're invading minds. 'Logan is a teacher, James.' Professor X continues. 'He is as powerful as you are, with quite the temper, and we still trust him around our students. Some of them are quite fond of him, as young Harry is of you."James feels his jaw clench. If the professor's been poking through Harry's mind... 'I don't have to be a telepath to see how fond Harry is of you.' You mentioned students. James thinks suspiciously. One of the moving paintings in the castle had mentioned students and Moody had told Harry about a school earlier that evening.'I run a school for gifted individuals.' Professor X says. 'Most are mutants, but there are many similarities to mutant powers and magic. If you do not want your son to attend the school that kidnapped you, we could open up a spot for him here.'James hasn't even thought of of school, but knows it is required for children. Harry isn't quite old enough to begin his education, but it's surely something a father would have thought of.'You're spiraling, James.' Professor X says. 'Under your circumstances, it is perfectly understandable that you have not thought of school when fighting to attain the more basic need of safety.'Settling down for Harry to attend a school would only make them more likely to be found by HYDRA or Dumbledore and the enemy asset.'I did not reach out merely to talk about Harry's schooling.' Professor X says. 'I may be able to help you recover what you've lost.'James almost wants to smack his forehead when Bucky immediately asks Do you know where Steve is? For all James knows, this guy could be HYDRA- they have the most experience with playing around in his mind. If this professor can truly read his thoughts, he can't hide anything anyway.The professor is silent for 15.6 seconds. 'I believe he is in some form of suspended animation.'Where? Bucky tries to silence the voice. Stark and Moody already had a plan for finding Steve, even if it involves owls.'I was not referring to finding Steve Rogers.' Professor X says. 'I may be able to help you recover memories, and possibly help with-"No. The memories are already returning too fast and too strong. Even if this man could smooth them over, make them less debilitating, if he could nullify the trigger words, James would be better able to protect Harry, and be less of a threat.James does not want anyone messing around in his head. What he wanted never mattered, and James is surprised that he thought about not wanting it, when not long ago he'd asked Stark for a wipe.'I will of course respect your wishes, but the offer stands.' Professor X says.Turning down the possibility of help- not that he trusts it- still leaves James exactly where he's started- unworthy of being Harry's father and guardian.'Many would consider my brain to be a weapon of mass destruction.' Professor X tells him. 'Some view mutants as dangerous creatures that should not be trusted. We can show those who believe such that they are wrong.'That doesn't change the fact James can be turned into the Asset in a string of ten words, can be forced to obey any order given to him.'I may be able to help with that.' says Professor X. 'Now, I apologize for keeping you from your son for so long.'James can't say he feels the Professor exit his mind, but the man no longer responds to his thoughts. He notices Harry's face is pinched with a level of concern that should not be on a child's face."Was it a mem'ry flashback?" Harry asks, looking down at his own mug of hot cocoa before sliding it toward James."This is yours." James pushes the mug back toward his son.Harry gives him a stern look. "You won't get any hot cocoa if you leave."James thinks. He is not the man Steve knew. Bucky is a voice locked in his head. Steve would surely be disappointed at what James is now, would likely want nothing to do with him.Ignoring Bucky's voice, James says "You're my mission. You're too important to go AWOL on."A long black car pulls into Mr. Stark's driveway, and a man in a suit gets out to open the door to the backseat."You do have a Alfred." Harry gapes as Mr. Stark climbs into the back. The back is for kids, not adults."This is Happy, my driver and head of security." Mr. Stark gestures to the suited man. "He's not really a butler.""I don't know. You have me get your cheeseburgers, boss." Mr. Happy says, before looking at Harry. "Well, this explains the child safety seat."Harry squirms slightly as his dad buckles him in. He'd rather sit on his dad's lap, to make sure his dad won't leave him. He said he wouldn't go AWOL, which Jarvis said means leaving, but all the adults have been acting strange the past few days, talking about moving and searching for the Captain.His Batdad sits next to him, and Harry reaches out to grip his sleeve.Mr. Moody is scowling even more than usual when he climbs into the car, holding a broom and a owl in a cage. Harry isn't sure where he got either of those, and wonders when Mr. Moody is going to make him sweep.Mr. Stark talks during the drive, but Harry's dad and Mr. Moody don't reply. Mr. Stark keeps talking, going on about building a car that would be cooler than the Batmobile because it could fly, and how Howard's flying car blew up but Mr. Stark's would because he's better.Mr. Stark stops after mentioning Howard and glances over at Harry's dad."Or a flying moto-bike?" Harry asks. He'd seen one in a dream once, and he thinks there might have been a giant too, wearing a coat like the giant that attacked his dad. Harry frowns and doesn't say that part.Instead of shouting, or hitting him for talking about 'unnatural' things, Mr. Stark grins and says that would be way more awesome. He starts using big words Harry doesn't understand.They pull into what Harry thinks is a car park, except the building doesn't look like Tesco, and then he sees an aeroplane with the same logo as one of the mugs they'd used for hot cocoa.Harry wriggles with excitement as he's unstrapped and carried toward the plane. He's never flown before, except for jumping off the train.Inside, there are fireman poles that Mr. Stark makes disappear into the ceiling before Harry can try sliding on one. They didn't even go through the floor, so whoever built them did a bad job.Harry peers out the window, watching as Mr. Moody sits on his broom like its a motorbike. It even has a seat, and at first Harry thinks he's pretending it really is a motorbike.Then he sees the broom float off the ground."I wanna ride it!" he jabs his finger at the window and scowls when his dad says he can't. This would be even better than a flying motorbike."I do not believe broomsticks are equipped with proper safety measures." says Mr. Jarvis. Harry didn't know he was in the plane, too."I'll make you something even better." Mr. Stark smirks. "Don't worry, Batsy. I'll make sure it's got safety features. Then again, I wasn't the one giving him a knife."Mr. Moody pulls on some sort of cape and disappears.As the plane takes off, Harry imagines he's sitting on a broom. He can almost feel the wind whipping his hair as he imagines gripping the broom to go faster and steer around a table leg.A jet of red light whizzes past the window, and Harry remembers he's in the plane.Mr. Stark is talking fast as his armor wraps around him. The eyes on Iron Man's mask light up and he opens a door to jump out. There's a roaring of air coming from the door, until it slams shut.Harry kneels in the chair to watch Iron Man fly past the window, shooting at someone on a broomstick and dodging a green blast.His dad pulls him away from the window and down to the floor. "Do not make yourself an easy target.""I would advise strapping Master Harry in." Mr. Jarvis says as the plane shudders."But we haf'ta fight bad guys!" Harry says."Stay here." His dad looks tense, ready to fight as something thunks at the door.Harry hopes it's Mr. Stark or Moody, but he can't see out the window when he's strapped in.The door blasts open, and a woman flies in on a broom, pointing a weaponized stick at them.A witch!James spins Harry's chair so he's looking the other way, at the same time hurling a glass at the witch's head.Blasts and crashes fill the plane, and there's a sound like something bouncing off his dad's robot arm. What if they break it again?The woman is talking in that funny way his dad and Ms. Romanoff and the bad guys with guns do, only it's not funny now. Harry knows they're bad words, but they're cut off by what sounds like his dad ripping one of the chairs from the floor and throwing it.Harry screams as his dad is hurled into the door near the front of the plane, smashing through it and hitting the panel full of buttons.Harry fumbles with the buckle holding him down, and his dad's eyes widen in a silent warning that means trouble.A green flash flies toward his dad, who rolls out of the way. It hits the steering wheel, which was steering on its own. The whole plane tilts forward and starts to fall, leaving Harry hanging in his seat, his dad scrambling below him.The woman tumbles toward Harry's dad, and the buckle explodes under Harry's hands. He falls to the front of the plane, where his dad and the woman are wrestling on top of the front window. Beyond the glass, people and planes are flying around, shooting at each other.The witch seems a lot worse at fighting up close, and he watches his dad wrestle the weaponized stick from her grasp. Disarming.The weaponized stick tumbles to the middle of the window while his dad and the witch keep fighting on the curved part.Harry slides toward the weaponized stick, wishing he could freeze the witch like the bad wizard froze his dad. That way, he could make sure this witch wouldn't try to do that to his dad.With a trembling hand, he picks up the weaponized stick. He points it at the witch and shouts for her to go away.The window under them explodes, and suddenly, Harry is falling. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The world whirls around as Tony corkscrews through the air, then arcs to dodge a blast of magic. He has no idea what effect that particular spell or jinx or whatever it is has; if it would turn him to stone or simply short out his suit like Harry did. Either would send him plummeting to his doom."Incoming plane at your six, sir." Jarvis reports inside Tony's helmet. Who would've thought they'd bring planes and freaking broomsticks? Any chance of the planes being SHIELD backup- not that Tony needs it- is shattered as quickly as the plane fires at him. This isn't like that test run where the Air Force almost shot him down, by now the whole world knows who Iron Man is.Tony wasn't exactly surprised to realize they were under attack- it's a pretty regular occurrence for him, actually- but seeing these people zip around on broomsticks that have no clear method of propulsion or stabilization is jarring, and Tony hates that the only explanation seems to be magic. How did they even catch up with his jet anyway?He wonders, briefly, if his mother saw anything like this on the night HYDRA made James-Tony furiously fires a repulsor at a passing wizard, but the wizard simply swishes his wand and sends Tony's own blast back at him. Tony barely rolls out of the way, swearing under his breath.A blast flies out of literally nowhere, and Tony realizes it must be Moody with that super-concealing cloak. He's going to have to study that thing, maybe it uses reflective panels like SHIELD tech that Fury probably doesn't know Tony knows about. Or magic.The visible wizard battles the invisible one, wand slicing through the air like a sword, only they're shooting various energy blasts at each other.In retrospect, maybe they're not here for him. Moody seems like the sort of guy that has a ton of enemies, and Harry and James are evidently on a lot of people's wanted lists.Crap, Harry and James. They should be safe in his plane, it has bulletproof windows, a reinforced hull. Apparently that doesn't matter, since some witch simply blows the door open with magic and flies her broomstick in. Tony remembers Natasha's weapons flying off her body and wonders if the witch has done the same thing to James, because James was undoubtedly armed when boarding Tony's jet.Tony's attention is pulled back to his own fight as a huge black jet appears. Even in the midst of battle, some part of Tony's brain has to admire the sleek design, how the wings and fins almost resemble an X-Wing. He'd almost hate to shoot the thing down.Before he can deploy his suit's missiles, a woman flies out of it without the aid of a broomstick or super powered suit. The cloth billowing behind her arms isn't enough to glide by, but she is gliding regardless. It's an even stranger sight than broomsticks, watching her soar unaided through the air as Jarvis reports sudden weather anomalies.The woman's eyes light up on her dark face as she somehow forms lightning bolts in her hands. Because of course run-of-the-mill magic wasn't enough. She shoots electric bolts at a passing witch on a broom, instead of Tony or his jet. Huh. Well, for right now, the enemy of his enemy is his friend and all that.The woman soars through the air with the same grace as Tony or the broomstick-riders, firing lightning and creating a miniature tornado that traps an enemy plane.Dang, whatever's giving her these powers almost rivals Tony's suit. Almost. His suit is still the most brilliant feat of engineering ever, whereas this woman's powers seem more... well, not natural because people don't generally fly, but Jarvis isn't detecting any gadgets besides a communicator."Sir, my control of your plane has been disabled." Jarvis sounds slightly less calm than usual as Tony's jet begins to nosedive. For a second, Tony's simply relieved it's not his suit plummeting like his first flight test, until he remembers there's a child on there, and James.Pepper is going to murder him. If these enemies succeed in killing him first, she'll bring him back to life just to kill him again.While Tony would never admit it to anyone, he seems the least equipped person here to deal with magic, which is pretty disappointing considering his suit should be unrivaled. As soon as he gets to a workshop, he's going to start upgrading it.As he rockets after the plummeting plane, he wishes he'd upgraded sooner. Sure, he has thrusters, but the plane has a lot more mass than his suit and it had a pretty significant head start.The bulletproof window in the cockpit shatters and out tumble Harry, James and the witch. James somehow manages to wrap his body around Harry while simultaneously aiming a kick at the witch's head.Tony pushes his thrusters to the max, but they're falling fast.Suddenly, they stop falling as if caught by a breeze that conveniently blows the witch in the opposite direction. They float in midair as Tony glances upwards. There's the woman with the lightning hands, except they no longer have lightning coming out of them.Tony swoops down James. "Looks like you caught a lift."He shuts off the repulsors in his palms and scoops James out of the air, bridal-style. Jarvis sounds relieved inside Tony's helmet."Not the castle." Harry says from James's arms."We're not going to a castle." Tony tries to reassure him, then does what he does best and keeps on talking. "You know, I don't even have a castle. I'm like the wealthiest guy on the planet, I've got multiple mansions, but no castles. What do you think, if I got one I could make sure there was an underground base for all my superhero stuff. Not a cave, because I'm not a brooding emo superhero, and I wouldn't really dig a dungeon either. I'm no mad scientist. I mean, if you ask Pepper...""Are we going to your house?" Harry asks."It's your house, too, but no." Tony says. "We're going someplace inconspicuous. I know, bet you didn't think I had any houses that didn't scream money, but believe it or not, I've got some places to lay low."Tony keeps flying, with Jarvis and James both watching his six. It seems Moody and the mysterious newcomers have kept the fight from following them, but there will undoubtedly be people seeking them no matter where they go.James is accustomed to being transported for various missions. He recalls riding in the back of armored vehicles surrounded by other operatives, and one instance where he was flown in a plane that was much less extravagant than Stark's.He doubts he's ever been transported this way.Saved like a damsel by a knight in flying armor, the Bucky voice sounds sardonic. In one of the cartoons James had watched with Harry, Superman had carried civilians to safety in the same way Iron Man is carrying them.Stark talks more than the entire STRIKE team, and James had heard a lot of banter from agents as he'd remained silent and motionless. He doesn't remember much about the Howling Commandos he'd reportedly been a part of, but some part twinges as he thinks about camaraderie.Wow, real touching you're comparing the Commandos to those bastards. Bucky grouses in his mind.James pushes the thought from his mind. He alternates between checking on Harry and scanning the sky, which has remained empty after Stark caught them and escaped the battle. In the plane, Harry had armed himself with the witch's weaponized stick, but he must have relinquished it during the fall that the flying woman had suspended them from.It felt different than when the enemy asset had floated James, as if there was a gust of wind lifting them up. James theorizes that the woman who'd saved them is one of the mutants that Professor X mentioned. She hadn't flown on a broom like the witches and wizards, but then again, Harry hadn't either.'You are correct, James.' The professor's voice says in his mind. 'Storm is one of the X-Men.' James files the name of the organization X-Men away for later as Bucky's voice says She looked like a helluva dame to me. 'The X-Men are not only men' Professor X debriefs. 'We are a varied group of individuals, each with our own unique powers and abilities. Rather like the Justice League Harry is fond of.'Varied could mean anything- magic, super-soldiers. The Justice League has aliens, but James is unsure if the X-Men do as well.The mission assist is appreciated. James thinks to the man in his head.A tiny finger poking him in the cheek snaps him out of his mental conversation. James feelsthe professor leave his mind.Harry squints at James, a worried frown on his face. "That witch tried'ta take your brain.""She did not succeed."They are flying over open fields where they will be easily observable for miles, but the skies remain clear.Under HYDRA's command, James would be required to report the professor's voice in his head, but Stark is not HYDRA."The mission is compromised." James's report is unnecessary.It's FUBAR. Bucky's voice supplies."I would've gone with FUBAR." Stark says, almost as if he'd read James's thoughts. James does not think Stark is capable of mind invasions, as Professor X and the enemy asset are. Stark keeps talking, obviously unaware of James's current thoughts. "Seems we can't do anything without hitting a SNAFU. People said that in your time, right, James?"The term is familiar to James, but Harry repeats it in a confused tone."It's got words I can't use around you." Stark explains. "It basically means everything's gone to shi- I mean, the pits. The dump.""We're going to a dump pit? To lay low?" Harry frowns before debriefing, unnecessarily "We're flying high now.""No, we're going to a house." Stark says. "Looks like the others are holding them off. I've got to give one of my suits a cloaking feature like Moody's cloak.""Invisibility devices would be valuable assets." James says.Harry frowns. "You're Mr. A'set. And you said I'm a a'set.""The enemy asset had a similar cloak." James reports. "Most cloaks do not appear to be designed for camouflage.""I guess most of them got normal boring cloaks." Stark agrees. "And that woman's cape had nothing on my suit, even if it let her fly.""Storm is an asset."Stark requests intel on where James got the name Storm and if he had ever worked with her. James briefs him on the X-Men, but leaves out the part about the professor invading his mind."Are they beating the bad guys?" Harry looks at James. "Are we still looking for the captain?""You might need to lay low for a bit." Stark says. He descends into a canopy of trees, where they are obscured from aerial observation, and Harry screams in delight.Stark performs seven needlessly dangerous stunts, swerving around trees and dipping under branches. James is tempted to use the prosthesis to discourage Stark from putting Harry at risk. They are close enough to the ground that James could gouge his metal fingers into a tree trunk and slow their fall, even if Stark plummets.Harry's shrieks of delight stop James from assaulting Stark. If anything, Harry is daring Stark, shouting "Do it again!" or "More!" after every dive and spin.Stark stops to hover in front of a small cottage."Don't worry," the faceplate slides up to reveal Stark's mock-placating expression. "It's got working plumbing, you won't have to crap in a hole. Uh, poop. I meant poop."Pal, Bucky says, that's not the worst thing I've had to do.James sweeps the perimeter, ignoring both Stark's and Jarvis's assurances that Jarvis is monitoring the property. There are several cameras hidden in the cabin's crevices, and Jarvis assures him there are sensors and security systems as well.When he is finished detailing the security system, Jarvis voices his sincerest apologies for his failure to protect them. APOLOGIES ARE USELESS. James wonders how Stark is going to punish a computer before reminding himself that Stark's threats to his assets are never followed through. Jarvis will simply be reprogrammed, as the Asset was.Harry quickly locates the smallest closet in the house and takes refuge inside. James joins his son in the dark, cramped space that is almost as small as the cryogenic chamber. A phantom chill spreads through his bones.Harry's elation from flying has subsided. He waits in the closet, barely moving, as if he is the Asset observing a target or waiting for orders."When I said you should lay low, I didn't mean hiding in a closet." Stark calls from outside the door. Harry makes no move to exit."Bad guys are going 'ta come," Harry's tone is a mix of childish certainty and resignation. The cottage bares some resemblance to the ski lodge they'd used as a temporary base. Perhaps Harry is having his own flashback of that incident, of agents with guns. HYDRA IS NOT IN COMMAND. "Moody is fighting them." James tells him. "You held your own on the plane." He does not want to encourage Harry putting himself in danger, but the boy had been resourceful using the weaponized stick. James feels pride flare in his chest, along with relief that the stick had not transformed him into a frog or some creature unable to protect Harry."The good wizards will beat the bad wizards," Harry pauses. "And they'll find Dumb-Bell-Door an' the enemy a'set and beat them forever. And we can play trains and heroes like Dudley."James's heart aches. Harry should have a life where he can play, unconcerned for his safety beyond scraping a knee. Even Captain America, from James's limited memories, only had to deal with scuffles with neighborhood bullies as a child, not numerous shady organizations attempting to capture him."Nobody ever 'tacked Dudley." Harry says. "Not even Ripper."James feels his stomach twist. He'd told Harry about setting the fire, but the boy still does not understand. "The Dursleys were assassinated."Harry disregards James's confession. "Nobody'll try to take your brain. Or make you a statue."Jarvis's voice is slightly muffled by the closet door. "I will employ lockdown and security measures if any hostile forces attempt to enter, but I fear the enemies will be able to break through them as they did on Mr. Stark's jet." That is more than they had at the ski lodge, but not enough. Harry needs a whole squad of fully-functional assets as protection detail.He'd need the Justice League, or Captain America and the Howling Commandos, but James is the only commando who isn't dead or buried in ice.Steve better only be buried in ice, not both. Bucky says. SEARCHING FOR STEVE IS DETRIMENTAL TO HARRY'S SAFETY. Please, Bucky scorns the first voice, we were attacked just as often on the run with Harry.James clenches his prosthesis. No matter where they go, they will be hunted. Until HYDRA is defeated, Harry will not be safe.'The X-Men may not be the Justice League,' Professor X enters James's mind, 'but I believe we can help.' X-MEN ARE VALUABLE MISSION ALLIES. 'We're almost at your location. Moody is still extraordinarily suspicious of us.' James briefly berates himself for not checking for tracking devices before realizing the Professor can probably extract their location from his mind.If the professor was an enemy, if he was HYDRA, the mission would truly be FUBAR. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Harry almost believes he's back in his cupboard. He can reach out and touch the wall, and if he leans far over, he can touch the other side without moving his feet. His dad's legs are rigid, almost like a statue's, reminding Harry that this isn't his cupboard. He hasn't felt a single spider crawl across his skin, either.His dad is silent, and Harry starts to worry that he really has been frozen again until, suddenly, he says "The X-Men are coming. They are allies. Good guys.""They winned." Harry adds, but he still clings tight to his dad's leg. From outside the door, he hears Mr. Stark talking, and then Moody's growling voice, but he can't hear what they're saying. Harry holds his breath as footsteps approach, until Mr. Stark's voice is right on the other side of the door. "James? You're vouching for these X-Men?""They are allies."The closet door swings open, and Harry squints in the bright light."Can't watch for enemies in a closet unless you've got an eye like mine." Moody scowls at James while the magic eye rolls around like the eyes on craft projects Dudley brought home from nursery school."Or a video surveillance system." Mr. Stark says. "Which I have, thank you very much."Harry points at the wizard. "The en'my a'set disappeared, like you." How could his Batdad watch for them if he couldn't see them?"I need to take a look at that cloak." Mr. Stark grins, but Moody just glares at him. "What does it do, some sort of retro-reflection spell, like some weird mojo version of Helicarrier panels? Jarvis, what do your scans tell you?"Mr. Stark's brows lower when Jarvis doesn't answer. Harry waits for Mr. Stark to blame him, but he turns toward Moody instead."Protective enchantments might have messed with your muggle tech." Moody doesn't sound very sorry."Take them down." Stark orders."They're keeping Potter safe.""That's what you're for!" Mr. Stark throws his hands out. "You can't just cancel all my security measures and expect me to be okay with it. Now undo whatever spells are blocking Jarvis."With an even bigger scowl, Moody waves his wand."I'm back, sir." Jarvis says. "Shall I let the X-Men in?" A screen pops up, showing several people who look like another Justice League. Harry squints, looking for Captain America, like Jarvis showed him earlier, but he doesn't see him anywhere. The woman with white hair who made them float is here. Is that the storm lady his dad was telling Mr. Stark about?Moody grumbles something, but Mr. Stark nods.When the X-Men enter the cabin, Harry doesn't hide behind his dad's legs, but stands next to him."Are you hurt?" Storm bends down to look Harry in the eye."Did you win?" Harry looks at Storm, then Moody."We won that fight." Moody grunts. "Won't be the last."Harry wants to say it will be, but every time his dad beats bad guys, more keep coming for them. "We have to beat all the bad guys. My dad beat a giant, and his dog. He could beat Dumb-Bell-Door if he didn't get freezed.""The assist is appreciated." Mr. A'set speaks over Harry. "You saved us. Did you save any hostiles for interrogation?"His metal arm whirs, ready to fight.Harry tugs his dad's skin hand to ask what that word means, when a deep, growling voice like Moody's says "That's not necessary when we've got Chuck. Not that I mind whipping out my claws and doin' it myself, but Chuck prefers his way."The man speaking is shorter than Mr. Stark, with hairy arms and a hood like Batman's, only part of it is yellow. He doesn't have a cape over his yellow and blue costume, but Harry can tell he's a superhero."Who were they working for?" Harry's Batdad asks. "HYDRA? The Dark Lord?""Probably at least one HYDRA mole in SHIELD who found out Agent and his secret agent assistant visited me." Mr. Stark mutters something about how they were supposed to track down HYDRA, but conveniently missed a huge wizard battle.Mr. Stark turns to the yellow-Batman guy and asks who he is. "I didn't see you fighting.""You dipped out early, bub. Flew off before I started slashing planes. You got any beer?""I usually go for something a bit higher end." Mr. Stark waves a hand at the glass bottles on one shelf, then rummages through a pantry and tosses a can to the man. The man pops the lid and tilts it back.Harry's Batdad is looking at the man like he's one of those hidden picture books Harry found once when cleaning Dudley's second bedroom. Dudley had torn it up as soon as he saw Harry looking."Got a problem?" the man growls at Harry's dad."You're Logan." Harry's dad still has that same look, and Logan scowls. Harry watches his hands, even though Logan isn't turning purple like Uncle Vernon."How do you know these guys, James?" Mr. Stark asks Harry's dad before Logan can answer. "You guys fight together before? Or did you have to fight them?" Harry knows who would win in a fight- his dad is a lot taller, and just as muscular, and he has his metal arm. Harry doesn't even see any gadgets on Logan's belt.Logan takes another sip. "You got a voice in your head?"Mr. Stark is still talking over Logan. "Are there huge battles between wizards and nobody notices? Seriously, how does nobody notice? Most of you didn't have those cloaks, you were totally visible, and even Fury couldn't hide freaking wizards from the world." He gestures to the X-Men. "James said you're mutants.""We keep ourselves hidden." Moody mutters. "We'd be better hidden now with those enchantments.""You know, we weren't actually attacked until you showed up." Mr. Stark points at Moody."We have to fly again," Harry tells Mr. Stark. "So they can't find us.""Jarvis, did he hit his head?" Mr. Stark glances at the ceiling before going back to looking at Harry like he's sick. "You do remember what just happened on my jet, don't you, kiddo?""You fly faster.""I actually didn't. That would've ended badly for you. And me, once Pepper found out. Don't tell her about the stunts, okay?""We have to fly faster." Harry squeezes his dad's hand. His chest is thumping hard as he shifts from foot to foot. "Gun guys will find us here. We haf'ta go." Harry doesn't see any guns on the X-Men, but his dad said they're good guys.Storm holds up her hands. "Professor X is making sure nobody will find this cabin. He's still at the school."Harry asks why Professor X didn't make sure nobody found the plane. Mr. Stark bursts out laughing, and looks at Harry with pride, the way Uncle Vernon looked at Dudley. Harry smiles even though he's not sure what's funny."I'm guessing this Chuck guy and Professor X are one and the same?" Mr. Stark doesn't even stop for anyone to answer. "And he's got, what, telepathic powers? I'm kind of hoping not, because that's terrifying, but, hey, what's one more thing on my plate?"Moody grunts a long word that starts with Legil. "So, is this just a reading people's thoughts situation, or can he actually go and put thoughts in people's heads?" Mr. Stark pauses and looks over at Harry's Batdad. "Did he go in your head to tell you about X-Men?"Harry's dad doesn't nod, but says. "Affirmative.""And you didn't think to mention that some guy was messing with-" Mr. Stark's mouth closes, opens, and he mutters one of those grownup words before saying "Sorry. Hey, can he find a certain national icon frozen in suspended animation? Was James too far away to find before?"Harry stops listening to Mr. Stark, too busy thinking about the man in his dad's head. He stands on his toes to whisper "Did he try to take your brain?""He offered to help fix it."Harry doesn't see anything broken on his dad's head.Mr. Stark glances between Harry and his Batdad. "You said something about wizards doing that, right? Taking people's brains? They didn't, you know, offer magic therapy or whatever?"Harry tightens his hold on his dad. He hasn't seen the old man or the enemy asset since the castle, but they're probably chasing them, too. Harry glances at the X-Men. "Can you tell P'fessor X to take Dumb-Bell-Door's brain?""Dumbledore's not an enemy." Moody growls."Is so! And the en'my a'set." Harry crosses his arms. "My dad's goin' ta beat them forever. And Hydra."His Batdad's face is stony. "I need backup.""That's where we come in," Logan clenches a fist and three long, metal claws slide out of his gloved hand. He stabs one through his empty can before tearing the can back off and crumpling it. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Tony's never been a team player, yet here he is, teaming up with a band of mutants, totally disproving Romanoff's report.He's got to say, he's a lot more on-board with the idea of mutants than magic. It's much more scientific; this doesn't seem all that different from super-soldier serum, or that incident with gamma rays that turned Dr. Bruce Banner into an enormous green rage monster a few years ago.Both Moody and Logan scowl impatiently as Tony brings up the Hulk, even though Tony's not rambling, thank you very much. So what if he goes on a spiel about how awesome it would be to meet Dr. Banner- the guy could help them out."If we can get him fighting HYDRA..." Tony grins at the thought, though all the files stated he was uncontrollable."We've got a beast already." Logan growls."Who, you?" Tony arches a brow. He keeps meeting people with murderous vibes these days."Hank's huge, blue and hairy," Logan starts, which sounds promising until he adds "Won't fight unless he has to. Got too much of a head for poetry and philosophy."Across the cabin's living room, James is standing rigidly, blank-faced. "The search target has changed to Dr. Banner.""No, we're still looking for Cap." Tony assures him, and he swears the man's flesh shoulder loosens the tiniest bit. The metal one is unmoving."He can protect Harry.""That's what we're all here for." Tony says.Storm stands, announcing that they need to get back to the school, and that she has a class to teach."You'll be safer with us," she tells them, leaving Tony somewhat affronted. He is a super hero after all, and all his properties have top-notch security. Then again, so did his jet, which just crashed harder than Cap's plane did back in 1945."At school?" Harry asks, both awestruck and all too eager to leave the cabin."It ain't kindergarten, kid." Logan says. Harry stares blankly until Tony says that's like Primary School."Dudley's in nursery school." Harry seems delighted to be a level higher than his cousin."You'd be safer at Hogwarts." Moody scowls.Tony snorts. "Was Cowblisters taken already?"Moody shoots a scathing look at him and explains that Hogwarts is a school for people like Harry, that his parents went there and his name's been down since before he was born.Harry's eyes get wider, his expression slightly hopeful as he looks at James. "You went there?""Hogwarts is the castle." James states, at the same time Moody clarifies he meant Harry's real dad."No!" Harry yells, before addressing Moody as if he's an even younger child who knows nothing about the world, "Castles aren't schools, and he's my dad.""Dumbledore thought he was dangerous." Moody tells Harry gruffly, as Harry plants himself in front of James with his fists on his hips. The boy's diminutive form does absolutely nothing to shield his guardian, but the determined look on his face speaks volumes. "He was... mistaken before."Harry points at the X-Men. "They're not mistaken!""So Dumbledore wouldn't try to erase James' memories now?" Tony demands, crossing his arms.There's a telling silence before Moody says something about "protocols for muggles." and some sort of statute of secrecy.Well, the implications of that are terrifying. Was Moody planning on wiping Tony's memories, too? Tony knows about magic, after all. Tony's mind is racing, wondering if he can build some sort of defense against mind wipes.Then again, couldn't this Professor X do the exact same thing? Tony glances at James, who hadn't seemed overly concerned about the professor's voice apparently being in his head.If Professor X was going to wipe James, wouldn't he have done so already? Why would the X-Men have come here if all their memories of them could have been wiped?"Can we go?" Harry almost begs James, tugging his hand.Tony's got to admit, he's intrigued about mutant school. He hadn't passed up the chance to look at James' cybernetic arm when he and Harry broke in through his window, and he's not going to let this chance slip by, either.Besides, the X-Men presumably have experience taking kids with unusual powers under their wings. Not that Tony's going to ditch Harry there or anything.James nods at Harry, who cheers."You know, most kids hate being shipped to school." Tony tells Harry as they head out the door. He wasn't too fond of this cabin anyway, and there's no way he's leaving the kid with strangers, no matter how well-intentioned they seem.It's clear Harry doesn't have any plans on leaving Tony, either. He refuses to get on the so-called X-Jet, asking Tony to fly them as Iron Man instead. Tony's on the receiving end of a highly disappointed look from a preschooler when he refuses.Tony decides not to bring up that carrying them would be a disaster if they get attacked again. James looks tense enough as he enters the jet and sits in one of the seats. Harry's jaw is similarly set, his green eyes shoot another frustrated look at Tony.Tony, as always, fills the silence as Storm pilots them over dark clouds that Tony's pretty sure she summoned to obscure their jet from view.Tony's phone vibrates. Jarvis has pulled up a file from SHIELD's servers about a similar incident that occurred at the time Tony was almost dying from Palladium poisoning and being attacked by Vanko. The file isn't about Storm, but about some kind of space viking who may or may not have been the subject of myths fighting a hulking, futuristic robot. Reports indicate he has the ability to control lightning."Is he a mutant too?" Tony turns his phone towards Logan.Logan is about as talkative as Moody or James. After rambling about the hammer apparently only this guy could lift, Tony fires off some questions about Logan's claws, but stops after the second.Logan probably didn't choose to have them any more than Tony chose to have his arc reactor, and having claws emerge from your knuckles probably hurts about as much as having a car battery hooked up to your chest.The only thing Tony gets out of Logan is about his claws is that they could slice through his 'tin can of a suit.'Harry rises to the challenge. "You can't slice my dad's arm."Logan turns toward the boy, who asks, quieter "Do your uncle an' aunt say you're a freak?""Most people would, if they knew about us." Logan's voice isn't quite as gruff, but Tony wouldn't say it's gentle, either. "Chuck thinks otherwise."The clouds break apart as they descend towards a stately mansion, much like the one Tony grew up in. When Tony consults Jarvis on his phone, he learns they're in Westchester County."Couldn't afford a runway?" Tony quips when it appears they're going to touch down on a basketball court, which several teenagers vacate upon seeing the jet.The court slides open to reveal an underground hanger, and Tony whistles. Harry's squirming to exit before they even land."The whole room's like your arm." Harry points at the chrome walls, then the suits lining the wall in glass cases. "Is this the X-Cave?"Considering their plane is called an X-Jet, Tony would bet they're as bad as Batman when it comes to naming things. There's even a huge X on the circular door, which leads to several silver hallways."This is better than a Batcave." Tony remarks, and, surprisingly. Harry doesn't argue, too focused on James, who is staring at the elevator door as if he'll be locked inside. He still enters, but begins to shiver as the door slides closed."We're just going up." Harry tells his dad.The elevator opens to reveal the ground level of the mansion is tastefully decorated and antique, a far cry from the levels underneath.A few kids pass them in the hall. Tony is, of course, used to being recognized, but he notices that, while the kids glance curiously at the others, their gazes don't linger on James' arm or Harry's lightning bolt scar.Storm leads them to an office where a bald man dressed in a crisp suit is seated behind the desk."Mr. Stark, James, Harry. I'm Charles Xavier, also known as Professor X. It's a pleasure to meet you in person." He moves around the desk, and Tony notes that even the wheels of his wheelchair have spokes in the shape of an X."Do you get called by an X-signal?" Tony smirks."Do bad guys come here?" Harry asks. "With guns and wep-nized sticks?""Occasionally," Professor X says. "But many of us have ways of stopping attackers. You're safe here."They lay low at the school for a few days without incident, unless you count Tony having to explain everything to Pepper.Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters is vastly superior than the cabin, even if it's full of kids. It has a garage full of cars for Tony to tinker with, though some guy wearing visor-goggles promises to blast Tony with what must be laser eyes if Tony touches his stuff.To Tony's surprise, Logan doesn't threaten Harry when the kid inspects his motorcycle, nor does he seem as annoyed at the boy's questions about whether it flies like in his dreams.They get kicked out of the garage entirely when a class starts, even though Tony knows more about auto mechanics than anyone else in the school.Harry is far less scandalized about being pushed away, instead asking if they can make the "moto-bike" fly later.Even after a few days, he seems more comfortable with people casually using powers around him. One kid runs through walls, and there's a huge metal Russian guy, which leads to Harry asking if he can turn parts of himself metal to be like James, or grow claws.Both of them tell Harry that he wouldn't want those.Another time, Tony overhears Harry asking a woman if she's Matilda as she moves objects with telekinesis, despite the fact she's a gorgeous redhead instead of a tiny black-haired girl. The woman says her name is Jean Grey, and Logan tells Tony to back off before he even does anything.Tony thought Cyclops, the laser-eye guy, was touchy about his cars, but that's nothing compared to when he sees Tony even looking at Jean.Tony backs off, not because of any intimidation, but because he doesn't want to turn some weird love triangle into a square. Besides, he's never been one for relationships, and with everything going on he really doesn't have the time to get involved in that mess, too.Still, it's slightly unfair that James isn't threatened when he approaches Jean about teaching Harry to levitate objects and create force fields. Sure, Tony has a reputation, but he's pretty sure Bucky Barnes was a ladies' man back in the day. Some of the older kids teach Harry how to play basketball. He becomes a regular on the court, even if some of the older kids don't go easy on him. Tony hadn't realized how competitive Harry could get at sports.Still, Harry readily abandons the game whenever James leaves.Tony's not sure what happens when James visits Professor Xavier's office, but Harry stands outside for the entire hour. James exits, not seeming all too different from before. Clearly, even telepaths can't heal over six decades of trauma instantly.Tony follows James and Harry back to the basketball court, overhearing James tell his son that Steve was always picked last for games, that they snuck into stadiums to see ballgames. Tony had never really thought about whether the famous Cap and Bucky were more into basketball or baseball, but now he has his answer.Despite the setback, the plan to find Cap picks up speed. Tony can't believe he's listening to Moody about the owl thing, but the wizard claims they can deliver letters to people even if the recipient's location is unknown.Tony attaches a tracker to the envelope, and after giving the owl a head start, flies after it, along with several X-Men in the X-Jet.They aren't accosted on this flight, and the Arctic Ocean is similarly undisturbed. The owl is perched on an otherwise unremarkable part of the ice. Apparently it managed to accomplish what Howard Stark failed for years. Tony smiles grimly. He doubts Howard would have paid any more attention to him even if he had known this trick.The lasers on Tony's suit, along with Jean's telekinesis, make excavating the plane from the ice much less annoying than it could have been. As soon as Tony cuts a hole in the hull, the owl hoots and flies in. Tony hovers down next to it, following as through the abandoned frozen plane.A ting echoes through the plane when the owl's beak nips at an iconic red, white and blue shield. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Steve drifts into consciousness slowly, like a drowning man being pulled to the surface.There's a soft bed under him with silky sheets, and the air lacks the distinct smell of a hospital or medical tent.Opening his eyes, Steve finds himself in an ornate bedroom, large enough to house his entire apartment back in Brooklyn.He furrows his brow. Where is he? Not Brooklyn, certainly. He hears no traffic or pedestrians besides the footsteps running down what must be a hallway beyond the door. The unmistakable shouts of children playing drifts through a window.The last thing he remembers is sending the plane down, Peggy telling him not to. Millions of people were going to die if he hadn't.Did he save them? Did someone save him? Steve sits up, swings his legs off the bed, and pads across the ornate rug to the window. The sprawling expanse of lawn confirms his suspicions that, wherever he is, it's not Brooklyn. The children throwing a ball around the court below him are all dressed in strange clothing- rather than jackets and buttoned, collared shirts, the boys are wearing shirts with pictures printed on them, blue denim pants or colorful short pants, and shoes unlike any Steve's seen. None of the girls are wearing dresses.Steve himself is dressed in a cotton shirt and soft pants. His uniform and shield are nowhere to be seen.He frowns. This can't be the States, but he hears some New York accents in the playful taunts.Steve crosses the room again and pulls the dark, mahogany door open. The hallway is just as extravagant as the bedroom, lined with wood paneling and oil paintings. The artist in Steve longs to stop and admire the paintings, but common sense rules he shouldn't.Steve is alone in the hallway, but a radio broadcast of a sports game flows from an adjacent hall. Just like the clothes on the children outside, something isn't right. The cheers don't sound at all crackly or tinny. and even the way the announcer talks isn't anything like Steve's used to hearing.Then, a high, childish voice with a British accent remarks that watching hockey on the telly is better than watching baseball. Even fighting all over Europe, Steve never heard anyone call a stadium a telly.Steve was never a big fan of hockey, and hasn't followed it since the Amerks left Brooklyn due to the war. He quells the urge to defend America's favorite pastime as he rounds the corner.A man and boy are walking down the hall, away from him. The boy looks to be under four, as small and skinny as Steve was as a child, with an unruly mess of black hair on his head. He's holding tight to the man's left arm, which looks to be entirely metal.The man has the build, posture and precise movements of a soldier, but no military Steve knows of- Allies or Axis- allows soldiers to have hair falling to their chins. He must be a veteran, one of the many soldiers to lose a limb in service, but the prosthesis is unlike any Steve's seen.The man and boy turn a corner, the boy's voice slowly fading as they venture farther away.Steve frowns, feeling like he has a puzzle that's missing pieces. He wonders if this is one of the locations children were evacuated to from London, but that doesn't explain the New York accents he'd heard outside.Moving down the hall, Steve stops suddenly at the sight of a familiar face through a doorway."Howlett."The short, burly man looks like he hasn't aged a day from when Steve last saw him on the battlefield. Howlett's dressed in a sleeveless shirt, a beer bottle held loosely in one hand. His legs, covered in the same denim pants Steve saw on the children, are kicked up on a low table.Howlett is staring at the wall where the radio must be, though the doorway hides it from Steve's sight. He glances Steve's way before his eyes go back to the wall. "Looks like I ain't the only one back from the dead.""Did we win?" Steve asks. He'd defeated Schmidt, but the war wasn't over. "New York, is it-""We're in Westchester." Howlett doesn't even glance away from the radio this time. "War's been over for a while, bub."Steve enters the room, and his mouth drops open to marvel at what's in front of him. Every color in the moving picture is brighter than Dorothy's ruby slippers or the yellow brick road. The image, which switches from an aerial view of an ice-hockey rink to an up-close shot of a player, is crisp, devoid of scratches or spots. The movie seems to be emanating from the flat glass screen rather than projected onto a blank canvas."Did you fish me from the ocean?" Steve asks, mind reeling. He must've been there for some time, for this technology to be invented, but that doesn't add up either, because the serum doesn't prevent him from drowning."Stark did." Howlett grunts, clearly annoyed that Steve's interrupting the game onscreen. Steve wasn't aware Howlett and Stark even knew about each other, aside from Steve mentioning Stark once on the field."Chuck hasn't filled you in?" Howlett growls.Steve has no idea who Chuck is, but he's not surprised Howard searched for him after he went MIA. Though really, Howard should have known Steve would be dead upon impact.Except, clearly, Steve's alive.Steve stares at the fancy screen for several minutes without really seeing it. Hadn't Howlett just said he'd been resurrected?Howlett sips his beer, silently watching the game."The commandos, are they-" Steve stops, no longer hearing the cheers, the announcer, the scrape of skates on on ice. He's clinging to the train in the alps, hand outstretched, his shout of "Bucky, No!" doing nothing to stop Bucky from falling. Wind rushes in his ears until Steve slowly starts seeing the room around him again. The strange screen, Howlett on the couch, his eyes now on Steve."Nobody's told you anything?" Howlett raises a brow, before grumbling that just because he occasionally teaches history doesn't make it his job to catch Steve up."Catch me up on what?" Steve demands, not even thinking about Howlett being a teacher. It has to be something about the war, but Howlett said it was over.The man takes a drink from his bottle, eyes back on the screen. Sensing he won't get anything more out of Howlett during the game, Steve turns to leave.Back in the hallway, he overhears voices coming from the direction of the room he just left."He was asleep five minutes ago." exclaims a vaguely familiar male voice.Steve hears the British boy say "Maybe he died."The halls must form a loop, since Steve didn't see the man or boy walk past the room Howlett was in."He didn't." the man says quickly. "But figures he'd wake up the minute nobody's watching. Isn't Professor X supposed to sense this kind of thing?"Steve bursts into the doorway and sees Howard Stark holding the shield he'd made, standing around the empty bed with the boy and the soldier Steve had seen just a few minutes ago."Howard," Steve says. "Howlett says I was dead.""Not dead," Stark says, turning around, and it's definitely not Howard, even if there's some resemblance. Did he have a brother he never mentioned? "You were frozen."The boy glances at the soldier, but Steve doesn't hear the boy's question. His breath feels like it's been punched out of him when the soldier turns around.Even with long hair, Steve would recognize that face anywhere. He thought he'd never see it again, except during nightmares where he reaches out and fails to catch him yet again. Even worse are the dreams where he does catch Bucky, only to wake up after pulling him to safety.Bucky's gray-blue eyes are even more haunted than when Steve found him strapped to a table in the HYDRA camp."Bucky." Steve hugs him, thumping his back twice. It's not returned. Bucky doesn't move an inch, standing as if at attention."I thought you were dead." Steve breathes. He doesn't even hear what not-Howard or the boy are saying, barely registers their presence. He almost expects Bucky to repeat that he thought Steve was smaller. Even after being tortured, he'd carried on a conversation, but now his silence stretches into an eternity.Steve's elation is starting to sink into a feeling of dread. Something is off, and it's not just the clothes, the futuristic screen or the man who looks like Howard.Something is off about Bucky.After another eternity, Bucky says one word."Steve." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- When Steve surges forward, instinct screams at James to defend himself from an attacker, but even the other voice says STEVE IS AN ALLY.Steve is a Captain, outranking James. James stands at attention. He has memories of fighting with Steve, of serving under the captain's leadership.Steve's arms envelop James in a hug, thumping his back. James hears Bucky's voice say, fondly you're a punk. Not the words a soldier would ever say to a commanding officer. Evidently, Bucky had. James frowns. He'd known Steve before they were soldiers, as evidenced by the memories of Steve as a small, sickly child with a spirit that was anything but frail. That had been one of his first visions on the night he'd taken Harry from Number 4, Privet Drive.James has a quick flash of Steve returning punk with jerk.The real Steve does not call James a jerk, does not release him from the embrace that James has not returned, despite the Bucky voice's commands to do so."I thought you were dead." Steve breathes close to James's ear."Everyone thought the same about you." Stark smirks down at Harry. "Especially him."Steve gives no indication that he's heard.James knows all too well that being frozen is nonlethal, though he had no intel that Steve was frozen until recently. Had HYDRA known? If they'd found him..."Steve." James says.Steve releases James from the hug, but holds his shoulders, brow creased with concern as he frowns at the prosthetic shoulder."Bucky, what happened? The train-"Steve stops. He appears to be experiencing his own flashback. When it ends, his voice is tight. "You survived. Buck, if I'd known...""So did you," Stark says, once again ignored by Steve. Stark throws up his hands."Howlett said the war's been over for a while... how long?""My dad's James." Harry tugs on James's pant leg until James picks him up. From his vantage point in James's prosthetic arm, Harry stares at Steve with a challenge in his green eyes, as if daring Steve to hug James again. Steve's blue eyes are a combination of bewilderment and pain."Your dad?" Steve echoes, glancing between James and Harry, as if trying to find a resemblance. "Did you- it wasn't you and Peggy, was it?"Steve sounds hurt now, almost betrayed. Something in James twinges.Really, Rogers? Carter ain't the only British woman in the world. Bucky scoffs, sounding suspiciously hurt as well."Where'd he come from?" Steve frowns at Harry. James shifts his son closer to his chest."You see, when a mommy and daddy love each other very much-" Stark starts in a slightly mocking voice, then glances at Harry and stops.Steve's face becomes increasingly strained as James reports. After 14.3 seconds, Steve orders James to stop the mission report, and James complies.STEVE IS A CAPTAIN, repeats the voice, starting an argument in James's head over whether Steve is now a handler.A third voice enters the debate- Professor X. 'Neither you nor Captain Rogers are currently enlisted. He has no authority over you.'He always did, Bucky replies. I was followin' that punk from Brooklyn a decade before the war.James continues to stand at attention, but keeps Harry in his arms.James is unsure as to how Steve will react when he learns that his former friend had become the Fist of HYDRA for decades, had been an assassin for the Soviets.Steve will most likely decommission him, or ensure Sergeant Barnes is court-martialed and imprisoned for treason. James will not be able to take care of Harry in prison.Harry will be better off with Steve. James starts to pass his son over, despite not being ordered to. Harry refuses to let go, trying to launch himself further into James's arms by planting a foot in Steve's stomach and pushing off. "He's not my dad!"Stark is yelling "Whoa, hang on a sec here," Steve's shouting questions and Harry has begun to scream wordlessly.The decibels rise until Logan appears in the doorway, growling that he can't hear his damn game. The man steps aside for Professor X to enter.The professor quiets the room without saying a word or making any sort of nonverbal threat. "I'm terribly sorry for my absence prior to now. Captain Rogers, James, would you care to join me for tea? There is much we need to discuss."Tony's left to deal with an irate preschooler, but Pepper would probably say it's karma for all Tony's made her put up with."Mr. Rogers is stinky." Harry's voice is hard. "And dumb."Tony snorts and gets a very unamused look in return. Harry seems to be digging for worse words to call Steve, and Tony wonders how kids live without swearing. Finally, Harry exclaims "He's FUBAR in the pits!"Tony can't help the burst of laughter that escapes, though it dies quickly when Harry continues with "He's not my dad. Why'd Dad-"Tony's heart clenches, knowing all too well what it's like to have a parent focus on Captain America. Tony hadn't missed how James seemed to have considered leaving back at his mansion.Granted, James has a lot of history with Steve- history that James doesn't remember most of, clearly, but it's there. Everyone knows about the inseparable duo of Cap and Bucky- the more classic "brothers in all but blood" view to the controversial theory that they were secretly lovers, which had caused even more of an uproar in some circles than when the paparazzi caught Tony with another man.Tony's kind of glad Howard wasn't around for that, and he doesn't appreciate that Steve mistook him for Howard. Tony can sort of get why he'd though that, but still- ouch. And he definitely isn't thinking about how disappointed Steve must be that it's him and not Howard.Shoving that thought away, Tony crouches down to Harry's level. "I'll make sure he won't pull a Howard. But hey, he hugs you and not Steve, right?"Harry nods miserably. Tony promises that he'll make sure to remind James that Harry's his top priority, then decides that's enough about feelings, either Harry's or his own. Besides, he's pretty sure Pepper would tell him not to promote a competition between Harry and Steve, so he already screwed that up.Tony tries to distract Harry in the garage, showing him the parts of a motorcycle that isn't Logan's. Tony assures Harry that he could make a flying motorcycle, then has to deal with Harry's disappointment when the results aren't instantaneous. Or maybe that's carryover from his stress about James.Moody clomps in and lifts the bike with a flick of his wand, which doesn't help Tony's explanation that engineering takes time. Stupid magic.Harry smiles for the first time in two hours and begs to sit on it. Moody lowers the bike and waits for Harry to clamber on before levitating it again, growling a warning for the boy to be vigilant. Harry beams, pretending to steer and making engine noises with his mouth.When James silently enters the room, Harry's frown returns. He folds his arms, scowling down at James from his vantage point. "Steve's not my dad. You are.""I am." James answers.At those words, Harry scrambles off the bike while it's still hovering, and James moves with superhuman speed to catch Harry in his flesh arm."You said 'til the end of the line." Harry says.Tony catches a glimpse of Steve in the doorway, noting that he somehow looks like a kicked puppy. Harry wraps his arms around James's neck, while James gives Tony and Moody a look that promises a drawn-out disembowelment if they let Harry ride a floating motorcycle again.Tony raises his hands to show his innocence in the matter. James turns wordlessly and stalks away.Thawing Steve has made everything more complicated, not easier. James's previous handlers surely would have recalibrated him for this lack of judgement.Steve alternates between anger-fueled righteousness as he promises to rain judgement down on every last HYDRA base, expressing shock that HYDRA is still active, and giving James deep, pitying looks.What a hypocrite, Bucky grouses, as James is regaled with memories- Small, skinny Steve glaring in bed, muttering "I ain't made of glass, Buck,"Steve even tries to join James and Harry in their room at night. James can't object, but Harry does, and Steve reluctantly takes a room down the hall.At 0056, James takes Harry down to the kitchen for hot chocolate. Logan, sitting in the dark with a cigar and beer, barely acknowledges their presence or preparations until Harry pushes a mug of hot chocolate at him."Not really my kind of drink, kid." Logan mutters, but he takes his cigar out to take a sip, grimacing at the sweetness."Did you have bad dreams?" Harry asks him. "We did."James had awoken, muttering in Russian until, slowly, Harry's voice made him aware of his surroundings.They sit in silence, though if Stark joins them as he had last night, that will certainly change.Footsteps approach, but they are not Stark's."Couldn't sleep, Bucky?" Steve's hair is rumpled, his tight shirt and loose pants provide inadequate protection."I am functional." James reports. Steve's face twists, and James waits for his captain to start apologizing profusely, repeatedly, as he had in Professor X's office upon learning James survived the fall from the train. The Professor had used phrases such as survivor's guilt and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, which is a new code for Shell-Shock. Difficulty sleeping, the professor said, was to be expected. He'd mentioned he could make them sleep, but reliance on telepathic sleeping aids was hardly a long-term solution.Steve had been adament that he was James's friend, not his Captain.Steve sits at the table, glancing at their mugs. Harry does not offer to make him hot chocolate, instead scooting closer to James.Steve starts to debrief a mission that he, Bucky and Logan had completed together, specifically one time they'd made coffee out of acorns.No flashes enter James's mind during the debrief, James remembers nothing of the mission or working with Logan, but commits it to memory and will add it to the journal that Professor X gave him.Harry frowns through the debrief and then, as if trying to outperform Steve, says "My dad jumped off a train with me."Steve's body tenses, his eyes suddenly unfocused.James waits silently for another round of apologies, but Steve shakes his head and asks James if he remembers Coney Island, how they thought the Cyclone would fall to pieces."You forget it's been seven decades?" Logan asks.Steve's face falters before he returns the scowl. "I just woke up.""I've been up the whole time, bub.""You haven't aged." Steve's eyes narrow slightly in thought. "I can't believe Howard had a kid. Tony.""Mr. Stark's not a kid." says Harry, looking confused."And that he's Howard's age.""Howard Stark is deceased." James reminds Steve, who looks down at his hands on the table.When Stark staggers in to refill a coffee mug, Steve stands and extends a hand."Tony," Steve says, shaking Stark's hand firmly. "I heard all you've done for Bucky, and for that, I really can't thank you enough."Stark blinks, seeming incapable of forming a sentence, then waves it away and begins a rapid-fire spiel about Dr. McCoy and his research and how Stark, Dr. McCoy, and Dr. Banner should form a scientist superhero team.Steve continues to stick close to James's side throughout the day, to Harry's obvious annoyance.While the other students are in class, James has been teaching Harry basic reading, writing and arithmetic. Harry is not the most attentive student, eyes straying toward the basketball court.James does not want to think about how HYDRA would have ensured Harry's concentration and punished any lapses. He knows that HYDRA would not let James take the punishments for Harry, and the thought of Harry going through that makes the voice scream PROTECT.James takes Harry out to the court and has him count the number of times he dribbles the ball. Throughout the lesson, Steve keeps interrupting, frequently addressing James as if he's Bucky, as if James had spent no time as the Winter Soldier. Several times, James notes Steve looking at him with a haunted, guilty look, the same look he'd had when he learned HYDRA was still active.Steve doesn't get quite as worked up when Stark tells him the Dodgers moved from Brooklyn to Los Angeles in 1957, but he's not happy about it. James tries to remember if he was awake in that year, though he doubts he would have cared about that information then.Technology allows them to watch or listen to old games. That evening, Stark has JARVIS compile the highlights of baseball history on his phone and projects it onto the wall. James sits next to Steve on the couch, writing in a new notebook.Harry frowns at the screen. "Can we watch hockey?"Steve opens his mouth, and shuts it. He's still clearly unsure of how to act around Harry, and James remembers Steve saying he'd never liked when people handed their kids over for pictures.Harry goes back to drawing more disproportionate shapes and people. James forces himself to smile when Harry holds it up proudly."What is it?" Steve asks."Quidditch!"Moody had told Harry about the magical sport, which involves reckless flying on brooms and balls called Bludgers, enchanted with the sole purpose of ramming into players. At least baseballs and hockey pucks aren't sentient. Quidditch sounds worse than Stark's flying, but Harry is enamored.Harry returns to drawing, explaining that his new scribbles are a team of people on flying motorbikes and hockey sticks. Steve watches Harry work, and quietly remarks "He looks a lot like me at that age."Harry's face scrunches, but he doesn't look up from his paper. "No. You have yellow hair like Dudley and no scar."Steve sighs and grabs his own sheet of paper. He sweeps the pencil across, creating a detailed image of James on a flying motorcycle. Harry inches closer and closer to observe, until his nose is practically touching the paper as he asks Steve to draw hoops.Harry admires the drawing, then grabs one of his previous ones- three, dark-haired stick figures representing himself, James and Tony. Steve waits with a clearly hopeful expression as Harry grabs a yellow crayon, holding it over the happy people.Harry draws Steve- on the back of the page, fighting off a hoard of faceless stick figures. He shows the picture and asks "Are you going to fight HYDRA?"Steve's face becomes grim again, and James does not find Steve anywhere when he reconnoiters the mansion at night. Logan's bike is also missing. Upon receiving this intel, Logan promises that any scratches on his bike will be replicated on Steve's body. The shorter man is unintimidated by James and growls right back.Professor X disappears into the basement and somehow locates Steve and learns he's raiding a HYDRA base in New Jersey.Of course it's Jersey. Bucky scoffs, but he urges James to go. The punk needs someone to watch his back.The voices in James's head almost tear him in two, worse than when Steve was in the ice.STEVE DID NOT ORDER US TO ACCOMPANY HIM ON THE MISSION, the other voice says, though memories of helping Steve in alley fights reveal that Bucky had often engaged in combat without Steve's orders."Look," Stark tells James. "Steve didn't even tell you he was going, and he's single-handedly stormed bases before. You need to stay here with Harry, because I am not qualified to look after a kid."James nods stiffly, and tells Harry it's time for reading. They skip the picture book about a bear hibernating. Harry flips half-heartedly through a Captain America comic that one student had lent him."Where are you?" he asks, looking at a cartoon drawing of Captain America with a kid sidekick greatly resembling Robin.The Bucky voice is dismayed at what they made him in the comics, and Harry is unhappy about not seeing James in the comic at all. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Harry's happy that Steve's gone, but his dad hasn't stopped frowning and looking towards the road.Harry tries to make his dad feel better by saying "Steve's probably not dead," but his dad's face doesn't change."The punk will get himself killed one day. Especially with no one to watch his back.""I'll go," Mr. Stark claps Harry's dad on his metal shoulder, winces and then disappears into the school. He clomps out as Iron Man and hovers in the air."Can I go?" asks Harry, longing to fly again."No," his dad answers right away."Then you can't either." Harry grabs his dad's hand and tugs him back toward the court.After Iron Man rockets away, Harry refuses to let go of his dad. He shrieks as his dad swings him up onto his skin shoulder, holding him almost high enough to dunk a basketball.When Harry throws the ball from the ground, it doesn't even get close to the hoop.Harry can't wait until he's grown like the big kids. If Harry was bigger, maybe Dudley wouldn't have hit him all the time. Harry smiles at the thought, but realizes he'd never be bigger than Uncle Vernon."Size ain't everything." Mr. Logan says after hearing Harry's wish to be bigger. Mr. Logan is shorter than all the other guys here, a lot of the women."Do you grow down?" Harry asks, confused about how some of the big kids are taller than Mr. Logan. Isn't he older?Mr. Logan snorts. "No. I just didn't grow much."The stick between Mr. Logan's teeth wiggles when he talks. Aunt Tuna said only horrible, nasty people used them, but she'd say that about wands too.Mr. Logan pulls out a small box full of the sticks and offers one to Harry's dad. Harry's dad flicks something and lights the end of the stick on fire. He puts it in his mouth and puffs out smoke, like the dragons Piers told Dudley about before Aunt Tuna forbade him from talking about it."Can I try?" Harry begs."They're not for kids." Mr. Logan grunts, shoving the box back in his pocket.Harry crosses his arms and says, again, "I wish I was bigger.""You shouldn't have these, even when you're bigger." Harry's dad says."Why?""Ain't good for anyone really," Logan says. "but I heal.""I heal!" Harry protests. "Sometimes I wake up and don't hurt anymore, even after Uncle Vernon gives me a thrashing."Both Mr. Logan and Harry's dad look furious, and Harry bites down on his lip to shut up. He doesn't say anything about Mr. Moody making his knee better.Nobody says anything for a bit, and then Mr. Logan nods at the orange ball laying forgotten on the court. "Try to score some more.""I can't." Harry says, much quieter. He'd need a broomstick, like Quidditch, or a flying motorbike. Mr. Stark said he'd make one, but now he's gone with Steve."You don't need anything but yourself." says a voice behind him. Ms. Jean. Without anyone touching it, the basketball lifts off the ground, flies over the court, and swishes through the net."Dad! Did you see?!" Harry shouts, running after the ball. The ball changes direction mid-bounce to hop over to Harry.Harry throws the ball over and over, but he can't get it to fly, even when he tries pushing with hands he can't see.Harry spots Mr. Moody watching from the side, and remembers that he'd made a ball fly too. "Can I use your wand? Please?""No." Mr. Moody growls. "It wouldn't listen to you."Remembering the wand he'd grabbed on the plane, and how the window exploded, Harry nods. He doesn't want the basketball to explode, even if Mr. Moody could fix it, just like he had back at Mr. Stark's house.When it's time for Harry to visit Professor X's office, Harry doesn't let his dad leave.The professor's office looks fancy and old, a little like the place Dumb-Bell-Door brought them, only the Professor's a lot nicer. He lets Harry play with the horse head and other strange-shaped toys that sit on a board that looks like kitchen tiles. Harry makes some of them HYDRA, and the two he's using as Iron Man and Captain America take them down.As he's playing, Harry tells the Professor "Matilda's better than me.""I wouldn't want anyone else as my kid." Harry's dad lays a hand on his shoulder. "Not Robin nor Matilda."Harry sits stiffly. "You want Steve."Harry's dad blows out a heavy breath, only there's no smoke now. "I stayed with you.""Harry," Professor X says, "Steve means a lot to your dad, but that doesn't mean he'll stop caring about you."Harry drops the figures. Aunt Tuna and Uncle Vernon only cared about Dudley.Harry crawls into his dad's lap, sniveling like the sissy boy Uncle Vernon said he was. He hears Professor X more than his dad, even though Harry's ear is right next to his dad's mouth. The professor keeps saying that Harry is safe now, that his aunt and uncle won't hurt him here."My dad beat 'em." Harry mumbles once he's stopped sobbing. He stares at the scattered pieces on the board. "An' Iron Man's going to win 'gainst HYDRA.""It won't be fast." Harry's dad says. "Steve fought them before, and they came back."That's because Steve isn't as cool as Iron Man.Harry slides off his dad's lap, and picks up one of the pieces with a ball on one end. He smashes the ball into the HYDRA pieces, just like the Bludgers Mr. Moody had told him about.When Harry tries throwing the piece to make it soar, it crashes to the squares below."Why can't I do it?" Harry asks after another throw ends with the piece crashing down. "Ms. Grey made the ball fly.""Most of my students cannot control their powers when they arrive.""The big kids can." Harry grumbles. They can do lots of things he can't, like read, shoot hoops, stay up late. He's seen some of them use powers."They're still learning." Professor X says. "I taught Jean and Scott to control their powers when they were far older than you.""Matilda's five, and she can.""She practiced." Harry's dad tells him. "If you practice, you'll get better."When their session is over, Harry pulls his dad back to the courts, but Ms. Jean is gone and several big kids are playing ball. None of them make the ball fly like Ms. Jean.Harry rushes in, thinking about the ball flying to him, but it doesn't. The big kids keep throwing over his head, and Harry gets more and more frustrated until one time, the ball suddenly stops above him and bounces right at his feet.Harry grins as he grabs it. Did he do that?!Harry shouts. "Dad! Did you see? Look what I did!"He hurls it up at the hoop with all his might, and it hits the rim this time.Harry's dad lifts him onto his shoulder again. One of the big kids throws the ball up to him. Harry throws it and it hits the outside of the rim. Instead of bouncing away, the ball rolls up over the rim to fall through the net."I did it!" Harry shouts. It didn't happen every time he wanted it to, but it happened. Some of the big kids cheer, and Harry grins down at them..He can't wait to show Mr. Stark.As Harry is carried on his dad's shoulder around the court, he almost feels like he's flying. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Tony catches up to Steve at Camp Lehigh, which he knows from Howard's endless stories is where Steve Rogers first trained before being souped up with serum.Cap is currently standing in the abandoned site, looking as if he's seeing a ghost."Feeling nostalgic?" Tony asks when he lands, smirking at the slack-jawed look Steve gives his suit."I thought flying cars were the future," Cap mutters."Yeah, well, Howard couldn't even manage that, and I built my first suit with scraps." Tony replies. "By the way, Logan's pissed you took his bike. And for the record, I'm going to make Harry a flying one.""I know I'm new to... now," Cap says, "But I doubt kids his age are allowed to drive.""They are, totally." Tony answers. He gets a disbelieving look before Cap returns to business."If HYDRA's still around, they'd want to keep their enemies close, wouldn't they?" Cap rambles something about army regulations and munitions storage, ending with "That building's in the wrong place.""Maybe some sap turned it into a shrine to you," Tony says as they make their way over. "I thought you were off hunting HYDRA agents."Cap ignores him, pulling his shield back to smash the padlock.Tony huffs, pushes Cap out of the way, and cuts it with a laser instead. "We've got better tools these days, Gramps."When the lights turn on, they reveal a large SHIELD logo on the far wall along with rows of shelves and empty desks with ancient computers. Cap still looks intrigued by the technology, and Tony rolls his eyes."That stuff's decades old already."On one wall has large portraits of Howard and Peggy. Cap stares at them silently and Tony, never one to let silence stick around, says "You know, James almost abandoned Harry to go looking for you. He said someone has to watch your back when you do something stupid, so here I am."Not looking away from the pictures, Cap seems to be picking his words. "He found someone else to look out for.""Yeah, he and Harry are kind of a package deal.""Little kids don't like me. They always cried during photo shoots," Cap shakes his head, "but Bucky, he's great with kids. He has four little sisters.""Well, now he's got his own kid," Tony points a finger at Cap's chest. "So don't get between them."Tony thought his life was surreal before, and now he's quasi-threatening a living legend who, until a few days ago, was thought dead. Well, he still is by most of the world."He always stuck up for the little man." Cap huffs something that isn't quite a laugh. "Usually me."Suddenly, Steve is back in Captain America mode, tugging at a set of shelves. "Why hide something in an already hidden bunker?"The shelves slide to reveal a rickety old elevator, which takes them to a basement full of tape drives. "These are ancient, too." Tony tells his companion.Right in front of the large, eighties-era monochrome monitor is a suspiciously modern USB reader.Clearly, someone's been down here recently, though the place seems like it's been abandoned for years.A USB stick pops out of Tony's suit, and Tony plugs it in. "All right, Jarvis, do your thing."The tape drives begin to whir, magnetic tape spinning on large wheels all around them. Cap looks around, but Tony's gaze is fixed on the screen."Sir-" Jarvis starts. Vertical green lines flash across the screen before forming a crude image of a bespectacled man."Zola." Cap mutters. "A German scientist. Bucky and I-""I know who he is," Tony says. "He's been dead for years."The security camera hooked up to the computer turns to point at Tony, and a voice suddenly speaks. "You are wrong, Anthony Stark. Much as Steve Rogers was about his friend."Cap's mouth tightens. Tony wonders if this is how people feel when they first hear Jarvis, except this voice is much more sinister.Inside Tony's helmet, Jarvis says "Sir, he appears to be a fully functioning AI."Tony swears. Not only is HYDRA a despicable terrorist organization, but they also somehow built a cybernetic arm that rivals his suits and uploaded someone's consciousness to a computer, decades before Jarvis or Iron Man were born.He's going to burn them to the ground.Zola's going on about how he received a terminal diagnosis in 1972. How he was recruited for SHIELD upon its conception during Operation Paperclip.HYDRA didn't infiltrate SHIELD, it was lurking from the very beginning.Cap seems to be having similar thoughts. He smashes his shield into the keyboard, sending shards of plastic keys flying everywhere, as if that will destroy Zola. "It was all for nothing!"Zola monologues, almost like a supervillain in a movie, about how humanity can't be trusted with its freedom and how HYDRA will bring order.Then Zola pulls out the big guns, or rather, files. Grainy photos of the Winter Soldier, peering down a sniper rifle. Records of medical experiments with redacted information, though it's clear who the subject was. The screen even flashes headlines about that fateful car crash."Jarvis," Tony says, eyeing the screen with loathing. "Deal with him.""With pleasure, sir." Jarvis replies.Hours later, Tony rockets back to the school, landing just before all the students go in for dinner. Harry runs up to him almost as soon as he lands. His dark hair is sticking every way, as usual, but he looks like he's been playing outside most of the day, going from the dirt on his clothes."Did you beat them?" Harry asks breathlessly."We, uh, had a talk with one of the bad guys."Harry looks highly disappointed. "And then you kicked his butt?""He didn't have one." Tony replies, and Harry giggles despite himself."When are you going to beat them all?" Harry presses, and Tony almost can't believe this is the same frightened, overly-apologetic boy who showed up at his own mansion. It's a good change."It takes time."Harry huffs. "You were gone all day.""It takes longer than a day." James sounds as if he's said it a thousand times today."Years?" Harry asks in disbelief."I hope not." Tony replies. "But this isn't like those Justice League episodes you saw."Harry glances back at James, then tugs on Tony's armored fingers until Tony crouches down. Harry leans in to whisper against Tony's helmet. "Did Steve die? Dad's going 'ta be sad.""No." Tony snorts. "Cap's just slower than me."Harry turns to James to announce "He's not dead, he's just slow."Tony can't help the burst of laughter that escapes him, though it mellows when Logan approaches with his usual scowl. James does not appear remotely intimidated, some of the tension has left his flesh shoulder after hearing the news about Cap."Your bike's fine." Tony assures before Logan says anything."I got a basket." Harry tells Tony, who holds out his hand for a high-five before remembering the repulsors attached to his palms. He settles for a fist bump instead, which Harry must have picked up from the older students."A shrimpy kid like you? That's impressive."Harry glowers slightly. "I used my powers.""That's even better." Tony grins."Ms. Grey did too." Harry begins to pull Tony and James toward the mansion. "Mr. Moody said I can't use a wand. I can hit bad guys with basketballs and Bludgers.""You aren't fighting." James says sternly as they hang back behind a throng of students in the hallway. James is tense again, and Tony catches him glancing back toward the road."He's just slow." Harry reminds him."He has enhanced speed." James mutters, though Harry clearly isn't listening, talking with one of the older kids about basketball.It isn't until they're already eating that Steve arrives.Harry points at the shield on Cap's back and whispers "He's a turtle."Cap slings himself next to James, and Logan stalks away check on his motorcycle, raising a claw at Cap on his way out.Moody clomps over. "You need any help getting information?" He actually smiles at the prospect of interrogation, and it's honestly terrifying."Did you talk to Piers?" Harry asks, looking more at Tony than Steve."Pierce." James corrects rigidly."No, it was Zola." Steve says with a scowl. James' eyes go distant and he glances down at his hands as if seeing them for the first time. "On some kind of screen."Tony's too busy watching James to make a crack at that. The AI version of Zola clearly knew about the Winter Soldier, so he'd almost certainly been responsible for the torture, surgeries and everything else James suffered through.Tony almost wishes the man was still alive, just so they could have a chat face-to-face.Harry reaches out to grab his dad's metal fingers, and doesn't say anything when Steve does the same to James' flesh hand."I've got him trapped right here." Tony says, holding the flash drive. "The... sicko thought it'd be a good idea to upload himself on a computer, but...""You took his brain?" Harry asks, squeezing James' fingers. "Like Dumb-Bell-Door?"James seems to have calmed down, and Tony wonders if Professor X had anything to do with that as the man drives his wheelchair over."Dumbledore's been fighting dark wizards and witches since before you were born, boy." Moody growls. "Your mum and dad did too. It's why they were killed by-""You can't die too." Harry says, glancing at James, Tony and even Steve. "You can't die when you fight them, okay?""I wasn't planning to," Tony says, softer than usual."Dumbledore is tracking HYDRA wizards and Death Eaters across the pond." Professor X informs them."Not us?" Harry asks, concerned."He will not bother you here." Professor X promises. "Nor will Snape, who you've called the 'enemy asset'"Tony notes that Moody doesn't seem so convinced about that second part, muttering about how some people never change. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- James doesn't feel when Harry lets go of the prosthesis, as he would with his flesh hand. Harry sprints down the hallway as fast as his short legs allow and grins back at James. "I'm faster than Cap'n Turtle!"Beside James, Steve sighs, but ends up sketching a red, white and blue turtle with a star on its shell, much to Harry's delight. Harry's eyes practically bug out when Steve sketches a realistic rendition of Harry scoring a basket on a broomstick.As Harry's eyes start drooping, Stark enters and throws himself on the couch.The stick in Stark's hand is not weaponized the same way wands are, but it could be equally dangerous in the hands of an enemy. As dangerous as the red book with the black star, if not more so.The Bucky voice urges him to reach out and crush the device, but Harry is currently clinging tightly to James' hand, curled up in his lap."Is this common now?" Steve asks, "People putting their brains in machines?""I would say no," Stark shoots the stick a scathing look. "But then again, I'm surrounded by wizards, mutants and super soldiers in a special-powers school. I don't even know what's normal anymore."He's got a point there, Bucky says in James' mind.Stark mutters, "Still, it shouldn't have been possible for him to back up his brain on that crappy computer."Steve stops drawing to study James' face. "Did they do that to you?"Why would they have backed me up, Punk? Bucky asks sardonically. They were aiming to erase me. Besides, they did the opposite. Put a machine inside a man. THE ASSET IS NOT A MACHINE. Perhaps it would have been easier to rearrange his brain if he was."Bucky's voice is in my head, not a machine." James replies, which only makes Steve's face look physically stricken. He should try to echo Bucky's voice, but instead looks at the stick."Yeah, guess it's a literal memory stick now." Stark grins humorlessly, and his expression quickly grows more serious. "Zola was a mole inside SHIELD the whole time. I mean, you told me about the infestation, but did you know it was Zola?"James sits rigidly. He remembers Zola watching as the surgeons sawed off his stump and drilled the prosthesis into his bones. Remembers the man pronouncing him the new fist of HYDRA. ZOLA CREATED THE ASSET BEFORE PIERCE. James glances up, a phantom agony lingering in his shoulder, more than the usual pain from the weight of the prosthesis. All eyes are on him- he must have been unresponsive."We have to extract some more information from Zola," Stark says. "But once we do, you should be the one to destroy this remainder. I know, crushing a plastic stick isn't very satisfying, but maybe we can blow it up or shoot it.""Or hit it with a bludger." Harry says, swinging a fist through the air.Stark spins the memory stick in his fingers. "You're good with knives, right?"James nods."You said no knives." Harry accuses, almost slashing his finger at Stark."I said no knives for you." Stark replies. "I trust James with stabbing a memory stick.""I've got you covered there, bub." Logan remarks as he enters the room, making a fist, but keeping his claws retracted."If he was still alive..." Steve's jaw is tight and his pencil snaps in half."Jarvis is combing through every SHIELD file we can get a hold on." Stark has a similar spark in his eye. "If they're trying to back someone else up, we'll know.""Chuck's got a computer." Logan grunts. "Increases his power, lets him find anybody in the world.""Seriously?" Stark gapes. "That would've been a nice thing to mention. Could he make Pierce admit to everything? Say 'Hail Hydra' on national TV or something?"Steve frowns. "Isn't that what HYDRA did to him?"HYDRA has wizards and witches on their side, and may have access to a similar device, making it only a matter of time before they locate him. They could use the codewords telepathically, reset him without ever stepping foot in the mansion.James barely hears Steve asking if Johann Schmidt's brain is in a machine.As James carries a sleeping Harry to the bedroom, he knows he won't be getting much sleep, himself."Dad?" Harry shakes his dad, who's laying in bed, but not asleep. He's a statue again.Someone stole his brain. Harry shakes him again, but his dad remains frozen.A dark figure stands silently in the doorway before entering the room.The man is dressed in black clothes, but not in the nice way Dad and Batman are. He's holding a memory stick like Mr. Stark had, and Harry just knows that his dad's brain is on this one."Put it back." Harry demands. He looks down, realizing he's holding his own stick- a wand, like Mr. Moody's. Nothing happens when he waves it.Harry stands up to hit the man with the wand, but the man just laughs. Punching him gets another laugh. Harry wishes he brought a basketball to bed, so he could throw it at the man.Another shadowy figure appears at the bedroom door. Harry watches as it slowly enters, wondering if it's a gun guy or a bad witch.Captain America strides into the room with his shield. He punches the bad guy, but instead of taking the memory stick, he pulls out another one and taps it against Dad's head.Dad looks at Captain America instead of Harry. He stretches, then stands up."Dad?""Bucky," Captain America hugs him, and Harry watches metal and flesh arms wrap around Captain America, over his dumb turtle shell shield."It's me," Dad says, but he doesn't sound like himself. Harry stares at the star on his Dad's shoulder and the star on the shield. Harry wishes he matched Dad, but he's stuck with a lightning bolt.The hug finally ends, and Harry holds out his arms, but both men turn toward the door without looking his way."Daddy!" Harry calls as they walk out. There's an evil laugh and a flash of green light in the hallway, and then everything is quiet. Harry jumps off the bed, but tangles in the sheets and falls to the floor.It's as silent as his cupboard was in the middle of the night, and suddenly almost as dark. Harry squirms out of the blanket and hurries toward the door.There's probably a bad wizard out there, but Harry doesn't hear any fighting, or any sounds at all. He peeks around the door. No evil wizard, no Captain America.No Dad.Harry walks down the long, empty hall, sure a gun guy or witch will jump out of the shadows at any moment. The hall feels huge, endless. He wishes Dad was beside him, like when they lived at Mr. Stark's house.Harry stops at the top of the large staircase. Nobody is fighting in the space he can see below. Harry creeps down the steps and past where the cupboard would be.The downstairs is just as empty as when his dad found him at Privet Drive. Harry looks around, hoping his dad will appear from the shadows, but he's alone. He makes his way toward the living room, which is a little bit brighter than the hall. Harry glances over his shoulder, just to make sure nothing's sneaking up on him.Suddenly, gunfire and screams explode from the living room. It's not Dad's scream- surely he won.An older kid yells "Gotcha!"Harry enters to find an older boy and girl slouched on the couch. The telly shows an arm holding a gun, and it looks a lot like Dad's flesh arm."Daddy?" Harry runs toward the telly, barely paying attention to the other guy, who looks like he fell on the ground."Get out of the way," one of the older kids tells him. "Go back to bed."Harry refuses to move. "That's Dad! Dad, come out!""It's a game." the older girl huffs."Dad!" Harry exclaims, almost hitting the telly like Dudley had. Where's Mr. Stark? He'd know how to get Dad back out."Your dad's with Logan." the girl says. "I think they're going to be drinking buddies.""They're having hot cocoa?" Harry frowns. It almost hurts more than when he lay in his cupboard, trying to quiet his growling tummy as Dudley slurped mug after mug of cocoa and cried about dreams of freaks."Just go," one of the older kids tells him. Harry runs off and bursts into the kitchen, where he finds Mr. Logan, Mr. Stark, Cap and Dad all sitting around the table.Harry charges toward the captain and punches him in the stomach. "Give his brain back!"Cap doesn't laugh at being punched, like the other guy, but he mostly seems confused.Safe, familiar hands, one metal and one skin, lift Harry up and pull him away from Cap."You're still pulling little guys out of fights, huh, Buck?"Harry kicks the air. "He's James.""I was Bucky."Harry pauses, then keeps swinging. Dad's only saying that because Cap messed with his memory stick. "Give Dad his mem'ry!""Steve didn't take my memory." Dad says quietly, and Harry stills. "Zola did. HYDRA did."Harry points at Cap. "He used the wrong stick.""It wasn't a stick." Dad closes his eyes, his face tight. Finally, he says "A chair."Harry slides off Dad's lap and tugs at his hand until Dad stands from his seat. Cap starts to stand too, and Harry tells him. "Go hide in your shell.""Do you want cocoa?" Dad asks, heading toward the counter. Harry nods. Only Mr. Stark has a mug- Dad, Mr. Logan and Cap all have glass bottles."I think you had a bad dream." Mr. Stark says. "Nobody did anything to your dad. Well, not today, anyway."This isn't a dream, because Dad doesn't know who he is."You're my Bat Dad." Harry insists. "Not Bucky."Dad says nothing as he helps Harry measure the cocoa mix, which is more like himself, but as he's stirring it in, he speaks. "If it wasn't for Bucky's voice, HYDRA would have us both."Cap stares at Dad. "You're still Bucky, deep down.""Really, Rogers? He's not going to be the Bucky from 1945 after everything." Mr. Stark pinches his nose. "I'm not the same man I was pre-Iron Man, and that was three months, not decades."Cap looks confused."I built my first suit in a cave." Harry opens his mouth, and Mr. Stark holds up a finger. "Not a batcave. It wasn't a good place, and I blew it up.""There was a fire when my A'set dad James found me." Harry shares."He rescued you from a fire?" Cap asks, and Harry nods."Harry, I set the fire." Dad isn't looking at Harry, or anyone else. He stands like a statue again, and Harry turns to scowl Cap, but he looks worried too.Maybe Dad's getting a flashback memory instead of having it taken.Finally, Dad moves. He lets out a long, shaky breath, closes his eyes."I started the fire." Dad says. "I did bad things for HYDRA.""You didn't have a choice." Mr. Stark's voice is firm, his dark eyes flashing.Dad looks at his metal hand, so long that Harry wonders if he's having another memory. "I still did it."Harry can't think of anything bad his dad's done. "You beat the gun guys an' the giant at the castle."Bucky hadn't done that.That doesn't seem like it cheered Dad up any. If anything, he looks worse. "I hurt people.""Only bad guys." Harry argues, and suddenly every adult is giving him a look, and then Dad and Mr. Stark stare at each other without saying anything."Bucky would have been a better father." Dad says, and Cap nods.Harry stomps out of the room and sits against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He hears Mr. Stark demand "Why would you say that?""You know what I did." Dad replies."It wasn't your fault," Mr. Stark snaps. "Do you want me to blame you?""You don't know everything I've done." Dad says, his voice flat but not quite like usual. "I don't know everything I've done.""Join the club, bub." Mr. Logan growls. "Make 'em regret what they made you. I did.""That's the plan." Mr. Stark says. "Look, James. Bucky. Whoever. Whatever you did before, you just made your kid run out of here. Plus it's probably the Bucky voice that made you almost abandon him. That's not great father material."Harry goes still, trying not to breathe, but Mr. Logan says he can smell Harry outside the door."I was the fist of HYDRA." Dad says."Well, the whole time I've known you, you've been the fist of Harry." Mr. Stark says. "So go out there, give Harry his hot chocolate, and go find Charles. This is above my paygrade, and I'm a billionaire." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Whenever Steve had imagined the future, Bucky had always been a part of it. When Bucky fell, Steve found himself unable to conceive of a future without him.Now, Steve's further in the future than he ever though he'd be, and it's nothing like he imagined.The technology is way beyond flying cars, even if those still don't exist. There are handheld video cameras that the students used to make an amateur film- in color- about Captain America, Bucky and Logan's roles in the war, as if it's ancient history.Children had always been an abstract, unlikely possibility in Steve's mind, but he's currently surrounded by them, and Bucky has taken the role of a father. Not only that, Bucky had been forced into a role so horrific during the time Steve had been frozen that he hardly seems like Bucky anymore.One thing Steve had thought was certain about the future- as he'd dived the plane into the Arctic- was that the war would be over. He'd never imagined waking up to find out that HYDRA had been lurking and torturing his best friend for over half a century.Yet instead of fighting, Steve is currently sitting in an ornate office, having tea with Bucky, Harry and the professor, who is some sort of mind reader."I like tea," Harry says, as if it's a novelty. Steve has to mentally remind himself that it's been decades since America or Britain rationed supplies, even if that era of history is a not-so-distant memory for Steve. Besides, Harry had mentioned Dudley getting tea, biscuits and more in an amount that made it clear his home had never seen a rationing or depression, even if Harry himself had been deprived them.Steve's realizing that Harry's relatives were worse than bullies, and one look at Bucky- Steve still has a hard time thinking of him as James, as he now prefers- confirms this."I took care of them," Bucky James tells him.Steve reminisces of how Bucky would join any fight Steve found himself in, but the Bucky in front of him, with his dark clothes and dour expression, looks like he would have just shot them. He had been the sniper of the Howling Commandoes, after all, and those photos of the Winter Soldier are already etched in Steve's mind."They sound like bad people." Steve remarks."Not all of them," Bucky James intones.Harry sips tea from a plastic cup. "They were normal.""The way you were treated is not normal, although it is unfortunately common among my students." the Professor looks from Harry to Bucky James. "What is normal is how James treats you. Feeding you, tending to your wounds, keeping you safe and playing with you.""Bucky doesn't do that." Harry says.Steve glances at Bucky James, whose jaw is tight. He doesn't repeat the thing about Bucky's voice in his head. Steve hadn't been privy to the conversation between Bucky James and Harry after the boy ran out of the kitchen earlier, but hadn't the Bucky part of Bucky James been the one insisting he help Harry?Harry's already moved on. "Fighting bad guys is normal." the boy says, and Steve finds himself nodding in agreement. After all, countless fathers had left their wives and children when they enlisted. "Mr. Moody said my mummy an' my other James dad fighted bad wizards.""Fought." the professor corrects gently. "Your parents fought bad witches and wizards.""Was my mummy like Ms. Jean?" Harry asks in a hushed tone."Your mum, Lily, was an extraordinarily kind and skilled witch." the Professor says. "She loved you very much. At the risk of sounding cliché, your parents loved you more than life itself.""Would mummy have showed me to shoot magic baskets?""I'm sure she would have." Professor X says. "She'd be proud to see what a brave, kind boy you've grown to be."Harry beams, then turns to Bucky James. "Can Ms. Jean be my new mummy? Like you're my other James dad?"Steve sputters, his sip of tea going down the wrong way. The Professor gives Steve a knowing look and explains to Harry that Jean and Scott are a couple."Oh." Harry says. "Is Mr. Stark my other other dad?"Steve gapes at how casual Harry is about it, but the Professor seems similarly unconcerned about the taboo topic."You and Stark aren't..." Steve glances at Bucky James and trails off. Harry had mentioned being at Stark's house, and Bucky James sometimes seems more comfortable with Stark than with Steve, which stings. But Bucky had always slung his arm around Steve's skinny shoulders, and Steve hasn't seen him do that with Stark. He hasn't seen his friend show affection toward anyone except Harry."Stark seems more like an eccentric uncle." Steve decides, and Harry shakes his head vehemently. Steve silently curses himself. He's certainly not gaining any favor in Harry's eyes."James is Harry's only parent, even if it often takes a village to raise a child." Professor Xavier smiles. "Or a school.""You're the best dad." Harry tells Bucky James, as if daring him to argue that Bucky would be better. The boy holds out a fist for Bucky James to bump. "'Cos you're my fist.""I'd be a better father if-" Bucky James starts. Harry gives a glare that rivals Steve's back when he was as scrawny as the boy."Get the words out of my head." Bucky James turns to the professor. "Please. I don't know if I'll ever be Bucky, but the words have to go.""I'll do everything in my power. I may be able to help you render them ineffective." Professor X promises. "Shall we begin now?"Bucky James gives a clipped nod, face blank."Harry, Captain, I must insist you leave my office." the Professor says. "This may not be pleasant."Neither Steve nor Harry move an inch."Scram." Bucky James tells them both.Steve and Harry linger outside the doorway, both standing watch until Bucky James calls "Harry, go play. We'll play ball when I'm done here. Steve, keep an eye on him."Steve was uncomfortable enough with the children who looked at him with hero-worship once he'd become Captain America. What is he supposed to do with a boy who doesn't even like him and views Steve as competition over Bucky James?Harry runs off, not even calling Steve Captain Turtle. Steve finds the boy in the living room, where a teenaged boy and girl are playing video games, a concept Steve had never imagined in his wildest dreams. A metal drink can- another new invention- is perched precariously on the armrest.Steve wonders if he can pass nanny duty off to the older children- after all, Steve should be hunting down HYDRA agents- but Harry seems to have some personal grudge with these two. The look on his face is all to familiar to the one Steve had given bullies his whole life."Where's Mr. Stark?" Harry asks, almost demands. Steve doesn't even know the boy and he's still surprised at how bold Harry's question comes out."He's with Beast in the lab." the older boy replies. "They're probably blowing stuff up. You can't go there.""Where's Ms. Jean?" Harry asks, and he runs through what seems like the entire roster at the school. Jean Grey, Logan, Kurt. Jarvis, whoever that is."You've got Captain America." the girl tells Harry in complete exasperation. "Go play frisbee or something."Before Steve can say anything, the can on the armrest tips as if pushed by an invisible hand, spilling over the girl's lap and the cushions. The girl swears, and Harry slips away with a surprisingly satisfied expression. He says something about a trench bull, and while Steve is quickly learning about this new time he's in, he still has no idea what Bucky James's son is talking about."Ready to comply." the Asset tells its handler, somehow knowing the man speaks English despite the Russian trigger words. The crisp suit is familiar, as is the man's age. Perhaps he has been a handler before, but something is different from the handlers the Asset remembers. It isn't just the man's wheelchair that makes the handler different.The Soldier has not been put in the chair, but that step in the process is unnecessary. It can feel the handler in its head, performing the maintenance without the need for such equipment. It is accustomed to awaking in cold, concrete bunkers, but it is currently in an ornate office with mahogany furniture and shelves of books. Sunlight streams through a window.KNEEL the internal voice commands. The Asset levels itself with its handler's seated position, in case the handler sees fit to strike the Soldier across the face for any transgressions."I will not hurt you," the handler says, inexplicably, in its mind.The Soldier awaits a command, a mission. It hears children playing outside. Perhaps one will be the target.No, says a different voice in the Soldier's head.It does not know what to expect, with the new handler, and spares a glance upward.The handler's face looks... kind. It reminds the Asset of Pierce, but the man is not Pierce. There had been another handler with a similarly kind expression. Images flash through the Asset's mind. A small boy with messy black hair peers out from a cupboard, clings to the Asset's chest, points to a photo in color of a mansion.Harry, says another voice in the Asset-James' mind.Harry was the youngest handler the Asset remembers serving. Where is Harry? Had the Soldier displeased him. He was Harry's fist. The urge to look for Harry is overwhelming, overshadowing any urge to look for Pierce or other HYDRA handlers."James." the handler says in the Soldier's mind. James must be its new codename. The Soldier-James- snaps to attention, ready to report the malfunction, but the name brings up another stream of images.Crackers in the shape of anatomically-incorrect animals, a castle, a fight against a bearded giant of a man, wilder than the Asset itself. A man like the Asset in appearance- dark clothes and long, dark hair, face either blank or scowling. The Asset was immobilized, incapacitated. MISSION FAILURE. The Asset has failed, is incapable of returning to the handler. Correction is required."You have not failed. You are doing admirably." the handler says aloud. "Are you ready, James?""Ready to comply." the Asset-James states automatically. It pauses. That is incorrect. "Further maintenance is required."The handler presses its fingers to the Asset-James' head, much like the chair. There is no all-consuming pain, only more flashes.Agents claiming the asset, Harry muttering a word. Eliminating the agents to protect Harry, Harry smiling up at him. A vaguely familiar man who does not cease talking as he repairs James's prosthesis. Ridiculous locomotives with facial features and an even more ridiculous black hooded mask with pointed ears and a cape.An offer of help from the handl-"Professor." the handler- no, professor- corrects almost gently. "Professor Charles Xavier. You are James, or Bucky, whichever you prefer. You have no handlers now."James scopes out the room. "Where's Harry?"Harry's his son, not a handler."Harry is playing." Professor Xavier smiles. "You did well, James. You still prefer James?"James shrugs, his metal shoulder feeling a tad lighter even though its weight is unchanged. Someone called him another name, he's sure.Bucky, says the voice that's not the professor's. It doesn't sound right.He remembers a blonde, muscular man laying in a bed, blue eyes a mix of kindness and pity when he awoke.Punk's a hypocrite, the Bucky voice grouses. Steve hated pity.Another stream of images flows through James's mind- Steve's eyes stay the same but his body changes, sometimes scrawny like Harry's, at other times as muscular as James' own. They fought in a war, Steve had a costume more ridiculous than Batman's.Steve calls James Bucky, but it doesn't feel right.Steve had been drinking tea, before James became the Asset again. Hadn't James sent both Steve and Harry off, so they wouldn't witness it? "Steve's with him?""Yes, I'd hoped some time together would help them get along." Professor Xavier says mildly. "Are you ready to try again, James? You did remarkably.""I wasn't quick enough." James stares at his prosthesis. The professor has been setting him into the Soldier, and then helping him regain his memories as James. Not Bucky, not yet, if it's even possible, but James. It's taking too long. In the time that it took him to snap out of the Soldier's mindset, he could have killed any or all of the kids outside."There's no magic cure, even if there is magic." Charles says gently. "That you are recovering so quickly is astonishing, and I promise I will not allow you to hurt anyone on the premises."James clenches his jaw. The switch to the Soldier takes only ten words. Others, like the one Harry had used, are instantaneous. "Any way I can switch back that quick?" he asks, knowing the man will understand the full thought process. Maybe he can make some new words and-Professor Xavier gives James a reproachful look. "I'm not going to program you as if you are some sort of robot.""You just turned me into a killing machine." James counters, his prosthesis whirring. The professor does not rise to the bait, merely waits for James to slow his breathing."Sorry," James mutters. "I know you're helping, it's just-""It takes time," Professor Xavier says, though not unsympathetically. "I could merely control you to not be the Soldier, but that would require my intervention every time."James sighs. Professor Xavier had said something about exposure therapy, that with enough trials of regaining these memories, it would be easier to break programming."I sensed no allegiance to HYDRA this time." Professor Xavier tells him. "You were rather focused on Harry."That would change if they stuck him back in the chair, but it's a step in the right direction. This wasn't the first attempt, and each time taken to switch back to himself has been shorter. He's just accomplished in a few minutes what took weeks the first time around. But he could be made to murder in the matter of minutes it took to switch.James closes his eyes and opens them again. "I'm ready. Say the words again." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "You know, normally I don't play well with others, but we make a pretty good team." Tony remarks in the lab, which is almost as impressive as his own. "Throw in Doctor Banner, and we'd be the dream team. I'd love to see witches try to attack us then. Not that Storm didn't do amazing, cause she did, but you know, big green rage machine."Tony smirks. He's saying that to a hulking, hairy blue guy who, apparently, wasn't born blue. Dr. McCoy had shared that he was trying to fix his mutation of having prehensile feet and somehow turned himself into a blue beast. Sounds a lot like Dr. Banner's exposure to gamma radiation, Tony thinks as he absentmindedly taps his arc reactor with an Iron Man gauntlet.The faceplate of Tony's suit slides down. He turns to Moody, who has been standing silently in the corner, leaning on his gnarled, wooden staff. "All, right, hit me, moody man. What was it last time? Stupefy? Can't believe that's the name of a spell."Moody has his usual scowl as the magic eye rolls in its socket. He raises his wand, just as a voice demands "Were you going to shoot that at a child?!"Tony turns to see Steve placing himself between Moody and Harry, who had apparently been very stealthy slipping in. Tony's suit suddenly sparks, right as Jarvis lets out a warning. Steve seems disgusted. "You hit a man when his back's turned?""Constant vigilance." Moody is unrepentant. "Your enemies won't wait until you're looking?"Steve's leveling Moody with what must've been that Captain's look of disapproval, the kind Howard claims Steve would have used on Tony many times throughout his childhood. It's almost a shock that Captain America seems firmly on Tony's side, but maybe he's loyal to Tony for pulling him from the ice and helping his long-lost best friend."Is he the enemy now?" Harry asks, glaring at Moody. "If you hurt Mr. Stark, I'll knock your eye out.""No, we're just practicing fighting, like you and your dad did." Tony says. "We're going to make it so magic can't stop my suit.""Dad's going to make it so magic can't take his brain." Harry's small, skinny chest puffs out with pride. Steve looks stricken,"I take it your dad's busy right now?" Tony asks, this time not taking his eye off the grizzled wizard in the corner."With P'fessor X." Harry nods. "He said you're not my other other dad, and they said I can't come here, but I did."Tony barely registers Harry's defiant tone, his mind actually stuttering for a moment at the word dad."Who said I'm a dad?" Tony's voice isn't frantic, no way."You're not my uncle." Harry says."He'll be dead if he keeps getting distracted." Moody growls. Steve pulls Harry off to the sides when Moody shoots a red energy blast at Tony's suit. Tony counters it with his own blast, and dodges another, to a round of applause from Harry.Tony snaps his faceplate up, grinning.Harry shares how he pushed a drink just like Matilda. Steve watches Harry with a look of confusion. Honestly, Tony can relate- he wouldn't trust himself looking after kids, either, but he thinks he's doing a better job of it than Steve is. Take that, Howard.Steve must have read Tony's face, because he seems unable to run away from a challenge. He squares his shoulders and says "Harry, how about we play ball?""What's frisbee?" Harry asks irrelevantly, and Steve clearly doesn't know the answer.Tony smirks. "It's a disc you throw through the air."Steve actually chuckles at that. Jarvis informs Tony, in his helmet, that the frisbee wasn't invented until 1957."Can I ride it?" Harry asks Steve."It's good to see you getting along." Dr. McCoy comments, looking between Harry and Steve."Dad said Steve's important, even if he forgot." Harry frowns. "Like I forgot mummy and my other James dad 'cos I was a baby.""Professor X said they were smart and brave." Steve reminds him."Are they coming back?" Harry asks Tony, seeming far more hopeful at the prospect than when he'd mistaken Natasha for his mom. He turns to stare at Steve, brow furrowed a lot like Tony's.Tony's heart aches as answers "'Fraid not, Oliver.""I'm sorry," Steve says, awkwardly yet sincerely.Tony clears his throat and grins. "Maybe Cap'll let you use his shield as a sled.""His shell?" Harry asks, racing for the door. Steve follows, casting a look back at Tony."James would approve." Moody remarks, and it takes a genius like Tony a few seconds to realize that he means James Potter.Tony continues throwing himself into trying to make his suit immune to magic, fielding calls from Pepper and Coulson. He has several stabbing moments of panic where he's convinced HYDRA is lurking in Stark Industries as well, has Jarvis run background checks on employees. Not that they ever caught Stane before his betrayal.Tony winds up calling Pepper in the middle of the night, relieved to hear her voice even if she's clearly exhausted and irate.Tony spends days on work, tracking down HYDRA bases and having Jarvis gather evidence, which is complicated by the fact that wizards and witches apparently don't use technology, not computers, not even lightbulbs.He hasn't made much progress in tracking down the wizards and witches who'd attacked them mid-flight. Moody says they might be associates of a man named Karkaroff, a former Death Eater who Moody had apparently arrested.Tony's good at throwing himself into projects to forget or solve his problems, but he can't forget Harry's words. He said you're not my other other dad.He hasn't forgotten, but he has been so wrapped up in work that he realizes he's barely seen Harry the past few days.He's turning into Howard.That's a weird thought. Tony's not Harry's dad. He shouldn't feel bad about leaving the mansion to attend a meeting. Harry's in good hands, and Tony still has stuff to do.Still, part of Tony feels oddly guilty, so he decides to throw money at the issue."I have presents!" Tony announces as he strolls back into Xavier's mansion like its one of his own after a meeting. "Think of me as a younger, more handsome, hi-tech Santa. What is it you Brits call him? Father Christmas?""He's not real." Harry scoffs, lacking any of the excitement expected from a child his age. Figures his magic-hating relatives would've forbidden that story.Tony refrains from commenting on that. "It's not Christmas now, but trust me, your first one with me will be worth all the ones you've missed- not that you should've missed them. These are 'just because' presents."He presents Harry with a basketball of his very own as well as a kids' plastic hockey set, then pulls out a gift and thrusts it at Steve. "Here, Cap, since you miss the old Bucky so much."Steve looks at the bear clad in a blue coat with red buttons and a dark mask covering its eyes. He holds the bear out to Harry "Harry should have it."Harry looks offended. "Teddies are for babies."Steve looks like he wants to argue Harry is a baby, but instead says "It's probably more cuddly than that basketball you've been bringing to bed.""That's to beat bad guys." says Harry as he bounces his new ball on the floor.One of the students takes the bear, crouching to Harry's level and adopting a deeper voice to speak for the bear. "I'll keep you safe from bad guys."The girl lowers the bear. "You know, I still have some bears, and I'm not a baby." A few other students raise their hands, indicating they also have plush toys, though one student mumbles Tony's gifting a vintage, valuable toy to a toddler, even though it was intended for Steve.Harry still looks skeptical, dangling the Bucky bear by an arm, eyes locked on the long, thin package Tony had brought, green eyes resigned rather than hopeful.Tony passes out more gifts, including some better phones for some of the students. Then, Tony turns to James and pulls the memory stick out of his pocket."We got everything out of him. He's all yours." Tony smiles grimly. James nods, taking the stick. Tony expects him to crush the small plastic device in his fist, or under his boot, but he looks up instead."Any secure places I can plug him in?"Tony leads James to the room he's been staying in, fetching a laptop that's not connected to the internet. He inserts the stick, and Zola's face appears on the screen."Soldier." Zola croaks, then starts to rattle off words in Russian. James shudders, and Tony wonders why he chose to expose himself to something that's clearly triggering him. His eyes are distant, his breathing becomes strained. Zola says two more words gleefully, victoriously.Tony's about to slam the laptop closed when there's a flash of silver. James punches through the laptop screen, snapping it off the hinges. He shakes the broken screen off his arm, rips the flash drive out with his other hand, and crushes it under the heel of his boot.Something surges in Tony's chest, almost as strong as when he'd fought his way out of the cave in Afghanistan.James turns on his heel, the plastic crunching under his boot, but he spares it no further attention.Taking his cue from James, Tony asks "Want to help give Harry his next present?""You're going to kill me, aren't you?" Tony asks James, eyes glued on Harry as the boy almost brains himself on the metal pole of the basketball hoop while flying his new Motor Broom.Harry himself had coined the term upon opening his gift. It's a version of a broomstick, only its based on the propulsion systems of Tony's own armor rather than the magic that enables brooms to fly. Like Moody's broomstick, Harry's has a seat rather like a motorcycle, but instead of a wooden frame, it's sleek red and gold metal."I will if he kills himself." James replies. Not long ago, that would've sounded terrifying, a legitimate threat, but there's something almost like a smile on his lips. James looks at Steve and mutters that Steve throws himself into danger too, and had thrown up riding the Cyclone.Steve's jaw drops in outrage. "You made me ride that!" James claims he can't recall, but Tony honestly think's he's screwing with them.Harry loops the yard and zips toward them, whooping with delight. Tony holds out a hand for Harry to high-five as he goes past."He's a natural." Tony says, seriously impressed when he remembers his own flying attempts. Harry had taken to the motor broom as if he'd been born on it. According to Moody, he'd been flying toy broomsticks even as a baby, racing under tables and knocking over vases.Now, at four, Harry attempts to pull off a barrel roll only to wind up rolling in the grass. He pops up laughing, climbing on his broom and gripping the sleek handle."Is it weaponized?" James asks. Tony shakes his head, but Harry disproves him by swinging his new hockey stick around as he flies, whacking it into Tony's shin.Harry is the happiest Tony's ever seen him as he soars through the air. He's not quite soaring freely- Tony did think to add some safety features, only letting the broom go a foot or two off the ground. There is a speed limit, but Harry doesn't seem to notice, shouting he's the fastest ever.Tony takes him up on the challenge, and he's not the only one. They line up at the end of the driveway- Tony in his Iron Man suit, Logan on his motorcycle, Harry on his motor broom, and James and Steve on foot.Tony hovers more than flying, and Steve and James jog almost painfully slowly. Even Logan plays along, having his motorcycle run at barely a purr.Harry beats them all to the mansion with a scream of triumph, and soon he's maneuvering, pretending he's outflying enemies on brooms and planes. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Recovery feels like failing a mission. James knows that it will take time, Professor X has emphasized that James' progress won't be linear, setbacks are almost to be expected.The desensitization to the trigger words had taken a weight of his shoulders, but the weight's been added again as James remembers more and more real missions. He sees innocents- guilty only in the eyes of HYDRA- shot down by his gun, choked by his hands, stabbed with a knife in his prosthesis.He writes these in his new journal, along with memories of his life before the war and funny things Harry says. Things he actually wants to remember.Harry seems to be recovering more successfully than James. Harry sometimes even sleeps through the night; there are nights without a hot chocolate trip at 0214. James misses those trips, even though he is glad his son is suffering fewer nightmares.Harry's therapy involves drawing pictures and playing under the gentle eye and guidance of Professor X. Harry works through emotions and trauma while getting to learn to be a child."Adults can benefit greatly from art therapy, as well." The professor mentions. Steve takes him up on it, but James declines. Steve was always the artist, Bucky says A masterpiece for me was a circle that didn't look like a misshapen potato.James stares at Steve's latest sketch- a realistic depiction of the Asset jumping off a train, with Harry in his arms. In the background, a man falls off a train on a mountain.The paper has water damage, indicating Steve had shed a few tears.James turns from the picture to Steve. Steve still shies away from the prosthesis, and James can still see the metal hand wrapped around Maria Stark's neck, positioning Howard to make the crash look like an accident. James slowly reaches out with his flesh hand, lays it on Steve's shoulder. He nods down at the drawing. "That an art therapy project?"Stark walks in with Harry on his hip, telling Harry all about how he was famous before he could walk, too. To an outsider, Stark seems to relish attention and fame, yet he actually appears glad that Harry is out of the public eye.Harry is clearly happy with Stark, but lights up upon seeing James. Stark makes a beeline for James as well, and Harry flings himself out of Stark's arms. James reflexively catches Harry."Are you famous too?" Harry asks.James clenches his jaw. The Soldier was infamous, a legendary assassin.I was pretty well-known too, you know. Bucky grumbles. Stark can't hear the voice, but voices a similar sentiment. He'd recognized James as soon as he'd removed the mask.Even before the war, dames were lining up to go dancing with me, Bucky continues. James almost wants to roll his eyes."You have to be famous." Harry interrupts James' thoughts and voices. "That's why bad guys are chasin' us.""I don't want to be famous." Harry decides, not even giving James time to reply. He's clearly picking up Stark's habits. "Mr. Stark said he got kidnapped, but he's not a kid. I need a secret iden-ty."Harry proceeds to spend the next half hour running around with his face hidden behind his basketball while James stops him from running into doorways. "You don't know me!" Harry shouts to Steve. "I'm Basketball Boy!""Funny, you look like you're made from Harry's basketball." Steve replies."No I don't!" Harry yells. Stark is almost bent over with laughter. James stops Harry from attempting to fly his broomstick as Basketball Boy.Later, James finds Harry kneeling on a bathroom sink, scribbling over his lightning-bolt scar with a red marker. Harry scowls at his reflection. "I can't get a star.""Ask Steve." James suggests, and Harry runs off. He parades around the school, showing everyone how he has a red star just like James does. His hair is starting to grow long. Even though they're not biologically related, Harry is beginning to look like James' son.James leaves his next therapy sessions feeling worse than when he entered, stalking out and ignoring the Professor's words.His brain is buzzing, but not like after a wipe. The inner voice rattles off the names of some of his missions, which makes it even worse. His head is filled with screams of victim's families when they saw their loved ones murdered, their screams as he murdered them to ensure there were no witnesses.Suddenly, his brain's on mute aside from the Professor's voice. James scowls. He's used to ignoring voices.He should join Logan for a smoke, or a drink. Or several, even if they can't affect him.Steve is out, which is almost a relief. Stark is nowhere to be seen. Harry sits on the couch with Jean Grey, showing her one of his childish drawings. "See? He got me out of the cupboard, and then we jumped off a train."James stands silently. Jean looks at him, but Harry is engrossed in sharing his art. He's been making a sort of storybook about his rescue and adventure, narrating his childish drawings of events.James slips away, finds Logan, who wordlessly hands him a cigarette. Logan doesn't give him pitying looks or tell him it wasn't his fault, wasn't him. Logan doesn't tell him he's a hero, and James appreciates the rather taciturn company.Sometimes, James feels more of a connection with Logan than Steve. Steve's from his time, they'd grown up together, sure. Steve had been part of an experiment that made him enhanced. But Steve hadn't been wiped, hadn't been turned into a weapon and an unwilling recipient of metallic body modifications. Logan mentions Weapon X exactly once, but from what James can tell it was essentially another Winter Soldier program.They smoke outside, away from the students milling around. Logan flicks his cigarette butt into a trash can, muttering that Charles complains if they're stomped out on the ground."Those words ain't in your head anymore." Logan grunts. "What's stopping you from giving 'em hell?"James looks at his hands. "I don't want to fight anymore."Logan's answering grin is almost feral. "Leaves more for me.""You smell weird." Harry remarks bluntly when James re-enters the mansion. Enhancements negate the effects of nicotine, but don't overpower the odor of smoke. Not to mention the smell of rain from the thunderstorm that had struck, not from Storm.Stark frowns. "I'm really, really not one to talk, but you're not setting a good example for Harry. I know it was different back in your day, but that stuff blackens your lungs. Well, maybe not yours, but still. Remember when your kid was literally begging for a cigarette? I'm enough of a bad influence for both of us."James scowls. A lecture from Stark is unexpected, but preferable to getting one from Steve. Not that either of them can talk, Steve had smoked in the trenches with the rest of the boys in the Howling Commandos, sometimes passing around a single cigarette.James had chain-smoked today, telling himself it calmed his mind as he remembered what went on behind the walls of another base he'd been deployed from. He relays the location to Stark, who adds it to his hit list.A holographic globe floats above Stark's phone, marked with red dots. Stark's been putting the information he extracted from Zola to good use.Stark and Steve are clearly planning more attacks, along with Storm and other members of the X-Men.James sits back. The Asset had never been included in mission planning. James is sure the plans were made before they'd even taken out of the cryogenic chamber. He was simply given a mission, a target, suited up and sent out to eliminate another enemy of HYDRA.It's hard not to fall into that mindset as the others discuss strategies, which bases to hit, how to draw undercover HYDRA operatives into the open. Stark wants to get his legal team after Pierce and sics JARVIS on Pierce's email and computers.Stark ends up passing his phone to Harry, shooing him from the room while Harry talks excitedly to Jarvis. James hears Harry tell Jarvis "I missed you," before the door shuts. He hears Harry's footsteps fade down the hall. He's probably going flying again."Where's the prof?" Stark asks, looking around. "I mean, I don't mind being the leader of the group, but...""Who says you'd be the leader?" Steve counters, though his tone is mild. Storm gave them both an impatient look.When they leave, Storm sets off toward an already-stormy area, blasting a base with lightning. "What are the odds?" Stark grins, when the news reports of the fire hit.Professor X stays in the basement the next several days- not building gadgets as Stark had, but changing the course of history. Forget the Winter Soldier, HYDRA would've died to get their hands on this guy and make him join their cause.With the power of some computer headset called Cerebro that Stark isn't shutting up about, the Professor almost singlehandedly takes down HYDRA.On national television, Pierce closes a speech with "Hail HYDRA", though James barely registers it. He stands, rigidly, at attention.He's not your handler, Bucky says. James forces himself at ease. If he can ignore the trigger words now, he should be able to ignore this reaction to a former handler.Professor X finds the location of several high-ranking HYDRA members even faster than Stark, finds several that James doesn't remember."This guy's a Professor X Machina." Stark sounds somewhere between pleased and jealous.James isn't sure what Coulson and Romanoff have been doing behind the scenes, but one day a Quinjet approaches the mansion. Before Stark can even suit up, Storm hits it with a bolt of lightning and Jean Grey makes it crash relatively harmlessly into a lake. Jean Grey lifts out several STRIKE team members who are immediately taken into custody.James watches from the basketball court, shielding Harry with his body. One of the members who remained conscious starts to say the trigger words."Bye, bad guys!" Harry shouts over the words, waving with a wicked grin as Logan marches the agents away. James waves with his prothesis, a small smirk forming on his lips at the agent's thunderstruck expression. He know the agent won't ever spread the word out that the asset is unaffected by the triggers.Stark and Steve seem to think the decimation of HYDRA will make James feel better, but seeing the numerous crimes Pierce is charged for just reminds James of everything he's done."It wasn't you." Stark says for the millionth time."It wasn't them, when they decided to hand themselves in." James retorts. He expects Steve to agree that they're sinking to HYDRA's level by mind-controlling its operatives the way they'd controlled the Asset, albeit far less painfully. He had before. But Steve just seems satisfied."They deserve it." Stark waves a hand carelessly. "You didn't. And trust me, my legal team won't let you get locked up."All the same, James shuts himself in his room. The Soldier had been a closely-held secret, but one of the bases may reveal something. He almost wishes the trigger words were still in effect; there's little proof now that he was brainwashed. Without the words, he seems just like every voluntary agent.Harry storms into the room, but he doesn't ask James to play or even why he's sitting there. Harry slumps, sulking and ignoring James's presence entirely. James wants to reach out to him, ask what's wrong, but sees his hands reaching out to smother the Dursley boy.He tells himself Harry may react as Steve always did when he was tiny and pissed off, that he needs space. He's being a bad example, failing his mission to keep Harry happy and safe.After a while of stony silence, Harry leaves the room. James takes an additional twenty-four minutes before following him. Harry is now all smiles.How do kids recover so quickly? Bucky muses.Harry hands James a piece of paper and a green crayon "to get your mad out." He holds up a paper filled with furious scribbling, a few spots torn from the force of it.James is busy looking at Steve's drawing. The HYDRA skull with its insidious tentacles is near the top. A string hangs from each tentacle, controlling the Winter Soldier like a puppet.James wonders if Steve knows the codeword Harry had used to become the handler.He flips past that drawing, sees a progression to Harry and Bucky pulling the Winter Soldier puppet, freeing him from the strings."Steve did that." Harry shares, unnecessarily. "Get your mad out, Dad."James scribbles on the blank paper just to make Harry smile. Harry grabs other materials from a large bin. "P'fessor X said to make safe places. Mine's here, 'cos the bad guys can't get us here. You're here, an' Mr. Stark, and.." Harry proceeds to list off everyone as he builds a mansion out of an old cereal box, dabbing yellow paint on as windows. He makes some basketball hoops out of pipe cleaners on a piece of black paper, then picks up the paintbrush again."It's too big to be a broom," Harry frowns, demonstrating that the brush is nearly as long as the entire craft basketball court. Harry eagerly holds the brush out to Logan as he passes by. "Cut it into a broom, please!"Logan takes the brush, slices off the end with his claws, and hands it back to Harry, who grins. James could've easily snapped the brush with one finger, if Harry had asked him.Harry pushes the bin of craft supplies at James. "You should make your safe place."James picks up a plastic tube, thinking of the cryogenic chamber. It had been horribly cold, of course, but at least he'd known he wouldn't hurt anyone, wouldn't be hurt until he was thawed again.James snaps off pieces for chimneys and helps Harry add details to the miniature mansion."Next thing I know you'll be building an Iron Man suit." Stark remarks as takes in the scene. Harry grabs Stark's sleeve and gleefully points out every detail of the mansion.When the tour of the craft is done, Harry gathers toilet paper tubes, painting them red and gold. The suit isn't finished by Harry's bedtime, and Harry tries every tack to stay up."I'm not tired." he whines as James picks him up and heads to their bedroom. Harry speaks around his toothbrush, bartering for hot chocolate, arguing that Mr. Stark gets to stay up, the big kids get to stay up."I have to watch the paint dry." Harry protests pathetically as James tucks him in. James raises a brow at that one, and Harry crawls across the bed to adjust the position of their miniature mansion.Harry asks to hear the story of their adventure, slipping out of bed again to grab the drawings he was showing Jean several days before.James flips through them, rehashing the events of taking Harry, running from HYDRA and Dumbledore, finding Stark and finally moving from Stark's mansion to this one. He must make it sound like a boring report, because Harry's eyes are soon drooping.Harry falls asleep while gazing at his replica mansion, safe and sound in the real one. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Steve still struggles to sleep, and sometimes feels as if he's now the only one, besides Tony Stark who keeps ungodly hours. Steve doesn't hear Bucky-James or Harry get up tonight- or rather, this morning- for hot chocolate. The kitchen is deserted. Even Stark seems to be asleep, or he's quite possibly on another trip.Steve gets back in his too-soft bed and stays wide awake. Giving up, he makes his bed with military precision and heads for the gym to run on a treadmill. He'd like to go for a run outside, and fight any HYDRA agents that make an appearance, but he wants to stay close to James, too.By the time the sun rises, Steve's pummeling a bag. As he leaves the gym, he can hear students stumbling around, but no excited shouts from Harry.Harry's door is closed, and Steve hears a high-pitched cough instead of Harry's usual chatter and squeals."You okay in there?" Steve asks with a knock. The door swings open, and Bucky- James- is standing there with his long hair mussed, his eyes frantic. "Get some cold towels." he barks.Steve stands, nonplussed, until he sees Harry laying in bed, several washcloths draped over him. He'd been in Harry's position more times than he could count."Go." James growls, and Steve fetches some clean cloths from his own bathroom- a luxury he'd never had before.Harry's still coughing when Steve returns. His green eyes are dazed, vaguely tracking the gleam of the rising sun off James' prosthetic arm, and his skin shines with sweat."Harry will be fine," Hank, a big hairy blue guy, assures James after coming to check on him. Neither Steve nor James are quite so convinced. "Children crash hard but usually bounce back quickly.""That punk didn't." James mutters, putting his flesh hand against Harry's forehead, covering the scar."He doesn't have my laundry list of ailments." Steve agrees. Steve figures the future probably has new illnesses to fight along with new HYDRA agents, but at least polio was eradicated when Steve was in the ice.James sends Steve to fill the bathtub, then checks the temperature himself before lowering Harry into the water.Watching James tend to Harry, Steve realizes, is the most of Bucky he's seen in James. Bucky was practically a mother hen when he cared for Steve. James doesn't leave Harry's side for an instant,Back when Steve was sick, Bucky had to leave for school, and later work, though he clearly hadn't wanted to. In this mansion, James has nothing but time to gently towel Harry off after the bath and tuck him into bed. Steve shouldn't be glad Harry's sick, but James seems better than he's been in days. All his current brooding is clearly related to Harry's health.Moody clumps in, growls that Potter is compromised, and stands guard outside the room. Tony gives James a phone that allows Jarvis to scan and report Harry's vitals.Steve finds himself playing delivery boy, fetching cool cloths, soup and tea, even new medicine that's apparently commonplace now. Harry stays in bed, mostly sleeping, though he wakes up periodically and clings to James like a teddy bear."I'm here," James presses his flesh hand against Harry's forehead.Modern medicine is a marvel. Harry's fever breaks far sooner than Steve ever expected. Harry asks about flying and basketball, but James orders him to stay in bed.Steve's been Harry in this situation. Tiny, surrounded by blankets and arguing he's well enough to do stuff again, while James nearly pins him in bed insisting he's in no condition to be up and about.Harry has it slightly better, though. Apparently hot chocolate is good for sore throats, but they usually didn't have it when Steve was sick.James holds the mug to Harry's lips, after ensuring it's not too hot. Harry frowns."I'm a big kid." Harry mumbles, and immediately spills the mug on the bedcovers. Steve strips the blankets off the bed and throws a replacement set to James. Even in a mansion, it's somehow shocking to realize how many spare sheets there are, though not as shocking as the washing machines and dryers.By the second day, Harry is more awake and much more antsy. He tries to get out of bed, but James won't allow it.Steve hands Harry some paper and crayons. "Art helped me pass the time, when I was sick. Which was all the time."Harry gets his mad out, scribbling over the paper as he coughs and sniffles. James mutters that Harry hadn't been this congested since they were on the run.Harry wipes his nose on the back of his hand, ignoring the handkerchief Steve offers."I want HYDRA to be sick," Harry snuffles. "So they're stuck in bed.""Several of them are stuck in cells, now." Tony remarks as he strolls in with several boxed plastic figures, including Iron Man, Batman, and even Captain America. Several of the figures talk, and Iron Man even lights up. Steve wonders if he'd made them- it'd explain why he'd been gone for two days, but didn't explain the absurd amount of tape and twine traps the figures in their boxes.Harry studies the boxed figures, then frowns at James. "Is this like your crying tube?""Cryo." James corrects. "I wasn't tied down, but...""There's no toy you." Harry says, looking at the assorted characters."He's here." Tony picks up Batman, then grabs Robin and grins. "And here you are. Remember?""No!" Harry folds his arms with a scowl."Here, make them fight while you're in bed. But if you make Batman win, I'm blasting him out the window.""The only toy me is the bear you didn't want. But you've got the real me right here. I'm not leaving." James glances at Tony. "Who did you bring?""Come on in, doc!" Tony calls.Steve expects Hank, but the man who enters isn't blue. He's slightly rumpled, with curly hair, and he seems rather uncomfortable, fidgeting with his glasses."Looking at this place, you didn't really need me." the man mumbles.Tony waves that remark aside. "Always could use a second opinion. Don't let Bruce tell you he's 'not that kind of doctor' because he was running a clinic in Calcutta. He's not that Bruce, Harry." Tony turns to the doctor. "I don't think Harry's had his shots, but you know, I'm not entirely sure he's here legally. I didn't even smuggle him over like you, he and James just showed up at my house. Still, in hindsight, Harry really should've gotten shots."Harry's eyes are wide as he clings to James. "Dudley hated shots." he whispers, saying that his cousin had cried and screamed before the doctor until his aunt promised him all sorts of sweets and toys.The rumpled doctor turns to Harry."I'm all good," Harry insists immediately. He coughs before adding, "I don't need a shot!""I'm not going to give you shots.""Doctor Banner?" Steve holds out a hand. Had Tony really flown across the world and back in the past two days?Steve isn't all that surprised to realize Tony had. Banner, for his part, only looks slightly surprised to see Steve. Tony had probably filled him in on the flight, and the doctor turns back to Harry when the boy begins coughing."Are you a mutant?" Harry asks."You could say that." Doctor Banner mumbles it so Harry doesn't hear, but Steve and James do."I'm going to be a mutant when I grow up." Harry puffs his chest in pride, then hunches in another coughing fit. James rubs his back."Harry's getting better," James proceeds to describe Harry's condition and development in far more detail than Steve would have. Doctor Banner listens and nods, then pulls out a stethoscope and explains what it is."Mutants don't need shots." Harry tells him. Doctor Banner gently explains what he's doing, then listens to Harry's heart and breathing. James is tense- he's walked Harry through breathing several times, even though Harry still isn't as sick as Steve had often been.When the checkup is over, Doctor Banner tells Harry he's been a very brave boy and apologizes that he doesn't have a lollipop to give him."He just got new toys. Wait til you see the toys in the lab. The lab's not as great as mine, of course, but it's better than most." Tony pulls Doctor Banner out of Harry's room. The doctor starts to protest that he was planning on going back to Calcutta, but Tony talks over him. "You'll have to come to my place, of course, for science. Seriously, all that hiding out isn't good for you.""Isn't Captain America hiding here?" Doctor Banner asks wryly."He's my secret." Tony replies. "But you shouldn't stay a secret. Besides, we've got some great bad guy bases for the green guy to smash."Their voices fade from even Steve's hearing. Harry's once again insisting he's well enough to go flying, but James won't budge.Steve puts his former stage skills to use, acting out several scenarios with Harry's new toy figures. Harry enjoys the show, but frequently interrupts to direct the story himself or give warnings to the toys. "There!" Harry yells as the Joker sneaks up on the toy Captain America and Iron Man. He laughs as the mini plastic shield veers horribly off course, rolling under the bed, but this starts another coughing fit."I'm better with the real one," Steve promises as he makes the Captain America figure turn and punch the Joker in the jaw.Harry claps, then sends Steve to fetch one of his crafts.Tony pops in again as Harry is slipping the painted toilet paper armor over Iron Man's plastic limbs. "You're making my suit look like a beast.""Yeah!" Harry holds the toy as if its flying, then throws it, clearly expecting actual flight. Most of the cardboard armor slides off as the toy crashes to the floor."I've had landings like that." Tony picks the toy up, replaces the armor, and helps Steve stand the figures on the nightstand so they're guarding Harry's craft mansion.Harry reaches for Batman, asking Steve to paint it like Logan, "with forks for claws."Steve brings the paints in so Harry can supervise. As Steve works, Harry throws a miniature basketball at the hoop Tony had placed on the door. He gets frustrated that the ball only flies back into his hands once, but doesn't want James or anyone to pick it up. He glares at the ball for daring to stay on the floor.Steve's mind wanders to times long ago, when it had been him coughing. Bucky would come home, read pulp fiction aloud while Steve sketched the scenes painted by words. Steve shakes his head as he paints Batman's cowl yellow, to make Wolverine.He'll never have those times again, but he never thought he'd get Bucky back in any way. Even if James prefers Logan's company and doesn't tease Steve like Bucky used to, at least they're both here.Logan himself severs the tines from forks for Steve to use as the figure's claws.Surprisingly, Harry picks up the Captain America figure too, making the toys kick and hurl the basketball around the bed. Wolverine frequently outruns the Captain, who moves slowly with his shield on his back.Steve looks at the figure of himself. There seems little need for Captain America when Professor X can take down HYDRA single-mindedly. Steve might follow James for a change, and it's clear James is staying here with Harry and trying to renounce the soldier life.Currently, James is kicked back on the bed with Harry on his lap as Harry narrates a story, between sniffles and coughs. Harry's story isn't about superpowers or grand battles. He tells of a simple trip to a hockey rink. "An' we go see a game, not just on the telly. And then we go see Quidditch, and come home and fly."Steve finds himself sketching the scenes from Harry's story.Steve leaves for his therapy session, though he has a strong feeling James will skip his own. Professor X informs Steve of even more developments in taking down HYDRA, that someone at SHIELD wants to meet him, but they quickly shift to more personal matters.Steve doesn't think Professor X has to read his mind to tell that he's wondering what to do with his life.Professor X offers to let Steve teach an art class. Steve feels slightly uncomfortable with all the teens staring at him when he first enters the classroom, but soon becomes absorbed with drawing comic book panels of several of the teens using their special powers, then walking between the tables, coaching students on technique and admiring all the student's work.Some students are drawing on tablets plugged into computers, and Steve is still surprised that the motion on the tablet is captured on the screen.One student named Rogue struggles to draw a proportionate figure. Her hands are gloved, and she shies away from Steve when he bends down to help."I should get Logan to model," Rogue grumbles, but then starts laughing at the thought. She'd teased Logan about Harry's Wolverine figure earlier.The students are impressed that Steve can draw so well from memory, and Steve doesn't mention that his memory is the only way he can see his ma, or the Howling Commandos or Peggy. Even the old Bucky is just a memory now.Rogue shares that once she can draw Logan well, she'll draw him cuddling a puppy.Steve can picture it in his mind and is strongly reminded of James.Steve finds himself sketching James holding Harry, then expanding over the canvas. Several other figures take shape- Tony, Professor X, Logan, Storm. He keeps going, knowing he's going to add every member of the mansion.After all they've done for James, they deserve Steve's recognition. Last but not least, he draws himself. Not Captain America, but Steve, with ink-smudged hands and clothes. Harry had literally made the mansion his safe haven, and Steve realizes it's his, as well. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Back at his aunt and uncle's house, Harry would have given anything to be tucked in bed like he is now. He remembers Dudley bringing something home from nursery school and getting Harry sick too. Harry had stayed in his cupboard, trying not to cough or sneeze while he listened to his aunt fuss over Dudley, arranging blankets and pillows on the couch and bringing Dudley any toy he asked for, including new ones.Harry's been in bed for three days now, and he even got new superhero toys from Mr. Stark. He's at superhero school, which is lots better than Dudley's nursery school, and Harry's dad fusses over him almost as much as his aunt did over Dudley.Harry has everything he'd wanted, but he's bored.Steve acts out more puppet shows with the toys, but Harry watches the window instead, longing to play ball and fly his broom. When Harry tires of making the superhero toys play ball on the sheets, Mr. Stark brings brings a bin of blocks that snap together. "I really should've gotten you LEGOs weeks ago," he says as he shows Harry how to make a motorcycle and a chair like Professor X's.While they're playing, Mr. Stark gets a phone call from someone named Rhodey, or honey bear, or Platypus. Harry's not sure what his real name is, but Mr. Stark uses big words like "compromised", "traitors", and "terrorists" before Dad shoos him from the room with a look at Harry.Building a LEGO house helps some with Harry's boredom, but he still hates staying in bed."I know how it feels," Steve says, busy drawing a picture of Harry in bed with Dad beside him, just how they are right in front of him. "I was stuck in bed a lot as a kid.""Did you have a cupboard?" Harry asks. Steve grimaces and shakes his head."I was sick a lot. Bucky looked after me while Ma was working.." Steve points to the bedroom mirror in the drawing, but it shows Dad with short hair and two skin arms, and the guy in the bed isn't even Harry.Dr. Bruce does a lot of checkups on Harry. After one of them, Mr. Stark pushes Dr. Bruce toward Harry's dad, urging them to talk about guilt or alter-egos. "Bonus points if you say 'it's not easy being green'."Harry points to the leaves on the tree outside and says "That's green. My eyes are green. He's not green!""I know what green is," Mr. Stark rolls his eyes.Neither Dad nor Dr. Bruce say anything to each other."Beast is blue," Harry shares with the doctor. "But green's better.""My, uh, bad side is green." the doctor says."We're all freaks here," Harry says. "We're a freak family. But freak's a bad f-word, so we're mutants."He's heard from the older kids that some people call them the bad word anyway, or mutie."I'm not like these mutants," Doctor Bruce plays with his stethoscope. "I hurt people.""I hurt people too," Dad says."Sheesh, book a joint session with the Prof already." Mr. Stark huffs."Have you talked to him?" Dad asks. Mr. Stark tries to talk about something else, but Dad keeps staring at him seriously. Eventually, Mr. Stark admits he hasn't, and Dad orders him to right back.Harry tells Doctor Bruce more about Beast, who's blue, and Colossus, who's all metal. Why would the doctor hate being green?"Are you going to be in the superhero family picture?" Harry asks the doctor. Steve had mentioned he's painting one, but he won't let anyone look at it yet. Maybe it's bad, Harry thinks with a snicker, though Steve's art is usually really good, almost like photos.Steve had said it's the least he can do to show his thanks to Mr. Stark and everyone in the mansion for helping Harry's dad so much."I don't think I'm family yet." Doctor Bruce laughs."You're here." Harry points out. "Logan says there's family here. And families live in the same house."The next day, Doctor Bruce and Beast both agree that Harry's finally well enough to go out and play, but it's raining. Harry's ready to go out anyway, until Dad stops him."I wouldn't get muddy flying," Harry explains. "Moody says Quidditch doesn't stop for rain.""You'll catch cold," Dad tells him. "You just recovered.""But I want to go out.""You don't want to get sick again."Harry pouts as raindrops race down the window. He blinks back angry tears so his eyes don't rain too.Steve had talked about mud in the trenches, wherever those are, and sleeping in the rain. When Harry brings that up, Dad mutters "That was war.""I want to fly." Harry tries stamping his foot like Dudley. Dad looks at him until he says "Please."Dad picks Harry up and swoops him through the air as easily as Harry flies his action figures around. Harry tries to stay mad- it's not the same as flying his own broom, but soon he's laughing as Dad dips him towards the sofa and lifts him up again, eventually dropping him so he bounces on the cushions. Harry jumps up and Dad takes him soaring again."Paint me flying!" Harry shouts as they zoom past the art room, where Steve and some big kids are painting. Harry tries to peek at Steve's superhero family portrait, but it's hidden under a large cloth. If Harry had a cloak like Moody's, he could sneak in and peek at it.Once Dad stops flying Harry around, Harry bounces his mini basketball down the stairs to see how high can go. Once, it floats up near the chandelier.He pokes through the craft supplies, not knowing what to make. He builds some with LEGO, then idly makes his new Wolverine figure drum his dad's metal arms with the fork claws to make metal music like some kids talk about.When the big kids finally finish classes, most sit in front of the telly instead of playing ball. The telly shows a guy in handcuffs, and the big kids push Harry away when the screen shows a building on fire, saying he's too little to watch. He'd seen his aunt and uncle's house catch fire. And he'd seen bad guys end up all bloody.The people on the telly talk about trials and Mr. Stark talks about a shield that's probably not Steve's. Harry wonders how many bad guys can hide behind one shield- they were hiding in the shield, just like Dad said. But Dad says that SHIELD is a name, just like HYDRA, and that SHIELD thought they were the good guys. But then he said HYDRA thinks they're the good guys too, even though they're the bad guys.Grown-ups don't make any sense, even Dad. Dad seems to think he was a bad guy, even after helping Harry when he's sick. He didn't leave when Harry was sick, but he starts to go smoke with Logan again. But even that's bad. Dad says Harry would have to see a doctor for his lungs and be stuck coughing in bed again if he smoked.Harry wrinkles his nose. It smells pretty bad too. Dad adds that people didn't know it was bad before, but do now."You're doing it," Harry argues, and Dad stamps the smoking stick out under his boot.Harry decides he won't smoke if it means having to see the doctor. He hopes he's done with doctors forever. Even though he's better, Doctor Bruce suggests checking his teeth. Dad reads Harry a book about a bear going to the dentist, but when the bear sits in an odd chair, Dad holds the book so tight it ends up crumpled and torn."You had a worse dentist than Dudley," Harry says sadly, remembering how Dudley had screamed before going. Dad doesn't seem to be listening. "Do you have cave-ties?"He'd heard Aunt Petunia tell Uncle Vernon that the dentist warned her that Dudley was going to get black holes in his teeth, but she still gave him all the sweets he wanted.Harry doesn't want to see a dentist, but Beast says he'll do it, and knowing it will be a familiar face helps. He promises it won't be in a chair and suggests the bed, but Harry shakes his head. He just got out of bed, he doesn't want to be stuck there again.On the phone, Jarvis tells Dad and Harry everything that will happen. It sounds like the dentist is going to stick metal things in Harry's mouth, so Harry practices with his new Wolverine toy's fork-claws.Dad lets Harry poke around his mouth with the fork claws, too. Harry peers inside and gasps. "You have orange teeth!"He laughs as he pushes an orange slice in Dad's mouth, but Dad's not laughing. Dad clenches his teeth, shaking and breathing fast until juice runs down his chin. He spits out the orange slice, grumbling that it tastes like rubber.Harry doesn't eat the rest of the orange. Even though Dad's scared of the dentist, he insists Harry have his appointment, and Harry decides to be brave too.Since he can't play it with Dad, Harry plays dentist on his Joker figure, because Joker's the only one with teeth.Dad doesn't seem very scared, though he insists on holding Harry on the couch. Beast crouches next to them, and Doctor Bruce hovers nearby.It's not scary, being on the couch, but Harry still squirms, hoping they don't find another reason to keep him in bed for days.Beast looks in Harry's mouth with a metal circle on a stick. "I'm used to caring for fangs," he grins. Doctor Bruce laughs, but he keeps looking at Beast with something like wonder.Beast brushes Harry's teeth, just like Dad does every morning and night. Beast says Harry's teeth look good, but they'll fall out in a few years. That doesn't sound good."Did your teeth falled out?" Harry turns to Dad, worried."Yes, and my adult teeth grew in." Dad replies, seeming much less scared than when they read about or played dentist."Am I going to get fangs?" Harry asks eagerly. Doctor Bruce says probably not, and Harry nods. His dad doesn't have fangs."When will my arm fall off?" Harry grins, admiring his teeth in Dad's shiny metal hand.Dad snorts. "Stark's arm didn't fall off. Steve's didn't. What makes you think yours will?""'Cos yours did." Harry says. He's going to be just like Dad when he grows up- except for smoking. Harry has long hair now, just like Dad's, and sometimes a star instead of a lightning bolt on his forehead. So why wouldn't he have a metal arm when his falls off?"I hope yours never does." Dad says. "I don't want you to be like me.""We made the dentist not scary." Harry tells Professor X during his next therapy session. "Beast's not scary! Or Doctor Bruce. But he thinks he's scary.""Some people see the worst in themselves." Professor X says."Dad had a really bad dentist.""Were you scared of yours?" Professor X asks.Harry shakes his head proudly. "Doctor Bruce and Beast said I'm a brave boy! I got my shots and I didn't cry!""It's okay to cry." Professor X tells him."But it didn't hurt as bad as Uncle's hits." Harry says. Why would he cry over a little poke and pinch? It seems so silly now.Harry looks down at the LEGOs spread on the dark wood desk- Professor X can't get on the floor to play with him, so Harry climbed into the man's lap and is playing there. He's been busy building a staircase, and puts a door under the stairs. His cupboard door didn't have a window like the LEGO door does. He'll let Dad break this later."Why does Dad write a journal but Steve draws?""Different things work for different people." Professor X tells him."Dad's isn't working." Harry breaks the cupboard apart himself, but doesn't start building. He slips off the professor's lap to get paper and crayons. "But he has his brain back, right?"Professor X doesn't answer right away. "They can't control him anymore. But they took so much from him.""From his brain?" Harry bites his lip. Dad sometimes looks sadder after his times with the Professor. "You go in his head.""I promise, I haven't done anything your dad hasn't asked me to do."Professor X has never yelled at anybody, never even looked angry. He always lets Harry play, and doesn't get grumpy when Logan or Dad are. "You're the grandpa!" Harry announces in realization. "You're grandpa in our mutant family!"Professor X smiles, and Harry wonders how Dad could possibly feel sadder after seeing him.The professor seems to know what Harry's thinking. "Some things are hard to talk about,""Dad doesn't want me to be like him." Harry pauses. Maybe it's because Dad says smoking's bad but does it anyway?"I think he hopes you don't go through what he did." the Professor says."Like HYDRA?" Harry asks, even though he knows the answer. HYDRA is most of the bad guys after them, most of the bad guys who are on the telly now."You're as safe here as you'll be anywhere." Professor X tells him. "And you are much like your father, already. You're brave and kind, and you both love each other a lot."Harry nods. He loves Dad even when he says he can't go fly in the rain. He stands up, wanting to run and tell Dad that right now."He knows you love him," Professor X smiles. "But I'm sure he'd love to hear it again. After we're done.""P'fessor X... grandpa?" Harry grins. "Do you go in my head?""I have not. I would have asked before.""Can you?""I don't believe there's any reason to.""You go in Dad's." Harry says. "Can you find how to make my scar a star?""I usually help with mental scars." Professor X tells him, but agrees to go in Harry's head. The Professor taps a finger to his own bald head, a closes his eyes. Harry frowns, not feeling anything, and then the professor frowns too.Is the professor copying him, like a game? Harry tries waving his hands, but the Professor doesn't. He keeps frowning, pressing harder into his own bald head.Harry swallows, knowing something is wrong. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "You're saying there's someone in his head?" James hopes he's heard the professor's words wrong.Sounds familiar, Bucky comments, unnecessarily, as James watches Harry rub his head in confusion. He doesn't want Harry to go through what he's gone through. He'd been braced to hear some horrible new detail of abuse Harry had suffered, a topic which angers him even more than the tortures he'd suffered at the hands of HYDRA, but would have never guessed this."It's more like a fragment, a memory."Bucky scoffs. You sure you're not looking in this head?The professor sends James a look."Can you take it out?" James is desperate. "Put it in my head, if you have to. I'm used to it." IF HE COULD DO THAT- He would've put that voice away. Bucky interrupts the other voice that relayed the Soldier's orders and directives."I didn't hear a voice." the professor says slowly. "It was more of a presence."James holds his son close, asks Harry himself. "Do you hear a voice in your head?""I want Jarvis in my head, Grandpa." Harry says.Grandpa? Bucky sounds somewhat shocked. He ain't our dad.James grits his teeth. It's not the time. Harry reaches toward James's pocket, which is empty. Stark had given James a StarkPhone that was specially calibrated to respond to both his hands, with full access to Jarvis, but James isn't used to carrying his phone everywhere as Stark and most students do."It's not Jarvis." Professor X clearly agrees with Harry that the AI would be a better option. "It's Voldemort."The name is familiar, and it takes a few seconds for James to place it as the wizard who murdered Harry's birth parents. The Dark Lord. If it weren't for Voldemort, Harry would have grown up loved, and James would be- REPORTING. ASSASSINATING. THE FIST OF HYDRA. Still with those monsters. Bucky agrees. What's that monster doing in our son's head?James turns to his son. "Are you hurt? Can you feel him?""I'm just Harry," Harry is wide-eyed at James' concern, which is even more pronounced than during his recent bout of illness. "I don't want to go back to bed.""How did he get in there?" James asks. It's been over three years since that incident with Voldemort, hasn't it?"I believe it's linked to your scar." the Professor tells Harry. "The night you got that scar, the night Voldemort was defeated, it seems a part of him attached to you."Harry scowls, rubbing furiously at his scar. "I'm just Harry."James sighs. So there isn't a murder's voice telling Harry what to do. Still, James wants the presence out of his son's head immediately.Harry rubs at the star on James' prosthetic shoulder. "Do you have a bad guy in there?""No." James says."I need a star!" Harry takes his Wolverine figure, poking the fork tine claws against his forehead, scratching them over his skin.James doesn't mention that bad guys put the star on his arm, put the arm on him in the first place. He's too focused on Harry, and pulls the fork tines away from his son's head."Let's ask Logan to make it a star," Harry says, looking toward the door, beyond which the real Logan is somewhere."No." James says. He likes Logan, but he'll fight him if he extends those Adamantium claws anywhere near his son's head. He turns to the Professor. "Please-""I have gifts, but I'm not magical." the Professor says, apologetically."Moody, then." James gets up to seek the wizard out, but he isn't sure he trusts Moody around his son's head.The Professor shakes his head. "Moody was a skilled auror, but this isn't something that can be removed with a spell.""Or telepathy," James frowns even deeper. He knew the Professor and Jean couldn't fix everything- they can't fix him- but he's still unhappy to hear it. How can magic do this to a person, but not have a reversal spell?You're sayin' that like they made an easy reversal for us, Bucky says. Science can fry a guy's brain but can't fix it.Harry, however, is full of ideas. "Would the doctors make me stay in bed, if they got it out?""I'm afraid the doctors can't help us here," Professor X says.James frowns. Surely, Doctor Banner would have removed the Other Guy from his own mind if he could.Harry pulls James toward the door. "Where's Mr. Stark? Let's get a mem'ry stick and put the bad guy on. And you can crush it."James smiles humorlessly. "I don't see a port in your head."Harry frowns, considering, and pokes a finger in his ear. He begins to dig in with earnest, face scrunched as he tries to pull something out."Can't reach your brain from there." James mutters, pulling Harry's earwax-infested finger out.Professor X promises he'll try to look for a way to remove it. Harry pulls James from the room, looking for Stark. James snatches his phone from the nightstand and sees a message from Stark, which reads: What are your names?Thought you were the one with memory problems, Bucky teases in James's head.James starts to type, but Jarvis announces that Stark is calling him before he's finished."I meant, changing your names. So people can't track you, it'll give you a bit of privacy. That sort of thing. Plus, neither of you really have citizenship papers here, at least not ones that are suspiciously out of date.""I'm just Harry." Harry sounds thoroughly exasperated. "Where are you? We need a mem'ry stick to get the bad guy out of my head."That makes Stark speechless for a second. "What?"James grits his teeth and explains."Wow. Okay. Who knew that was a thing?" Stark mutters. "I didn't know that was a thing. I mean sure, Bruce has Hulk, but this is... wow. I really wouldn't have pegged you as having a wizard nazi in your head, Harry. I mean, it's not like you act like a power hungry, sociopathic warlock."James huffs- in hindsight, he wishes Harry had some sort of dissociative disorder with multiple personalities, terms he'd heard the Professor use during his own sessions."We need a wizard or witch to get it out." James informs Stark, because he's sure the man's mind is racing to solve this new challenge."We need a mem'ry stick!" Harry insists, clearly frustrated his ideas aren't being seriously considered."Love the thinking, kid, but sadly this isn't a Zola situation. Otherwise I would've sicced Jarvis on this Dark Lord in an instant.""Can we put Jarvis in my head?" Harry asks.From the phone, Jarvis replies "I'm afraid not, Master Harry."James reiterates the information about the soul splitting and attaching to Harry's scar."So we get Logan to cut it," Harry says."Remember what I said?" Stark's voice is suddenly sharp. "No knives kid. Don't want you killing yourself in the process of getting rid of this parasite.""Moody might know something." James reluctantly admits. The man is supposed to be their magical guardian, after all. Even if the Professor says it can't be easily removed, the wizard might know how."Yeah, he looks like he's seen some serious sh- uh, stuff. Some serious stuff." Stark says. "Tell you what, you ask Moody, I'm flying back ASAP. I know Pepper's been after me about this Expo, but come on, I'm saving a toddler from a maniac. That's gotta give me some PR points. Not that I'd tell the press or anything, I hear you're famous enough and I won't exploit you for brownie points."James sighs when he hangs up the phone. It's not quite relief- it won't be relief until they get this monstrosity out of Harry's mind. He knows Stark won't stop, either, until they figure this out.James strides through the mansion with Harry in his arms. Harry leans close to his ear to whisper, rather loudly "I love you even when it's raining."James hugs Harry tighter, but not too tight. That's not something an evil wizard would say. At least the thing in Harry's head doesn't seem to be affecting him as much as the voices affect James. Still, James is almost frantic. He runs into Doctor Banner, who comments that he looks ill.Sure enough, when Doctor Banner hears of the presence, he taps his head and says he hasn't figured out how to get rid of the Other Guy. His self-deprecating smirk turns into a wince as he forces himself to take several deep breaths.James leaves him be. Finally, they find Moody. "How do we get someone out of Harry's head?""Occlumency." the wizard growls, until James explains it's not telepathy like the Professor and Jean. Moody's eye narrows as James tells that it likely entered the night Voldemort was defeated. Moody's magical eye is fixed just as firmly on Harry's head. Can that eye see through into Harry's mind?"Dad. Let's find Logan," Harry says, and repeats his idea of getting his scar changed to a star."I don't want anyone cutting your head," James tells him firmly.Harry rubs his scar. "It is a cut!"James can't argue that the red lightning bolt was a cut when he got it, but he doesn't tell Harry that."His claws are useless against that, boy." Moody growls. James has a sudden mental image of Steve bashing his shield into Harry's forehead. That's useless too."Can you go in his head?" James asks. "Professor X said we need a wizard.""It'll take more than Legilimency to get rid of this," Moody's scowl doesn't leave his face."Do you know how to get rid of it?" James asks, hoping it won't be a no.Moody doesn't shift either eye from Harry's head. "You should ask Dumbledore." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Now probably wasn't the best time to build a tower in New York City, but Tony's never been held up by what other people consider to be good ideas. Besides, he'd contracted it before he'd found a mutant mansion hangout in Westchester.Anyway this tower's already towering in the heart of Manhattan, so it's still worth it. Pretty soon, it'll have its own arc reactor powering it, and be a beacon of clean energy.Tony checks on the construction. He throws out some ideas for the Stark Expo; his Iron Man armor could easily be adapted into prosthetic for amputated war veterans, children born without limbs, and so on. Pepper sends him a knowing look, but doesn't comment.Tony hightails it out of there in his Audi soon after. Nobody seems surprised- after all, Tony's been known to play hooky from his own award ceremonies.Now, Tony's living more of a double life than ever, and he was already a superhero. He'd been a billionaire philanthropist genius for years before, but unlike Harry's beloved Bruce Wayne, Tony's never had a secret identity. He'd been the one to announce to the world he was Iron Man.Now, however, Tony is keeping three identities secret.He figures it wouldn't do for anyone to find about about Harry and James yet, especially when there are still HYDRA agents out hunting them. And Steve, well, he's not supposed to be alive.Tony had been prepared to set up new identities for them, so they wouldn't be recognized at every turn, only to learn over a phone call that Harry's got another secret identity in his head. The very same evil wizard that killed his birth parents.It's quite possibly even more shocking than the HYDRA reveal, which still hasn't been completely cleaned up.All in all, Tony's been busy, and he can't catch a break.Tony scoffs at himself. Harry's the one who can't catch a break. Abused, running from an evil organization, not to mention dealing with magic powers and apparently an evil wizard in his head. Then there's James, who was tortured, brainwashed, and is still struggling to find who he is. Hell, Steve just woke up to find out his best friend- and the whole world- changed without him to the point of being nearly unrecognizable.Really, Tony thinks as he pulls up to the mansion, doesn't he have it easy compared to them? A voice in his head tells him it's not a competition; that the horrific traumas faced by others don't discount his own.The voice sounds suspiciously like Professor X. Tony glances at the mansion. The professor could easily be reading his thoughts, though he'd promised not to.He'd like to think nothing in his head would shock the guy after what he just found in Harry's.Tony arrives to a very heated debate about whether to involve Dumbledore or not. Harry's standing as tall as he can, glaring up at Moody, not the least bit intimidated by the rather unsettling wizard."You want the most powerful wizard on your side," Moody points out. Harry opens his mouth, likely to say Dumbledore is a bad guy. "You act as if I'm suggesting You-Know-Who.""No dumb doorbell guys. No dumb doorbell guys." Harry chants, clearly thinking he's reaching the peak of insulting puns. "Or enemy assets.""Considering Dumbledore sent Snape after you," Moody's eyes shift to bore into James. "I'd have thought he'd recruit you for his cause. I bet you were already protecting Harry, but Dumbledore didn't realize that.""He freezed Dad and flew him away!"Moody tries to gruffly placate Harry. "They won't take your dad away.""You said wizards erase muggles' memories." James states, flatly, just as unwilling to budge as Harry."We don't obliviate any Muggleborn's family.""So, no obliviating anyone here." Tony assures Harry. "That counts me, mad eye. I'm not saying we should call this doorbell guy, I mean, I'm sure there's a way science can solve this. My new tower's going to have a state of the art medical lab, we can run some tests. MRIs or something. Is this a tumor we can remove?"He glances at Bruce in particular. Really, Bruce is the expert of having someone living in his head.Surprisingly, Steve backs Tony up on the technology front. Then again, to a guy from the forties, ordinary tech like computers and cell phones with digital cameras all likely seem like magic. That's not even counting Tony's own contributions of technological genius."If Zola could stick himself on a USB, I'm sure there's a way we can pull this wizard out of Harry's head." Steve says.Harry, of course, had already latched onto the USB idea. He runs to the craft table and makes a crude attempt at a flash drive, shaping the clay into blobby imitation. He mashes it into head, frowning when the clay squishes, then pounds the whole thing into a shapeless lump. He tears off pieces and scattering them over the table."He's dead!" Harry announces, satisfied."He will die," James promises, and Tony's abruptly reminded of his unwilling, if very effective, past as an assassin.Moody clomps into the room and Harry eyes him suspiciously. "Did you ring the dumb doorbell?""I haven't contacted Dumbledore yet." Moody leaves but I should left unsaid."'Cos you can't use phones." Harry snickers suddenly. Moody always eyes phones with a great deal of suspicion."Tragic, isn't it?" Tony says. "Almost as tragic as-""We don't need a old wizard." Harry interrupts. "We have my Grandpa an' my sort of mom. Ms. Jean. And Mr. Stark's gonna build a mem'ry stick."Tony's done the impossible many times- he miniaturized an arc reactor with scraps in a cave, created a new element when said arc reactor started poisoning him, made several Iron Man suits.Removing an evil soul from a child's mind isn't really a problem he ever thought he'd have to solve. He'd much rather be working on a new prosthesis for James, but James would object if Tony prioritized that over Harry.Harry doesn't quit badgering Tony about a real memory stick, evidently realizing his version was pretend. Clearly, he hadn't been listening on the phone, either, and Tony finds himself having to state, flat out, that something is impossible. Harry isn't a computer with a virus or a sentient program that can be debugged or stored on a flash drive.There isn't a whole lot to go on. Tony's woefully uninformed about this magic stuff, and even as one of the richest people in the world, he apparently can't walk into a magical bookshop to buy knowledge without the accompaniment of someone magical."Lead the way," he tells Moody. Moody doesn't.According to Moody, very few bookstores would have information on soul fragments. They aren't common, are in fact some of the darkest magic known.Moody insists that, even with books, Tony would be incapable of implementing anything he read. "You need a witch or wizard.""We have you," Harry says. "Are you a bad wizard?"It takes Tony a second to realize he means incompetent, not evil. Tony jumps in. "Coulson found you, somehow, so I'm sure he can find someone who's not Dumbledore. But I still think there's a way science can solve this."Tony's not one to let someone else solve a challenge for him, and he's definitely not going to give up on science and hand it over to magic. Besides, clearly the resident wizard isn't doing any better than he is.Bruce and Hank inspect Harry's scar under his longer, still messy hair. Aside from being oddly shaped like a bolt of lightning, there's nothing notable about it. Nothing to suggest what's hiding in Harry's head.Harry opens his mouth wide, like he had during his dental appointment, as if they could see the entity from his mouth or pull it like a tooth."There might not be a way to get rid of the guy," Bruce murmurs apologetically once Harry's stopped saying ahh. "Trust me, I've tried a lot of ways, and...""Am I going to get sick?" Harry asks, as the adults scrutinize him."It doesn't seem to be affecting you much," Tony mutters. "I mean, you're pretty damn wholesome kid. Seeing you with your dad, it's hard to believe there's a mass murdering megalomaniac in your mind.""What if I turn into Joker?" Harry's eyes widen. "Will you put me in jail?""That won't happen." James promises. "You haven't hurt anyone."Tony's not great with feelings, but he can sense the guilt coming of James in waves. He sends James a look, which is ignored. James is focused solely on Harry, smoothing the boy's hair- which now resembles James's own- down reassuringly."But HYDRA put a guy in me too," Harry says into James' shoulder."I think he put himself in you," Tony's glad that Harry's young enough that the entendre flies right over his head. Not what he meant at all."Dad says old him's in his head, but he was younger." Harry's face scrunches, more confused about that contradiction than he's been about the murderer in his own head. "You're not a grandpa, Dad.""I'm older than the Professor," James replies, and Harry laughs as if he's joking. "The old me meant the me from before. Bucky."Tony thinks that it's good Steve isn't around to hear that.As they leave the infirmary and make their way through crowded hallways, Harry calls out "Does anyone have hoover gifts? I need a bad guy sucked out of my head!"Several students look at him curiously, and Harry isn't at all hesitant to tell everyone about his situation. Or how his "Aunt Tuna" made him help hoover, and it sucked everything up so surely it could suck a bad guy out.Over the next several days, Harry keeps asking if Dumbledore's coming, stating that Tony will blast him if he does.Harry's own attempts to get rid of the so-called Horcrux become more and more wild. Once, Tony spots Harry crouched next to a small snake, hissing at it. Harry picks it up, bringing it toward his head before James snatches it away.Harry frowns, reaching for the snake. "I asked her to go in my ear and eat the bad guy.""That image belongs in a horror movie." Tony mutters.Harry ignores him, frowning at James. "You let me ask a snake how to get to the Batcave.""That's not how we ended up with Stark." James sounds weary."Is too!" Harry stalks off to begin venting his frustrations by flying on his motor broom. Somehow, he flies high enough to be eye level with the adults, even though the safety features shouldn't allow him to go that high.Harry seems to be trying to crash, dive-bombing the ground and tumbling on the grass, speeding at trees until James hauls him off the motor broom with a glare at Tony for being a bad influence."I'm going to knock him out." Harry protests, shaking his head wildly so his hair flies around."You're going to knock yourself out." James sounds amused, yet still exasperated, as he mutters that soon Harry will try to knock the Horcrux out in other ways and "I'll be pullin' another punk who likes getting punched out of fights.""I don't like it!" Harry insists. "It hurt when Uncle Vernon-""I didn't mean that," James says, his face suddenly murderous. He confiscates the motor broom until Harry can learn to fly safely.Harry plays several games where he hides his Joker figure behind his own head or in his hair before making the hero toys defeat him.Bruce tries to coach Harry in meditation on the grounds it helps him with the Hulk, and nightmares. Harry complains it's too boring and barely gives any effort before running off.By this point, Moody is extremely fed up with their attempts, and hinting even more strongly that they should consult Dumbledore. Tony keeps wondering if he's sent one of those message owls out, but the mansion remains undisturbed by old wizards.Professor X even puts in a good word for Dumbledore, but Harry and James remain unconvinced.Stark Tower is finished sooner than the horcrux situation. Steve's been sketching the outside of it from pictures Tony has shared, seeming far less impressed than others are. The more he sketches it, the less ugly he seems to think it is.Tony brags about how the tower will be entirely clean energy when several students express environmental concerns.Harry exclaims that it's better than any castle ever and asks endless streams of questions. "Is JARVIS there? Is there a basketball court? A Quidditch pitch? A cave? Can we fly there?"He barely gives Tony time to answer, but judging from several people's expressions, what goes around comes around. Tony's having a hard time remembering the boy who was hesitant to question anything.Tony takes Harry, and others, along for the grand opening, when he'll finally hook up the arc reactor. He gives Bruce a tour of the labs, mentions the fully-stocked art studio to Steve.Harry runs around the penthouse delightedly, exploring every nook and cranny and playing hide-and-seek. Jarvis pretends not to know where Harry is, but finds Steve immediately when he joins the game. Harry cackles and James says that Steve's idea of stealth is a flag costume that stands out like fireworks.Eventually Steve sits and sketches the view of the New York skyline. "It's no Brooklyn," he tosses to James as the pencil details the Chrysler Building.Pepper arrives in time to distract Harry as Tony leaves to light up the tower. Tony has Jarvis keep the comm line open, listening to Harry tell Pepper all about their time at Xavier's Institute. They'll likely go back, of course, but it's nice to have a night or two to themselves.Tony would never have expected Captain America would be a part of those nights, but that hardly ranks as the strangest thing that's happened in his life recently.Once Tony lights up his tower like a Christmas tree and flies back, he shares drinks with Pepper, James and Steve. Harry is back to playing hide-and-seek with Jarvis until, suddenly, Jarvis announces "Sir, my protocols are being overridden,"Tony turns to suit up again, but then a call comes through. It's Coulson, not HYDRA.The elevator doors open. Tony's somewhat miffed that the man's here, and that Coulson seems unsurprised to see Bruce. Pepper seems unsurprised to see Coulson, and even calls him Phil. Tony's incensed about that, but he's been waiting for this moment, in a way.Tony smirks as the usually composed Coulson turns into a starstruck fanboy at the sight of one Steve Rogers. "That's right, Agent. I've already assembled most of the Avengers initiative." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "I know you won't eat me now," Harry points at Romanoff when she emerges from the elevator. Last time, in Stark's lab, Harry had been convinced Romanoff was his mother, a witch, coming back to devour him. James marvels at how far his son has come, how much safer he feels about magic in general, even if the Widow is not truly a witch."She won't hurt you," James replies, as much a threat to Romanoff as a reassurance to Harry."I'm just here to chat. No fighting this time," Romanoff agrees. "You saved us a trip to Kolkata.""Guess it's not a super secret boy band if you're in it." Stark levels a look at her. "I remember you saying they shouldn't invite me. Something about being volatile, self-obsessed, not playing well with others."Romanoff glances at the mostly assembled team. "Clearly I was wrong. Are you going to exclude me now?""Nah. I need to set a good example for the kid," Stark glances pointedly at Harry."There's good witches and wizards." Harry tells Romanoff, who had been unaware of magic at the start of her last visit, "But the bad one in my head is trying to eat my brain. Like Dad.""Next thing I know, our lives are actually going to become a zombie movie," Stark runs a hand through his hair. "Though I guess Cap here did come back from the dead."Steve is too busy dealing with Coulson's obvious adoration to comment that he was in suspended animation.Coulson smiles, shaking Steve's hand profusely. "Captain America. You're alive. It's like a dream come true."Steve's eyebrows rise and Stark snorts something about fanboys. Coulson clears his throat. "I mean, it's an honor to meet you, Captain. We were searching for you, of course, but-""I did what dear old dad never could," Stark raises a hand and conveniently forgets to mention following an owl. "Or you and Fury's monkeys. You know, I'm totally going to lord this over you forever."To Stark's obvious annoyance, Coulson does not deign that with a reply. The agent smiles at Steve again. "I can't say how relieved I am that you were found by the right side,"Stark grins, clearly about to gloat some more, but Steve's jaw tightens and he very pointedly avoids glancing at James.I know you're thinkin' about me, punk. Bucky says in James's head. Steve's eyes are full of guilt, and still won't meet his. No doubt wishing he'd been found by HYDRA to spare James."We could really use someone like you, now." Coulson lets go of Steve's hand after shaking far too long."To fight HYDRA," Steve nods, expression growing even darker. "Since I did so well defeating them last time,"'Least you didn't wind up working for them. Bucky's voice sounds far guiltier than Steve. James has a sudden urge to sling an arm around Steve's extremely-broad shoulders. It would feel wrong. His arm remembers Steve's shoulders feeling far narrower and bonier."We're getting them this time," Stark claps an arm on Steve's shoulder. James still hasn't moved to do so himself."Did you find a better wizard to get the bad guy out?" Harry asks Coulson. "Moody can't.""We're dealing with a lot of bad guys right now." Coulson is clearly too preoccupied to truly listen to what Harry is saying."Too many bad guys." Harry nods in agreement, casting an offended look out the window. "Too much HYDRA."James ruffles Harry's hair, though his face is somber in agreement. HARRY IS NOT SAFE UNTIL ALL HEADS ARE SEVERED. "Do you want the Avengers fighting HYDRA?" Potts does not even feign ignorance of group.."Ideally, yes. Unfortunately-" Coulson is quickly interrupted by Stark."We're fighting them already, but they keep popping up like whack-a-moles." Stark pulls up holographic videos of Captain America, Iron Man, and a large green guy that must be the Hulk. Banner looks intensely uncomfortable.Stark gestures to a screen showing a muscular, bearded man with long blonde hair holding a huge hammer high to summon lightning. "Guess that's why you're recruiting a hammer guy for our real life Justice League, huh? So what is it, HYDRA wizards?""He's like Storm," Harry sounds rather unimpressed, having seen her make a tornado in addition to lightning.Banner winces, clearly worried about the mansion's privacy, but Coulson nods."He has similar powers, but he is an alien.""From Space?" Steve sounds almost awed, and James tries to ignore the excitement of the Bucky voice. "Stark said we went to space, but the only aliens he mentioned were fictional. He looks human."Stark gestures almost proudly at Banner. "If you're expecting little green men, we've got a big one right here,"Banner doesn't return Stark's smile, glancing anxiously at the agents as if they'll suddenly whisk him away. Romanoff holds up her hands in a gesture of peace. "We're just here for your help finding the Tesseract.""What do you want me to do, swallow it?" Banner's lips quirk in a wry smile."We want you to find it." Coulson tells him calmly, not projecting any worry about Banner's other form. "We're dealing with a very powerful wizard, and we don't want him to acquire more power.""Dumb-Bell-Door?" Harry interrupts with a look back at Moody.Coulson raises his brows at Harry. "Thor's brother, Loki,""He's after me and Dad," Harry sounds more resigned than scared, though he grips James' prosthesis tightly. "Bad guys always are.""The good news is that he shows no sign of knowing you exist, and, being from another world, has no known connections to HYDRA. He tried to destroy Puente Antiguo last year, and now he's here himself.""So now there's competition for world domination," Banner smiles wryly as he plays with his glasses."That seems to be his goal," Romanoff tells them. "He stole the Tesseract, and the mind of one of our best agents."Her face is still blank, carefully controlled, but James recognizes the concern in her eyes. She cares more about the agent than the Tesseract.James was already wary but now his body goes rigid, ready for a fight. Steve's expression grows stony at the mention of the Tesseract. Sounds like HYDRA. Trust me. LOKI HAS ACCESS TO A CHAIR. THREAT LEVEL: HIGH. Romanoff takes a tablet from Coulson and hands it out to Banner, but addresses Banner and Stark at the same time. "Doctors, we need you to look this over.""Finally, someone remembers my doctorates." Stark mutters."It's sick?" Harry points at Banner. "He's my doctor. He made me stay in bed."Harry's pout turns into an all-out scowl when Coulson gestures to the night skyline and tells them that Harry should be in bed, as he had suggested during their one previous encounter. "Have you set up a consistent sleep schedule for him?""I'm not sleepy!" Harry protests as James scoops him up. Stark, just to be contrary, argues that superheroes don't need Coulson playing supernanny."Bedtime," James states, almost an order.Harry tries every tack to delay- he's hungry, he wants a hug from Stark, and Potts, and Banner. He even quickly hugs Steve's legs, though he shies away from getting a hug in return.Running back to Stark, Harry mentions that he didn't get to see the tower's promised basketball court, ice hockey rink and flying area."Later," James says. He doesn't want to promise too much, doesn't want to promise tomorrow. There are too many threats, and this tower is very conspicuous.James tucks Harry into bed, where his protests become quieter. "Don't leave. The bad guys are out there." Harry stares out at the city below. MORE THAN HE KNOWS. Jarvis helpfully blocks the view, and provides a holographic night light. Harry falls asleep quickly, despite his protests.James smooths his son's long hair again, though he does not run a hand through his own.Jarvis promises to watch over Harry- a bit unnecessarily, since he constantly monitors the interiors of all of Stark's properties as well as watching for external threats. All the same, it eases something in James's still coiled chest as he stands and goes to learn more about Loki.Harry's nightmares have been getting less frequent as they've settled into some degree of safety at the mansion, but James isn't surprised when Harry wakes up from a nightmare tonight. Waking up in a new room, especially, seems to make things scarier.James himself hasn't slept. He is unable to stop thinking about Barton and Selvig, whose minds were stolen, their loyalties forcibly realigned. Coulson said it was recent, and fast. Loki opened a portal, used a scepter to rob them of their agency, as Professor X would say.Coulson reported it was almost instantaneous and appeared painless.James is torn between relief that nobody has to go through the long, torturous reprogramming processes he'd endured, and jealousy. Not that he wants to be wiped into an obedient soldier servant ever again, but the scepter sounds like it would have been vastly preferable to the Chair and compliance conditioning.Even if they'd had the scepter, they would've used the Chair, the thought comes in Bucky's voice.HYDRA did love pain. His pain, of course, not their own.James is almost relieved that Harry has a nightmare. He must be an awful father, to find any positives to his son's fear, but helping Harry helps keep James out of his own head.Someone- Stark or, more likely, Potts or Jarvis- had the foresight to stock the penthouse kitchen with the ingredients for hot chocolate, along with copious amounts of coffee and tea. As Harry helps mix the cocoa, he shares of vague nightmares of creeping hands reaching for brains. Of James's own brain being pulled out."I'll do everything to make sure Loki doesn't steal my brain," James promises, as much to himself as to Harry. He tries not to think about how there's likely little he could do to prevent it, should Loki's scepter be pointed his way.Harry wraps his hands around a cup of warm cocoa."He could take the bad guy out," Harry rubs his scar. Before James can tell him that's his worst idea yet, worse than asking a snake to slither in his ear, Harry adds "but he's badder.""He is worse," James agrees.Harry abandons his cup, racing to the window and pointing at the night sky. "We need the X-Signal to call the X-Men! Jarvis, please?"Jarvis projects a holographic X near the window. Of course, it does nothing to summon the X-Men, but Harry grins all the same."I would be happy to call the mansion for you, Master Harry." Jarvis tells him. "However, I must warn you that it is 3:56 am and the residents are most likely sleeping."Harry nods. "Is Mr. Stark sleeping?"Stark and Banner had left for the shiny new lab, Stark promising something called a geiger counter while dropping terms like "reverse polarity" and "stabilizing agent". Steve had followed, looking confused but seeming determined to strategize.Clearly, Steve will be picking up his shield once more."Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner in the lab, working on tracking the Tesseract." Jarvis replies."What's that?" Harry's brow furrows."The Tesseract is a cube of-""What's a cube?"Ever patient, Jarvis helpfully projects a glowing blue cube, identical to the projection Stark had pulled up during the later briefing, when Harry was in bed."It's a box!" Harry nods in understanding, pointing at the transparent floating model and making it spin. "Is it empty? Is Loki going to put brains in it?""It contains an amount of energy that could be used for world domination.""I have lots of energy!" Harry declares, repeating what Stark had, quite hypocritically, mentioned as Harry ran around the penthouse before Coulson and Romanoff arrived with their bad news."Too much, sometimes," James scoops Harry up, dangling him by his ankles so Harry sees an upside-down view of Manhattan's skyline. Harry shrieks as James swings him around.James stops when Harry is breathless with laughter. Bucky's voice berates James for wearing Harry out. The voice doesn't sound too worried- Harry's breathlessness is due to amusement rather than asthma.Too soon, Harry's expression grows too serious for a child, his eyes seeming too weary. "Are we going to hide from Loki?""Coulson said he was not looking for us." BARTON IS A SPY. IF HE MENTIONS THE SOLDIER- Loki is a myth, like the Soldier. James wouldn't be surprised if he went hunting for an infamous assassin that was viewed as a ghost story by many. James has already proven himself easy to reset. LOKI WILL NEVER BE A HANDLER. James grits his teeth. He wouldn't actually have a say in that matter. His practice with Professor X may provide resistance to the trigger words, but the scepter is another matter entirely.James wonders if the professor would be able to help him reemerge from the Tesseract's grasp, as he had during the exposure therapy to the trigger words. THE PROFESSOR WAS A HANDLER. THE PROFESSOR FREED THE SOLDIER. James glances at Harry- another handler who had tried to relinquish control. Loki, likely, will not be that handler at all."I can fly us on my moto-broom." Harry suggests when James picks him up and heads toward the stairs. The thought of standing in a small metal box, watching doors shut in front of his face, makes his body shiver even if Jarvis keeps the elevator comfortably warm and the box is ten times bigger than the cryogenic chamber.In the lab, Stark and Banner are busy typing lines of code on computers and continuing to drop long, scientific terms that even Harry doesn't ask the meaning of. Steve has a holographic map pulled up, busy pinpointing locations with his finger. Romanoff watches with folded arms."Look who joined the party!" Stark tosses a grin at James and Harry before turning back to his code. "You had hot cocoa already? There's some here if you want it. I don't want you on a sugar high, kid. I know none of us are good examples for consistent sleep schedules, but Coulson's supernanny powers might be right about that one.""I had a bad dream." Harry shares, far more openly than any of the adults in the room would, despite all of them suffering from nightmares as well.James rounds on Romanoff. "Did you tell Barton about us?"If Loki extracts the information from him, they'll have another hunter on their tails.Fortunately, Romanoff shakes her head. "Nothing specific. We've been a bit busy demolishing HYDRA. We started dumping all their files on the internet.""The X-Men are going to kick Loki's butt." Harry grins, swinging his dangling feet. James continues to hold Harry close."Yeah, but the Avengers will help, too." Stark continues to scroll on his computer as he talks. "Superhero teams teaming up, it'll be epic. This sort of thing would make billions in the box office. Not as many billions as I have, but heck, there are already movies about you, Cap.""Bobby and Rogue made one," Harry adds helpfully. Steve had been embarrassed but encouraging, watching their amateur video filmed on the mansion's front lawn."Jarvis made an X-signal." Harry crosses his arms in the shape of the letter."Professor X might be able to break Loki's hold on Barton and Selvig." James glares at a screen, avoiding eye contact as to avoid seeing any pity or sadness.Stark points finger guns at James. FINGER GUNS ARE ENCOURAGEMENT. NOT A THREAT. "Right. And I know I saved Natalie a trip to Kolkata, but it looks like we're heading for Stuttgart." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Predictably, Bucky does not sound pleased that James is staying behind as Steve boards the X-Jet.Someone's gotta watch the punk's six. Bucky argues. Several scenes of having Steve's back flash through James's mind.Steve has a team, James tells the inner voice. Two teams. THE X-MEN AND AVENGERS ARE CAPABLE ALLIES. WE NEED TO WATCH HARRY. "I'm going to fly my moto-broom" Harry announces, clearly relieved that he won't be flying in a jet after what happened in Stark's.Stark sends Harry a knowing look. "You're going to try to follow us to Stuttgart, aren't you?""I can fly there!" Harry protests the word try."It's a thirteen hour flight, Oliver," Stark sighs, and, seeing Harry's blank look, amends his statement. "You'd be flying for a whole day, from when you get up all the way until bedtime."Harry is insistent that he could fly all day, and stay up late since he already got up. Even though he has spent several hours zipping around on his motorbroom, James ensures that Harry fill his days with other activities as well."You said we're all going to Stugar." Harry frowns, crossing his arms petulantly. "We means us too.""Trust me, Germany won't be very fun," Steve tells Harry. He's perhaps the worst person to tell Harry this, because Harry stubbornly insists it will be."It wasn't fun the last time I was there," Steve tries. Harry remains unconvinced."The big kids get to go," Harry points at Rogue, Bobby, Jubilee and a few other students in the X-Jet. "Dudley got to go out with Aun' Tuna and Uncle Vernon. To the park an' the movies an' for food and everything. But I always have to stay!"Stark raises a brow, seeming impressed that Harry pulled the abused, neglected child card. Not long ago, Harry believed it was normal to be left behind on family outings."We're sitting in the jet the whole time," Rogue straps herself into a seat, and Harry doesn't look jealous about that aspect of the trip. "It's not like we'll be fighting Loki.""You have a whole high-tech tower to run around," Bobby is clearly under the impression that Harry has the better deal. Stark looks exceedingly smug hearing this, considering he'd been admiring the X-Jet."Go use the hockey rink." Stark shoos Harry away with a hand.Harry glances up at James. "But you don't like cold 'cos the ice box.""We'll do something special, just the two of us." James promises. With all Harry's jealousy since Steve was thawed, James would have expected Harry to be delighted at the prospect of receiving undivided attention, at having his dad's company all to himself.Harry watches the jet take off, turning invisible even before it rises into the clouds. Like Moody's cloak, Harry points out.Harry slowly turns to James. "Are they going to die?"James does not want to make any false promises, and Harry continues. "They're going to get attacked.""They're on the lookout," James can promise his son that, at least."But bad guys can kill good guys." Harry's voice is now quiet and serious. "Like my mummy, and my other dad. What if he kills them?"James blames Stark for Harry's abrupt shifts in topic. He opens his mouth, hoping to assure both Harry and himself. "Steve's defied death multiple times." So have we, pal. "What about Mr. Stark?" Harry asks impatiently, then exclaims "He has armor! He's Iron Man!"Harry rattles off several defenses of the team- Logan's claws, Storm's tornadoes to suck the bad guys up, Jean's mind powers. He's clearly trying to reassure them both as well. "Does Black Widow have a whip?""No," James frowns. Harry's seen Romanoff fight during their first encounter, where she whipped herself around and tried to choke James with her thighs. "They are all skilled fighters. They can handle themselves.""And you can beat bad guys up." Harry proclaims. "But what if they're magic?"James senses this could continue all day, and reminds Harry "Today's special.""Why? 'Cos they're fighting?" Harry asks. Despite his concern for the team, it's not a new occasion. Stark and Steve have raided HYDRA bases over the last few weeks."Not that." James leads Harry to the gym that Stark had shown off on the tour. "You get to fly inside."Harry's eyes go wide as he jumps in excitement. Soon, Harry is soaring around the large, open area of the gym, trying to roll between the ropes of the boxing ring. James admires the shooting range and takes out some of his energy on some punching bags, and lifts weights.As he careens around the gym, Harry shouts questions to Jarvis. "Did you see me? Look! See me now? Are they there yet?""You're asking if it's bedtime?" James's voice is level as he hoists a weight."No!" Harry shouts, laughing and outraged at the same time. "We didn't even eat lunch yet!"Harry's onslaught of questions continues. Every few minutes, he asks after the team. Where are they? Did bad guys attack? Jarvis answers with unwavering patience, assuring Harry the team is safe and that they are still flying, just like Harry.As much as he loves flying, Harry clearly wants to emulate James. He lifts small dumbbells while gawking at the size of the barbell James is holding over his head."Steve can't lift that!" Harry crows, pointing to the enormous weight."He probably could," James tells him, setting the barbell down."You have your robot arm. Cyborg." Harry tugs at the barbell, which does not move a millimeter. Harry grunts and pulls until he suddenly lifts it."I'm stronger than Dudley! And Steve!" Harry shouts, clearly not noticing that James is doing all the lifting from behind him.James wonders if he's made a mistake. He shouldn't be misleading Harry about his strength, but the smile on Harry's face is worth it.When Harry- or, rather, James- sets the barbell down, Harry announces that he's going to lift it with his magic. He waves his hands and says "Up!" but the barbell remains on the floor.They eat lunch, and Harry inquires about the team every other bite. The news about the team is still good, but the Professor says he's having a difficult time trying to break the control of the scepter. It's not just a mental block (and James's have been tough enough). A foreign entity is interfering with Barton and Selvig's minds. We had foreign entities interferin' too. Or did you forget getting zapped? James ends up snapping a metal fork with his prosthesis. Harry stares, eyes flicking between James's scowl and the shattered fork.After the meal, Jarvis suggests they try some of the video games, though he cautions that children should not have too much screen time. On the tour of the tower, Stark had made sure to show off an entertainment center even more elaborate than the ones at either of the mansions they've resided in.James has seen students at Xavier's Institute playing games ranging from war simulations, futuristic war simulations, sports games, and cart racing games. One popular game with the students involves various cartoonish human and non-human characters brawling with fists, weapons and magic.So far, James has avoided the war games, and ignored Bucky bragging that he could totally own any of them- as well as Bucky's use of modern slang. James knows Bucky is right; he could beat defeat any other players in the shooting games, even if the controls are unfamiliar and nothing like real guns. James is adaptable.One of the systems is called a Nintendo Wii, which makes Harry giggle about loos and poop. According to Stark and Jarvis, the Wii is the most family friendly system. Rather than controllers with joysticks and buttons, like some of the systems, the Wii uses long remotes that are pointed and waved at the screen like wands. Joysticks can be attached separately as nunchucks.Jarvis walks James and Harry through creating cartoonish models of themselves called Miis. Harry's brow furrows when he sees there is no lightning scar option, though he claims "I'm not putting a bad guy in my head.""He's in your scar," James reminds his son, though he wishes he didn't need to. Harry nods slowly, but grows more frustrated that James's Mii can't have a silver prosthesis."He's wearing sleeves." James tells Harry, shaking his head when Jarvis offers to hack into the system to provide the modifications. Jarvis mentions that Stark had felt the need to add his self-proclaimed glorious goatee, so a prosthesis would be no issue.Despite his frustration at the lack of options, Harry insists on making Miis of everyone in the mansion and all the Avengers, even Steve.One by one, a crowd of Miis fills the screen. Harry jabs his new "wand" at the characters walking around a blank white room onscreen. "It's like Steve's painting, but they're moving. Are they in ice?""No," James frowns. Harry frowns in concentration, trying to make Beast but realizing there is no blue skin. Nor is there a wheelchair available for "Grandpa'fessor"."Moody's eye isn't here," Harry remarks, though he does not seem inclinded to make the wizard a Mii, regardless.They ain't exactly realistic anyway, Bucky drawls. When James points this out, Harry laughs."They have ball hands." Harry curls his own hands into fists, swinging them around. "Look, they're walking!""They can play, as well." Jarvis points them toward a shelf full of disc cases.James knows that Bucky had lived in a time where, if one couldn't get baseball tickets, the most they could do was listen to the game on the radio.Now, James and his son can swing remotes and the Miis onscreen will either pitch the ball or swing a bat. Harry, for once, doesn't immediately declare baseball boring, though he does grow frustrated when he strikes out too many times. "Throw your ball hands!" he tells the Mii batters, which don't even have arms in the game.Harry lasts all of five minutes before asking to play hockey or Quidditch.James insists they try the golf, bowling, tennis and boxing before switching discs. Harry waves his "Wii wand" wildly for most of them."Can we play Quidditch?" he asks as his character fails to hit a tennis ball."I don't believe there's a Quidditch game," Jarvis says apologetically, then suggests another collection of games with air hockey. "We have real air hockey as well."Taking the hint that Harry has had too much screen time, James guides Harry to the real air hockey in the rec room. When Harry tires of that, he attempts to whack billards balls with the cue until James shows him how to play. Harry argues he could fly his broom into them instead, then tries to shove the balls with his magic. When that doesn't work, he carries two around as hands.Jarvis reports that Loki has surrendered.The next day, they try out another Wii game with virtual laser hockey, cow racing, a toy tank game, and shooting.The shooting is simple. Even though James hasn't shot with a remote before, it's all too easy to aim it and click the trigger on the back to snipe virtual cans and targets.James guides Harry's remote, though Harry seems to believe he's doing all the aiming. The game is simple, likely too easy even for the untrained students at the mansion. This is nothing compared to sniping the scientist through Romanoff.At the last round of the game, Miis pop up in the grass. Flying saucers come to abduct them, and Harry shouts "It's Loki! He's stealing their brains!"The saucers attempt to steal the Miis' whole bodies, but James snipes them out of the sky with ease.Harry frantically waves his remote like a wand, and the screen suddenly explodes in a shower of sparks. The saucers and Miis disappear.Harry stares guiltily at the TV, going suddenly still. As the sparks die down, he whispers "Did they die?""You merely exploded the television." Jarvis's tone is a combination of amusement and reproach. Likely Stark has broken much more than Harry, though Harry mutters something about Dudley kicking the telly. "The Miis are stored in the Wii itself.""Did we beat Loki?" Harry's voice is a little louder."Loki has surrendered, and the team is due to arrive momentarily," Jarvis pauses as Harry and James watch the real jet descend onto a landing platform. The ramp lowers, James is already backing Harry into a corner. He pulls out one of his many knives as boots descend the ramp to the platform outside. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Harry knows the shiny metal red boots he sees going down the ramp but he doesn't know why Iron Man is walking instead of flying. Storm follows Iron Man out of the jet even though she can fly too.Steve's red boots appear next as he walks down in his Captain America suit.Then Harry sees black boots like Dad's, only they're worn by that hammer guy that Mr. Stark showed videos of. Thor is big with long blonde hair and a beard and a red cape. Next to him, in similar boots, is a thinner man with pale skin and dark hair."Is that Loki?" Harry tries to peek out more, but Dad keeps moving in front of him, blocking Harry's view.Harry knows Loki is the bad guy, but he was imagining someone like the Joker, with an evil smile, or all those HYDRA guys with helmets and no faces. He heard Mr. Stark say Loki and Thor were really, really old but they don't look as old as Dumbledore, or even Harry's Grandpa'fessor.Harry's reminded of himself and Dudley as Thor pushes Loki forward, a hand on his shoulder. Thor doesn't punch Loki like when Dudley played Beat Up the Bad Guy with Harry.Thor starts shoving Loki away and Harry asks "Are you throwing him in jail?""He threw me into an abyss," Loki snaps."You let go, brother. You fell." Thor looks like he might cry, and Harry wonders if he'll throw a fit like Dudley. Steve's face gets tight, too, and he keeps looking at Dad and then looking away.Thor keeps his eyes on Loki. "If I'd held onto you-"Steve looks at Dad again.Mr. Stark looks between Thor and Loki and Steve and Dad. "It's like having another set of you guys around. Except you're not a megalomaniac wannabe monarch, James."Harry's still trying to work out the word Loki used earlier to try and figure out Mr. Stark's."What's abyss?" Harry asks, but before Jarvis can answer, Loki suddenly turns to Harry.Loki's blue eyes seem to look inside Harry, like Dad's, but they don't make Harry feel safe at all. "Imagine the darkest place you can, a cupboard perhaps, and imagine it stretching out for eternity."Harry frowns, picturing stairs getting stretched like clay. Is eternity a fancy way to say clay?Dad actually snarls, even more fierce than Batman. "Don't talk to him." He says it to Loki, not Harry. "If you go into his head-"Harry gives his own scowl and waves his Wii wand at Loki. "If you try to take Dad's brain, you'll get blowed up like on the telly.""Worry not, he no longer has his scepter," Thor points his hammer to a long case that Steve is holding."Dibs! For science!" Mr. Stark grabs for the case like it's the best present ever, wrapped just for him."Careful. It looks like a HYDRA weapon." Steve says."Yeah, so it's not like we're ever going to hand this over to SHIELD." Mr. Stark points the case at the broken telly. "What happened, you threw the remote? I know I live dangerously- I just brought a supervillain here for crying out loud- but even I use the wrist straps.""The bad guy blowed it up with magic."Thor turns to Loki like it's his fault. Harry remembers how awful it felt when Dudley blamed him for things he hadn't done, just so he'd get in trouble.Instead of looking scared, Loki grins like the Joker. "I was busy surrendering. But you..."Loki's laugh is just as crazy as Joker's, too. "The things you could accomplish, with me molding even your mortal magic.""You will not lay a hand on this child." Thor pulls Loki back."You are all children, incapable of taking care of yourselves, of making decisions." Loki sneers like Harry's Aunt used to. "You need someone to make your tough choices and show you the way. You need cloaks to conceal yourselves."Loki stares into a corner, where Moody appears, throwing off the cloak he'd been hiding under. His wand is pointed right at Loki's chest."I knew not of Midgardian magic." Thor turns to Harry, but it's like he's seeing someone else instead, like Dad does sometimes. "This boy looks quite like you, brother, and he is magical. Did you sire a Midgardian child?"Mr. Stark snorts. "Wasn't Loki the mare who birthed an eight-legged-""That is a mere myth." Thor booms, and dark clouds start to show up right outside the window."Young minds are so malleable." Loki still has that Joker grin. Dad moves almost too fast for Harry to see, hurling a knife at Loki while continuing to block Harry. Loki dodges, just as fast, and starts to laugh."Ah, you'll make a wonderful asset to my team of assassins. An obedient puppet to-"Harry and Steve both start shouting. Harry waves his Wii wand, Steve jumps in front of both Harry and Dad, quicker than any turtle, and holds his shield held up to block them. Harry hears Iron Man's repulsors firing up.Thor gives Loki a rough shake. "Still your tongue, brother, or I will use the muzzle."Dad's hands become fists, but not like the Miis' ball hands. His metal arm whirrs angrily."These are the heroes you call to defend your planet? Mindless beasts, pretending to be men." Loki shoots a scary look at Dr. Banner, who looks away, then Logan and Dad, who stare back like they want to hurt him."Beast isn't here," Harry says, loudly and slowly, because Loki clearly doesn't know who anybody is.Logan snarls. "You want to find out how feral I can become, bub?""How desperate are you, that you call upon such misfits?""They're mutants!" Harry says."For someone who surrendered, you're sure acting all high and mighty." Mr. Stark says. "Let's get you locked away."Thor and Miss Romanoff march Loki toward the elevator.Harry wonders if they'll just shut him in there, and not let him go up or down. Then they couldn't use the elevator either. There are so many stairs in this tower but Harry hasn't seen a single cupboard under any of them.Thor pushes Loki into the elevator, but follows inside himself. The doors close."I can fly you down, Dad." Harry offers with a smile.Dad's still staring furiously at the elevator doors where Loki, Thor and Romanoff disappeared, but he asks "Fly me down where?"Harry points down at the city. "'Cos they're in there so we can't use it."Not long after, Jarvis tells them that the group has left the elevator and it's ready for use."I don't want to be like Loki," Harry whispers to Dad."You're nothing like him." Dad promises. "Even if you look somewhat similar.""But what if my bad guy makes me badder and take people's brains?" Harry glances at the elevator. "Then you'll have to lock me up too.""You are not a criminal, Master Harry, so this will not be your fate." Jarvis says as he brings up a holographic video of Loki in a padded room. There's a window looking inside, like Mr. Stark's basement lab by the beach, only this room doesn't have robots or tables or anything. Just a big padded bench.The grownups talk a lot about what to do with Loki, and the Tesseract. Thor shares that Loki has an army called the Chitauri, and none of the grownups to know that word, either."There's going to be another fight?" Harry's tired of all the fights and bad guys. He misses playing with Dad already.Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner have already switched to talking about portals. It isn't quite as boring as when Harry had to listen to Uncle's business dinners, but Harry still doesn't understand most of what they're saying, until Thor and Storm talk about how they can both make lightning."I always have lightning," Harry shares, pointing at his scar."You must be a fine warrior, to have acquired such a scar." Thor smiles at him. Suddenly, he doesn't seem so much like Dudley."The baddest wizard tried to kill me, but I lived." Harry shares, before wondering if Loki's worse than the Dark Lord.Jarvis announces another plane arriving, a SHIELD plane, and Harry wonders if it's HYDRA guys, but then he hears his Grandpa'fessor's voice in his head, reassuring him. Dad and Logan don't look ready to stab someone, so maybe they heard him too.An angry man with a long, dark coat and an eye patch stalks down the ramp."Fury. Hey, we've got two dwarves now." Mr. Stark nods to the new guy and Moody. "I should really introduce you two to Happy. Some of his personality might rub off on you.""Dwarves?" Thor asks, confused. "You people are tiny, but not dwarves."Steve smiles slightly. "Bucky and I saw that picture. It was like magic, even better than the usual cartoons."Steve had said there was no telly when he was a kid, and an adult. Did he lie?Harry waves as his Grandpa'fessor rolls down the ramp in his wheelchair."We have Loki in custody," Miss Romanoff reports.The angry pirate guy, Fury, tells Romanoff that he wants to know how Loki turned men into flying monkeys."Monkeys?" Thor seems just as confused as Harry. "I do not understand.""I do," Steve raises a hand, smiling slightly. "I understood that reference."Harry frowns. "He made them monkeys?""Not literally," Mr. Stark laughs. "It means he took their brains, and is making them do bad things.""Did he put in monkey brains?" Harry asks. Or did their bodies turn into monkeys? They already knew he was a brain-stealer like HYDRA.Miss Romanoff goes down to ask Loki where Barton is and how to get his brain back.Grandpa'fessor goes too, to try and get the bad out of Loki's brain. He hasn't been able to get rid of Harry's bad guy, though.Harry watches them on the screen. Grandpa'fessor has his eyes closed and is probably talking in his head."Where's Loki's scar?" Harry asks. Loki's forehead is blank, like everyone but Harry. Maybe it's on his shoulder, like Dad's, or maybe some people have their bad guys on the back of their head. "What shape is it?""My brother does not have a scar." Thor says.So nobody put bad stuff in him?"Was he always a bad guy?""No. As children, we were playmates, brothers." Thor takes a breath. "We fought together. Now I must fight him, but we are still brothers."Harry never had a brother, but he'd heard his Aunt saying Dudley and Piers were like brothers. They ate snacks together, watched telly, crashed trains and pretended to be heroes. Harry had listened to their laughter, knowing the only time he'd ever get to play was when they needed a bad guy to beat up.Sometimes they'd fight, when Dudley took Piers' snacks."Did you play Beat Up Bad Guys?" Harry asks. Thor definitely beats them up now, with that huge hammer. Dudley had pounded Harry with a hammer from a toy workbench, and once used the toy electric drill on Harry's scar."Aye, we often pretended to slay Frost Giants in our youth." Thor somehow seems both happy and very sad remembering that. He tells another story of Loki turning into a snake, and when Thor picked the snake up, Loki turned into a person again and stabbed him.Even though Harry doesn't want to be like Loki, he kind of wants to turn into a snake. He can already talk to them, but it would be fun to be one for a little bit, but not forever."You believed he was good?" Fury's one eye stares at Thor like he's crazy."He enjoyed mischief-"Mr. Stark interrupts with "Murderous mischief.""Have care how you speak." Thor rumbles. He turns to watch the video of Loki. "Loki was not himself when he fell. I know not what happened to him in the void or how he acquired the scepter, but my brother has yet to return. His true nature has been hidden his whole life,""You mean his true nature of attempting to conquer other worlds." Fury says."Nay," Thor shakes his head."Suicidal tendencies?" Mr. Stark says more confusing words. "Yeah, I didn't forget that part.""His appearance. Given what I know now, I am shocked he is choosing to hide behind blue eyes.""What do you know?" Fury demands, his eye narrowing. Moody human eye does the same."He was born different.""A mutant?" Harry asks. There are some bad mutants, like Magneto, but Grandpa'fessor says he's not all bad. It's confusing, how people can be good and bad at the same time even though they're opposites."A different race from another realm." Thor replies. "Father adjusted Loki's appearance to fit in. His eyes have been green as long as I've known him.""His eyes were blue when he arrived." Fury scowls. "Barton's eyes turned the same blue when Loki invaded his mind."Dark clouds form outside the window again. Thunder booms almost as loud as Thor's voice "Someone has used the scepter on Loki!"Dad's frowning now, but Fury says "You say he got the scepter after he fell. That means he decided to destroy Puente Antiguo all on his own.""I don't think we should be focusing on Loki," Dr. Banner says. "That guy's brain is a bag full of cats. You can smell the crazy on him." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- James's head throbs, the voices inside it drowning the conversation out after Banner's comment about Loki smelling crazy. James is fairly certain Logan voices his agreement, but James does not hear it.THREAT ASSESSMENT OF LOKI: EXTREMELY HIGH blares the one voice, as if James was not already aware.Harry's head is clearly bothering him as well. He rubs his scar, repeatedly, and if he could, James would take Harry's pain for him. He doubts even his headache and Harry's combined would be worse than the Chair, or the feeling of the trigger words tearing his will away from him.James still isn't hearing anything, but he sees Steve sign as his lips move. "You look like you need a nap."Bet the punk sees this as revenge for makin' him sleep all those times he was sick. Bucky's tone is fondness hidden behind exasperation.James didn't know he knew sign language, but he doesn't remember learning Russian, or relearning English when he'd been acquired by HYDRA. He's fairly certain he knows other languages besides those three, but does not know which languages they are.Harry opens his mouth, clearly protesting that only babies need naps until Steve speaks and signs again. "Harry can join you."James twists his mouth. He couldn't get any sleep, with the voice shouting as loud as if it's under heavy fire in the trenches. He realizes, after the fact, that his hands, flesh and prosthesis, are working together to sign Can't sleep.Even if the voices shut up, he wouldn't be able to sleep with Loki nearby. He glares at the hologram showing Loki locked in the cell, his mind being probed and prodded by Romanoff and the Professor. The Professor has been able to help James recover quickly from the trigger words, but judging by the pained concentration on both his and Loki's faces, Loki's mind is an even tougher nut to crack than James's own.Loki has assets and an army and is seemingly the commander and strategist behind the whole operation of invading and conquering Earth. Yet Thor is clearly convinced that Loki has been influenced by the Scepter, that what he'd done to Barton and Selvig had been done to him as well.He sure seems willing, Bucky sounds thoroughly unconvinced. He's willing to do it again, to us and Harry.LOKI WILL NOT COMMAND US. The mission voice sounds oddly reassuring.James can sympathize with Barton and Selvig easily, and hopes that the hold on their minds is broken soon. But trying to imagine Loki in the same possessed state is like trying to imagine Pierce being mind controlled.He has been, and even he wasn't as diabolical as Loki. Bucky points out. Pierce had always been calm, almost gentle occasionally before he'd slap the Soldier across the face. Pierce had never had that crazed gleam in Loki's eye, even if they both are after world domination.HAIL HYDRA rings through James's head, and he scowls. The mission voice is not proclaiming its allegiance as it had before. Pierce had said those words on an international broadcast, undoubtedly under the influence of Professor X.Once James is able to hear past the voices, he almost wishes he couldn't. Onscreen, Loki is practically taunting Romanoff about all the red in her ledger, promising to make Barton kill her before waking up to realize what he's done.From his place next to James, Logan growls like an animal.The noise in James's head picks up again, but it's not the voices this time. He hears screams, pleas, gunshots. Brief silences broken by more terror. Instead of the tower, James sees targets and entire families murdered by his hands.Slowly, the sounds of death are replaced by the Professor's voice in his head, telling him to name five allies in the room with him. James glances around the room. Stark. Logan. Steve. Banner. Harry.James feels a small hand grasp his and he looks down to see Harry staring right back up, concerned. Harry is still clutching his "Wii wand" but their games from earlier seem long ago. James is more used to having long stretches of time- years even- seem moments apart due to being frozen for the duration.Looking up, James catches Steve's gaze. Steve is clearly in the middle of strategizing, yet can't seem to stop glancing his way, just as worried as Harry.Over the video feed of Loki's cell, Romanoff stops fake crying and calmly reports "Loki's after the Hulk. And the Winter Soldier."He's not in the driver's seat anymore, Bucky says. James clenches his hand. He can fight back now, can regain control from the words made to control him."Loki's after me, too." Harry says. James pulls Harry close to reassure himself as much as Harry.Stark is busy questioning Moody about how the Imperius curse works, how to counter it, and whether or not it could counteract the effects of the scepter. The whole conversation makes James twitchy, imagining Loki making good on his promise of turning him into an obedient puppet.Then, Stark opens the case and takes out the scepter.Tony's ready to scan the hell out of this glow stick of destiny and make it tell him all its sweet secrets.Okay, so the secrets really aren't that sweet. The scepter, while interesting, is quite frankly vile. Not as much of an abomination as the mind-wiping chair, sure, but Tony doesn't blame James at all for glaring daggers at the thing.Even taking it out of the case makes the air seem... sinister somehow.James is regarding the thing with extreme suspicion and wariness, and will probably keep Tony from doing anything too risky to it. Bruce also seems to be on team Keep Tony From Prodding the Unknown Alien Artifact Too Much. Thor insists it is too powerful for a mortal."Well, I'm known to do the impossible." Tony shoots a grin around the room. "We need to take it apart to know how it works, then we can reverse it.""It's a stick too. Is it a mem'ry one?" Harry asks. "Are we going to crush it like the Zola stick?""That'll probably set it off." Bruce sounds far more strained than Tony's heard him yet, even more than with the reveal of HYDRA. His eyes aren't turning green yet, but there's something somewhat beastly about his voice."So, tell me what you see, J." Tony lays the scepter on a table."Do you put a mem'ry stick in it?" Harry leans closer until James pulls him away. Before Tony can answer, Harry's asking another question."Is Loki going to take the Queen's brain?""I thought you humans no longer had monarchy." Thor's brow furrows in confusion."We don't," says Steve. "At least, not here."Harry gives Steve a look like he's a baby who knows nothing. "Yes we do! God save the queen!""I will save her if I must," Thor promises solemnly, and Tony can't hold in his laughter."There's only one god, and he doesn't dress like you." Steve sighs and gives Tony an exasperated look. "We don't have a queen in America."Harry's frown is half directed at Steve and half thoughtful, clearly considering something he's never thought about before. "Who's king here in America?"Logan raises an eyebrow. "Tell me you're not going to ask that in history class ten years from now.""We fought a whole war to not have a king anymore," Tony tells Harry, though he's back to inspecting the scepter. "Well, not us personally. Even Cap and James aren't that old."Harry nods slowly. "So now we'll fight a war so Loki's not king?""Looks like it," Steve squares his shoulders, putting on his Captain voice. He had essentially just been in a war a few weeks ago, since it's not like he remembers his seven decade hibernation.Tony glances at James next. He seems sick of fighting for completely understandable reasons, but Tony has no doubt that James will use all his skills to protect Harry."The only sort of king Loki will ever be is Scar." Tony mutters, receiving mostly uncomprehending looks. Harry rubs his own scar again, and Tony rolls his eyes. "Geez, I should've started a movie night policy the day you two showed up at my house. Seriously, I haven't shown you The Lion King? Scar literally is Loki in lion form.""Loki has not shifted into a lion, to my knowledge." Thor says, though he'd been the one who said Loki had shifted into a snake. If Tony didn't know that Bruce could shift into a hulking green figure, he would have said it was impossible."If he's a lion, he can eat the queen." Harry says. "Is she magic?""No." Moody growls. "He'd go after the Minister of Magic.""And the King here?""There's no king here." Steve repeats, starting to lose his patience."Yes there is!" Harry shouts. "Pierce was the bad guy enemy king here!""He was secretary, not king." Fury's jaw is tight. Tony's pretty sure Fury was close to Pierce, which brings up some serious concerns about the intelligence agency's intelligence."He's going to break out, like Joker!" Harry waves his Wii wand angrily, and a nearby chair skids away several feet without being touched. "And Loki's going to break out, too, 'cos bad guys always break out!"Tony's enjoyed watching Harry come out of his shell more, lose that submissive and meek demeanor that his scumbag relatives beat into him, but this seems to be full-on toddler tantrum levels. Tony can't blame him, but it's giving him a headache, anyway.As the arguing continues, Bruce picks up the scepter and Fury barks at him to put it down, reaching for his gun. Harry, who hadn't seemed to notice the gun, yells even louder.Jarvis raises his own volume to report that all of their heart rates and pulses are elevated, and that the scepter is emitting colossal amounts of an unknown energy. It's glowing more than it had before."I'd recommend putting it back in its case immediately, sir." Jarvis says.James snatches the scepter in his prosthetic hand, shoves it back into the case, slams the lid shut, and deposits the case on the other end of the room. When he returns, a bit of the tension in his shoulders seems to bleed from his body.Just a bit, though. He's still so tense that both his shoulders look like metal.Harry, however, is still rubbing his scar. Tony thought that the kid would bounce back the quickest, and then he could kick himself as Harry rubs his scar even more furiously.Sure, let the kid with an evil wizard's soul trapped in his head near the thing that another evil wizard has been using to amass an army of mind-slaves.Great thinking there, Tony."You, uh, don't feel Loki in there, do you?" Bruce asks Harry. From what Tony can tell, Harry hadn't actually felt the Dark Lord in his head.Harry keeps rubbing his scar, but he says "He can't fit, 'cos I'm little.""Little enough to only house one villain," Tony mutters, gesturing to the screen. Loki hasn't made a move to escape yet.From the stories Thor told of Loki, Loki hadn't always been evil. Tony feels like he almost would have gotten along with the Loki that Thor described. The Loki with a razor-sharp wit and a fierce thirst for knowledge.The way Thor told it, Loki had been that way for a thousand years, and had only recently turned into a power-hungry, destructive opponent. Thor clearly thinks it was the work of the scepter, but Loki hadn't had the scepter when sending some Iron Man-esque destroyer robot to New Mexico.But then again, after new Mexico, he'd apparently tried to kill himself in a void. He clearly hadn't been in the best state of mind.Still, it begs the question of what will happen once the scepter's effects are reversed. Will Barton's loyalty shift just as suddenly back to Fury? If Tony's learned anything about mind control, it's that it has some very lasting effects. But then again, James was brainwashed for far longer than Loki or Barton have been."I'm going to take run some tests in the lab. Find what makes the glow stick tick." Tony says, and Bruce gets up to make sure Tony won't blow it up with his tests.James stalks out of the room, muttering that he's going to the gym. Harry doesn't follow immediately, swinging his Wii remote at the case, then glancing guiltily at Bruce as if that will make the scepter explode."Aren't we going to crush it like the mem'ry stick?" Harry jumps, stomping his feet on the ground as hard as he can.Bruce tries to explain that the thing's stronger than a flash drive, but Harry just looks confused and frustrated. "My dad's stronger than a dumb stick. Is it magic?""Whatever you call it, I'm going to understand it soon.""I'm going to the gym," Harry copies his dad's tone, even his gait, stalking out of the room like a mini-James.Tony and Bruce head to the lab. Tony's eager to dive in, and quickly loses himself in work. Jarvis keeps him updated on current tower events- Loki's still in his cell, Professor X goes down to the gym."We know he's skipping leg day," Tony smirks, earning him an unimpressed look from Bruce. Right, the professor's probably going there to lend an ear. Loki's arrival has affected Harry and James the most, and Tony wouldn't be surprised if James is defeating some workout equipment in his stress.Tony's fairly certain the Professor thinks Loki is redeemable- after all, he seems to see the best in Magneto, who has similar views of being above humanity."Guess our Prof X Machina can't solve this," Tony gestures to the scepter. Honestly, he's having a blast talking science with Bruce in a way the others clearly wouldn't understand. Now he just has to get Hank over here to weigh in, and possibly have the Professor mind-probe it when he's done talking with James and Harry.Jarvis's readings are very interesting and more than a bit ominous. There's some sort of powerful object in the middle, which Tony supposes was obvious, but still. It's more than he's gotten from Moody's wand. Tony's still half convinced that Moody was joking about wand cores- though he'd pointedly not mentioned his own. Seriously, unicorn hair and dragon heartstrings?Whatever is in this scepter is more like a stone."Sir, an arrow-" Jarvis is cut off as an explosion shakes the tower."An arrow has struck the building, sir." Jarvis says. "It exploded before I could notify you, and Captain Rogers has asked what you're doing down here.""You know it wasn't me." Tony replies, already calling up a suit and glancing at Bruce, who's breathing heavily but has the presence of mind to leave the lab. "Looks like Barton's coming to crash the party." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- James focuses his punches with his right hand, because if he sees his prosthesis punch through a bag, it's going to bring forth images of it breaking people's faces instead of padded leather.He stops himself, just to ensure he can, and lowers his fists to his side. He hasn't been able to say much to the Professor, but one benefit of a telepathic therapist is that words aren't needed. At least, not out loud.The Professor is trying to help ease James's mind about Loki, and is giving Harry's concerns equal value, though Harry asks about the medicine balls just as much as the recent events with Loki. "Are they Bludgers? Quaffles?" He hoists one of the lighter ones into the air and starts to carry it to his motorbroom.James's mind is far from eased. He can fight the trigger words now, but what use is that against Loki, who seems to use a whole other level of mind control.Part of James wants to take Harry and flee, to disappear rather than stay in the same tower as Loki, but he's painfully aware that, no matter where they go, somebody will find them.As Harry zooms by on his broom, he offers again to fly them to their safe house. Yet HYDRA had found Xavier's Institute. Many of the X-Men are here in the tower, meaning they would have fewer allies in the mansion. They might be safer here, despite sharing the tower with, as Harry says a brain taker.With Loki and HYDRA vying for world domination, nowhere they go will ever be truly safe.As James thinks this, an explosion shakes the tower gym.James's prosthesis whirs, the plates rippling as it clenches into a fist. Surely Loki's escaped, or Stark has blown up the scepter in his lab.There is no blaring alarm, thankfully. Instead, Jarvis reports that an arrow has struck the tower and Barton and several agents have entered. The only good news is that Loki is still in his cell, being constantly monitored, and the scepter is intact.According to Jarvis, Barton and the other agents have infiltrated a few floors above the gym and are busy fighting Romanoff, Steve and Logan.James still grabs a large barbell, ready to fling it at any intruder. He distantly hears the Professor say, in his head, that such a method is too violent, too lethal. James doesn't want to kill, not anymore, but if it's between killing a HYDRA agent and being recaptured,Then, a roar shakes the floor, loud enough to be heard from several stories away."Hulk." Xavier explains, closing his eyes, clearly trying to form a link with Hulk."Hulk's a good guy?" Harry checks, glancing at James. He attempts to lift a small free weight, then drops it and clutches his Wii wand.James doesn't know if the Hulk is on their side or not, but a more pressing issue presents itself.Barton drops out of an air vent, not quite catching James by surprise, but dodging the weight hurled at his head. He unslings the bow hanging over his shoulder. Despite the tense situation, Bucky sounds amused. A bow? Those were outdated back when I was active, pal.Harry waves his wand furiously, shouting "Go 'way, arrows!" It is not as effective as when he'd unintentionally disarmed Romanoff. One arrow drops feebly out of Barton's quiver. A more vigorous wave makes an arrow shoot upward. Barton grabs the arrow from midair, nocks it in his bow, and fires.Barton's aim and speed with his bow easily rivals James's own marksmanship. James's prosthesis is the only thing stopping him from being pierced, and he flings the arrow away in case it explodes.James leaps at Barton, who dodges behind a treadmill, then vaults off of it too retrieve his arrow from the ceiling.James wants to shout at Harry to run and find somewhere to hide, but it sounds like Banner's still rampaging somewhere as the Hulk. Harry could run into the other agents or, even worse, Loki."Get behind the ring!" James orders, but Harry does not listen. He's flying toward them on his motorbroom, struggling to hold a medicine ball with one hand. The weight of the ball makes him lose his balance and he topples off the motorbroom onto the floor. An easy target for Barton.Barton turns toward Harry as the ball rolls to James's boot. James hurls it at Barton, who spots it coming and ducks just in time.Barton uses the large gym to his advantage, keeping his distance and climbing up a rope for a better perch. He is far more impressive a fighter than other enemy assets- namely Snape- were, despite not appearing to have any magic. His weaponized sticks are all projectiles, and when James corners him on the ground, he uses his bow as a quarterstaff.Romanoff drops out of the vent, wrapping her arms around Barton's neck. James punches him in the head but holds back, not wanting to kill him. Barton has no more say in what he does under Loki's control than the Soldier had under HYDRA's, and despite Loki's threats to mess with Harry's magic, Barton had not attacked Harry.Barton goes down with the blow, groaning, and Romanoff rolls off his shoulders but crouches, ready. Barton's eyes are no longer the blue of the scepter, and they soften slightly when they catch sight of Romanoff."'Tasha?" he asks. His eyes travel to Harry, bruised on the floor, and widen, concerned.Romanoff kicks Barton in the head, and he goes down. A hearing aid slides across the floor. He's alive, but unconscious, though Harry clearly doesn't know the difference, nonchalantly asking if Romanoff killed him.Romanoff's face is blank, but James knows she would be devastated to lose Barton.James glances back at the Professor, who had backed his chair off to the side during the fight. His expression is far-off, his mind clearly somewhere other than the gym. Despite all his telepathic powers, the Professor could not break the control of the scepter, yet a solid blow to the head seems to have returned Barton's mind to him.If a punch had been enough to break the Chair's effects, well, the HYDRA handlers would have seen different results during compliance conditioning.Romanoff picks up the hearing aid and starts to haul the unconscious Barton off, saying she'll check his allegiance when he wakes.James kneels down, checking Harry's injuries. He's bruised from his fall, but it's no worse than the injuries he'd sustained on other flights."Don't ever do that again," James tells him sternly. "I told you to hide.""But it's medicine!" Harry argues. "It makes the sick stop. And gives brains back."If the ball had hit Barton in the head, it likely would have had the same effect as a punch, but Harry doesn't need to know that.Harry would likely try throwing it at Loki next."I don't want you getting hurt." James says."I don't want you getting hurt!" Harry says back, furious tears welling in his eyes. "Nobody hurts my dad!""I'd hurt more if you were hurt." James pulls Harry close. "Stop doing dangerous things."Even though Harry and Steve are not particularly close, they share a similar trait of stupidly throwing themselves into danger. The Bucky voice would probably be amused if he wasn't so worried about Harry and whatever Steve is up to now.Punk's probably throwing himself at the Hulk. Bucky is clearly itching for James to go check on Steve, even though he's no longer ninety-five pounds and with a long list of health conditions.James knows Jarvis can't hear Bucky's voice, but Jarvis answers all the same "Captain Rogers has just neutralized the agents that accompanied Agent Barton. Mr. Stark and Professor X have talked the Hulk back into Dr. Banner, but not without some significant property damage. Loki remains in his cell. He attempted to trick Thor into thinking he escaped until I informed him Loki was casting an illusion. Mr. Moody is keeping his eyes on Loki as well."All in all, it could have gone a lot worse. Barton was likely trying to set Loki free, but they set Barton free instead.It would be best if Barton wakes up to a familiar face. Romanoff sits beside the bed where Barton lays unconscious. The bed is angled, more like a chair. When she'd brought Barton in, Romanoff had started to strap his arms down. The sight made James's breath come out harsh, his body rigid despite there being no metal halo above the bed.James and Harry wait in another room, behind a one-way mirror. Not even Barton's sharp eyes would be able to pick them out."Is all his bad out?" Harry asks for the tenth time as he rolls the medicine ball around the floor. He swings the Wii wand at it, trying to make it roll on its own, but nothing happens."Seems to be," James replies. "We can't be sure until he wakes up."The Professor has not probed Barton's mind to check, claiming he's been invaded enough recently and has not consented."Why's he sleeping?" Harry pokes the glass. "He's a grownup. Grownups don't take naps."James recalls at least three assassinations that would disprove that, the napping targets unaware that they'd never wake up."They do if you hit them hard enough." James says. He never liked bullies and doesn't want Harry to learn the wrong lesson. "Don't hit people to make them go to sleep.""You did,"We don't hit you at bedtime, Bucky says, then swears colorfully, sounding guilty. James does not voice that thought aloud.The medicine ball thunks against the wall separating the two rooms. Harry does it again. "When's he going to wake up?"Barton groans in the other room, squinting before opening his eyes. James watches Barton's eyes do the familiar scan for threats, allies, weapons exits. Barton grimaces, clenching his fists, and his forehead shines with sweat.James hears Romanoff tell Barton he's going to be all right. "You know that?" Barton echos in disbelief."Have you ever had someone take your brain out and play? Pull you out and stuff someone else in?" All the time, pal. "You know what it's like to be unmade?" Barton asks, almost demands. Romanoff remains calm."You know that I do," Romanoff had even told Loki, during the interrogation, of how Barton had been sent to kill her but made a different choice.Romanoff glances at the one-way mirror. "But I know someone who knows even better than I do."James takes his cue from Romanoff, stepping into the room. Barton's gaze fixes on James, boring into his eyes, likely assessing if they're tesseract-blue. James knows his own eyes have some gray in them, aren't the same color as the brainwashed agents' or Loki's."I fought you." Barton tells James, unnecessarily. His memory isn't quite that bad. "You're on our side.""I'm won't work for SHIELD." James says, tone flat. Barton had recruited Romanoff, but he won't recruit James.Barton snorts slightly. "I'd be worried if you wanted to, at this point. Seems half of SHIELD was secretly HYDRA."He grimaces as if smelling something foul. "How many of our agents did I-""Don't." Romanoff cuts him off immediately. "Don't do that to yourself. This is Loki. This is monsters and magic, and HYDRA. Nothing we were ever trained for."Barton's eyes dart back toward James. Clearly he hadn't missed how Romanoff had been speaking to both of them.In 1.2 minutes, Barton's already said more about his time under Loki's control than James or Logan have shared about the Winter Soldier or Weapon X programs in weeks."You got him out of my head." Barton says to James. "How'd you do it?""Cognitive recalibration," Romanoff says. It sounds like- THE CHAIR. Barton's brow furrows, and Romanoff explains "We each hit you really hard in the head."Part of James is still jealous it was that easy, but he's glad Barton didn't lose himself permanently. It appears Barton has been repaired, re-made. There was enough left of him to return.Too much of Bucky has been wiped out. The Professor confirmed that Bucky is a memory, an echo, not enough to become a person again. Even if Bucky had somehow made it back fully, Professor X had stressed to both Steve and James, he wouldn't be the Bucky that Steve remembers. Becoming a parent changes people.James wonders what would have happened if HYDRA had used the scepter to control him rather than the chair. He pushes the thought away. There is no use thinking of what-ifs.Harry bursts through the door without knocking. "Is all his bad out?"Barton stares at Harry, eyes quickly cataloguing his bruises. "Did I knock you off that- whatever it was?""I fell," Harry says carelessly. "Does Dad need to punch you again?""No, I'm good." Barton huffs and turns to James. "You've got a mean swing. I've heard you have wicked aim too. When all this is over, ten bucks says I can beat you at darts."Ten bucks?! Bucky's probably remembering how much that was in the forties."Aun' Tuna hit me with a pan and I waked up in my cupboard." Harry rubs the back of his head this time, mussing his long hair with a petulant pout. "Why's my bad guy still in my head?""Loki's got you too?" Barton stares into Harry's green eyes."I have another bad wizard."Barton winces in sympathy and turns to Romanoff. "When Coulson gave me the crash course on magic, well... I didn't expect mind control."The words are light, but his tone is heavy."Thor says Loki's being controlled too."Barton scowls and thinks. "I don't like the bast- bad guy" he quickly censors himself in a way that indicates he's familiar being around small children. "When he first showed up through the portal, he was sweaty and shaking. Pale."Just as Barton is, now.Barton doesn't need to say more. James is familiar with torture, and he's sure the two agents are as well."I don't think he's the head honcho." Barton mutters, clearly unhappy about the fact. Harry rubs his head again, confused, and Barton cracks a minuscule smile. "The big boss. The person upstairs. At least, not this time. But he's going to make his move soon. Today.""He's still locked up," Romanoff glances at the ceiling, and Jarvis confirms that Loki is still in his cell."If we hit Loki, will his bad come out too?" Sure enough, Harry looks back toward where he left the medicine ball before looking at the ceiling as well. "And then there's no war?""It's worth a shot," Barton says with a frown. "If it doesn't work, well, a shot from my bow might do the trick. And help me sleep at night." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Dad needs to hit Loki's head really, really hard!" Harry tells the other superheroes, trying to hold the medicine ball and point to Mr. Barton at the same time. "It made his bad leave. Only it didn't work when Uncle Vernon tried to wallop the freaks outta me."Logan growls at that. Mr. Stark looks angry, and the new guy, Mr. Barton, holds his bow tightly.They were not trying to help you, Harry. Grandpa'fessor's voice is inside Harry's head now, not outside. He's somewhere else, not in the room, unless he's invisible like Moody can be. They hit you to hurt you."Did you get hurt when you got hit?" Harry asks Mr. Barton, out loud instead of in his head."A mighty blow freed you from the scepter?" Thor pounds his big hammer into his own hand. "Mjolnir did not free Banner from his berserker form.""But if it does free Loki, he'll go back to normal?" Steve asks, folding his arms."Aye," Thor says, seeming hopeful."That's not super reassuring, considering your childhood stories involve him literally stabbing you in the back." Mr. Stark says.Mr. Fury still seems angry, but he agrees with Steve and Mr. Stark. "And your adult stories involve him leveling towns,"Thor is quiet before saying "He's adopted.""What's adopted?" Harry repeats the word carefully.Mr. Barton crouches to be Harry's height. Harry smiles. It's nice not having to look up at all the adults."Adopted means that your birth mom and dad couldn't take care of you-""They died." Harry shares.Mr. Barton winces and says sorry, even though he didn't kill them, the bad wizard did. "So someone else chose to be your dad."Harry grins and squeezes his arms around Dad's legs. He tells Mr. Barton and Thor about having a whole X-Family now. "Mr. Stark's my other, other dad, only Ms. Jean's not my other mum. But I have a grandpa'fessor, and Logan, and a big blue doctor." Harry sighs. "And Steve.""Yeah, he and your dad were like brothers." Mr. Barton says."I wish Loki took the news as well as you." Thor tells Harry, sort of sadly. "No matter what Loki may believe, he will always be my brother. The scepter hold on Loki may be hard to break."Harry holds up his medicine ball, almost dropping it on his head. Dad snatches it out of the air and says "No.""It's not medicine." Mr. Stark laughs, and Harry scowls."You're not that doctor," Harry reminds him, because Mr. Stark said that himself. He's some other kind of doctor that doesn't help sick people, even though that's what doctors do.Harry looks around for Doctor Banner or Doctor Beast, but neither are here right now."Doctor Beast said I'm the doctor and it's medicine." Harry reaches for the ball, but Dad holds it out of reach."He didn't say that." Dad tells him."Yes he did!"Mr. Barton starts laughing too. "Oh boy, the bluffing stage. You're in for it now, Stark.""Yeah, and some people never grow out of it." Mr. Stark shoots a look at Miss Romanoff for some reason."Give it, please!" Harry stands on his tippy toes reaching for the ball, but Dad keeps it out of reach. "I'm going to heal Loki. Take his bad out. And then he has to stay in bed so there's no war.""I have no doubt you're a fine warrior," Thor tells Harry with a wide smile, in a way Dudley never smiled at Harry. "But leave this to me."Thor strides off with his cape billowing. Harry asks Jarvis where his and Dad's Robin and Batman capes are."I thought you hung up your cape. That you didn't want to be a superhero anymore," Mr. Stark says."But I have to, 'cos there's so many bad guys." Harry sighs. "And Dad was going to get hurt.""I told you," Dad squats to look Harry in the eye, even more serious than usual. "I'd be hurt more if you were hurt."Harry squints, confused. How could Dad be hurt more if Harry stopped him from getting hurt?Dad lets out a breath and runs his metal hand through his own hair. "Don't fly your broom into battles. When I tell you to hide, you hide. Like with Jarvis.""If I were your dad, I'd take your broom away." Mr. Barton glances from Harry to Dad.Harry glowers. "You're not my dad.""No motorbroom for the rest of today." Dad tells him. "Or tomorrow.""No! I need it!" Harry cries. He tugs Dad's hand, hoping he'll change his mind.Harry feels something hot, like when his scar's on fire, only it's in his chest. Dudley would have screamed and shouted until he got his way. Harry wants to scream too.He stomps his foot as a test. He got treated like Dudley when he was sick, all tucked in and cared for, so maybe he can get away with this.Harry starts to stomp toward the elevator, ready to go back to the gym to get his motorbroom, but Dad pulls him back, still crouched down.With a shout, Harry rams his head into Dad's metal shoulder, pressing his lightning scar against Dad's star. There's no shock like when Storm shoots lightning; instead, Harry's head hurts and he sees weird colors.Dad scoops Harry up over his shoulder, still keeping the medicine ball out of reach, and carries him into a bedroom.Jarvis speaks from the ceiling. "I trust I need not inform you that spanking is considered an unhealthy discipline technique?""I'm not going to hit him," Dad mutters, then looks into Harry's eyes. "I'm not going to hit you. Ever. Besides, you're hurting yourself enough." "Time-out is an appropriate discipline technique for toddlers. Many parents designate a space- typically a chair- to act as the time out location." Harry can feel Dad's skin hand trembling, though his metal hand stays still. He's not really looking at Harry anymore. "My sincerest apologies," Dad's still shaking, and after a bit he shakes his head. He looks at Harry again. "I'm not going to shut you away somewhere. You've had too much of that already.""You do not need to 'shut him away' anywhere. The cells here are not for children. You merely need a safe area where Master Harry can be alone and calm himself down."Harry was by himself in the cupboard, except for the spiders. He liked being left alone there, but he didn't like being hungry, and he starts to wonders if Dad won't give him dinner."I'm won't take food away either." Dad says. "Just your motorbroom. As long as you're safe with it when you get it back, I won't take it away again.."Harry wants his motorbroom back so bad. He stamps his foot again."You know better ways to get your mad out. You've shown me some. You can draw. You can punch a punching bag or a pillow." Dad reaches for the pillow on the bed and passes it to Harry. "Stay here."Dad walks out of the room, leaving the door open a bit, so Harry can see the crowd of superheroes standing in the sitting room."You're a bad dad!" Harry yells after him. He doesn't get it. Uncle Vernon never said "no" to Dudley. Dudley fought a lot. He hit his parents and hit Harry with toys until they broke. Dudley always got a new, better toy, and Harry always got in trouble for breaking things."Master Harry, I want to stress that you are not in trouble for having these emotions." Jarvis says, as calm as always. "It has been a chaotic couple of days, and it is quite understandable that you have big feelings you don't know how to handle. Some quiet time will help you calm down.""Would I be in trouble if I throwed a fit like Dudley?" Harry knew better than to try it at the Dursleys', or even ask, but here he's loved like Dudley was."I would not advise behaving in such a manner. Since you are four, I am going to set a timer for four minutes." Jarvis shows a hologram and Harry stares at the numbers in confused anger."That's three and five." Harry jabs the floating numbers. The four's supposed to be in the middle, and the number after the five keeps changing.Jarvis doesn't answer with words, but two holographic bulbs appear next to the numbers. See-through sand falls from the top bulb to the bottom one. Harry sticks his hand through it, trying to get the clear sand to fall faster, but it doesn't work.He climbs on the bed to jump. It's not quite flying, but it's something he never got to do at the Dursleys. He jumps until Jarvis tells him that the timer won't start until he's sitting calmly.Harry flops onto the bed to watch a bird fly past the window, and imagines flying over the city when he gets his motorbroom back.Tony tries to ignore the memories of Howard casting him away, dismissing anything he did and generally treating him as a nuisance.That's not what James is doing here. Tony's not entirely sure what James is doing, and it seems James isn't either, but Jarvis has been researching parenting. With Jarvis's help, Tony figures they can't be screwing Harry up too badly. Not that any of them are shining examples of well-adjusted adults.The fact that Harry felt safe enough to start a tantrum seems like something to celebrate, but Tony certainly doesn't want Harry to become like his descriptions of his cousin.James slips out of the bedroom, moving as silent as a shadow to stand next to Agent Barton. He trusted the agent surprisingly quickly considering their first interaction was a fight. Then again, Logan isn't exactly easy to get along with and James is chummier with him than with his long-lost buddy Steve.Tony snorts at his own mental description. James isn't chummy with anyone, not even Harry.He notices Barton studying him, and gestures to Barton's bow. "Hey, Legolas. If you want an upgrade from the middle ages, all you need to do is ask."Barton doesn't rise to the bait. "I'm surprised you hid a kid from the press. I mean, you announced you were Iron Man.""You're surprisingly comfortable around kids. Have you and Coulson been watching Supernanny together?" Tony counters. Seriously, the guy seems more at ease with a preschooler than any of them. "Not to mention, you're surprisingly invested in his privacy."Barton shrugs noncommittally, face impassive, but Tony's starting to suspect he's not the only one keeping secrets. Not that spies keeping secrets is a surprise by any means.Tony's thoughts are interrupted by the ding of the elevator and the doors opening. Professor X rolls out, followed by Thor, who has his arm draped over Loki's shoulders.Suddenly, Harry's punishment seems inconsequential compared to whatever Loki's will be.Several people in the room immediately tense up, and Barton slips on a pair of shades that aren't as cool as Tony's.Tony asks "You want a drink?"Not waiting for an answer, he saunters over to the bar, pulling decanters off the shelf. He pours several glasses and throws Logan a beer, even though he has much better alcohol.Thor seems reluctant to let go of Loki, but eager to try the scotch. He pronounces it weak compared to Asgardian mead, and Tony makes a show of acting personally offended."I'm going to be good now!" Harry announces as he bursts out of the bedroom. His time-out or whatever must be up, because Jarvis and James don't tell him to go back. Harry skids to a stop, suddenly noticing Loki's arrival, and asks "Are you good now? Is your bad out?"It's childishly simple, yet Thor also insists that his brother has returned. Harry accepts the news easily."My turn!" Harry insists, staring at Loki. "He's magic and you got his bad out! So now we get my bad out and I'll never be in trouble again."Loki's green eyes aren't as crazed, but they seem to see into Harry, and he reaches out a pale, slender hand.James pulls Harry away with a murderous glare, clearly not ready to trust Loki near his son."He has a parasite," Loki says. "Nothing you mortals could remove without serious injury.""If you lay a hand on him-" James leaves the threat hanging, the servos in his prosthesis whirring ominously."First show us you're on our side," Thor says, pulling Loki back."I'd advise you be on your best behavior," Tony tells Loki sternly. "If you aren't, we've got a whole team here who can pummel you into the ground."Tony glances at Harry and hastily adds "Not you, kiddo.""Ah, so I get treated to your especially tender hospitality." Loki smirks. Now that his eyes are green, his resemblance to Harry is more unsettling. "Or did you threaten Agent Barton as well?""How come you get locked up for fighting?" Harry asks out of nowhere, seeming more cautious of Loki than scared."Because he did a bad thing." Tony says. Most of them have, honestly, but Harry doesn't know their whole histories.Harry seems more confused by Tony's answer. "But Dad's not locking me up,"Thor is gazing meaningfully at Loki. "You may be able to lessen your sentence, if you help us stop the invasion.""That you brought," Barton points out, though with less heat than Tony expected.Neither Thor nor Loki acknowledge Barton. Thor is still focused intently on Loki. "Show that you were not in control, that you are in control now.""He still killed people before, when he was in control." Fury's eyes bore just as deep as Loki's."And you haven't?" Loki asks, with an imperiously raised brow. He'd spouted off Romanoff's dark past and hinted at James' time as an assassin. It's unsettlingly possible that he knows all of their secrets.Tony pinches the bridge of his nose. Loki's got a point. They all got second chances, and it's only fair if Loki gets one as well. Combined, they may have killed more people on Earth than Loki has.The elevator dings again, and Coulson joins them. "SHIELD has a habit of looking past people's pasts,""And looking past HYDRA." James keeps his voice deadpan. Coulson is normally unflappable, but he looks rather ashamed about that. Fury looks as angry as ever."So if I help you fight, I walk free?" Loki asks. "I could break out, of course, but-""Why does he get to fight?" Harry demands."Because he's a grown-up." Coulson explains, simply. "You're not old enough to be a soldier.""Or drive," Steve adds."I'm old enough to fly!" Harry boasts, and his face falls comically as he remembers he's not allowed on his motorbroom. He starts to whine again, "I want to help save people,""You don't want to be a soldier," James says with his usual thousand-yard stare. Thor looks like he'll refute Barnes on that, but chooses not to say anything.Barton crouches to be on Harry's level again."I know you're surrounded by heroes, Harry. Seems like your family's full of them." Barton must be looking around the group, though he keeps his shades on. "Is there anyone in your family who isn't a superhero?"James gestures to himself, and Harry frowns, clearly disagreeing. He thinks for a moment."My Aunt and Uncle weren't." Harry says, and Barton nods."They sure weren't. I meant in your adopted family.""My X-Family's all heroes!" Harry spreads his arms and legs out like an X. It's a ridiculous pose, but Harry stands confidently."Exactly. Of course you want to be a superhero, being surrounded by heroes. But there are so many other things you can be, right now.""Like an engineer," Tony offers. Quite frankly, the best part of being Iron Man is making the suits. And flying, but he won't mention that to the kid whose broom's been taken away."On a train?" Harry asks, not particularly enthused. It's been a while since he talked about Thomas or trains. Batman had taken over, and since they've been staying at Xavier's school, he's been all about superpowers and sports in an effort to fit in with the big kids."I meant building things," Tony lists off examples. "Like your safe house, or the armor for the toy me. You're a creative kid.""Or drawing," says Steve. "Sports."Harry climbs atop one of the bar stools, hoisting himself onto the countertop.James offers his own praise, stating Harry makes good hot cocoa and he could aspire to be a baker instead of a hero.Harry reaches for one of the glasses on the bar.Thankfully, Jarvis had thought ahead to stock the bar with apple juice. "This is the kid drink," Tony clarifies, pouring Harry a glass. "None of the big kids can have what I'm having, either."Barton snorts, clearly figuring Tony hadn't been one to follow alcohol age laws.Once Harry's finished with his juice, Tony shoos him away to play Wii or build something. Really, Harry needs to focus on being a kid, and let the adults worry about saving the world. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Harry seems to have forgiven James for implementing time-out, but still, part of James feels guilty. He'd witnessed the Dursleys give Harry time-out in the cupboard.The bedrooms in the tower are, if possible, even more grandiose than the bedrooms at Xavier's Institute or Stark's mansion in Malibu. James does not remember any of the Brooklyn apartments that Bucky had lived in, but Steve had commented that bedrooms now are bigger than entire apartments they'd lived in before.Rich people bedrooms, anyway. Bucky notes. The smaller buildings visible from the window clearly have smaller apartments, many of which are likely the dimensions Steve described. We're in the lap of luxury.Keeping Harry safe had already been a full-time mission, but Harry's making it harder, and James doubts that time-out will magically fix the issue.He glances at Steve, who had spent a lot of time out sick and would be back to scrapping in alleys as soon as he was well enough to go out again. Harry has the same stubborn streak as Steve.James half expects he'll be dragging Harry out of fights his whole life, just as Bucky had with Steve.For now, though, Harry asks to play Wii. THE WII HAS BOXING, The Wii might not be the best choice if he's trying to convince Harry to stay out of fights. James wonders if he should confiscate the Wii remote. Harry had tried to use it as a weaponized wand twice, on both Barton and Loki.Would Barton suggest confiscating it like Harry's motorbroom?Before James can ask, Jarvis shares that too much screen time is not healthy for development, and Harry has already played the limit recommended by doctors.Harry asks if he's in trouble, and clearly doesn't get why doctors would say it's bad. "Can I ring Doctor Beast?"Beast confirms that Harry should play with something that doesn't involve screens. Harry huffs about doctors being no fun, making him stay in bed and not play."There are plenty of things to do, Master Harry." Jarvis suggests finding a book to have read to him, drawing Harry's attention to the children's books on the shelves.Instead, Harry pulls thick books off the shelves, staggering under the weight of a large stack. He's determined to carry it, proudly proclaiming himself strong, but accidentally dumps the pile on the floor.Rather than picking it up, Harry waves the Wii wand at the stack. "I'm going to lift them like Miss Jean!"The books levitate, neatly stacking themselves and floating to Harry's arms. Harry gasps, dropping the Wii Wand on the floor. "Did you see me? Did you see?!"He's so excited that he almost drops the stack again. James notices Loki smirking faintly, having made a quick gesture with his hand as the books stacked themselves."Do you Midgardians encourage boys to pursue scholarly activities?" Loki shoots a scathing, pointed look at Thor."We do here," Stark replies easily. "I made being a nerd cool."Thor beams at his brother. "He is indeed much like you."Something almost like approval flashes over Loki's face as he watches Harry. James isn't sure he likes the thought of Harry being like a younger Loki.Harry frowns as he deposits the stack of books on the floor, careful to keep them balanced. Rather than opening any of them, he runs back to the shelf for more. He keeps stacking them rather than reading them.Loki levitates a few more, but Harry soon realizes who is really doing the magic. He takes those books off the tower and insists on doing it himself.By now, the tower is as tall as Harry. He throws books up in the air, clearly hoping they'll settle on the top. He almost knocks the whole tower down, but it's held up by an invisible force that seems to actually be Harry's doing rather than Loki's.Professor X tells Harry that he must treat books better, and Loki clearly agrees. The books float gently to the ground."Okay, Grandpa'fessor," Harry dutifully hands books to James, who places them atop the tower.When they're done, Harry takes all the credit."I made our tower!" Harry points proudly to the precarious stack that really should have fallen over. Harry pokes his finger against individual books. "Here's the car floor, and here's the gym. This is the time-out for bad guys floor."Harry pauses to stare at Loki, then stretches in an attempt to reach the top. "And when everyone's good, they go all the way up here!"Moments after admiring his creation, Harry abruptly demolishes it. The toppled books spill across the floor."Gentle," Professor X admonishes."The monsters killed it!" Harry shouts at the top of his lungs.Stark eyes the mess of books. "I hope that's not what happens to this tower,"Harry swings his Wii wand wildly, battling invisible foes.James sighs heavily. Had the whole talk of being something other than a hero gone in one ear and out the other? James thought he was the one with a bad memory.Then again, as Barton had said, Harry's surrounded by heroes and is obviously trying to impress them.Loki snaps his fingers, and the scattered books immediately fly back to their places on the shelves, lining themselves up neatly.Stark makes a nonsensical remark about a spoonful of sugar helping the ingestion of medication.Harry doesn't pause his pretend battle as he protests "I'm not sick!"Stark laughs and mentions Mary Poppins, though the name appears to be as meaningless to Loki and Thor as it is to Steve, Harry and James.Harry climbs onto the couch, ready to leap off. Barton swoops in at about the same time as James. Even so, Barton doesn't turn his back to Loki for an instant.James glances at Barton. Barton isn't a handler, but still seems to know how to implement discipline.James is frozen, unsure what to do. The amount of power he has over Harry makes him dizzy. Harry unknowingly had even more power over the Soldier and never abused it. James doesn't want to abuse his power here, but it's all he knows. He doesn't know how to have this much authority, after a lifetime of having none.Even if Harry can argue and whine in ways the Soldier couldn't, it feels like too much.The thought of punishing Harry still makes James uneasy, remembering his own punishments in the hands of HYDRA, but he'd seen firsthand that being too lenient creates pint-sized delinquents like the Dursley boy. Steve's ma wasn't lenient, and he was still a pint-sized punk. James ignores Bucky.Should he send Harry to time-out again? Can there be too much time-out?"I think you need an even better fortress than a tower," Barton says, and Stark tells Barton, indignantly but without any heat, to get out of the tower if he can't properly appreciate it.Barton huffs with a small smile. "You ever make a blanket fort, kid?""Like a bed?" Harry asks, skeptically."Not quite," Barton then tells Harry he has a super special mission for him, and sends Harry to gather all the blankets and pillows from the bedroom.When Harry's off on his mission, Fury and Coulson question Loki about the Chitauri, clearly believing they'll bring ruin to New York as Harry had to the book tower. It is a more intense interrogation than the questioning James had undergone as Batman when Romanoff and Coulson invaded Stark's workshop in Malibu.Minutes into the interrogation, a high shout comes from the bedroom. "Dad, help! Logan!"James almost slams the door off the hinges in his haste to get to Harry. He envisions agents dropping from the vents or smashing through the window as several thuds come from the bedroom.Bursting in, he finds Harry on the floor with the king size sheet wrapped around him like a mummy's bandages. Harry's trying to roll out of it, but entangling himself more, kicking the nightstand as he squirms.Logan arrives at James's heels, and Harry shouts from his coccoon. His voice is muffled, and even with enhanced hearing, James can't tell if he says get me out or cut me out.There is no snikt of Logan's claws. James kneels down to unwrap the sheet from around his son."It won't make a good fort in ribbons," he says.Once Harry's been extracted from the still-intact sheets, he insists on dragging them himself, even though they're four times his total size.Harry manages to haul the sheets out on his own, but they keep falling to the floor when he tries to prop one end over the sofa.James helps Harry secure the blanket over the couch, then stretch it in an incline to the floor.During the process, Harry interrupts the interrogation to ask his own questions. After spending time around Moody, Harry is completely unfazed by Fury's glare.Harry asks if Thor ate all the food, gesturing between Loki's slender body and Thor's bulkier frame. Thor's barely admitted that he enjoys feasts tremendously before Harry's rattling off more questions, mostly about magic."Can you make things fly? Can you make me fly?""No flying," James reminds him."I'm not on my broom!" Harry says. Loki smirks and James shakes his head, giving Loki more of a warning look than Harry."No flying," James repeats, sternly. Harry humphs, but soon returns to working on his fort.By the time the fort is finished, Steve is leading the planning session on how to hold off the army. It sounds as if prevention is no longer a possibility. There will be a fight.Loki offers his own strategies, which Fury is clearly torn between accepting as inside intel or viewing as an attempt at sabotage.BE MISSION READY, the voice commands. The Soldier usually hadn't been privy to the planning sessions, merely thawed to receive orders and be sent out, but it still feels as if James supposed to be preparing for an op.James reminds himself that the mission is to protect Harry, who has climbed into the blanket fort. James does not like the idea of going under the blanket, of not having visuals of his surroundings when there are agents and former enemies present."Dad! Come see my cozy cupboard!" Harry calls from under the blanket, far calmer than he'd been before.James frowns at his son's choice of words. It would be as if James built himself another cryogenic chamber, or languished on the armchairs that he still cannot bring himself to sit on, no matter how superficial their resemblance to The Chair is.Taking a breath and trusting Jarvis, Stark or Logan to alert him to any threats, James ducks under the blanket fort. It's smaller than the cupboard, but Harry seems far from bothered. He's sprawled over the pillows, stroking the fabric walls."I'm going to live in here forever," Harry smiles, but James's frown doesn't lift. The blanket walls are not opaque, he can see see his surroundings outside the fort, but the feeling of leaving himself vulnerable doesn't leave.How does this not feel like a punishment to Harry? Why had he protested staying in a large bedroom with a city view, and is now reverting to shutting himself in tight places?"You won't be able to see all your family in here," James points out. The fort's barely big enough for him and Harry, let alone their large family they've built for themselves.Harry sits up, considering, then wriggles out of his fort. James ducks out, too, relieved to leave.Harry runs into the kitchen, and returns with an armful of food. Stark makes no comment.As Harry slips back into his fort, he shouts, "Come in! It's big enough! I love magic!"James ducks under, figuring the fort seems bigger without him in there. The fort is much, much more spacious than it should be. It appears to be a whole suite now, with sprawling rooms and lots of lighting. The pillows have been replaced with actual furniture.James isn't sure Harry needs his own penthouse in the middle of Stark's.Stark pokes his head in next, his eyes widening as he starts talking about all the laws of physics that are being broken. James is sure Stark will be interrogating Loki next.Harry jumps on the sofa, delightedly proclaiming that they can do that in his cozy cupboard."This isn't a cupboard," James tells him.Other members trickle in, but some seem wary to leave Loki out of their sight, despite the slight transparency of the blanket walls remaining.Harry takes his duties as host seriously. He leads his guests the kitchen, which has far more food than the things he'd smuggled in. Nobody seems particularly willing to eat it, unwilling to trust magic food. Romanoff eyes the expanded walls as if they'll suddenly begin shrinking until they're all squeezed into one blanket."You allow smoking here?" Logan asks.Jarvis interrupts to insist that smoking only take place on the balconies, citing the dangers of secondhand smoke inhalation for non-enhanced individuals, especially children.Outside the fort, Steve has suited up in his Captain America suit, and tells Logan it's time to don his suit. James sees Loki's clothes suddenly change, magically, no doubt.Steve pokes his head in to eye James. They're both silent, leaving much unsaid. Steve is likely thinking of past battles he fought with Bucky. He opens his mouth, but Stark brushes past and holds something metal out to James."You already have a kick ass prosthesis, but I know you rival Legolas over there. And I stopped making weapons, so no rifles."James takes it, and the thing wraps around his prosthetic hand, an extra layer of metal over metal.It's a gauntlet, modeled after the ones on the Iron Man suits. It shines the same silver as his arm, but there's a thin, red lightning bolt on one of the fingertip.James is silent. He's a sniper, of course, was in both his lifetimes. He doesn't want to fight, but having the ability to shoot down enemies from a distance before they get to Harry means more than he can say."I'd say try it out, but you'll wreck Harry's place. It'll work, guaranteed." Stark claps James on his metal shoulder and saunters back out to put on his Iron Man suit.Harry slips out of the fort to watch, in awe, as the X-Men, the Avengers, Thor and Loki stride across the penthouse in their costumes and armor. Harry bites his lip, clearly wanting to ask about his Robin suit but remembering what he was told."The fort is fireproof," Loki tells him."So's the tower." Stark shoots back, then he takes off. Thor flies with his hammer, and Storm follows suit.Loki simply vanishes, much to Fury's fury.Barton perches on the penthouse balcony, readying an arrow. Romanoff, Logan and Steve head into the elevator, leaving Fury, Coulson, Professor X, Harry and James in Stark's penthouse.James keeps his eyes peeled on the skyline. Lightning fills the sky, and he's not sure if it's Storm or Thor calling it. Harry joins him at the window, but grows restless soon. He heads back to his fort, saying "I'm going to build a fort in my fort." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "I need eyes on Loki," Fury demands, and Harry pokes his head out of his fort."He has eyes. Green ones." Harry sort of wishes Loki's eyes weren't the same as his, even if Loki's good now. "Do you want a different color? Are you going to give Loki a magic Moody eye? How come you just have a patch?"Harry's Grandpa'fessor has his eyes closed and his finger against his head, like his minds flying off to talk to other people.Fury looks down at Harry. A vein in his forehead jumps, like Uncle Vernon's did when he was mad, only he doesn't hit Harry. Instead, he barks at Dad. "Get your kid out of here.""I don't take orders anymore," Dad's voice is flat, and he stands like a statue, not moving to take Harry anywhere.Fury grumbles something about this being an active war zone, a top-secret base.Harry scowls right back. "We were here first, Mr. Pirate." As soon as Mr. Stark's gone, this angry pirate's trying to take over the tower and kick them out.Harry glances at Dad. Are they sure Fury's a good guy? Pirates are bad, right?Harry whispers, loud enough for Dad to hear "Are you going to fight the pirate?""No," Dad says. Fury doesn't look any less angry hearing that.Harry watches Mr. Barton shoot arrows from the walkway outside, and Iron Man zooms past the window.Dad has a glove just like Iron Man's over his metal hand, but he's in here, not shooting anything. Harry doesn't understand it. "Why aren't you fighting? You're a soldier.""Not anymore," Dad shoots a look at Fury and Mr. Coulson when he says it, like he wants to make sure they hear him.Harry feels like he's lost something, suddenly."You're not my soldier? My fist?" Harry looks at Dad's hands. They aren't fists, but he's still standing like a statue."I'm retired.""I'm not tired," Harry boasts. Why is his dad tired? He's a grown-up. Only babies take naps.Now Dad has a small smile on his lips. "Retired. I'm not working as anyone's soldier anymore. I only fight if I have to."Fury mutters something about goddamn alien invasions. Harry doesn't know what it means, and Dad doesn't reply.Fury is still barking orders, and Harry wonders why he hasn't pulled out a sword and joined the fight. He goes to lift the man's dark, leather coat, but Fury steps back and gives him a hard, one-eyed stare.Harry still isn't scared of him, even though Fury seems to think people should be. He's probably grumpy all the time, like Moody.Jarvis starts to explain about personal bubbles, and how Harry shouldn't go right up to people and touch them. Even as Jarvis talks about personal bubbles, Harry thinks that Mr. Stark breaks them all the time. "Is this like how Mr. Stark can fight and say bad words but I can't?""I've given up on Mr. Stark," Jarvis replies.Harry laughs, but then glances out the window. There's a huge hole in the sky now, above the tower, and bad things are coming out of it like bees. "He's not going to die." "I should hope not. I monitor Sir's vitals constantly," "I hope nobody dies. Except bad guys." Harry turns to Dad. "I won't die, 'cos I beated the bad wizard as a baby."Harry makes his hands act like they're blowing up, but they fall slowly to his sides. He lived, but the bad wizard killed his mummy, and his first James dad. And bad guys keep trying to kill his X-Family. What if they kill them for real this time?"I don't want any more dead family," Harry says, quieter. Dad smooths his hand over Harry's hair, which is as long as Dad's, only messier.That dumb wizard is still in Harry's head, so doesn't that mean the bad guy kind of won? Even Grandpa'fessor can't get him out.Harry stamps his foot. Bad guys aren't supposed to win! They don't win on the telly, but they win in his life. It's not fair."I don't want bad guys to win," Harry grumbles, glaring at the ones flying outside."We've got Earth's Mightiest Heroes on the job," Mr. Coulson gives Harry a small smile, though he looks quite proud of himself. Fury turns his angry look toward Mr. Coulson, who says "Well, it's not just the Avengers now, is it?"Harry points at Dad. "He's mighty too,"Dad shakes his head again. "I'm not fighting."He keeps saying that, and Harry doesn't get it. "But you're like Batman."Dad just looks at Harry for a bit before asking, "Batman was a disguise. Are you still Robin?"Harry retreats into his fort, then hides under another blanket. He's not Robin. It's his fault that the bad guys are here now. It's always his fault that they're getting hunted. Even before Dad, back with the Dursleys, Dudley always hunted Harry down in the house, to pinch and push him.Harry hates being hunted. This new blanket isn't even growing big like the other one did. Harry throws it off and storms around his new fort, which is at least as big as the whole tower floor. Through the fabric walls, he sees lightning flash outside the window.Dad's still at the window, watching Mr. Barton shoot arrows. Harry runs to watch, too."Can I try that?" Harry asks. If he could shoot things, he could shoot any bad guy hunting them down.Jarvis says there's a Wii archery game, but that Harry needs to move around, not just sit in front of the telly all day. Nobody ever said that to Dudley. Besides, Harry jumps and swings his Wii wand around, so that is moving.Jarvis says Harry's seen too many screens.Dad has a glove just like Iron Man's, and he's really, really good at shooting on the Wii. Maybe Harry doesn't need to learn to shoot, because Dad can shoot for him. But Dad said he's not a soldier, and he still has an Iron Man glove."Are you going to shoot bad guys?" Harry asks."If I have to," Dad says, his eyes like ice, but they warm when they look at Harry.Harry wraps his arms around Dad's legs. "I'm sorry we're being hunted."Dad looks down at him, then crouches and ruffles his head. "It's not your fault," he says, quietly but firmly. "Bad guys are after me, too. And Stark. They'd hunt Steve, if they knew he was thawed.""Bad guys hate us," Harry agrees, "'cos we're good guys. I hate when bad guys win."Harry needs to win something. He can lap the outside of the fort faster than he can run around the sofa.Harry could fly around the fort faster than he can run, but Dad took his motorbroom away.Harry tugs on Dad's hand. "Go inside my fort."Dad turns away from the window, looking worried. He'd looked worried when they went to get Loki, but he still played with Harry almost the whole time. And that was more than a day.Dad ducks into Harry's fort, and Harry announces, "I can beat you around. Ready, set, go!"Harry races around the outside of the fort, then pokes his head in. Dad is still standing at the door."You didn't run! I beat you!""I did run," Dad's face is blank, like it is a lot, but his eyes aren't. They're like Mr. Stark's when he thinks he's being funny."Did not! I didn't see you run."Harry watches Dad jog along the fort's sheet walls. He's fast, but not as fast as Harry was.Harry punches his hands up as he jumps around, cheering for himself."You didn't run," Dad says, his eyes shining even more, though he still doesn't smile. "I won that one."Harry opens his mouth to argue, but Mr. Coulson says "Why don't you both run around the outside of the fort, or around the inside?"Harry doesn't answer, and Fury adds "Or go to the gym,"The gym was where Dad fought Mr. Barton and gave him his brain back. Only Harry didn't get his brain back after fighting in the gym.But the gym has basketball, and maybe Dad will give him his motorbroom back.Harry runs to the lift. Dad says they should take the stairs. Dad always takes the stairs, never the lift.Harry jabs all the buttons in the lift, and Jarvis asks "Do you wish to stop at all the floors, Master Harry?""I need to win," Harry says, hoping the lift doors will close soon.The lift goes down, swiftly, and the doors open at the gym. Somehow, Dad's already there.Harry throws the basketball like usual, but he keeps thinking about how Ms. Jean or Loki could make it fly, and how everyone's still fighting without them.Harry climbs on the boxing ring. He balances on the ropes and tries to bounce off of them. "I can jump higher than you," he calls to Dad.Jarvis says Harry's being too competitive. He explains that means Harry's trying to win too much, and that doesn't mean anything about computers even though it sounds like it.But winning is good. Harry doesn't want to be a loser."Perhaps you could work on something with your dad, rather than trying to beat him," Jarvis suggests. Harry frowns. He wasn't going to beat Dad up, he just wanted to win all the games they played.Jarvis leads them through workouts. Harry does jumping jacks and somersaults while Dad runs on some machine.Harry gets tired, but Dad seems like he could go forever. Harry tries to jump harder, so Dad won't win, but then Dad taps some buttons and the machine slows to a stop.Dad starts to lift Harry like the weights, though he acts like Harry's lighter than a feather. He keeps pretending to drop Harry before catching him, until Harry's laughing so hard he can't breathe. It's almost as good as flying, because Dad's catching him.Dad still worries about Harry losing his breath, and stops just to watch him and tell him to breathe."Let's play!" Harry begs, sad that the game ended. Dad nods, but says they'll play something else."Are we going to punch bags?""That is not the best way to release your frustrations, though punching inanimate objects is preferable to punching others," Jarvis pauses and says it in smaller words, since Harry's smaller. "It isn't the best way to get your mad out, but it's better than punching people.""What if we punched bad guys?" Harry asks.Dad lets out a long breath. "I'm not a soldier, and neither are you.""What are you now?" Harry asks. "'sides tired?""Retired." Dad reminds him. "I'm your dad.""Forever?" Harry asks slowly. If Dad stopped being a soldier, maybe he'll stop being Harry's dad. Or he'll get killed too, like Harry's old dad, and he'll have to get another dad. Or would he just live with Mr. Stark? But Mr. Stark's fighting now and he might die."Forever," Dad promises, pulling Harry close."What do you want to be?" Harry's voice is muffled against Dad's chest. "For a job?""I don't know. What do you want to be?" Dad asks him right back."A magic mutant man," Harry answers at once, grinning. He's already magic, but he's going to grow up to be a mutant like almost everyone in his family, except Mr. Stark."What jobs do magic, mutant men have?" Dad's almost smiling with his mouth now."They..." Harry says the word for a long time. He was going to say they fight bad guys, but he doesn't think Dad would like that answer."They work at school homes!"Dad asks if he wants to be a teacher."A grandpa'fessor," Harry grins. Dad tells him he won't be old enough to be a grandpa until he's a really old adult, which Harry already knows, but he could be a professor."I'm going to teach P.E." Harry decides. "And I'm going to be a doctor like Dr. Beast and Dr. Banner and Dr. Gray, so I can help people.""Doctors are heroes too, Master Harry." Jarvis agrees. "It is an excellent career choice. You can save lives and help people, without all the violence."Dad pulls out a little notebook and starts writing things down. Harry sees the letters P and E next to each other, though he can't read the rest."That's P.E." Harry points to the letters proudly. "Draw a basketball."Dad quickly sketches a basketball, then a stethoscope for a doctor. "I'm not an artist, like Steve," Dad mutters. "You could be an artist. Should I add that to the list?""And a builder engineer," Harry nods and decides that he'll make Steve draw jobs when he gets back. "Are they done? Steve's better at drawing.""The battle is still ongoing," reports Jarvis.Maybe they'll want a party when they get back.Harry grins. "I'm going to throw a party!""A splendid idea, Master Harry. Mr. Stark is quite fond of parties.""I like parties," Harry declares, even though he's never been to one. He'd slept through Jubilee's birthday party when he was sick at the X-Mansion. He hadn't been too sad, since he thought he wasn't invited, like at the Dursleys'. But Jubilee sent him a piece of cake and a balloon.Mr. Stark had said opening the tower was a party, but now there's this war going on."We need cake," Harry suddenly remembers that his family suggested he bake things instead of being a hero. He'd helped his aunt with a few cakes, only now he dares to hope he might get to eat some. And Dudley won't stick his fingers in the icing and then say it was Harry, so Harry won't be smacked.They go up to the kitchen, and Harry sees that Mr. Coulson and Fury are gone.Jarvis tells Harry where everything is in the cupboards. Harry even gets to put on an apron, which is a lot like a cape. It's a backwards cape, going down his front to save his clothes from getting messy."Bakers are heroes for hungry people," Harry tells Dad and Jarvis as he fetches things from the cupboards. He wants to help hungry people, like how Dad broke him out of his cupboard and gave him food.Harry cracks open eggs and watches the goop slide into a bowl. He's suddenly glad he hadn't cracked his head trying to get the bad guy out. He wouldn't want all his brains to slide out like egg goop."I'm glad too," Dad tells him, when Harry shares this.They open the flour, and Harry says "It's like snow, but it's warm."He knows Dad hates the cold, but Dad tells him not to play with the warm flour snow either. When Harry asks why, Dad answers "It's wasteful,"The tower has electric mixers and things that his aunt used, but Dad says Steve never had them. Dad doesn't use the electric tools. He seems to like using his hands to stir.Harry tries too, but it's really hard to move the spoon. He tries stirring with his Wii wand, but Dad keeps stirring anyway.Finally, after lots of measuring and mixing and pouring, all the batter is in the pan. Dad puts the pan in the oven without putting a mitten over his metal hand.Now they have to wait. Harry's good at waiting. He watches the cake, then watches out the window, then goes back to peering through the oven's little window. The cake rises very slowly."Mr. Stark is calling," Jarvis announces, and then Mr. Stark's voice comes through the speakers instead of Jarvis'."Hey, so I'm about to shoot for the world's biggest basket, and it might go boom-" Mr. Stark starts."You can't die!" Harry yells. "If you die, I'll throw the cake on the floor.""Cake?" Mr. Stark asks."Yeah. For saving the world."Mr. Stark laughs, only it's a weird laugh, like a cry. Suddenly, Harry sees Iron Man fly toward the hole above the tower. He's holding something big and round, but it's too long to be a ball. He flies up, up until Harry can't see him anymore.Harry holds his breath. He can't lose Mr. Stark.The hole in the sky shrinks and shrinks, like water going down the drain, and Harry still doesn't see Iron Man."Dad! I need my moto-broom!" Harry shouts, trying to look up out the window instead of out at the city.Dad rushes out onto the balcony. Mr. Barton isn't up here anymore, and Harry hopes he didn't fall. Harry follows Dad out, staring up at the shrinking hole. There's no sign of Mr. Stark.Suddenly, something shiny and red falls out of the hole, right before the hole disappears.Iron Man falls and falls. He'd caught them when they fell from the plane, but now he's falling, too far away to catch.Harry needs his motorbroom now. Where are Ms. Jean and Storm? They can stop him from falling.Iron Man's already fallen past the tower as Harry hears something smash through the floor behind him.Dad pulls Harry back away from the edge of the balcony, but Harry hears a roar, and the building shakes a bit. His motorbroom skids to a halt behind him, but Dad doesn't let go of Harry.Not long after, there's another roar, and Jarvis says that Mr. Stark is okay, and that they won."We won! We won!" Harry cheers as he runs back to the kitchen. Winning is definitely a reason to have a party. It wouldn't be a very fun party if they lost.James pulls the cake out of the oven and writes words with frosting. Harry can't read any of them, but Dad says it reads "Congrats on saving the world."Jarvis connects another call from Mr. Stark."Hey, so I made the basket. I'm alive. We're all alive, and we're going to get shawarma.""What's shawarma?""I don't know, but I want to try it. You guys can come along, and then we can eat your cake.""I can come?" Harry asks, shocked. The Dursleys never took him out, and Harry didn't get to go out at Mr. Stark's mansion or the school, either."Of course," Mr. Stark says. "Loki says he can disguise you, but even if someone recognizes you guys, well, they probably won't mess with us,"Harry tugs on Dad's hand before the call ends.Dad makes him wait long enough to put the cake in the fridge.Even with a huge battle and time-out, and all the worry, Harry's getting to go out today. He runs toward the elevator, until Loki pops up in front of him."I know a faster way," Loki tells him with a huge grin. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- They've blown that rule about keeping magic a secret right out of the water, and several buildings and roadways are in shambles, but they won.Tony's resolutely not thinking about how he was almost trapped in a wormhole, how the darkness had closed in on him a second time until the Hulk's roar startled him into consciousness. But, hey, at least Thor or Storm didn't need to jump-start his heart... at least, not that he remembers.No, Tony's thinking about shawarma, and then cake. Thor is vehemently agreeing that it is appropriate to have a feast following their victorious battle.Loki materializes in a golden shine, bringing both Harry and James along with him. Harry blinks, shocked."I'm not sicking up like when we appeared at your house." Harry looks from his clean shirt to Tony.Loki has a rather superior expression on his face as he remarks that his teleportation is a much smoother ride than that of "Midgardian mages".Moody's glare just makes Loki's smirk widen into a rather sharklike grin."At least you didn't throw them out the window," Tony mutters. Despite fighting on their side during the most recent battle, Loki still seems like the type who would enjoy defenestration."You forgot Grandpa'fessor," Harry turns to accuse Loki, though Jarvis informs Tony that Professor X is headed down in the elevator."How come we're not at home?" Harry eyes the chunks of rubble and smashed cars, proclaiming the street to be messier than Dudley's other bedroom.The fact that Dudley apparently had a second, wrecked room while Harry was locked in a cupboard dampens the feeling of success a bit. Tony's going to donate enough to make sure that child protective services are better funded, better staffed so cases like Harry's don't fall through the cracks.Hell, he's going to start his own nonprofit for that. Harry's Hope or something. Harry's Haven? Some catchy alliteration, even if he may not use Harry's actual name.Tony needs to do something, because not every child is going to be kidnapped and then ultimately rescued by a super soldier.But, like he said once he'd realized they won, they can take tomorrow off before trying to fix their broken world.Professor Xavier drives out of the tower's entrance. Steve casts a glance across the street, then asks the Professor if he'll be able to navigate over the rubble.Tony raises a brow. "Let's do a head count. I can fly, Jean can levitate his chair, Storm can fly him up or lift his chair with a gust of wind, Thor's got a hammer.."Logan adds "Even without flight, several of us are strong enough to carry Chuck and his chair over any obstacles.""I appreciate the offer, but I believe you could simply push obstacles out of my way, rather than carrying me." Professor X smiles mildly."I didn't do this," Harry gestures at the wreckage like he expects not to be believed, and then blamed for it."We know, Oliver. It was aliens."Harry casts an accusing look at Thor rather than Loki, before attempting to lift a chunk of rubble.Tony frowns. Aren't kids supposed to resist cleaning up, or at least drag their feet? Sure, Harry had clearly been put to work by his awful aunt and uncle, and had probably been blamed for all of Dudley's messes, but this still takes Tony by surprise.Earlier today, Tony was marveling at how Harry made enough progress to throw a tantrum. Now he's back to thinking he has to clean up other people's messes, and he hasn't even spent enough time around Pepper to pick it up from her.Or is it Harry's obvious hero complex that's compelling him to help out? His 'grandpa'fessor' had just mentioned moving the wreckage.Steve mentions that children had helped gather scrap metal, but even with his limited time in the current century, seems to realize that kids aren't supposed to work now.Loki waves his hand and the chunk simply disappears. Harry looks shocked while Barton suspiciously asks "Where did you put it?""In a pocket dimension," Loki says casually, as if that's not ringing science alarm bells in Tony's head. He's going to put Loki through so many tests."You're the best wizard," Harry gawks at Loki in awe. Tony catches Clint looking very disgruntled behind his sunglasses, clearly thinking Loki doesn't deserve the admiration.Loki makes another gesture, and the dirt and grime covering Steve vanishes. Tears in their uniforms repair themselves.James pulls Harry away from the rubble. "Remember your jobs.""I'm not fighting," Harry points out. "I can clean. And I'm super strong, so I can lift big rocks.""Those aren't rocks," Tony points out. Can't Harry see the chunks missing from buildings?There's a camera crew a few blocks away, and Tony moves to block Harry and James from sight. Steve's going to be thrust into the spotlight again, there's really no avoiding that, but Tony is starting to kick himself.He doesn't want to exclude Harry from things, but it sounds like Harry's already a celebrity back in magical Britain. He doesn't need more celebrity status here.Somehow, despite the gaggle of heroes, the camera crew turns the other way, seeming intensely focused on reporting on a dead Leviathan.The walk to the shawarma joint takes a while, and not just due to the rubble or Moody's prosthetic leg. James is tense, and Harry's picking up on it, falling silent and clutching his father's metal hand. This is Harry's first time out in the city too. Sure, the streets may have been cleared of civilians during the battle, but there are squadrons of police.If Tony weren't in their little hero crowd, he'd never notice James, who is staying stealthily in the middle. The police look at the heroes, and see no sign of James or Harry.At the shawarma place, Harry turns his head in awe. "I always wanted burgers.""A kid after my heart," Tony chuckles, but explains that these aren't burgers. Doesn't Harry smell the difference?Thankfully, Harry doesn't throw a fit over hearing these. He seems to regard Shawarma as close enough since it's meat and bread that he can eat with his hands.By the time they get their orders and push together a few tables, everyone has fallen silent, even those with superhuman stamina. Clint watches Loki suspiciously. Moody sniffs the shawarma with what's left of his nose, but doesn't take a single bite.The press would probably be shocked that Tony isn't talking, and even Harry has stopped asking what different ingredients are.They eat in silence, knowing that the world has changed and will never be the same.As if Tony hadn't seen enough changes already. At this rate, literally nothing will surprise him anymore.Harry crashes before they get out of the restaurant. Despite his protest of naps being babyish, he conks out and James carries him back to the tower.They put off the cake party until later.Tony's exhausted, but he knows if he closes his eyes, he'll see the blackness of space surrounding him. He stays in his lab, blasting music and cursing the fact that this event ruined his half-baked plan of making Iron Man an astronaut.Bruce has no trouble sleeping after Hulking out, seeming almost as tired as Harry, and Tony's not jealous.Harry sleeps for six hours straight and wakes up around ten p.m., and Jarvis doesn't even start getting preachy about consistent sleep schedules.Clint and Natasha have disappeared to who knows where, probably briefing Fury despite the fact he was surely watching the whole battle.Thor and Loki disappear as well, beaming up to Asgard with the Tesseract before Fury can object. Thor seems convinced that Loki will be sentenced to imprisonment in the tower, and community service to help rebuild Manhattan.Tony's not sure he likes the idea of Earth being the dumping ground for arrogant, entitled alien princes to learn humility. Plus the fact this Allfather isn't even asking whether Tony would mind housing Loki in his tower.Professor Xavier has offered his school to help rehabilitate Loki- after all, there are several qualified adults to help keep Loki in check, and Tony's pretty sure the school would be open to anyone, regardless of their past.But, well, Loki can't really help clean Manhattan from Westchester. So it seems like Tony's tower it is.If there's any basis of truth to the myths, though, Tony would take Loki into his tower just to prevent him being tortured by a snake dripping venom into his eyes. Tony doesn't jive with torture, even for criminals, and Loki's a complicated case, to say the least.As the hours tick by, JARVIS updates Tony on the news of the attack as well as the conversations about it online.The public is, in general, not as shocked about an alien invasion as they would have been a few years ago. With all the recent news about HYDRA lurking for decades, about how widespread the infestation has been through governments and companies around the globe, a lot of citizens seem pretty unruffled by the whole alien thing.Or, rather, a lot of people seem more focused on the whole magic bit. The news constantly loops footage of the X-Men using their powers, which the press and public is branding as magic, despite the fact mutants aren't magic.Then there's the ever-circulating footage of Loki taking down Chitauri with magic, turning their blasters into baguettes and making their speeders buck them off like broncos. This is often played side-by-side with the news footage of him in Stuttgart, ordering civilians to kneel.There are, of course, all sorts of wild theories about that, but some people are hitting pretty close to home and guessing mind control, noting the change in his eyes from blue to green, and the lack of a certain glowing blue scepter in the Manhattan battle.Tony's pretty sure the cat's permanently out of the bag now. Muggles or no-majes or whatever they're called know about magic on a widespread scale. Frankly, the fact someone hadn't caught it on camera by now is sort of shocking.Tony's not sure if even Professor X could erase everyone's memory of magic with Cerebro, and frankly, he's not sure he wants to know either. That guy would be terrifying if he were on the other side, and if he ever decides to become a supervillain, well, it'd be even worse than this whole Loki fiasco.Tony's in the kitchen, where another pot of coffee has been mercifully brewed when Harry comes running from the bedroom and past the magical fort."Where's Loki?"Harry seems surprisingly disgruntled to hear that Loki went away. "He was going to make my head so small inside that the bad guy can't fit."Harry gestures pointedly to his fort, though Loki had done the opposite to it."Not a good idea," Tony sips coffee just shy of hot enough to burn his throat, "unless you want brains leaking out your ears."Harry wrinkles his nose in disgust, protesting, "Loki can't leave. He needs cake. Did Thor eat it all?" "Nobody ate your cake, Master Harry." "He's probably coming back," Tony says, still not entirely happy with the idea. Harry, however, smiles.They slice up the cake, and Harry insists on saving pieces for Loki, Thor, Clint and Natasha (he's even more disappointed to hear that Clint is gone). Tony finds it hilarious that Harry insists 'the angry pirate' shouldn't get a piece.The remaining members of the team, besides Bruce, who's still sleeping off his Hulk out, gather when JARVIS informs them that there's cake.Harry uses his Wolverine toy's fork claws to stab cake, and urges Logan to do the same with his real claws. Logan spears a bit to make Harry smile, but doesn't eat off of them.As they're finishing up the cake, Harry shows off a list of jobs he'd made during the battle, and insists Steve draw a broomstick. Steve sketches Harry riding his motorbroom, and Harry protests "No, just the broom.""But isn't this for your job list?" Steve asks, baffled. "Aren't you going to play... Quidditch?""No, I'm going to be a broom!" Harry insists.Steve shakes his head, as if he feels he might be dreaming this conversation. "But you can't be a broomstick.""Yes I can," Harry folds his arms petulantly. "Then Dad can't take my motorbroom away."Tony bursts out laughing. "You've seen Storm and I fly without brooms. Why not be like us?"Harry huffs, annoyed at how slow they are on the uptake. "You said I can't be a superhero."Steve asks if Harry will have arms and carry pails of water. It's Harry's turn to stare blankly and then copy the tone of an adult being confused by a child that Steve had just used "Brooms don't have arms."Steve sketches a few scenes from Disney's Fantasia, saying Harry might like it because of the magic. Steve's rendition of Sorcerer Mickey is uncanny.As Steve sketches, Tony delights in sharing some of the theories that Steve was cloned by aliens, or resurrected by magic.Though really, Tony deserves all the credit for finding him.Harry conks out again around midnight. James retires for the night as well, but Tony dives into work. He calls Pepper about the charity for child abuse, examines the scepter that Thor and Loki graciously left behind.Around four in the morning, Thor and Loki return. Thor's prediction is correct, and Loki is here to fix some of the damage.When Harry wakes up and sees Loki later that morning, he's thrilled. "Loki! I saved you cake!" Harry glances at Thor and adds "And you,""And I got you burgers," Tony boasts, gesturing toward the burgers he'd ordered for breakfast. Yes, they can be breakfast, and Jarvis has been ordered, under threat of reprogramming, not to comment or inform Pepper.James doesn't comment, and Professor Xavier is off doing something.Thor devours his cake heartily, while Loki takes his time, neatly cutting it with his fork. Harry struggles to bite into his own massive burger, mumbling that he wished he could have a snake mouth."Don't even think about it, brother," Thor warns. "You know the consequences if you do not comply with Father's guidelines."At these words, James crushes his own burger so the bun splits and the ingredients plop onto the countertop."Mr. Stark says you can't make my head small to get the bad guy out," Harry shares, half a challenge and half disappointed resignation."It would not be advisable," Loki agrees, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender as James emerges from the bedroom with a murderous glare. "I have research to conduct before I can remove the parasite,""Can you make me a broom?" Harry asks."I made you the best broom," Tony protests.Harry shoots him an exasperated look, and Tony sighs. Despite not sleeping, that conversation about growing up to be a broomstick feels like a fever dream."No, he won't turn you into a broom," James says. Harry adopts James's own glare, but of course James is unaffected.Neither James nor Harry back down from the impromptu staring contest, and there aren't many people who could stare at the former Winter Soldier without being intimidated. Harry's got guts, especially since James has parental authority over him.Harry's glare abruptly vanishes when he realizes "I get my motorbroom back today."The motorbroom zooms up to Harry, almost like an excited puppy. Is it Loki's doing, or Harry's?"That should keep you busy," Tony remarks, dragging Loki off toward the lab to run some tests. Loki, surprisingly, doesn't protest. James looks like he's getting flashbacks to Tony's fascination with his cybernetic arm.Thor stands to protest. "Loki was sent to help with repairs-""I said we weren't going in today," Tony answers breezily over his shoulder. "Besides, it looks like we don't have to hide magic anymore, so Loki can just pull a Mary Poppins tomorrow." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Steve knew that he'd be back in the spotlight when he put on the old stars and stripes suit and battled in the middle of Manhattan. He was resigned to being paraded around, but at least he'd be doing something rather than just being a figurehead like in his USO days.Then again, he'd fought in the last war, and that hadn't turned out very well. Sure, it had looked like they'd won on the surface, but HYDRA had stayed lurking underneath.Even with the recent reveal of HYDRA, they still have to make sure to chop off every single head, so none can grow back. At least, they had been focused on it before the alien invasion.The battle in Manhattan had been smoother than Steve expected- astonishingly, there were no civilian casualties, and while there was a lot of property damage, it doesn't seem as drastic when his team contains a woman with telekinetic powers and two wizards who can fix things with magic.Cleanup goes rather quickly with those powers at their disposal. Steve still pitches in, lifting chunks of rubble that Iron Man and Cyclops cut with their lasers. Loki does several hand-waving motions that either vanish the rubble or restore it to where it had been.Of course, Harry insists on helping. Loki somehow switches James and Harry's appearances so they look nothing like themselves- Harry's scar and James's prosthetic are both gone, yet James looks nothing like the Bucky from before, either. Both are blonde, until Harry gripes about being "yellow like Dudley".In the blink of an eye, both Harry and James have flaming red hair that is, thankfully, not literally flaming.Loki actually does turn Jean's red hair into fire once as a prank, and Jean hurls him through a building in retaliation.Climbing out of the hole and dusting off his clothes, extinguishes Jean's head with a snap. He tilts his head imperiously toward the new whole caused by his body "I believe the goal was to clean the city, not wreck it further."Loki casts a look at Thor's hammer, then restores the building with a wave of his hand.Of course, there are journalists filming, snapping photographs. Every news station is clamoring for interviews with the Avengers and X-Men (a common question is why they have two names when they're one team).Tony handles a lot of the press stuff, already very well versed in public appearances even if he evidently didn't always focus on giving the best appearance in the past.But of course, they want interviews with the whole team. Even as Steve's moving rubble, he finds several microphones shoved in his face as reporters shout questions.There's a lot of interest in the team, sure, but even so, the world is a lot more focused on the existence of aliens and, especially, magic than the resurrection of Captain America, and Steve's honestly a little relieved.The civilians have had a lot thrown at them, recently; in a way, their world has changed just as drastically as Steve's has. Sure, they hadn't slept for seventy years, but like Steve, they're having to face the reality of things that most would have called fictional only a few days ago.The public seems very split on magic and mutants, and very unsure of the distinction (from what Steve can tell, mutants have more individualized powers, whereas magicians have a wider range but require specialized tools like wands).Seeing as how the X-Men had been saving them from aliens, Steve had hoped that the public opinion of them would be favorable, but of course there are those who think they're dangerous and should be chipped by the government.Tony goes on air to argue that anything can be dangerous if wielded by the wrong people. He cites the government trying to take his suit, stating it was a weapon, and how well that turned out for them. How evil people tried making their own Iron Man suits, but that doesn't make Iron Man any less of a hero.It becomes very clear to the public that Tony Stark supports mutant rights and freedoms.Just like the non-magical, non-mutant civilians, actual mutants, wizards and witches seem pretty split on the reveal as well.Professor X seems delighted, viewing the reveal as a way to finally bridge the divide between mutants and the rest of humanity. Some of the team are slightly more cynical. Wizards are, perhaps, even more concerned with being revealed.Yet there are some wizards that use the reveal to openly hunt Muggles. Steve's pretty sure it's the Death Eaters Moody had mentioned, and gets ready to gear up and hunt them down, but it seems that Dumbledore and other wizards in Britain are already fighting them.The tower has a copy of that computer called Cerebro that the Professor uses to communicate with people around the globe. Professor X has several long, telepathic conversations with Dumbledore and the Minister of Magic regarding the world's knowledge of magic.Professor X refuses to erase everyone's memories of magic, leaving the wizards stuck. The wizards can't possibly erase everyone's memory, just as they can't erase the evidence from television and computers.Wizards, witches and mutants will just have to cope with muggles knowing about them, just as the muggles are having to cope with learning about them. It doesn't always go well, but several celebrities share their personal connection with mutants or mages.With the cleanup happening rather quickly after the decimation of Manhattan, life moves on.Tony is a whirlwind of activity as always, and seems to sleep even less. He jumps from endlessly complicated conversations about magic and science with Loki, Bruce and Hank to egging on Loki's ridiculous pranks. He gets Miss Potts to help kickstart a charity for helping fund child services and providing for children in foster care. He's talking of furthering screenings for abuse.Even with all that going on, Tony still manages to look over a lot of the Avengers and X-Men merchandise hitting the shelves like wild, faster even than the Captain America comic books, or even the Captain America and Bucky Bears had back in Steve's day.Both the bears are making a comeback, but supersized Hulk bears are the surprise smash hit that everyone seems crazy to get their hands on; Bruce honestly doesn't seem to know how to react. "Beast Bears" are only slightly less sought after.One week after the battle, after watching Loki clean the city, James approaches Loki and, without any pleasantries, says "You can get the parasite out of Harry's head."Steve's not really sure what he was expecting, maybe a lot of yelling and chanting like the exorcisms in old radio dramas. Loki gets Harry comfortable on the couch, presses a hand against his head. Something erupts from it, which really does seem demonic.Smoke forms into a bald, noseless who looks remarkably like Red Skull, only paler. The Pale Skull man yells and hisses until Loki does something that makes him writhe and disappear.Harry rubs his head, then rushes to the mirror. The lightning scar is still there, but he claims it doesn't hurt."Why's it not a star?" Harry asks. Loki snaps his fingers, and the scar suddenly becomes a star. Harry laughs and begins requesting other shapes- a snake, a moon, a snitch. Each request is met with a newly shaped scar, and Harry seems to have entirely forgotten the previous procedure of removing the horrible presence from within.About a week and a half after the battle, Steve gets Loki to disguise him and James so they can walk through the park anonymously. Harry wears a plastic firefighter hat over his scar, as well as the ridiculously expensive sunglasses Tony got him, which are sure to break any day with Harry's rough and tumble play. Steve reminds himself that they've got people who could fix them in a blink.Steve tries not to think about walks he used to take with Bucky (which were usually much shorter and certainly never involved a child, unless Bucky's sisters were tagging after them).Steve discusses taking Harry and James to Coney Island, despite the Bucky memories associated with there, too. James clearly has no memories of the place, not even forcing Steve to ride the Cyclone, but he listens with interest as Steve describes it. Or, rather, how Coney Island used to be.Harry, wide-eyed, seems enamored and utterly fearless at the prospect of roller coasters. He begs to go and demands to know if it's faster than his Motor-broom.Steve assures him it is.Despite all the merchandise now and in his USO days, Steve's still taken aback when he sees a woman throw a frisbee that resembles his shield for her dog to catch in Central Park.Not twenty yards down the path, they see a boy with huge rubber Hulk fists pretend to battle a girl with plastic Wolverine claws. The children bash and slash at each other before teaming up to wallop invisible aliens.Steve looks down at Harry, who doesn't run up to play with the other children, like he always did when the older kids were playing basketball. Despite all his fearlessness around people with actual superpowers, Harry half hides behind James, his eyes tracking the Hulk fists as if they'll pummel him.James squats, encouraging Harry to go play. He assures that the kids won't be like Dudley and Piers, and if they are, they'll have to answer to James."And me," Steve says. "I don't like bullies."Harry nods and slowly approaches the children."What power do you have?" asks the boy, who's maybe a year older than Harry."Magic." Harry answers.The girl pokes her plastic claws against the fork tine claws of Harry's Wolverine toy. "Where'd you get him?"Harry clutches the toy tighter, pulling it back slightly. "We painted Batman.""Batman's not real," the boy says. "He's a made-up hero. Real heroes are cooler.""Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles aren't real either, Leonardo." the girl shoots back."Mutants are too real!" Leonardo argues, obviously misunderstanding the recent news. Then again, with everything that has been revealed, it's not all that implausible there would be turtle ninjas.Steve wonders if Harry will brag about living with real heroes, but he's oddly quiet and subdued. He's still clearly unsure of how to play with other kids. The closest he's gotten were teenagers at the mansion.The kids' mother says something to her kids in Spanish. Both Leonardo and Lucia go out of their way to try and include Harry and make him comfortable.James nods at her in thanks, and they wind up chatting in a way they probably wouldn't have if Steve looked like himself. The woman, who introduces herself as Victoria, mistakes them both for Harry's dads. Steve marvels at how two men could openly raise a child together in New York now, but he tells her he's not.Victoria nods, but mentions her wife is stationed overseas, which gets them into swapping stories about being soldiers (though Steve's are edited somewhat).Victoria briefly brings up Don't Ask, Don't Tell, which is one aspect of history Steve's caught up on. He never thought he'd see the day soldiers didn't have to hide their preferences, but Victoria seems displeased that it was only repealed last year.To Victoria, Steve's just any other soldier. It's refreshing, in a way, and she doesn't pressure James to talk. She seems to know, intuitively, that was a soldier too.James mostly watches Harry and the other children play. At one point, Leonardo swings his Hulk fists at Harry, who flees as if his life depends on it. Leonardo seems to view it as a game of chase, not picking up on Harry's genuine desire to escape.Harry glances back, and with a loud pop both rubber Hulk fists deflate. Rather than blaming the action figure or costume claws, Leonardo puts the pieces together as he looks at his ruined props. "You really are a wizard!"Harry sprints back to James, out of breath."No, no, that's so cool." Leonardo insists, his voice turning wistful. "I wish I was a wizard. Maybe I'll be a mutant.""I'm going to be a magic mutant." Harry shares softly. "Only Dad says no fighting like a hero. So I'm gonna fix broken stuff instead. And feed people."Lucia pipes up with "Mommy's off fighting."Harry finds a ball and seems much more comfortable playing with that than play-fighting. Steve shakes his head, because he would've thought a hero-obsessed kid like Harry would love playing heroes with other kids.Victoria invites them over to dinner, which Steve dodges by saying they have plans, but maybe sometime else. He doesn't know how long this disguise will last, and suddenly turning into Captain America during dinner would be simply awkward.They swap phone numbers, something Steve still isn't used to, and Steve, James and Harry head back to the tower. Steve wonders if they'd even be allowed to invite the family there, what with all the clearances required, and whether or not the kids would be overwhelmed finding out who they truly are.When they return, they find Clint and Natasha have returned as well. Clint insists on a game of darts with James, and they seem pretty equally matched. Harry, of course, clammers for the next turn, his earlier shyness entirely gone.Natasha remarks that Clint's used to wiping the floor with people, which makes Harry frown."So, I hear you're on cleanup duty," Clint aims, throws, and splits one dart through the middle to get another bullseye."We don't wipe with people," says Harry, and Clint chuckles."That's one of those expressions," Clint shrugs. When the game's done, he shows Harry how to throw, helping Harry through the motions. Harry has a knack for catching balls and has improved at shooting baskets, but his first several throws miss the dartboard entirely."Where were you?" Harry asks, nosily."Where were you?" Clint shoots back playfully, successfully distracting Harry from something most likely classified. Harry launches into a description of their day at the park and how a boy tried to punch him.Clint's expression flicks between anger and the understanding that kids can quickly get out of hand. He glances at James and Steve, so confirm it was the latter.James speaks quietly to Clint about Harry's struggles with learning how to play, and Steve feels a pang when he realizes, yet again, that James is far from the easygoing, charming man from the forties. James fretting over Harry's social skills is really the pot calling the kettle black.But Clint nods and takes it seriously. He glances around, confirms with Jarvis that Loki is still outside cleaning, and says "You know, I've got some rugrats back home who'd be happy to play with you,"Natasha smirks. "Clint may be a disaster, but his kids turned out great." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- James hasn't known Barton for very long, but somehow he trusts the offer of meeting Barton's family, and laying low at his farmhouse.James is not used to trusting so easily, but he's trusted Barton's parenting advice so far, and Barton has not steered him wrong.Clearly, Barton wants to keep his own family away from the chaos and danger of being related to an agent, now a superhero. Barton shares that they're in remote, rural area to avoid Barton's enemies hunting his family down or using them as leverage.Barton claims Fury and Coulson helped him set it up, and James doesn't need to say how lucky Barton's family was that HYDRA hadn't found it. James can see it in Barton's eyes.James is convinced of the idea, but Harry, of course, is not so logical. His first question is why Barton's kids, Cooper and Lila, can't visit at the tower or the school."Because we're going there," Barton explains patiently. "Think of it as a vacation, a chance to get away from all the crazy stuff going on around here."Barton looks as if he needs to get away. James is unfamiliar with the concept of a vacation, but Harry clearly isn't."I get to go on vacation?" Harry's eyes bug out, as if he'd never dreamed of being able to go on a trip. Stark frowns like he's already planning on taking Harry to see the world."You bet," Barton grins. "I mean, it's not exactly Disney World, but-""Is it Coney Island?" Harry turns to Steve. He'd been awestruck by all of Steve's stories of wild rides like the Cyclone, ignoring Steve's anecdote of the ride making his stomach dispel its contents."It's my house," Barton's grin turns rueful. "With my family,""And mine," Harry turns to Stark.Barton rubs his hair. "Aw, Harry.""We're not going," Stark says.All of Harry's excitement seems to drain from his body, until he's crossing his arms and pouting."But families go on vacation together!" Harry argues. "That's what the Dursleys did!""My house isn't big enough for everyone," Barton shakes his head. "So... don't expect a mansion, or a super tall tower. Still, it's home.""We've got to take care of some things here," Professor X tells him.They assure Harry it will only be for a week, but seven days is a long time for a four-year-old.Harry is unenthusiastic about packing. Not even the assurance that there will be lots of space to fly his motorbroom, like at Xavier's Institute, cheers him up.Harry packs all of his action figures and his basketball, as well as his motorbroom.Stark insists James take a custom phone, calibrated to sense both his metal and flesh fingertips. The phone includes JARVIS, a camera and more applications than James knows what to do with.Stark assures him that all messages sent and received are private and secure, that there is no chance of HYDRA hacking them or finding their location.The camera, particularly, intrigues James."We're coming back, right?" Harry asks as they board the jet. Barton and Romanoff head to the cockpit, while Harry and James settle in the back. Harry clings tighter to his Iron Man, Wolverine and even Captain America figurines."We are," James assures him.Harry dejectedly watches the tower disappear. They rise until all they can see are clouds and sky. Harry unceasingly asks when they're going home, but eventually falls into silence as he stares at the clouds, clearly daydreaming about being on his motorbroom.Harry squirms as the jet descends toward a large field, with only a few houses visible. Neighbors are clearly sparse. SIGHTLINES ARE OPTIMAL. James agrees with the voices's approval; it is extremely difficult for attackers to sneak up on the house when it is surrounded by fields. There are plenty of windows offering views from every angle."You garden's almost as big as my school home's!" Harry proclaims, pressing his nose to the window. "Where's your basketball court?""I've got a hoop in the driveway," Barton tells him, which seems good enough for Harry.Harry seems perplexed that they land in the field rather than the driveway, but happily runs across the grass, eager to stretch his legs after the flight. James has to steer Harry in the direction of the rustic, two-story farmhouse.It is, indeed, smaller than the mansion or any of Stark's properties, save for the cabin they briefly stopped in after being attacked mid-flight.Bigger than any apartment in the city. Bucky remarks. James pointedly thinks of the apartments in Stark Tower, which are bigger than the entire farmhouse, and Bucky's voice adds Bigger than any I had."It's cozy," Harry remarks, which makes Romanoff raise a brow. Barton does not seem offended.James scans the exits, the lines of sight, potential hiding spots.The interior seems comfortable and lived in. The sunroom especially has plenty of natural light without the floor-to-ceiling windows Stark's homes favor. The furniture is much less modern than Stark's, and much less ornate than at Xavier's Institute. It reminds James of the ski lodge he and Harry stayed in at the beginning of their journey.James points out a a wooden train track is set up on the floor. A large dollhouse stands against one wall, next to a child-sized fake kitchen and workbench.Barton introduces his wife, Laura, who smiles kindly at them. "Clint's told us about you. I guess we're not the only secret superhero family in the world. Please, make yourselves at home."Barton opens the fridge, which is covered with children's artwork. "You want anything? Beer, soda, juice, milk?""I can't drink beer," Harry shakes his head as if Barton is a forgetful child, though James is pleased that Harry no longer questions being offered food or drinks. "It's only for grown-ups, like smoking sticks. And it's bad for you.""It is bad for you," Laura tells him seriously."Logan drinks lots anyway. And he and dad had smoke sticks." Harry casually shares. Barton struggles to hold in his laughter. "Mr. Stark drinks lots and lots, but he drinks the good stuff."Footsteps thunder down the stairs, and two children rush in. Both children have brown hair like their parents. The boy's hair looks like Harry's used to, only better combed. The girl, who has her hair in two braids, squeals "Auntie Nat!""I'm here too," Barton grouses halfheartedly as Romanoff scoops the girl up into her arms.Following the children is a large yellow mutt with a missing eye. The dog's tail whips back and forth as it goes to greet Harry and James. Harry is clearly unsure, but stands bravely as the dog sniffs his toys. The dog is around the same size as Nighty had been, but is much better groomed."Sit, Lucky," Barton commands. The dog plops down, its tail still wagging, and its mouth opens in a grin.Harry, so fearless of Beast, watches warily, as if expecting the teeth to snap at him. He reaches up for James to hold him the same way Romanoff is holding the girl."Lucky won't hurt you," the girl, who looks to be the same age as Harry, tells him. "He likes pizza."The boy studies Harry's chin-length hair. "You're a boy, right?""Cooper!" Laura admonishes."He has long hair," Cooper defends himself, then glances up and sees James does too."So does Thor," Romanoff points out.Harry mentions that Loki and Moody do, too, but he says it more to James than anyone else."Do all wizards have long hair?" Lila asks curiously, but changes topics before anyone answers. "Want to see our snake?"Harry's eyes light up, his earlier trepidation forgotten. "I can talk with snakes!"Lila and Cooper race towards the stairs, exclaiming how Harry can ask their snake so many questions. Harry glances once at James, then wriggles out of his arms and sets off after the other children.James feels his shoulders relax. He hadn't even realized they were tight."Do you need a hand with your things?" Laura offers, and Barton gives a cough that sounds suspiciously like the words super strength. Laura laughs and continues. "I'll show you to your room. Clint said Harry would want to share a room with you,"James nods his thanks, hoisting his own suitcase easily and following the Bartons up the stairs. He can hear Lila and Cooper talking over each other as they suggest the first question to ask their pet snake.Laura has barely opened the door to the guest room when there's an anguished shout from down the hall."Dad! The snakes's just hissing at me!"Laura looks briefly perplexed as Harry comes running down the hall. He grabs James' prosthesis and tugs him toward the other room. "He's not talking, he's just hissing!"James does not know what to say. He's never heard words from a snake."Your snake breaked," Harry informs Cooper and Lila."Nuh-uh!" Lila jumps to the snake's defense. "Ropey's the best snake!""He's not talking.""Can you talk to Lucky?" Cooper asks, starting to look skeptical that Harry could talk to any animal, despite the reveal of magic.Harry turns to James, his face pinched. "Did Loki pull out my snake part, too?"James remembers Moody mentioning that the Dark Lord had a large snake as a pet and had hailed from Slytherin, the house associated with snakes. That Slytherin himself had been able to speak to snakes. Moody hadn't seemed particularly happy upon learning of Harry's ability.Had it been linked to the Dark Lord residing in Harry's head?James leads a morose Harry to the guest bedroom and does his best to explain his current theory.Harry frowns. "So talking to snakes is bad? But that snake helped us find Mr. Stark's house.""It's not bad," James tells him. "But the bad guy in your head could. Now that he's out, so is your ability to speak with snakes."Harry writhes around on the bed in frustration, almost like a snake would. When Harry's exhausted himself, he says "If Loki turns me into a snake, I can talk with them."James is very glad that Loki is several states away, though he could teleport here in an instant. "I like you as a human," James tells Harry."Would you love me if I was a snake?" Harry asks, face still muffled on the quilted bedspread.James sighs. "Yes, but I'd rather you stayed human.""What if I was a dog?" Harry asks, as Lucky noses his way into the room.James repeats that he'd rather Harry stayed human. Harry asks about a dozen more animals and James answers every question.Lucky hops up on the bed and rests his head in Harry's lap, gazing up at him with his one eye. Harry strokes Lucky's yellow fur, telling him he should get an eye like Moody's instead of a patch, because patches are for pirates. He glances at James's prosthesis and saysFootsteps creep toward the door, accompanied by some giggling. Cooper sticks his hand in the doorway. His hand and a good portion of his arm are covered by a green sock with googly eyes."You can talk with me, Harry. I'm Sock Snake. Are you happier now?" Harry nods, but Cooper doesn't see it. "What's your favorite game?"A smaller, orange snake puppet around the doorway, below Sock Snake. "Want to play trains?"Lucky bounds off the bed toward the children, and Harry follows downstairs.James had been wondering if Harry had outgrown trains, but Harry happily pushes them along the wooden tracks and links the magnetic train cars together. Harry makes the little figurines riding the train cars fall off when the train crosses a bridge, and James looks away to avoid flashing back to his fall.In Harry's game, the toys are either saved by his superhero figures, or float down gently as Harry and James had on the run.James finds himself studying the pictures of Barton's family on the wall. There are plenty throughout the house, including a digital frame that changes photos every ten seconds. Still, the household is not a shrine in the way Number Four, Privet Drive had been a shrine to Dudley Dursley.The photos show Cooper and Lila growing from babyhood to their current ages of seven and four, respectively.Unlike Barton and his wife, James himself has no personal memories of Harry's infancy. For once, the reason is not due to his memory wipes. He'd likely been cryogenically frozen during Harry's infancy.James realizes with another jolt that he has only the one photograph of Harry on the plane. He clenches his jaw, furious with himself, and resolves to rectify it.He, especially, should have been recording his memories with Harry, leaving behind proof that they happened, in case he needs to remember.James thumbs through the phone. There are several messages from Stark, reading Is Harry still distraught to be out of my presence? The message is immediately followed by Who wouldn't be?Stark had sent another message four minutes ago. Are you bored out in the middle of nowhere? Of course you are.James almost rolls his eyes. Steve's sent a few messages as well, but James scrolls to the camera application to ensure he'll capture these moments. He takes a few practice photos of Harry playing; the kids have moved from playing trains to building with blocks.Lila announces she's building a castle with the blocks. Harry takes this as an almost personal offense."Why a castle?""It's a hero castle.""Castles are for bad guys," Harry argues, then clamps his hand over his mouth like he's said a swear word. "An' the Queen. She's not bad! God save the Queen!""I'm the queen!" Lila announces, then casts Harry as her court wizard. Harry doesn't play along, instead focusing on building his tower as tall as possible."I'm a engineer like Mr. Stark said," Harry proclaims.James happens to get another message from Stark, as if his name summoned it. So, you're taciturn through texts, too.Harry's tower collapses, and he grabs some of the toy tools from the workbench to fix it, just like Stark. Harry spins the toy drill, seeming lost in his thoughts until he says "It's Stark's, not Grunning's!"James snaps several more photos of Harry playing, and Laura smiles knowingly, saying they have thousands of photos of the kids already.Despite having fought both Romanoff and Barton, James stops paying attention to how they're both highly capable assassins like him. Here at the house, they don't demonstrate those skills.Romanoff reads a book about a ballerina mouse to Lila, who's curled on her lap. Barton juggles items while Cooper tosses more for him to add to the spinning circle. When they sit down to dinner, there is some talk about what's happening in New York and the rest of the world, but the overall dinner conversation is more focused on Lila learning to dance, and Cooper's story of a friend laughing so hard milk came out his nose.Later that night, when Harry and James relax in their room, Harry chats with Jarvis, who connects them to a call. Harry's clearly homesick, and once the call ends, he immediately asks Jarvis what everyone is doing.James speaks up to ask if Jarvis can print his photos for when they get back."Of course. I trust you're aware that I've been recording all of your and Harry's activities in Sir's residences."James nods. Of course Jarvis is always watching and remembering. How else would he learn?"I've taken the liberty of composing an album for you." Jarvis helpfully pulls it up on the phone screen.James is speechless as he scrolls through them. Harry snuggles up close as they look at the candid photographs. James and Harry dressed as Batman and Robin. Both of them on the couch, watching a cartoon. Harry running around with childish exuberance. Hot chocolate in the early hours of the morning.There are even several photos at the mansion that Stark must have taken with his own phone; James reading to Harry, Harry riding his motorbroom.What strikes James is the change from the beginning to the end. To actually see the growth from a pale, malnourished boy with his shoulders constantly braced for a blow. Harry's shoulders relax as time passes in the photos, and James is startled to note less tension in his own shoulders as the photographs go on.As time passes, Harry starts smiling more. First, as he's hiding behind his Robin mask, but then he's smiling as Harry. Proudly holding up a drawing to show Jarvis, gathered with his favorite people. James notices his own face slowly appears less guarded. His face is still blank in most photos, he doesn't start beaming as Harry has, but there is an occasional small smile as his photographic self looks at Harry.Harry, of course, never seems off-put by it."There's our cake," the real Harry says, as the photo turns to what they'd been doing during the battle.James realizes that he's smiling now, unlike many of the photos. Even if he forgets, Jarvis won't, and Jarvis will remind him."Thank you,""It's my pleasure," Jarvis replies.Harry doesn't sleep well that night, and neither does James. They find Barton in the kitchen, and James isn't surprised. Barton probably has nightmares of Loki controlling him, if he was able to sleep at all.Barton raises his coffee mug in silent solidarity, not seeming inclined to talk, which suits James fine.Harry rummages through cupboards without any thought to being a guest. "Where's the hot cocoa?""All that sugar isn't going to help you sleep," Barton says, rather hypocritically considering the entire pot of caffeinated coffee that he's brewed.Barton directs them toward tea instead. The box shows a sleeping bear, and Harry looks skeptical."You like tea," James reminds Harry. He should have thought of the sugar he's been putting in Harry's body with all the cocoa; Jarvis had mentioned it once, but had clearly been used to people ignoring his health advice.Harry is quite adept at making tea; James doubts Lila could do it with the same practiced experience."Look at us," Barton mumbles over his coffee. "The brainwashed buddies club. You had something bad in your head, too, huh?" he asks Harry."Loki took it out,""Here's hoping he's out of mine," Barton grumbles, rubbing his temple. He downs the rest of his mug and refills it from the pot.James wouldn't wish what he went through on anyone; even Barton's experience, while less extreme, is more than James would wish on anyone. Barton didn't deserve it.Neither did we, Bucky says, yet his voice is oddly reminiscent of Professor Xavier's.James feels awful for it, but it's almost nice knowing someone experienced something similar to him, even if it wasn't as bad and wasn't for as long. He feels guilty for thinking it, but he can't shake the thought, either.Barton is no telepath, but he lifts his mug to James in a sardonic toast.James notices Barton checks his reflection frequently, as if to ensure his eyes aren't blue like the scepter.Romanoff joins them first, her hair and makeup already flawless.Laura is next, her hair tied up. She takes in her husband's bedhead and exhausted expression, yet still seems to think he looks as perfect as Romanoff.When Cooper and Lila trudge downstairs, Barton forces a happy face, joking as he makes pancakes. All three children insist on helping. In Lila's case, this means getting flour across the counter and on her own shirt, while Cooper gets half the shell in the egg bowl."You're really good," Cooper compliments as Harry flawlessly measures ingredients and mixes."I'm going to cook for hungry people when I grow up,""I'm hungry!" Lila shouts.Cooper insists he's hungrier than Lila.Harry's still beaming with pride, but James clenches his fists under the bar. Harry shouldn't have to be this good at cooking, and he should think of hunger the same way the Barton children do, rather than his personal experience with starvation.By the time everyone sits down with stacks of pancakes and a jug of syrup, James has calmed his own breathing. There's no changing the past, but he'll make sure Harry always gets to eat now."Easy for you to guarantee that," Bucky says. James ignores him."You said cocoa had too much sugar," James points out as he reads the nutrition facts on the back of the jug. Barton raises his hands in surrender.Harry tries to help with the dishes, seeming somewhat off-put when Laura won't hear of him helping. Barton washes while Laura dries.Cooper asks Harry if he can ride a bike."I can fly," Harry answers."Make sure to share," Laura calls as she follows the kids outside.Cooper and Lila pedal around the driveway. Harry watches Lila's tricycle rather enviously, but doesn't ask to ride it. Instead, he runs back inside for his broom and races across the grass.Cooper stops to watch, open-jawed, as Harry zooms across the field. Laura calls Harry back, finding an old helmet and insisting Harry wear it. She glances at James, as if to ensure he'll enforce a helmet in the future.James feels as if he's failed a mission.James wonders if Harry will share; he'd been rather possessive of his figures at the park, but for most of his life, he'd been on the end of someone not sharing with him.Harry happily switches with Lila, riding her tricycle as she attempts to ride his broom. Her legs pedal in midair, and she clearly doesn't have the natural talent Harry has.James takes a few photos of Harry on the tricycle, before Jarvis suggests a video.Lila squeals and hangs on for dear life. Gripping it tightly, of course, makes it go faster until she tumbles off onto the grass, rolling harmlessly.Harry climbs off the tricycle, running over to her. "Try holding it with your legs too," he suggests.Lila pops up to try again, until Cooper argues that it's his turn to fly.Despite the bickering, the farmhouse is the most peaceful place they've visited in a while, but it's not home. James hopes it will last; their whole reason for being here is getting away from all that. They haven't mentioned any prior attacks, but that was before Barton became a world-famous superhero.James pulls out his phone and sends Stark a picture of Harry riding Lila's tricycle. He can picture Stark's look of mock outrage, and can imagine the man's rant about Harry's opting for such a common and simple ride over the technological masterpiece that is the motorbroom.This house and farm are welcoming, but they don't truly feel like home without Stark, Logan Steve and the rest of their family. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Harry likes the Bartons, but he misses home. When he plays hide-and-go-seek, there's no Jarvis to talk to. Harry hides for so long that he starts to think Lila forgot about him, and crawls out from the cabinet under the bathroom sink."Where were you?" Lila asks, but Harry doesn't answer. Hiding places are supposed to be a secret.Dad looks sad that Harry was hiding so long, so they stop playing hide-and-go-seek. Instead, they run laps from room to room.Cooper and Lila keep asking Harry about magic powers, and it's making Harry think of all the family he and Dad left behind. He tells them all about his family back home, and shares his superhero toys with them.His superhero toys are just the right size for the dollhouse. Lila plays superhero family, which makes Harry miss them even more, and he tells her more about his real family.Lila also plays a game called Logan's Kitchen. In that game, Harry's Wolverine toy is a grumpy chef who yells lots of beeps."Logan only yells when he's fighting," Harry tells her. He's grumpy, but Lila's making him scream at people about how useless they are, like Aunt 'Tuna did. Lila tells him about a Gordon on the telly yells lots of beeped out words, but that doesn't sound like Gordon from Batman or Gordon the green engine."Logan smokes sticks, but they're bad." Harry shares, and shows her by trying to wedge a toothpick in his toy's mouth. It's supposed to be on fire, and suddenly the end of the toothpick starts to smoke.Lila blows on it like a candle, then proudly puts on a firefighter hat, saying she put out the fire. She parades around the house, saying she saved their house from burning down.Cooper turns to Harry. "Was that magic?"Harry nods."Did you set things on fire before?""I blowed up the telly," Harry says.Cooper looks awed. He picks up his own Iron Man toy and asks Harry if he can make it shoot real blasts."Not in the house," Mr. Barton warns, then changes to "Not at all. That's not safe."Once Lila stops marching around in her firefighter hat, she comes back to play more superhero family.Harry makes his toy Iron Man build stuff with blocks in the dollhouse garage, wishing his toy looked like Mr. Stark instead of Iron Man. Lila makes Iron Man kiss her dolls. Harry snatches Iron Man away, but Mr. Barton claims that's totally in character, whatever that means.Harry asks Jarvis to call Mr. Stark."You bored yet?" Mr. Stark asks."Really bored. Do you kiss lots of ladies?"Mr. Stark starts laughing, too, but Harry doesn't get why kissing is so funny. Mr. Stark says a lot of the women he kissed looked like Lila's dolls, which is just weird."Were they plastic?" Harry asks seriously, but that just makes Mr. Stark and Mr. Barton laugh even more."Imagine Tony Stark being that desperate," Mr. Barton gasps, seeming barely able to breathe with how hard he's laughing.Harry goes over and pokes Mr. Barton in the ribs. "Stop," he frowns. "You die if you don't breathe."Slowly, Mr. Barton starts breathing again, and stops laughing."You never kissed Merida!" Lila waves her favorite doll at the camera. Merida has red hair and a bow, like Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Barton put together. Lila says Merida's from a movie that's not even out yet, and she doesn't think Merida will kiss anyone.Cooper seems to find it hard to speak, simply staring at Mr. Stark and the others in the call in awe."I don't bite, kid." Mr. Stark tells him.Cooper's mouth opens and shuts a few times. His voice is far quieter when he can talk. "Thank you for saving the world.""You didn't thank me," Mr. Barton grumbles. "I'm a hero, and you talk to me just fine.""You're dad," Cooper says simply.Mr. Barton acts like he's been hurt, but Harry can tell he's faking. Mostly.Harry talks some more with his family, and Lila asks lots of questions about magic. Thor tries to answer some, but Loki isn't going on the call because Mr. Barton doesn't like him.When they hang up, Harry's not very enthusiastic about turning back to his toys. They seem so tiny and plastic, and he doesn't even have toys of his Grandpa'fessor, or Beast, or Storm, Ms. Grey, Thor and Loki. Lila has several dark-skinned dolls, but none of them have white hair like Storm does.That night, they watch a movie about a boy named Wart who meets an old wizard who looks like Dumb-Bell-Door. The wizard has a talking owl, like the one that found them before they got kidnapped.The television switches off even though nobody touched the remote, and Jarvis can't control it here. Harry stomps upstairs, even as Cooper and Lila tell him Merlin is a good wizard who turns Wart into animals.Dad joins Harry in their room."I'm not watching that dumb Dumb-Bell-Door movie!" Harry crosses his arms and stays on the bed."You don't have to," Dad tells him.It feels odd to be turning down the telly.Soon, Mr. Barton's knocking on the door. "Harry, we can watch something else. There are some movies I can't watch now, after everything. I couldn't even get through Obi-Wan's Jedi mind tricks.""But I blowed up the telly,""You just shut it off. Which is great, you'll never have to reach for the remote in your life," Mr. Barton sounds like he's smiling. "Want to see a movie about a dog playing basketball? We can make some popcorn, you can snuggle up with Lucky."Harry nods, glances at Dad, and they head downstairs to the couch."If someone's scared, we change the movie," Lila tells him, like it's a family rule."I wasn't scared!" Harry says. "He's just dumb, is all.""There's nothing wrong with being scared," Mr. Barton tells them. Harry considers this. It's odd, realizing even superheroes like Dad and Mr. Barton get scared of things, like people going in their brains. When Harry was littler, he thought heroes were fearless. But even Mr. Stark's scared of caves, which is why he doesn't have an Iron Cave.Harry likes the movie about the basketball dog a lot more, and Cooper says he hasn't been able to teach Lucky to play yet."Too bad you can't talk dog," Cooper tells him, as Air Bud sinks a basket. "You could explain the rules in a way he understands."Lucky doesn't know how to play basketball, but the next day, Harry learns that Lucky loves to fetch balls, sticks and arrows.Harry never really got Steve's shield, but he's found that throwing a frisbee is really fun, once it stops hitting the ground as soon as he throws it. Mrs. Barton shows him how to keep it flat when he throws, so it flies far.Lucky bounds after it, bringing it back every time.Mr. Barton even shoots safe practice arrows for Lucky to fetch. Lila and Cooper eagerly join Mr. Barton in shooting, and there's even a spare bow for Harry."Dad said he doesn't want me to fight," Harry frowns slightly. Dad's gone inside, leaving Harry outside with the Bartons."We're not fighting." Lila pulls back the string and lets go. The arrow falls into the grass. "I want to shoot like Merida!""But not like me?" Mr. Barton shakes his head.Harry laughs, because Mr. Stark's not around here to laugh."Archery can be fighting, but it's also a sport. An olympic sport." Mr. Barton tells Harry. "They're in London this year. I could win gold, if it weren't for confidentiality issues,""You're an Avenger now," Mrs. Barton calls from the porch, where she's sipping coffee. "I think your days of anonymity are over."Mr. Barton walks over to kiss Mrs. Barton. Cooper pretends to gag."We all know you're the real hero, here." Mr. Barton winks, and Mrs. Barton looks like she's trying to be stern but laughing too."I mean it," Mr. Barton says, leaning down to kiss her again. "Holding down the fort while I'm gone, making sure our amazing kids turn out right.""This is more my fort." Mrs. Barton kisses him back. "I'm here all the time.""You kiss more than Mister Stark," Harry tells them as he climbs up the stairs. He goes inside and shouts "Dad! Can we go to London to watch sports?!""They have sports closer," Dad says, almost smiling, though he hadn't looked happy when he was writing in his journal right before now. "We have TV now."They always had telly, even if Harry hadn't always been allowed to watch."The London games!" Harry says. "Mr. Barton's going to win archery, and there's Quidditch,""I believe Master Harry is referring to the Summer Olympic Games, which will be held in London from July 27 through August 12." says Jarvis helpfully from Dad's phone."I've never been to London," Harry had always wanted to. The Dursleys had gone, but left Harry in the cupboard all day with no meals. "I wanna see Quidditch! And a real basketball dog!""Despite the recent reveal of magic, I've seen no news of Quidditch being recognized as an Olympic sport, Master Harry. Furthermore, the Olympics only allow human contestants. There is currently a great deal of debate about whether mutants should be allowed, or whether their mutations would give them an unfair advantage."Harry tries to figure that out, and Jarvis explains "Mutant powers might make it too easy to win against humans without powers. Imagine Mr. Logan in a fencing match; it would be entirely too easy for him.""Of course he'd beat a fence," Harry laughs. Jarvis doesn't laugh, he never does, but he explains fencing is like a sword fight."He'd beat fencing swords," Mr. Barton says, strolling into the house. "Those things bend like crazy, more than my bow, for crying out loud."A holographic video shines from Dad's phone, showing two people with blank faces and white clothes swinging bendy swords at each other."He'd cut through any sword!" Harry cheers. "Why can't mutants enter? They're people too."Before Jarvis can explain it again, Cooper comes in to ask Harry if he wants to see his secret hideout.Harry thought he'd already found all the hideouts playing hide-and-go-seek, but Cooper leads him down to the basement. Harry's never been in a basement before; Mr. Stark's lab in his old house doesn't count, because Harry could still look down at the ocean.Cooper leads Harry to a door under the stairs, and Harry's shocked when he pulls it open.Inside the cupboard, Cooper flicks on a bright light that's not just a bulb. Harry sees more pillows than Harry can count along with toys and books. He never had these in his own cupboard.Harry flops on one of the pillows. "I bet being locked in here's actually fun."Cooper gives Harry a strange look. "I don't get locked in here,""Not even when you're bad?" Harry asks. His Grandpa'fessor and Mr. Stark keep telling him most families don't lock kids in cupboards, that the Dursleys were horrible for doing so, but what else are cupboards for?"No," Cooper says. Lila starts to come in, and Cooper yells "Get out, Lila! No sisters!"Lila starts to argue, and Cooper begins shoving Lila out the door. Harry watches, wondering why they aren't teaming up to shove him in here before running off to play together.Lila storms up the steps above them, yelling "Mommy! Cooper pushed me! And he won't let me in the cupboard!""We should let her," Harry says. He likes Lila, and he doesn't think Ms. Jean or Storm or Jubilee would like that they're saying Lila can't come in. It's too much like what Dudley and Piers would do."Yeah, maybe," Cooper says, though he seems a lot more convinced when Mrs. Barton comes down the steps.Harry shrinks back into the corner of the cupboard, but Mrs. Barton calls Cooper out of it. She doesn't yell, or threaten, or slap him. She just tells him that he needs to let everyone play, and reminds him it's just as much Lila's hideaway as it is his. That if he wants somewhere that's all his own, he can go to his bedroom."Harry, honey, are you okay?" Mrs. Barton, even more gently than Dad."He thought you locked us in," Cooper tells her quietly.Mrs. Barton frowns. "Oh, Harry, no."Harry doesn't get what the big deal is. He was safe in his old cupboard, and this one's a lot nicer. The rug in here is softer than his old mattress."Come on, let's get out of here," Cooper mutters, crawling out of the cupboard.Harry leaves to grab Dad's phone so he can talk to Jarvis, but finds himself back at the cupboard. It's like his blanket fort back at the tower, before Loki made it big inside.Harry, Lila and Cooper spend a while drawing pictures to put on the cupboard walls, and Harry takes some photos, just like Dad's been doing.At the end of the day, Dad pulls up the photos. Harry scrolls backward and sees himself riding Lila's tricycle. Cooper and Lila had begged Harry to make the tricycle fly like the motorbroom, but Harry couldn't.Mr. Stark had been the one to make his motorbroom fly. He'd made the whole motorbroom."Mr. Stark could make the tricycle fly," Harry misses him a lot, even more than when he went off to HYDRA bases. At least then he was with his X-family.Dad nods. "He could, but you've already got a motorbroom.""When are we going home?" Harry stares out the window. The big yard looks a little like the big yard at their school home where they live with the X-Men."In a few days," Dad tells him."I want to go now," Harry whines, not realizing that he sounds like Dudley until after he's said it.Harry scrolls back on the phone to the pictures Jarvis and Mr. Stark took, with his family in their real homes. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The next morning is a school day. Mr. and Mrs. Barton are rushing around, packing lunches and telling Cooper and Lila to hurry.Harry hurries too. He’s excited to go to nursery school with Lila. His home school is amazing because of all the mutants, but everyone there is so much bigger and older than Harry. Harry’s found he likes playing with other children, and Lila says all the kids in her “preschool” are really nice. Harry didn’t know they called it preschool over here. People in America talk funny.Harry finishes eating before anyone else and brings his bowl to the dishwasher. “I’m ready!” he announces.Mrs. Barton does that grownup look that means she thinks he’s funny but also sad at the same time.Mr. Barton ruffles Harry’s long hair. “You’re staying here with us, buddy.”“Can I stay too?” Cooper asks, scowling when his dad says no.Harry’s scowling too. He’s never been to nursery or preschool before. He always wanted to go when Dudley went (but at the same time was glad Dudley wasn’t around). The Bartons are way better than the Dursleys, but they still aren’t letting him go!Harry watches glumly as Lila and Cooper climb in the car. He climbs onto his motorbroom and starts to follow the car, but Dad catches up, hauls him back to the house and takes his broom away.The house feels emptier than Mr. Stark’s house and tower. It’s far too quiet.Mrs. Barton sits down to work. She says she’s drawing a house, but it just looks like a bunch of boxes.“You need a door,” Harry tells her. “And windows and a roof.”“It’s the inside,” Mrs. Barton explains. She uses a long, flat stick to draw a perfect line. It’s not a wand.Mrs. Barton points at different rectangles. “Here are the bedrooms, the hallway, and the bathroom.”There are no beds in the bedroom boxes. Harry points this out, and Mrs. Barton laughs.She hands him a sheet of paper and points at the art stuff. “Draw your own house.”Harry doesn’t know whether to draw Mr. Stark’s house or his Grandpa’fessor’s, but that’s a school too. Harry can’t even draw a box that doesn’t look squished and bent. He scribbles over his paper, getting his mad out. If Steve was here, he could draw anything and make it look real. Dad says Steve isn’t magical, but his drawings are.Mrs. Barton still hasn’t drawn any beds or anything in her boxes, and she’s taking forever.Harry goes to find Dad. Dad’s talking on the phone, but Harry can’t tell what he’s saying. Not one word. Sometimes Dad talks like that, but now Harry worries. He can’t understand snakes now; what if he’ll never know what Dad is saying?Harry tugs on Dad’s metal hand. “What are you talking about?”Dad pulls the phone away and says “Nothing.” Harry understands that, but Dad switches to talking in nonsense words when he talks in the phone.Harry tugs his arm again. Dad gently pushes him to go play.Harry’s bored, and lonely. He misses Lila and Cooper. There weren’t any other kids at Mr. Stark’s house, and the kids at his Grandpa’fessor’s are all older. Harry sits in the cozy cupboard. He brings his hero toys, but Iron Man just says things like “I am Iron Man.”Harry and Cooper had planned to sneak in a laptop so it would be like the Batcave. Harry hadn’t known what a laptop was, and Cooper had been amazed hearing Harry talk of floating screens. Harry goes hunting for a laptop and finds one that must be Mr. or Mrs. Barton’s. He hugs the computer to his chest and crawls back in the cozy cupboard. Harry opens the laptop and sees a white rectangle over a photo of the Barton family. He’d seen Mr. and Mrs. Barton type things into white rectangles, but Harry doesn’t know how to spell many words.“Jarvis, it’s me. Harry.” Harry’s throat feels tight. “Can we talk? Everyone’s busy. I’m in the cozy cupboard.”Jarvis doesn’t answer, and Harry reminds himself that Jarvis only ever answers from Dad’s phone here. Harry doesn’t think Dad’s talking to Jarvis. He can still hear Dad upstairs, talking in words Harry doesn’t know.Harry tries hitting the keys with the letters in his name. H-A-R-R-Y. The computer must be broken, because all the letters show up as little black dots, even while he’s wearing his glasses. They always showed words for Mr. and Mrs. Barton.Harry’s almost sure he won’t be slapped or screamed at for breaking the computer, but he still hides it under one of the cushions in the cozy cupboard.Dad’s still on the phone, and Mrs. Barton is still working. Mr. Barton is still out with the car.Harry stays in the cozy cupboard for a while, hoping nobody notices the missing computer. Will they think Lila or Cooper broke it? Harry always got blamed for things Dudley did, and this was really him. Even if it was Lila or Cooper, he’d probably be punished anyway.Harry squeezed his eyes shut and shouts in his head. “ GRANDPA’FESSOR !”“Who’s he again?” Mrs. Barton asks, opening the cupboard door. Harry realizes he’d shouted out loud.“He doesn’t have any hair.” Harry tells her. “And he drives a chair ‘cos he can’t walk.”“He can’t hear you, sweetie. When your dad’s done calling, you can call him”“I can call him in my head,” Harry insists. “He can read heads, and go in heads.”Mrs. Barton blinks and says nothing for a bit. “I forgot there are so many powers.”“He’s a good guy.” Harry tells her.“Well, don’t spend the whole day in your cozy cupboard,” Mrs. Barton gives him another sad smile. “You should be getting fresh air and sunlight.”“Can I ride my motorbroom?” Harry asks. It’s Mrs. Barton’s house, so if she says yes, maybe Dad will have to let him. But Mrs. Barton smiles again and tells him “That’s up to your dad.”She leaves, and Harry realizes she hadn’t asked about the computer. He almost hadn’t been scared of her asking, except he still doesn’t know what the punishment will be.Eventually, Dad comes and coaxes Harry out of the cupboard, offering to play catch. Harry leans on the cushion to hide the computer even more, then realizes a corner of the computer is poking out from underneath the cushion.Dad says nothing about it. He and Harry play catch, but now that Harry’s up, he can hardly stand still to catch the ball. He asks for his motorbroom, but Dad says no.Harry pouts, but Dad doesn’t change his mind.“Who were you talking to?” Harry asks.“Romanoff.”Harry scrunches his nose. “Is she going to be my new Mummy? Ms. Jean’s better.”Dad actually laughs. “No, she told me that mind control will likely be a legitimate defense in court. I’ll be cleared, and Clint.”Harry doesn’t know what that means, but he’s happy Romanoff won’t be his mummy.Harry rides Lila’s tricycle around and around, but it’s not nearly as fun as riding with Lila and Cooper.“When will they get home?” he asks.“Lila and Clint will be home in a few hours,” Mrs. Barton tells him. “Then Cooper comes later,”Harry wanders the house. Dad crouches and asks, “What’s wrong?”Dad’s never hit him, never shouted except for nightmares.Harry makes sure that Mrs. Barton is several rooms away and whispers “A bad wizard broke the computer.”Dad stares at him and says, in a flat voice, “A bad wizard appeared, broke the computer and vanished.”Harry nods.Still in the same flat voice, Dad says, “Usually they try to hurt us.”Harry glances away, then back into Dad’s blue eyes. They seem a bit happier than they used to be. They aren’t far away now.“He wasn’t that bad,”Dad barks out a laugh and reaches into his pocket with his skin hand. He pulls out his phone and says “Sounds like a question for Stark. Or Jarvis.”Harry grins and takes the phone. They can fix anything except heads, and maybe Mr. and Mrs. Barton will never know the computer was broken.Harry goes back to the cozy cupboard and pulls the computer out.“Jarvis?”He lets out a big breath when Jarvis speaks out of the phone. “How may I assist you, Master Harry?” “The computer broke,” Harry says. “And Lila got to go to nursery preschool but not me,”“ Did you drop the computer? Did the screen crack?” “It makes dots instead of letters,” Harry says. “And I’m wearing my glasses.” “Is it alright if I turn on the camera, Master Harry?” Harry nods. He’d forgotten that Jarvis can’t already see him.“ If you show me what’s wrong, I’ll likely be able to assist you,” Harry shows Jarvis the screen with the Barton family and the white rectangle and how any letter he hits shows up as a dot.Jarvis never laughs, but he clearly thinks it’s funny when he talks. “That’s the lock screen, Master Harry.” “Mr. and Mrs. Barton typed words into the white rectangles, not dots.” “I suspect they were using a search engine, Master Harry. A lock screen requires a password to keep the user’s information secure. I could hack in, but it would be ill manners to do that to your hosts and friends. That wouldn’t stop Mr. Stark, of course, but I often find myself acting as his moral compass. An often ignored moral compass.” Harry scrunches his nose. Usually Jarvis uses easier words than Mr. Stark, but he has no idea what Jarvis is talking about. “I apologize. I digress, Master Harry. The computer is not broken. It is merely keeping their information relatively secure from amateur hackers.” Harry doesn’t understand most of that, either, but he understands that the computer isn’t broken. He grins and hugs the phone to his cheek. “You’re the best, Jarvis!” “It was my pleasure, Master Harry. And I’ll be sure to update Sir about my promotion to ‘the best’.” Harry bursts out of the cupboard and runs through the house, cheering “I didn’t break the computer!”He finds Mr. Barton and Lila have come back, and are sharing a bowl of fruit in the kitchen.“I didn’t break the computer!” Harry says again.“That’s good,” Lila says. “Mommy and Daddy would be mad.”Mr. Barton shrugs. “I spilled coffee on two computers. Besides, even if you had broken it, you live with Tony Stark.”“Not now,” Harry interrupts. “I’m here.”“Right, well, Tony could fork out the cash for a hundred new ones, even if you had. So, how did you not-break it?”“It had little dots, not letters.” Harry is proud to share this new knowledge. “Jarvis said it’s a password. What’s your password? Wait, I know! Hawkeye! How do you spell it?”“That’s my codename,” Mr. Barton says. “And if you tell Tony to hack into my computer, you’re going to be in big trouble, mister.”Harry should be scared. Trouble always meant more pain, more hunger, or bad guys trying to get them. But he’s not scared of Mr. Barton, even though he fought Dad at first.“I’m afraid you’re too late, Agent Barton,” Jarvis says from the phone, still sounding cheerful. Mr. Barton jumps. “ Sir has already snooped around. I told him it’s impolite, but he’s never let social niceties stop him.” Mr. Barton jumps out of his chair, shouting as if Mr. Stark’s on the phone, too. “Stark!”Harry giggles. He and Lila race back to their cozy cupboard. Harry still has the phone clutched in his hand.“Is there anything else I might assist you with?” Jarvis asks.Harry nods. “I want to go to nursery preschool with Lila tomorrow.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The voices in James’s head argue about their return SAFETY MUST BE ASSESSED. New York’s home. Bucky points out. Besides, we have more backup there. It’s easier to hide in a crowd. “You can come to my home,” Harry offers to the Bartons as they watch the Blackbird seemingly appear in the middle of the wide, unobstructed sky. With magic, it could have easily been teleported, rather than flying in stealth mode.“My home is a school,” Harry shares for the hundredth time. “So nobody can be left behind.”Harry never had gone to school with Lila, much to both children’s disappointment. Jarvis had updated the homeschool curriculum and schedule that they’d used at Xavier’s Institute, so Harry had his own stories to share with Lila and Cooper the following days. Harry hadn’t been quite as upset about being left behind. HOMESCHOOLING IS A TOUGHER MISSION THAN PROTECTION. James’s inner voice had groused while trying to keep Harry’s attention on tracing letters rather than the window. As jealous as Harry had been, he wasn’t the most attentive student.“Your home’s a magic school,” Cooper is clearly as jealous of Harry’s home as Harry was of his.“A mutant school,” Harry corrects. He starts to lead Lila to the jet, but Clint stops them.“Can we go, Daddy? Please?!” Lila makes her eyes wide and pleading. Clint shakes his head as the ramp lowers. “I want you away from all the commotion.”“But they fixed New York,” Cooper acts as if it’s perfectly normal for massive infrastructure damage to be repaired in a week. James has seen news clips of tirades about how mutants, witches and wizards hadn’t helped rebuild quickly after other disasters that James does not remember. Clint had assured James that the Soldier hadn’t caused those disasters.The reassurance had only slightly settled James’s mind. The Soldier had caused plenty of disasters regardless.“You can meet my family, when you come over,” Harry says, snapping James out of his thoughts.Clint nods at the jet. “Looks like we’ll be meeting now.”Cooper goes slack-jawed when he sees who emerges.“I know, I’m better in the flesh,” Tony Stark grins, sauntering down the ramp. “I was going to fly over myself and give you an Iron Man welcome, but this is supposed to be a safe house and all. And your dad would probably turn me into a porcupine if I led the paparazzi here.”“Dad’s not magical,” Cooper says, completely missing that Stark meant Barton would stick him full of arrows. Barton makes a wounded face.“Where’s Thor?!” Lila asks. She’d grown to love him over their video chats, and had heard Laura mention how handsome and muscular he was. Clint had petulantly pointed out that drawing his bows required plenty of muscles, thank you very much.“Not here,” Tony says. “That man wouldn’t know subtlety if it hit him with his own hammer. Plus he’s still babysitting his baby bro.”“Look who’s talking,” Clint snarks, though even the offhand mention of Loki makes him go as taut as his bowstring.“Hey, I came here in this stealthy jet!” Tony argues. “And I kept Harry and James secret just as well as you kept your family secret. Even better, really, because up until last week, you weren’t a celebrity sought after by every reporter in the world,”“But everyone knows me!” Harry points out. “I’m not a secret. Everyone’s after me.”Tony pauses, mid-brag, and points a finger at Harry. “You’re picking up too much sassiness from Jarvis,”Barton hacks a fake cough, disguising the words “Or you,”Professor X rolls down the ramp, followed by Logan. Logan nods at James but folds his hairy arms with an impatient scowl.Lila isn’t deterred by Logan’s gruff demeanor. She walks right up to him and states “Harry says you don’t yell at people in the kitchen,”“I do if they take my food,” Logan seems vaguely amused, though still impatient.“You’d roar at Dudley,” Harry grins almost wickedly, clearly imagining his cousin’s face facing the wrath of Wolverine.“How’d the Barton Barnes Olympics go?” Stark asks, clearly eager to switch the topic to Harry’s more recent, happier childhood memories.Harry, Lila and Cooper launch into long-winded descriptions of the games Clint had set up over the week. Some were carnival games that sent flashes of memories of a place Bucky identified as Coney Island. Harry’s magic had shrunk the bottle the ring had to go over, ensuring him the prize.“And we did basketball, too, only no Quidditch ’cos we only have one motorbroom.”Tony beams. He makes a gesture and two more motorbrooms fly out of the aircraft, heading straight for Lila and Cooper and vibrating like excited puppies. “Thank you!” both children scream loud enough that even Clint winces with his hearing aid. “Now we can play Quidditch!” Harry cheers, grabbing his own broom and completely forgetting his eagerness to leave. Logan huffs as the children zoom around the yard. Lucky chases the broomsticks, tail swinging as if trying to propel himself into the air with the children.Stark explains that the brooms’ AI also keeps them from doing dangerous stunts.Laura looks skeptical about that claim, having seen some of the maneuvers Harry has pulled on his motorbroom.Stark reaches into his pocket with a grin. “Speaking of which, I do have something for the older members of the family.”“I’m younger than you,” Clint snipes, though he’s smiling too. “And don’t call my wife old,”Stark pulls out two brand new StarkPhones and offers them with a cocky flourish. “For secure Avengers communication,” he says to Clint, then turns to Laura. “And because it’d be unfair for you not to have one. Jarvis is ready to assist you both. How you manage all their schedules without Jarvis is beyond me, but trust me, you won’t forget anything with him. Even things you’d like to forget.”“Like nightmares!” Harry shouts, still eavesdropping as he streaks by. Lila and Cooper hover to admire the fancy new phones.“Sorry, none for you,” Tony tells them. Both children pout, and Laura tells them to be thankful for what they did receive. “Your mom and I didn’t get brooms,” Clint points out, sounding a touch disappointed. Laura playfully smacks him upside the head, telling him he’s a bad example.Tony launches into a technical description of a broom Clint could control with his legs, to allow him to draw and shoot a bow while flying.James loads their bags into the jet, and tells Harry it’s time to depart. Harry hugs all the Bartons, clearly reluctant to let go.James recalls Bucky’s goodbye to Steve, before the war. There’s fewer insults in this goodbye, but just as much hugging.“I have your photos, so I won’t forget what you look like,” Harry tells the Barton family sincerely. James won’t forget, either, thanks to Jarvis.The children prolong their departure by shouting bye sixty-seven times, each child wanting to be the one to say the last goodbye. At last, they’re strapped into the jet. Harry hadn’t even suggested flying behind it this time. He continues to wave out the window, as the take off and the Barton farm disappears below them.Upon their return to the Xavier Institute, Moody clumps up to them, both eyes scanning Harry. “Still in one piece,” he says approvingly. MOODY NEGLECTED HIS DUTY TO PROTECT HARRY. James’s inner voice is unimpressed. Probably didn’t want to stay with Muggles, Bucky adds scathingly, though Moody has been living with Stark and James.“I’ve got something for you, laddie,” Moody pulls a photo album out of his robe.Harry stares at it, nonplussed. “A book?”“Open it,” Moody growls, handing it over.Harry plops on the floor and flips the album open. “It’s a telly photo.”Moody had mentioned that magical photos could move, but it seems slightly less impressive compared to Stark’s holograms and phones, which play videos.The first page has a moving photograph of baby Harry. James has never seen Harry as a baby, but recognizes his son’s eyes and black hair, though it was far shorter then than James has ever seen it. The scar is noticeably absent from his forehead. Cute little punk, Bucky says, affectionately, and James suddenly wishes he’d been able to feel the weight of baby Harry in his arms, and had been able to rest Harry’s head on his shoulder far sooner. He wishes his assassination of the Dursleys had been that Halloween night, the same night Harry’s parents had been assassinated by Voldemort. If only he’d been able to take Harry then and run, saving them both three years of torment. Harry would have never known the pain those years would bring, so long as James avoided HYDRA. James doesn’t remember all the tortures he’s gone through, but three fewer years would have been nice. James tears his eyes away from baby Harry and he sees who’s holding him in the photograph. Lily and James Potter.Harry strokes Lily’s red hair. “Mummy?”“That’s Lily,” Moody growls in confirmation. Lily has Harry’s eyes, just as Moody had told them, but aside from that, Harry strongly resembles his father. They have the same messy hair, the same face, and James feels a stab of jealousy.Anyone would argue that Harry would have been best off with James Potter, not the James he has now. In the photo, James and Lily cuddle baby Harry close, all three of them smiling. James holds Harry often, but he doesn’t remember ever smiling like that.Stark’s hand lands on James’s prosthetic shoulder, right above the star. “He has your hair, really,” Tony remarks, nodding at Harry’s long hair falling around his chin.Harry flips the page after only 15 seconds and laughs at the next photo. Baby Harry races in and out of the frame on a miniature broomstick as Lily’s legs chase after him.“Looks like you were always a gifted flier,” James says. Harry beams up at him, his smile as wide as his carefree baby smile in the photographs. “And Pepper says I’m irresponsible for giving you a motorbroom when you’re a big boy,” Tony exclaims, throwing his hands up. “Think she’ll get off my case if I show her this?”Moody shares some stories of James and Lily and Baby Harry, as well as a large, bearlike black dog called Snuffles in the next photograph. Snuffles was apparently a stray that the Potters sometimes fed and housed.“He was quite the guard dog,” Moody says. “Always watching you. Gave you rides, too. Very protective, but he wasn’t there after the attack.”Harry’s first question is “Did he die?”“I don’t know.” Moody says. “Don’t know if he was there that night.”“Did Snuffles eat poo like Nighty? Lucky doesn’t eat poo, but we pick it up in a bag.”Moody doesn’t deign that with an answer.“Where did you get these?” James demands. Clearly, this is what Moody had been doing rather than guarding them at the Bartons’.“He got some from You-Know-Who,” Tony says conspiratorially.Both of Moody’s eyes fix on Tony as he snarls “I did not get them from Voldemort.” “I meant the Gandalf wannabe,” Tony rolls his eyes as Harry flips the page again, jabbing at a brown-haired man who seems older and more ragged than Lily and James, despite appearing to be the same age. Younger than when I shipped out, Bucky sounds sad that they’d faced a war even before him.The photo is obviously torn, but Harry focuses on the people in the photo rather than the clear absence.“Who’s that?” Harry jabs the man with dark circles under his eyes.“That’s Remus,” Moody says. “He’s like Banner.”“He’s a doctor?” Harry asks. Moody huffs. “He can get a bit out of control,” “What, are you going to tell us he’s a vampire or something? He looks pale enough,” Tony studies the picture critically. “Or maybe he’s a werewolf that goes feral every full moon?”James can’t tell if Tony’s joking or not, but Moody’s silence is telling.“You know, I’m not even surprised werewolves are real at this point.” Tony sighs. Harry clearly doesn’t know what a werewolf is, and James isn’t any more knowledgeable. Harry barely listens to Moody’s description of the small, mousy man, Peter Pettigrew.Harry hugs the book to his chest and runs to find Banner. He slams the book on the table, making Banner jump.Harry flips through the album, giving Banner a tour.“Look, here’s my Mummy, and my first James dad. And there’s Snuffles, he’s as good as Lucky. And my dad now’s better ‘cos he’s not dead.”Harry turns to beam at James, but James feels death would have been a better end for Bucky than becoming the Soldier. Life ain’t so bad now. Bucky argues. We’ve got Harry, Steve and all the others. More stuff than we could ever imagine in the thirties. Harry turns back to the album. “And that’s Remus. He gets really, really angry like you and turns into a wolf.”“He’s a werewolf,” Tony clarifies, sidling up behind Harry. “So, only once a month, on the full moon. Apparently stories got that right.”Harry winds up grabbing the attention of Colossus and Storm, showing them the album with Bruce. Despite all he shares, it’s obvious Harry has fewer firsthand memories of his babyhood than even James has of his life before becoming the Winter Soldier.“Snuffles liked the sprinkler,” Harry shares, before suddenly shouting “Jarvis, can you show the Barton Barnes Games?”“Of course, Master Harry.” Jarvis says from the phone in James’s pocket. “ Although your father will need to remove his phone from his pocket,” James pulls out his phone, and Jarvis plays the videos James took of the ring throwing games, foot races, hurdles. Next come the bike races and basketball. James watches Harry dive over sprinklers with Lila, Cooper and Lucky and bounce on the trampoline.Harry turns back to the book, but begins talking to Lily and James Potter in the photos. “They’re my new family. He’s my dad, he’s James too. And Mr. Stark gave me a new broom, like when I was a baby.”Harry continues to tell his deceased parents all about his new life, with his new family. The portraits smile on, seemingly thrilled with Harry’s new family, though James wonders if they harbor the same jealousy he had at seeing them. Surely they’d wish to live, wish that Harry would know only them, rather than James or anyone else in the mansion. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Do you have more money than my first James dad did?" Harry asks Tony out of nowhere, still poring over the album."You bet," Tony says, without a hint of modesty. He's sure there are some rich wizards and witches out there, but highly doubts their wealth competes with his, even with the absurd currency system they apparently use over in Britain. Seriously, 29 Knuts in a Sickle, and 17 Sickles in a Galleon? Why make coins divisible by prime numbers? And why skip several along the way?"I'll let you in on a secret, Harry. I've got more money than, well, pretty much everyone."James and Steve share a look. Right, living through the Great Depression, they probably hadn't thought they'd ever associate with someone as rich as Tony, or even imagine anyone could have his level of wealth. Neither of them say anything, and they don't seem to judge him at all. Then again, Tony's not sure how much James actually remembers about the Depression.Harry, completely oblivious to that silent exchange, turns the page of his photo album. Tony's going to have to pick Loki's brain about the magically moving pictures, since they aren't digital in any way and it shouldn't be possible. Tony's had to accept a lot of impossible things are, in fact, possible, but his brain still needs to work out how.As if summoned, Loki appears and puffs out his chest with a pompousness that only seems partially faked. "You may be wealthy for Midgard, but our wealth on Asgard is far greater.""Yeah, yeah, we were your safety planet," Tony rolls his eyes. "You applied to Asgard and got rejected. You know, MIT pretty much begged me to come there, and I joined early."James stares at Tony, which Tony realizes he'd grown unaccustomed to over the past week. Sure, Tony's used to all sorts of stares- admiring, shock, bafflement when he runs mental circles around people- but the way James stares is its one caliber. He's somehow combined a thousand-yard stare with the impression he's staring into someone's soul.Tony doesn't know if James views Loki as a ticking bomb (James certainly views himself as one) but Steve seems exasperated by Loki and Tony's constant competition.Okay, so Tony and Loki might already have a reputation around the mansion for getting on like a house on fire and having spirited discussions about magic and science. But hey, what can Tony say? He's always been one to build reputations quickly."You think that's too much?" Steve sighs from where he stands with Thor. "You should've been here all week,""It appears the good Soldier's sojourn with our shield brother did him well," Thor says, not shying away from Steve's heartfelt sentiment that James should have stayed. Thor and Steve have grown quite close after the past week, probably bonding over their broody brothers who are a far cry from how they used to be. Or, maybe not brother for Steve, but Steve still won't reveal if his relationship with James had ever gone past platonic, despite Tony casually mentioning his own various male conquests.Thor continues. "As did my stay on Midgard. Perhaps you should travel, brother,""Let's go to London!" Harry jumps. "The Olympics are there! Jarvis showed me videos of the Olympics in Bei-jing when I was a baby.""Way to make me feel old, kid." Tony clutches his chest, over his arc reactor.Loki scoffs. "You're an infant in our lifespan, Stark."Harry snickers at that, but starts to speak to the photos in his album again. "Did we watch the Olympics in Beijing?""You were all in hiding," Moody scowls, clearly thinking about how that hadn't worked out just over a year after."We're hiding now, and we still watch telly," Harry's picking up on some of Tony's snarky tones, and Tony couldn't be prouder."Speaking of which, how do these move?" Tony gestures at the photos in Harry's album. Loki starts to explain exactly how magical pictures move, and Harry interrupts."Can you make Dad's pictures move?""That's what the video function is for," Tony knows James had figured that feature out. "And we've got these beat, because our videos have sound,"All the photos in Harry's album are silent. While they're a tad more interactive than a recorded video, they're not nearly as interactive as a video call. So ignoring the whole moving on paper with no power source bit, technology wins this round against magic."I can operate a video camera," James confirms, but it's not as robotic as before. He seems proud of all the pictures and videos he took of Harry and doesn't intend to stop.Harry once again addresses the photos, but it strikes Tony as how a child might address an imaginary friend. He's struck with not only how young Harry was when his parents passed, but how young Lily and James Potter were. They look to be barely legal drinking age over here (not that it would apply in Britain, or that Tony ever followed that law).He almost feels lucky, compared to Harry. Out of the blue, as if to drive the point home, Harry tells his dead parents "Mr. Stark has more money than you,""They left you a decent inheritance at Gringotts," Moody grunts. "Though it's not to be used until you're at school."Harry gazes pointedly around Xavier's Institute, and Moody amends it to when Harry turns eleven."I'm not going to school until I'm eleven?" Harry asks, shocked. "But Lila and Cooper went, and I couldn't go. Why can't I go?!""Hogwarts starts at eleven," Moody grunts."I'm not going there!" Harry suddenly shouts, stomping his foot. "I hate that smelly ol' castle. And I hate its smelly old people.""Dumbledore had a lot of those photos. He cares about you, laddie." Moody nods at the photos. "Your parents, Lily and James, looked up to him.""The giant was bigger," Harry huffs."Dumbledore wants to apologize," Moody stares at Harry while his magical eye rolls around in his head."The tower's going to have preschool and daycare soon, for employee's kids." Tony switches the topic without warning. He would have mentioned it earlier, except they'd barely been in the tower before an alien invasion."Can I go?" Harry asks, clearly bored with staying home all day and all to knowledge that Xavier Institute's preschool program consists of James tutoring him with plans from Jarvis. Harry gives Tony a pleading look."That's up to James," Tony shrugs. "Speaking of which, Judge Jarvis made your adoption official. You're now officially a Barnes, Oliver. I didn't actually charge your name to Oliver or anything, you're still Harry. You can keep Potter, be a Potter-Barnes, but that sounds way too much like Pottery Barn.""I'm not Harry Pottery," Harry says slowly, as if Tony's confused or dumb. Of course he's never heard of Pottery Barn. Neither have most other members of this conversation, two being out of time and the other two being from another world."Or you could just be Harry Barnes," Tony shrugs. Apparently Harry Potter is a name that's as famous in the magical world as Tony Stark is in the non-magical world. And now that everyone knows about magic, it won't be long before everyone knows Harry's name, magic or not. He wonders if fans will decide Harry's an honorary Avenger for defeating Voldemort three years ago, even though Tony's willing to bet it was really something Lily or James did before being murdered.Harry glances between his album and James, who ruffles Harry's long hair and says "I won't be hurt if you choose to keep Potter. You're my son no matter what name you have."Tony hears Steve take a choked breath. Whether it's at the sappy scene playing out in front of him or some vain hope that James is still Bucky regardless of his name choice is anyone's guess. Steve's been coming to accept that James will never be the Bucky he knew, but maybe he's still hoping he'll use that nickname someday.James looks up to stare at Tony again. "Thank you," he says, voice too heartfelt for Tony's comfort. He almost misses the flat, expressionless tone. "I'll never be able to repay you for this. For everything.""Hey, we already established that I'm one of the richest people ever." Tony waves a hand, hoping this won't turn out like those videos where parents and children cry happy tears during an adoption. Tony wouldn't know how to handle that. Then again, Steve's return hadn't exactly been like those tear-filled soldier homecomings, so maybe he's in the clear.Tony's eyes definitely aren't stinging. Nope. He blinks.Thor claps his hands, loud as thunder, and proclaims "Let us celebrate this joyous occasion!"Tony grins. Thor certainly knows how to party, though Xavier's Institute isn't nearly as well-stocked as any of Tony's residences.Once they're all holding cups, Thor raises his in a toast, and whether that's a thing on Asgard or something he picked up here is anyone's guess."The addition of a child to a family is always cause for celebration, but choosing to take in a child is even more so," Thor gives Loki a heavy, pointed look before turning back to Harry and James. "You may not be related by blood, but that matters not. You are family- a fearsome, protective warrior, and a young mage."Thor beams at James. "I can see how proud you are to call him your son.""Called him that before," James says. They'd accepted each other as family under the guises of Batman and Robin, but it probably feels nice to do it as James and Harry. To know they're legally family, though Harry clearly has no idea what that means."It means nobody can separate you and your dad," Tony tells him."You're not going to die," Harry practically orders James, who thankfully no longer views Harry as his handler. James nods his acceptance, but he's frowning. Harry frowns too, and flings his arms around James's stomach."You're not leaving are you?"James keeps frowning with that stare of his, clearly thinking he might have to."You already found Steve!" Harry exclaims. "You can't go.""Jarvis and my legal team are working overtime," Tony says. "HYDRA's the guilty party here. Besides, it looks like brainwashing will now be an actual defense, which means everyone's going to try using it, it's like the insanity plea without admitting you're insane. But hey, it actually applies in your case, and Clint's and Loki's. The brainwashing part, not the insanity part.""That applies too," James' tone is a tad sardonic."Point is, you two aren't getting separated, and you aren't going to prison if I have anything to say about it.""Because you're a good guy," Harry gives James an extra squeeze, then tries to shimmy up his legs until James picks him up."Dumbledore isn't going to separate you," Moody says suddenly. "He put you with muggles in the first place. Bad muggles. He was misinformed when he ran into you before. Thought you were a madman who kidnapped Harry.""Says the guy who literally goes by Mad-Eye." Tony says. Moody ignores him."I did kidnap Harry." James almost sounds like the Soldier again, except his flat tone is more deadpan than dead inside.Moody stares back, and Tony's about to start placing bets on who will win the staring contest when Moody's eye flicks to Harry. "Your godfather's rotting in Azkaban for betraying your parents to Voldemort, so you don't have to worry about him taking custody.""Wow, you're real fun at parties," Tony mutters. He and Harry already had similar sob stories, and then they both have betrayal on top of it? Godfather… geez. Tony's thinking about Stane and no, he's not going down that path right now.Tony breathes sharply from his nose, ignoring the sharp looks from James, Loki, even Steve and Thor.Harry reaches for Tony, and James starts to pull him back, but Tony reaches out to grab Harry's hand. Harry's hand is tiny, seems so delicate, but it's grounding, pulling Tony out of his spiral about Stane."Can we put more pictures in my book?" Harry asks. Jarvis hooks himself up to one of the printers in the X-Institute and prints several pictures of Harry with James, Tony, various mutants and Avengers. Harry flips to the blank pages in his book and pastes in pictures.Tony wonders when Harry will learn that digital files are far superior to paper ones."Is Harry Potter-Barnes taking your name as well?" Thor asks Tony. Tony, for once, is at a loss for words.Tony had never considered himself father material. He's not Harry's father or anything, no matter what Harry said about Tony being his other, other dad. For one, Tony's not in a relationship with James, and two, well, he's more of the awesome, fun uncle who buys the kid presents but passes over the parenting responsibilities to the kid's actual dad.Tony conveniently ignores when he'd been the sensible one, saying that Harry shouldn't play with knives, that Harry should have a childhood that wasn't constantly spent training and wary of attacks. Pepper had shaken her head at the irony despite her agreement; Tony's built suit after suit to improve Iron Man against any new possible threats.So, yeah, Tony's not Harry's dad. Nope, no siree. But he did find himself missing Harry's blunt observations, his exuberance that, quite frankly, matched Tony's more than most people's.Still, it's clear the Barton farm had done some good, showing Harry what a normal Muggle family is like so he doesn't think they're all like his horrid relatives. Plus it got him and James away from the craziness and media attention that they'd somehow avoided despite living with Tony, who was one of the most famous people in the world before saving New York by sending a nuke through a space portal."What about you, Captain?" Thor asks. "Are you to be Harry's father as well?"Steve smiles tightly. Tony's sure that Bucky and Steve didn't have quite the platonic relationship that the history books portray, but James hasn't yet shown any attraction to anyone. Which makes sense, he's even more emotionally stunted than Pepper claims Tony is.Looking at the photos, Harry would have the longest name ever if he included everyone in his adoptive family. That'd be a pain to fill out on forms, but then again, Jarvis could do it for him.Harry turns to Loki, holding up a still picture of him and James. "Make it move, please."Loki takes the picture and waves his hand in a grandiose fashion. He hands it back to Harry with a slight bow, and Harry beams at it before flipping it around to show everyone. In the photo, Harry and James sit watching television, but every so often glance at the viewer or shift position. Photo Harry gets up and leaves the photo, and Harry gasps "He's gone.""You don't sit around all day," Loki points out.Harry hands every photo to Loki to animate, and Loki finally gets around to explaining it. Some of the animated photos turn out ridiculous. Tony picks his nose in one, which he definitely doesn't do in real life, and James makes cross-eyed goofy faces that Tony's definitely never seen the real James make. Loki grins mischievously and Harry laughs in delight, then flips back to the photos of his former family.He traces the edge of the ripped one. "Can you fix it?""I can't sense what he looked like," Loki says, clearly having put together the same pieces Tony had as to who was ripped out of the photo."Are you sure you want a photo of your godfather?" Steve frowns. "Did he not pass the mind control plea?"Steve seems torn- one one hand, James, Clint would seem equally guilty of treason if tried without a mind control plea; one the other hand, SHIELD agents have been found to have been HYDRA traitors all along. Not that Steve really knew any of them, but the idea clearly bothers him.Tony knows he wouldn't be able to be a jury over the godfather's case because it hits too close to home (as well as being held in magical Britain)."He never got a trial," Moody says.There's a shocked silence, and then Steve exclaims "What?!" ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "You'd give me a trial, but not one of your own Midgardian mages?" Loki asks. "Should I be honored?"The other grownups ignore him."You wizards have interrogation serum," Dad says in a voice like ice. "Snape used it on me. Trials shouldn't be a problem,"Steve starts going on about justice and fairness, and Moody just grunts. "Wasn't my decision. We all thought he was a traitorous Death Eater.""Even terrorists get trials," Steve argues, standing tall, his arms crossed."Like the HYDRA scum we've been taking down." Mr. Stark shoots Moody a look.Harry's seen some of that on the telly, when people in suits say that HYDRA guys are going to jail forever."Where's my godfather?""In Azkaban. Wizard prison.""But nobody said he's going to jail forever on the telly," Harry says, confused. Moody just said he didn't get a trial, and Harry knows what trials are.Steve sighs. "Yeah, that's the problem. He just got thrown in prison.""Are wizard prisons like ours with cinder block cells and bars? Or is it like in movies where they stick someone in a magical force field cube?"Moody looks at Mr. Stark like he's the mad one. "We have walls. But it's the dementors that really keep prisoners in line.""What are those? Like huge three headed dogs that eat people?""That's a cerberus." a bigger kid says as he walks past."Dogs don't have three heads!" Harry laughs, then turns to Steve. "Can you draw one with three heads? And Loki can make it move."Steve nods, but he's still looking at Moody."So he needs a trial," Steve says, like Moody broke the rules. "And if he's mind-controlled, then…"Steve glances at Dad."Why are you so convinced he was mind controlled?" Tony scowls at Steve. "Sometimes people just betray you because they're assholes.""Innocent until proven guilty." Steve says it like it's a rule that can't be broken, except it sounds like it was."So, assuming you guys actually give him a long-overdue trial now, are us lowly muggles going to be allowed to witness it?" Mr. Stark folds his arms. "I mean, we did blow your statute of secrecy to shit.""Shit!" Harry beams."Language!" Steve looks between Mr. Stark and Harry, frowning at Mr. Stark."Like you never swear," Dad says, and Steve turns to Dad like he might start to cry."Shit!" Harry shouts, delighted that he's getting away with saying a bad word.Steve asks more about a trial, while Mr. Stark turns to Thor and Loki. "What are your prisons like? Do you have force fields? I guess you-" he points directly at Loki "-were close to finding out up close and personal."The trial of Sirius Black is going to be the first wizard trial on the telly, because wizards don't even have telly."I was the first mage tried on your Midgardian screens," Loki says, bragging like he has to do it before anyone from Earth. He seems just as proud that he was the one to show all of Midgard the existence of magic.Instead of people in suits talking, Sirius Black's trial has a bunch of people in robes in some kind of dungeon. The Ministry of Magic, Moody had said. He's there now, on the telly, and so is the old guy, Dumbledore, with the long silver hair and beard. Moody said Dumbledore pulled some strings to get this trial to happen fast.Harry doesn't see any strings.Harry leans back against Dad's legs, sharing snacks with Jubilee and other older kids. He hopes Dumbledore doesn't come back with Moody.Harry realizes quickly that magic trials are just as boring as HYDRA trials, except for the scary black robe things that drag Sirius Black to a chair. The chair's chains wrap around his arms, and Dad breathes out loudly.Sirius Black has long, dark hair like Harry and Dad. He's skinny, and his skin is like paper. His eyes are empty like Dad's are sometimes, like he also has bad dreams almost every night. Harry doesn't think those scary black things ever bring him hot cocoa after bad dreams.They ask Sirius Black if he'll drink a serum, and didn't Steve say he got one of those? Harry glances at Dad, seeing Dad's lips press into a tight line as something is tipped down Sirius Black's throat. It doesn't make him big and strong, like Steve.Mr. Stark starts taking money, betting that Sirius Black going to say the bad guys took his brain, like Dad. He never seems mad at Dad for his brain being stolen, and he believed Mr. Barton and Loki. But Mr. Stark seems to think Sirius Black is as bad as HYDRA. Maybe even worse.The minister on the telly asks Sirius Black his name and other boring things. Harry would really rather watch sports. He doesn't even know this man, hasn't even seen him in the pictures in his photo book of his dead parents.Harry flips through his album again. All the pictures move, sometimes the people walk in and out, and he watches the photos to see if Sirius Black ever pops in any of the photos. But he doesn't.Harry looks up when he hears someone say Sirius was supposed to keep where Harry hid as a baby with his Mummy and first dad a secret, but he didn't."It wasn't me," says Sirius Black. His voice sounds even scratchier than Dad's did when he first found Harry. "It was Peter Pettigrew."Moody stands like a statue, both eyes glued to Sirius Black, saying Black killed Pettigrew with a curse, and Steve looks at Harry like he shouldn't be in the room."The little rat sold out Lily and James to Voldemort." Sirius Black snarls, as angry as when Steve talks about HYDRA taking Dad's brain.There's a lot more talking. Something about Peter Pettigrew turning into a rat, and confusing words like "unregistered animagus"."Of course they can turn into animals." Mr. Stark shakes his head. He's still frowning, but he's not quite looking at Sirius Black with hatred anymore. "So now any animal could be a wizard or witch in disguise? Good thing I don't own any pets.""Can we get a dog like Lucky?" Harry asks. "Not Nighty."He wonders if Grandpa'fessor can find Snuffles. Snuffles looked a bit like Nighty, but Moody said he was a great guard dog. Nighty wasn't."And have it turn into a wizard?" Mr. Stark asks. Thor starts telling of how Loki turned into a snake and a horse, but then Steve shushes them, eyes on the telly.The minister on telly shouts at everyone to be quiet, banging a hammer that's a lot smaller than Thor's. Harry snickers.He still doesn't really know what's happening. Mr. Stark says that the Peter guy hurt people, and made everyone think it was Sirius, so Sirius got in trouble instead.Harry knows what that's like. Dudley had broken Aunt 'Tuna's vase, and got mud on the carpet, and crumbs on the couch, but Harry was always the one who got in trouble. Even though he was never allowed to eat the biscuits that made the crumbs.Sitting beside Harry on the floor, Jubilee offers Harry another biscuit from the sleeve of them. She's told him they're called cookies here, but he doesn't know why."Cleared of all charges," the Minister says, banging his small hammer.Jubilee pumps her fists in the air, small sparks shooting out of them. "He didn't say he was mind controlled! Cough up! Whoo! I won money from Tony Stark!"Stark pulls out his phone and tells Jarvis to transfer some."Make it extra, because you thought he was guilty," Jubilee grins at Mr. Stark, who rolls his eyes. Steve shakes his head.Sirius Black sags as the chains unwrap from his arms. He looks both more tired and like a huge weight is off his shoulders. As Dumbledore and Moody head towards him, Sirius Black asks "Where's Harry? I have to see him."The video stops before anyone answers. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Despite losing his bet with Jubilee regarding Sirius Black's defense, Stark immediately starts another. "All right, my money's down that he doesn't eat or shower before he comes to check on Harry. Even though he clearly needs both."Pot calling the kettle black, there, Bucky remarks dryly. James levels Stark with a flat look. He's lived with Stark more than enough to note his inconsistent sleep, hygiene and eating schedules. Truthfully, Black's condition had looked far worse than James had ever seen Stark, had been even worse than Harry's had been the night the Asset came to Privet Drive."He's not going to show up looking like that," Jubilee counters.James doesn't have money to bet, though judging by Steve's unimpressed look, it's setting a bad example for Harry and Jubilee.The big punk's actin' like he wasn't a cheating cheater at poker during the war, Bucky's voice echoes, amused, through James' head. When James passes this information along, deadpan, Steve turns to him with a ridiculously huge grin. Loki sits forward, eager.Jubilee is clearly eager to win more money from Stark, stating that Black will take the longest, warmest shower of his life.Stark cocks his head. "You've got a point there. Think he'll want a burger?"James knows that Stark had eaten one upon his return from Afghanistan. Seeing Black's condition on the television had made Stark pause, clearly bringing back unpleasant memories.James' mind had been flooded with sensations of being strapped to a table, of fire coursing through his veins. Muttering his name, rank, serial number until Steve arrived, suddenly bigger.Azkaban looks as bad as that camp after Azzano. Bucky had remarked during the trial, before echoing the memory, repeating Barnes, James Buchanan, Sergeant, 3-2-5-5-7-0-3-8 ."I want a burger." Harry raises his hand and slaps it down like Jubilee. "I bet he wants to put his photo in my book."Stark points at Harry, nodding, before saying "I'll also put money down that he's going after that rat.""You can't bet he'll do both first!" Jubilee scowls, putting her hands over her yellow coat."Yes I can, I'm Tony Stark." Stark just shrugs her off with cocky assurance. "Either way, I win."Moody has yet to reappear in the room. James' muscles are coiled, wary, his eyes still scanning the room for any sudden appearances.Like Stark, he expects Sirius Black to appear almost immediately after the trial. His desperation to see Harry was evident before the broadcast ended. James is unsure if Moody and Dumbledore have told Black where they are, but suspects Black will return with Moody.He's free, Bucky notes. He'll probably try to claim his place as Godfather.HARRY IS OURS. The other voice states. A fact, pure and simple. Taking care of Harry has been the main mission ever since their relative safety with Stark and at Xavier's Institute.We're not letting him take Harry away, Bucky agrees. Even Steve didn't end up splitting us apart. Besides, he's younger than I was when the war started.There's a pause, before Bucky voices what James hardly dares to think. We might not be free.Moody had, like Stark, been convinced Black was a traitor, had talked of him as if he were filth. Yet the trial had clearly changed Moody and Stark's minds. Black's testimony had convinced them of his innocence.Stark has already proclaimed James' own innocence regarding the crimes HYDRA made him commit, but he doubts his own trial would go over as well as Sirius Black's. He wonders if he should be given the truth serum, if that would help him plead his case to the rest of the world.So far, the courts have been so busy prosecuting HYDRA's willing operatives, such as Pierce, who have revealed himself with a telepathic nudge from Professor X. So busy that they have yet to get around to a trial for HYDRA's brainwashed, mindwiped puppet.If he's convicted, imprisoned, that will leave Black to raise Harry.James knows, firsthand, how Harry felt back when they were discussing finding Steve. He suspects he'll know how it felt when Steve returned for real, though it's clear Harry remembers Black even less than James remembered Steve."We should do that Secret-Keeper thing," Steve says. "I could be the Secret-Keeper, and make sure HYDRA never finds you again. Then you can live in peace.""They're going to come after you," James says, not even needing Bucky's voice to know that Steve's with him til the end of the line."I'm sure that only works with magic," Loki lifts an eyebrow loftily. "You might be interested to know that I've been shielding your location."Steve turns to Loki, surprised, and Loki spreads his arms in a grandiose gesture. Thor beams at Loki with pride.Only a few hours later, the news that Peter Pettigrew has been captured is broadcast. According to the report, he'd been hiding as a pet rat belonging to a family named the Weasleys, and had been identified by his frantic attempt to escape at the news of Sirius' trial, as well as his missing toe."See? I told you pets are bad news." Stark tells Harry, clearly not wanting to deal with one in the slightest, even though he could easily pay caretakers, and a few students at the Institute already have pets of their own."Snuffles was good news!" Harry folds his arms. "Do you think he knows where Snuffles went?"Stark doesn't take his eyes off a clip of the trial replaying on the screen, where both Moody and Black are visible in a clip. "I doubt it. Wasn't he a stray?"A loud crack echoes throughout the room, and James shields Harry instinctively, drawing a knife and readying his prosthesis.It's not a gunshot. Moody appears in front of the television, almost as if jumping out of the screen, bringing Black with him.Moody is dressed in his worn, long coat, as always, but Sirius Black has taken the time to switch his threadbare prison robes for a far more elegant set and put his lank, unwashed hair in some sort of order. He could blend in with Thor and Loki's archaic sense of style.Black holds a long, thin box, about the size of Harry's motorbroom, though James readies himself for it to reveal a weapon.Black scans the room, taking in their attire and the fact that James has readied a knife rather than a wand. "Did you just apparate in front of Muggles?"Loki opens his mouth to object to being classified as a muggle."Told you, our secret was compromised." Moody growls.Stark, of course, jumps into the conversation immediately. "Yeah, the whole world knows about magic and aliens, thanks to Loki. And mutants. You cost me fifty bucks, by the way. Not that I need it, I'm a billionaire, but I thought you were going to race over here to check on Harry. He's fine, by the way.""Where is he?" Black demands, clearly wanting to be the judge of that himself. He'd seemed slightly taken aback by Tony's accent as well as his words, clearly piecing together that they'd traveled overseas and that the world he'd been locked away from has changed drastically.Harry's pressed behind James' leg, arms wrapped around it in a manner that would put him at risk if James had to fight, but he peers out at Black."Harry," Black's face softens, and he suddenly looks years younger. "I've got something for you. I know I missed three of your birthdays, but trust me, I'll make up for it when you turn five. That's coming up soon, I can't believe it. You're so big now."Black's voice croaks, either from disuse in prison or emotion. He holds out the box, and James blocks Harry, eyeing the package suspiciously.WIZARDS WOULD NOT USE STANDARD EXPLOSIVES. Warnings sound like alarms through James' mind. WEAPONIZED STICKS ARE CAPABLE OF CREATING EXPLOSIVES.That'd be a huge wand, Bucky drawls as James narrows his eyes at the package and its holder.Black frowns. "I'm not a Death Eater. The last thing I want is to hurt Harry. It's a gift.""We watched you on telly," Harry peers out from behind James. "You got in trouble but it wasn't you.""Yeah," Black sighs in relief and crouches to Harry's level. It lets James loom over him, silently promising harm if Black upsets Harry in any way."Look at you," Black smiles fondly and reaches out to ruffle Harry's hair, but Harry shrinks back into James. Black's face falls until he forces another smile."Your hair almost looks like mine," Black huffs out a laugh. "It used to be like James', sticking up all over the place. And you have Lily's eyes.""What's that?" Harry points to the box. "Is it Snuffles?"Black's laugh is almost a bark, mixed with surprise. "You remember Snuffles?""He's in my book,"Stark points at Black. "You are Snuffles,"Black nods, then turns into a black dog that strongly resembles a bear. Harry reaches out to hug the dog, but James pulls him back.Black shifts back into a human to frown at James, who matches his frown. Black offers the box again, but James holds out an arm."It's a broomstick." Black cracks the box open to show them the harmless contents. "I got you one for your first birthday, and you were a natural. I don't know if you've had the chance to ride one with muggles-""Is it magic?" Harry asks, slipping out from behind James and approaching the box. "Mr. Stark made me a moto'broom. He's my other other dad."Stark smugly gestures to himself. Smug about the motorbroom, but far less comfortable with his caretaking abilities or Harry's designation for him."So, he took you in?" Black's surprise is evident in his tone, but he doesn't look away from Harry. "I don't know if anyone told you, but I- I'm your godfather. Your mum and dad wanted me to take care of you, if anything happened to them.""They died," Harry informs Black, as if he hadn't been aware. Black's face twists with grief before he schools his features, clearly trying not to scare Harry.Harry stares guilelessly at his godfather. "Do you want to go in my book?""Your book?" Black echos, confused. "I'd love to see your book."Harry slips back to the couch, wraps his arms around the book, and returns to James' side. "It's my family book. They ripped you out, but not Snuffles.""I want nothing more than to be in your family book." Black's face breaks into a huge smile, his eyes lighting up. His grin grows wider when Harry returns the smile."I win!" Harry cheers. "I knew you'd want to be in my book! Mr. Stark, you hav'ta give me money now!"Harry holds out his hand, in the same expectant gesture Jubilee had used. Stark bursts out laughing, only laughing harder as gold coins suddenly appear in Harry's palm. Loki smirks, wiggling his fingers to emphasize the lack of a wand. Black blinks as Harry stuffs the coins in his pockets.Thor claps his hands, loud as thunder, and booms "Let us celebrate this joyous reunion!"James does not feel joyous. He puts his hand on Harry's shoulder, showing Black that Harry is his son.Black turns back to Harry, torn between amusement and hurt. "Your parents picked me to take care of you. I understand if you want to stay with your new family-""I have a new James dad." Harry says, blunt enough that even Stark looks uncomfortable."New James Dad?" Black repeats, hollowly, the same way Steve had when he realized James no longer goes by Bucky."Uh huh. He keeps me safe with his robot arm. He's my fist."Black's face shifts through several emotions at once, clearly struggling with the fact that Harry has a whole life without him, just as Steve had struggled to come to terms with James' life. He isn't surprised, as Steve had been, but it still evidently hurts."Your new dad's named James, too?" Black's voice is raspy."I'm not leaving Dad." Harry puts his foot down, literally, unwrapping one arm from his book to clutch James' leg again."Of course," Black says, too quickly. "I knew you'd be attached to… to whoever raised you instead of me. Wouldn't want to leave them.""I'm 'dopted now." Harry stands proudly. "Harry Potter Barnes."Black is silent for a second. "Right, of course. I… wasn't around to be your godfather." He shakes his head grimly."You can be my Godfather now, like Thor and Loki," Harry nods at them."That is not what the term means, nor are we your father," Thor says gently."Nor is he a god," Loki gestures to Black with an air of superiority.Black ignores them, focusing on Harry. "Yeah?""Yeah." Harry opens his book to one of the ripped photos, and yells for Steve. "Steve! Can you draw my godfather in here?"Steve reaches for the book, but Black stares at the photos of Lily and James Potter with baby Harry like a man dying of thirst would look at water. Steve backs up from the book, and asks "Why don't you show him your family album?"James settles on the couch with Harry on his lap. Black looks rather envious that he can't hold Harry, but turns to the photos as Harry flips through the album. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "I pulled your dog ears. Sorry, Snuffles." Harry turns toward Sirius, rather than speaking to the picture of his baby self sitting on Snuffles, tugging his ears. Sirius drinks the sight in, as if these memories and faces had been lost to him. Tony gets it; in Afghanistan, he hadn't exactly had the luxury of reminiscing over happier times, either."You sure did," Sirius huffs. They watch photo Snuffles stand, giving baby Harry a ride on his back, and only then does Sirius remember he'd done that. Tony knows magic is completely capable of stealing memories, and Azkaban seems pretty big on torture. Tony doesn't want to think about what those corpselike, floating figures in black robes are capable of. Just seeing Sirius at the trial had been enough proof that he'd been tortured.Sirius gazes at the picture, at last speaking, his voice still a croak. "Once I got you your first broomstick, you wouldn't ride Snuffles anymore. Bet you're probably too big, now.""Do you have money?" Harry asks. "You need money to bet. Loki can give you some. And Mr. Stark has more'n anyone.""I've got money, at Gringotts. Wizard Bank. Run by Goblins. Your parents-" Sirius cuts himself off, but Tony's certain he was going to say they left Harry a considerable sum.Tony's not even surprised by the goblins.Sirius flicks his wand to turn the album's pages; probably a simple spell that had been denied to him in prison. He tells of Harry's Uncle Remus, who can't come because it's a bad time for him.Tony's not known for tact, but he restrains from pointing out this is clearly a bad time for Sirius, too. He can't blame him; he'd been glad to see Rhodey, Pepper and Happy, despite his horrible condition after his own captivity."Grandpa Remus," Harry insists.Sirius quirks his lips, clearly unaware about Harry's wariness of uncles. Harry hasn't yet made any direct references to the Dursleys since Sirius arrival, but Tony knows Sirius will become ferocious when he learns that, for three years, Harry's life had been about as bad as his own imprisonment."He's not any older than me, even if he looks it," SiriusSirius tells of songs Lily sang, but cannot recall their words.Tony moseys outside to where Cyclops is cooking burgers with his laser eyes. Tony watches, arms folded. "You know, I could calculate the exact temperature with my suit. Not that my suit was intended to be a glorified barbecue. I once programmed a barbecue to cook to the perfect temperature, but it got persnickety with me and ended up burning the burgers out of spite. It was worse than Dum-E, not that I'd ever let him near a grill."Cyclops turns toward him, and Tony suddenly wonders if he'll be grilled alongside their dinner, but Cyclops just states that his powers are as precise as Iron Man's lasers.Logan spears two patties on his claws as he passes, and Cyclops clearly finds Logan more irritating than Tony. That must be a first.Jean levitates the other burgers onto plates, then sends the plates soaring inside like UFOs.Inside, students, staff and residents alike gather. Kurt simply teleports in. "Burgers, assemble!" Jubilee shouts. Tony holds out his hand, demanding Jubilee pay up. Tony had bet that Sirius would want burgers, but Jubilee argues she'd never bet against that prediction.Sirius glances at the students and the display of powers, clearly comparing his current whereabouts to Hogwarts. At the sight of Jean levitating burgers in, he looks like he's seen a ghost, despite Jean Grey and Lily Potter bearing little resemblance besides their fiery red hair."Thought you were finished with school, huh?" Tony says to Sirius. "I finished early. Never expected to be staying at mutant school, but here we are."Tony gestures at the room."Where's 'here?'" Sirius is clearly unused to such crowds and commotion, despite his trial having both. Tony doubts he got much time to mingle with other prisoners, but doubts he would have wanted to.Professor X rolls up, calmly explaining about the Institute.While eating, Harry eagerly tries to unhinge his own jaw around a massive burger, even asking Loki to turn him into a great big snake. Sirius wrinkles his nose in disgust at the snake comment, but he looks at the burgers ravenously. Moody sniffs his suspiciously, and Tony wonders how the magical world could deprive people of burgers.Sirius struggles to chew the meat, and seems barely able to stomach the bun. Right, burgers aren't the best food for someone who's been starved.It reminds Tony so much of Harry, when he'd first arrived; Sirius even looks about as emaciated.Sirius shifts into his dog form and noses the bun, lettuce, tomatoes and cheese aside to go straight for the hamburger patty. He seems more capable of chewing as a dog than a human, and Tony wonders just how that works; surely his diet as a dog wouldn't sustain him as a person, and vise-versa. Not that it's been sustaining him in either form. The fact he can shift his anatomy that easily is almost more bizarre than Bruce Hulking out.Still, the burger seems to be too much even for Snuffles. The dog whines pitifully, gnawing at the patty.Harry abandons his burger to run to a cupboard, returning with a can of chicken noodle soup and a box of animal crackers. "Here," he says, holding out a bear cracker to Snuffles. "They're yummy and easy. Dad lets me eat as much as I want. We have biscuits here, too."Snuffles makes a questioning huff, gazing at Harry with eyes too human for any dog. Harry digs into the box for another cracker. "Do you want a lion?"Snuffles takes the cracker from Harry's hand and chomps it down, spraying crumbs. Harry feeds him an elephant, another lion and a zebra. James pops the lid off the can of soup, and Harry holds it out for Snuffles to lap up chicken broth.James watches, clearly remembering when Harry had been as skinny, and Tony can easily picture Harry feeding that dog they'd had on the run, the one they'd lost before coming to Tony's house.Snuffles gazes at Harry's burger, and Harry holds it out to him. Snuffles noses it back, indicating Harry shouldn't forget to eat. Harry dutifully takes a bite without trying to unhinge his jaw, before holding out the soup again."Lucky never turned into a man," Harry slowly strokes his hand through Snuffles' fur. "You're way better than Nighty. You won't have to eat poop here. Do you want brandy?"Snuffles sputters, spraying chicken broth over the floor. He shifts back into human form to ask, still hacking "Poop? Brandy?""Nighty ate poop," Harry wrinkles his nose."Surprised you didn't say shit," Tony mutters.James gives Tony an unimpressed look as Harry's eyes light up with glee. "Shit!"Harry offers some lettuce to Sirius. "You have to eat green food to grow strong like Hulk. Dr. Banner's a great doctor but he's not green now. And Dr. Hank is blue."Harry points to where they're eating, and Bruce waves rather awkwardly."What's a doctor?"Harry sighs the exact way Tony does, "They help when you're sick or your body hurts.""I'm supposed to take care of you," Sirius protests as Harry offers the lettuce again."You were a dog," Harry replies, nonplussed.Sirius takes the lettuce and nibbles it a bit, and Harry smiles. By the time Harry's finished his burger, Sirius hasn't been able to stomach much, but he quickly diverts the attention. "Want to try your new broom? Just see, it'll be better than the one you've got."Tony scoffs at that, but soon they're heading outside with both brooms. Harry races off on the magic broom, but Tony's sure he'll be back for the better one, soon.Sirius seems shocked to be standing outside. He soaks in the air and sunlight, though he squints, clearly more used to the dark. Tony finds it hard to believe he'd hated this guy at first, thought he was a traitor like Stane. Hell, he'd hated Sirius more than he'd ever hated James, even though James had been made to kill his parents."Thanks for looking after him," Sirius says, and the regret that he'd been unable to rolls off him in waves."I'm just footing the bill," Tony shrugs. "Or, was, until we came here.""You are a sugar daddy." Thor says sagely, and Tony makes a strangled sound. Thor frowns, confused. "Darcy said a sugar daddy pays for-""That's just for adults," Tony interrupts quickly, and shakes his head.Harry swoops around them on his magic broomstick. "What is? Cigarettes? Beer?""This conversation," Tony replies, and shoos him away with a wave of his hand. Harry huffs and zooms off again, but quickly barrels back towards them to change to his motorbroom."You're even better at flying than I remember," Sirius tells Harry.Tony knows Sirius is faking. Putting on a front. Tony had done the same thing after he'd come back from Afghanistan; he'd acted like he was okay, and hadn't let others see the nightmares, the panicking inability to get into a shower.Tony's world had changed, even though he'd come back to the same house. He'd still had Rhodey, Pepper, Jarvis and Happy. True, Tony hadn't completely been his old self; he'd ended Stark Industries' weapons manufacturing and crafted more Iron Man suits. But he'd put on that old cocky grin and acted like he hadn't been particularly bothered.It's pretty clear that Sirius is far from okay. Sure, the guy's genuinely glad to see his godson, but he's not coming back to the home he left. He's coming back to a world where his best friends are dead and his remaining connection to his old life barely remembers him, and has a completely new life without him.Sirius and Steve should get along great, Tony thinks."Dumbledore said he wanted Harry away from the fame," Sirius says, not tearing his eyes away from Harry."I'm one of the most famous people on the planet, but clearly you were living under a rock even before…" Tony trails off. "Dumbledore didn't exactly pick me. Harry did."Sirius's eyebrows rise, and he turns to James. "You adopted him?"James nods, and Sirius nods back, somewhat stiffly. He doesn't seem ready to trust any of them, not that Tony can blame him. After Pettigrew's betrayal, he bets Sirius will have some major trust issues.Tony's surprised to realize just how much he himself trusts everyone at this mansion, even Loki, who's infamous for his lies.Tony shoves his hands in his pockets. "Really, it's Harry adopting everyone else. He just decides he's got dads and moms, a 'grandpa'fessor', even. So I'm sure you'll fit right in, even if you're a dog. Godfather, dogfather, Sirius, Snuffles, whatever. He won't care."Sirius gives a humorless bark of a laugh, probably thinking he's too damaged to truly fit in, and Tony gives his own mirthless chuckle. Even James shakes his head, lip twitching the tiniest amount.Sirius will fit right in here, and he doesn't even know the half of it. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It quickly becomes clear that Sirius cannot keep up with Harry’s active play, nor does Harry want to sit and pore over old photographs for hours, as Sirius does. He’d shown Sirius the album, but he has the attention span of a gnat, switching between flying, games, stories. Sirius is even more taken aback by televisions and video games than Steve had been. Steve had remembered screens as something only in movie theaters, requiring projectors. Sirius seems completely unfamiliar with movies as a whole, despite the magical moving portraits. “It’s a Wii wand!” Harry waves the long, white remote in Sirius’ face. Sirius takes it and gives it a wave, but doesn’t seem to understand that it controls what happens on the screen. “Look, it’s the Olympics!” The game case says Wii Sports Resort, but Harry is under the impression that it’s an accurate representation of the Olympic Games. “Olympics?” Sirius remains confused. “It’s where everyone in the world plays sports together. In London. They have basketball, and flying. Jarvis said he can make them fly brooms instead of planes. Or be Iron Man. Do you want to go?” Harry waves his Wii wand at the game selection screen. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to London,” Sirius says. “I never went there! Do you think they’ll have quidditch there?” “There’s a quidditch shop in Diagon Alley,” Sirius tells him. He hands the Wii Wand back to Harry and returns to getting lost in his memories, watching the moving photos in the album. Steve, James and Thor join Harry for a game of virtual Frisbee, with cute animated dogs chasing after the frisbees on the beach. Thor swings the remote with as much enthusiasm as he swings his hammer. Whenever it’s not Steve’s turn, he sketches. Harry soon abandons the game, announcing that he wants to play fetch with Snuffles. Sirius shifts into his huge, dark dog form and wags his tail eagerly, but three years in a cell with inadequate food have taken their toll. He’s in no shape to run after a ball over and over, and can hardly manage to run at all. Steve tries to show Harry how to throw a frisbee, but Harry struggles and grows frustrated when he can’t throw it as far as Steve can. He drops the frisbee and chooses a bright yellow tennis ball instead. James ends up throwing the ball, far, with his metal arm. Harry races after it on his broomstick, managing to catch it in the air an impressive number of times. Steve refrains from pointing out that James is essentially playing fetch with Harry. “You’re a natural seeker,” Sirius’s tone is proud but exhausted. He eats some more bread, kicked back in the grass and relaxing in the sun for the first time in years as Harry’s laughter sounds through the sprawling lawn. Steve approaches Sirius, who keeps an eye on Harry’s dizzying flight on his broomsticks. Steve’s uncomfortably reminded of that time Bucky forced him to ride the Cyclone, but unlike Steve, Harry never seems even close to throwing up. Steve holds out a couple sketches he’d been working on during the Wii game; one of Sirius as he is now, gaunt and almost skeletal, as well as a sketch of what he imagines Sirius looked like before, with more of a spark in his eye, a smile on his lips, filling out the sunken cheeks and eyes. Steve’s gotten lots of practice from drawing James’ haunted expression alongside the happier Bucky from the past. “Which do you want in the album?” Steve asks, holding out both portraits for Sirius to inspect. It seems almost ridiculous to ask, but the album is also a way for Harry and James to visualize how far they’ve come, to see what they look like now versus after their escape. James doesn’t look quite as tense now as in earlier photos, but there’s still a haunted air to him. Sirius, however, picks the picture where he looks less like a corpse, and Steve can’t blame him. “I don’t want Harry to remember me looking like this,” Sirius gives a raspy cough, likely having used his voice more today than he has in years. “He doesn’t really remember me at all.” Steve and Sirius watch Harry fly back to James with the little ball held high in triumph. He’d made a spectacular catch, and James gives a small smile before throwing it again. Harry’s off like a shot. Steve sits down near Sirius. “I was… away for a while too.” Sirius glances at him, then back at Harry. “You don’t strike me as a troublemaker. You’re prefect material. Head Boy, maybe.” The old Bucky would have laughed his head off, because he was the one finding Steve in back-alley fights for years. Steve rubs the back of his neck. “Not prison, but I was frozen, and when they thawed me…” Steve looks down at his drawings. He’s sure Sirius has a ton of survivor’s guilt, the term Professor X used to describe Steve’s feelings and actions after Bucky’s fall in the war. It would be rude to talk about how James hadn’t actually died when Sirius’s James had. “When they thawed me, James had changed. Been hurt. He barely remembers me.” Despite the time Sirius has spent staring at the photos of the past, Steve is certain Sirius hasn’t seen the photos from when Harry was about as emaciated as Sirius is now. Steve had still been in the ice then, but Harry looked even more sickly than Steve had before the serum. Sirius doesn’t even question that Steve was frozen. “How long were you apart?” “Almost seventy years.” Sirius scoffs, but then admits, “Sure felt that long, for me. Three years, and I barely recognize him.” Of course, he had to have known that Harry would grow up without him during that time. Steve wonders if that’s harder than believing him dead. Thor joins them, and tells of how Loki had denied being his brother, how he’d changed too. Loki pops up next to him, and they begin bickering about the details. Sirius is clearly no stranger to brotherly jibes and insults; Steve misses Bucky’s teasing, the camaraderie they had. Thor and Loki’s arguing goes a bit past brotherly banter, but they refrain from actually trading blows, which Loki says is a remarkable feat for Thor, who uses his fists instead of his words, like a brute. Steve jumps in; he’s been in enough alley fights to know words are often backed up with fists. Thor apologizes for the scene they have caused, the fight ending abruptly. Steve can sympathize with Thor and Sirius, finding themselves in a strange world. Trying to cope with loved ones changing without them. Sirius’ eyes light up a bit, hearing of some of Loki’s pranks, and he shares a few himself. Steve doesn’t think tricking a classmate into nearly being bitten by a werewolf is particularly funny, though Loki chuckles mischievously. Steve starts wondering if Sirius was a bully, and knows that could end this tremulous friendship. Sirius claims Snivellus was a greasy git and a bully, himself. Harry zooms around them and hovers in midair. “Loki, can you turn the other broom into a motorbike? Then Dad and me can race? Logan doesn’t like sharing.” Sirius’ face flicks through several emotions before forcing a smile. “I had a motorbike that could fly.” Harry gapes at him. “Really? Where is it? You can fly with us, too.” Sirius’s smile slips. “I gave it to Hagrid to bring you… here, I guess.” Harry’s smile falls as well. “Hagrid the big, bad giant?” Sirius blinks in disbelief. “Hagrid, bad?” “My dad beated him up even though he’s a giant!” Harry brags. “He was trying to take me away, but my Dad didn’t let him.” “Take you away? Didn’t he bring you here? You said he adopted you.” Sirius nods towards James, and now Harry’s face scrunches up in confusion. Then Harry’s off again, dashing inside the mansion and leaving Loki holding the magical broom. Harry returns, not with his photo album, but with the homemade book chronicling his and James’ adventures. Some sort of therapy exercise, which had started with Harry’s childish depictions, though Steve later illustrated it more realistically. Illustrating it had really driven home that they’d been through a lot together too, even if they haven’t quite been together a year. And of course there were those seventy years when Steve was in ice. James was in ice for a great deal of them, but the times he wasn’t in cryofreeze is what really makes Steve shudder. Harry flips open the homemade book, calling James over. Much like Thor and Loki, they tell the story together, but with far less bickering. James sometimes corrects the events when Harry gets a little creative, but they don’t argue over them. Sirius is quickly horrified at hearing the start of the story, seeing the picture Steve had drawn of Harry in a cupboard. James reveals that he’d envisioned a skinny blond kid being beat up, and Steve’s breath catches in his throat. Sirius snarls, looking ready to actually commit murder, as he’d been falsely accused of. “The Dursleys are dead,” James states. His expression is flat, hard, yet a tad sad. Steve agrees that Harry’s aunt and uncle are horrible, but their son… “Good,” Sirius growls, though Steve’s pretty sure Sirius wishes they were still alive so he could exact his own revenge on them. “Are you going to kill the black cape guys that locked you up?” Harry asks, nonchalantly. Sirius mutters that you can’t kill a dementor. He looks at James with newfound respect as Harry and James continue the story, of their escape, of James defecting. Clearly a part of Bucky had survived through everything HYDRA put him through- the part that led him to protect Harry and defect, even viewing Harry as a handler is rather similar to how Bucky followed Steve through anything. Sirius listens, then asks “You broke an Imperius to protect him?” Steve’s fairly certain that the mind wipes are far worse than an Imperius Curse. He clenches his jaw at the thought. Sirius seems somewhat amused when Harry tells of Nighty the dog, but says he wishes it could have been him then. “You want to eat poop?” Harry asks with a shocked snicker. “No. I could have escaped, helped look after you.” As Harry reaches the pages depicting the castle and kidnappers, Sirius’s eyebrows rise. “Snivellus is a professor now?” None of them really know how to answer it. “Can’t blame you for hating Hogwarts, if they separated you from your guardian seven years too early.” Sirius tells Harry. “My years at Hogwarts were some of the happiest in my life.” “I’m happy here,” Harry sticks out his chin, as stubborn as Steve. Sirius doesn’t comment, glancing at the handmade book. “What happened next?” Harry rushes through the rest of the story to play bowling, using some villain action figures as the bowling pins. Loki occasionally turns them into heroes after Harry rolls the ball, so it knocks over figures of the Avengers instead. “Brother, this is not convincing them that you have had a change of heart.” Loki snaps his fingers again, and the villain figures become the faceless, black-robed figures. Sirius scowls and sends them scattering with a flick of his wand and a flash of bright light. Another flick, and the figures become a mix of odd monsters that certainly aren’t from earth. Harry knocks them over with a clatter. Over the rest of the day, Sirius keeps a close eye on Harry, clearly wanting to protect him from any harm, despite the fact that James is already perfectly capable of preventing potential threats. Sirius spends much of the day in dog form, and Steve wonders if that made prison a tad more bearable. Harry makes sure to give Snuffles frequent snacks and drinks. Tony, at one point, eyes Snuffles watching Harry and asks “What is it with you wizards living up to your names? You’re dark and serious, Moody’s grumpy and mad-” “Dumbledore’s a dumb doorbell,” Harry chimes in. Tony barely pauses during Harry’s interruption. “Do you change your names to fit who you are? Would I actually be named Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist? Or would my name be Iron? Snuffles lets out a whuff, clearly too tired to listen to Tony’s rambling, yet he refuses to sleep and let Harry out of his sight. When Harry’s bedtime arrives that evening, Harry puts up his usual protest, arguing that everyone else stays up later, he’s not tired and he hasn’t finished coloring in Steve’s drawing of Snuffles yet. Sirius, as Snuffles, lies curled up next to Harry. James is firm about bedtime, leading Harry out of the room, and Snuffles begins to pad after them. “Are you going to be a member of our night parties?” Tony asks as Snuffles leaves the room. Snuffles huffs and continues after Harry. “You can sleep in our room,” Harry tells Snuffles as he heads upstairs. Despite looking tired, Steve doubts Sirius will sleep much. Tony says “I bet he’s going to be joining our night parties,” Steve agrees. Sirius will undoubtedly have nightmares, as so many of them do. Furthermore, the beds here are likely far softer than he’s used to; Steve’s still adjusting to them, himself. Sure enough, when he goes to his room, he sees Snuffles curled on the floor of Harry and James’ room. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Harry doesn’t like bad dreams, but he likes what comes after. Even when Harry doesn’t have nightmares, someone else does, so there’s always someone who needs a hot drink in the middle of the night.When Harry wakes up tonight, he’s not scared, and he knows right away he’s in his room at the X-Mansion school. He turns to see the mini mansion he’d made from boxes and paints.He’s safe. He doesn’t know why he’s awake. He doesn’t need to use the loo. Dad’s not screaming. He’s sleeping on the mattress on the floor, because he always seems scared he’ll hurt Harry during his own nightmares.Harry hears a whimper, but not from Dad. Or himself.He squints. Without his glasses, he sees a big, black shape on the floor. A dog? Nighty? Harry hadn’t been scared, but now he looks around for a huge shadow, waits for Hagrid the giant to burst through the door and hurt Dad. Harry’s about to call for Dad, because Dad can wake up super fast and be ready to fight. Harry suddenly remembers everything from yesterday with Sirius. Harry had let Snuffles up on the bed when Dad tucked him in. Snuffles had walked in a circle and flopped down, but couldn’t get cozy. He’d gone to the floor and curled up there.Snuffles whimpers again and Harry climbs out of bed. He puts his hand on Snuffles’ shaking ribs, and runs his fingers through black fur. Some places are missing hair, like his Grandpa’fessor.Snuffles yelps and opens his eyes. He’s still shivering.“You’re cold,” Harry pulls the blanket off the bed and lays it over Snuffles. He keeps whispering, because Dad’s sleeping. “My dad went to cold cryo jail too. It freezed him. But you’re not in jail now.”Harry hugs Snuffles through the blanket. It’s like hugging a teddy, but not babyish at all. “I know what helps. Come on,”Harry stands, and hears Dad breathe loud and rough. Dad’s shivering too, his whole body trembling except for his metal arm.Harry crawls next to Dad and lays on his chest. “Dad, it’s me, Harry. We’re in our bedroom an’ it’s warm.”Dad jerks, then goes still, but not like a statue. Harry can still feel him shaking, feel his fast breathing in his chest.“Harry,” Dad gasps. He slowly relaxes and his breathing sounds better. “You know not to touch me if I’m-““Hugging Snuffles helped. He had a freezing dream too.” Harry says. “I always want hugs after bad dreams.”“Did you have a bad dream?” Dad’s voice is shaky.“Not tonight,” Harry grabs his dad’s skin hand. It’s almost still. Harry leads the way to the kitchen. Snuffles follows like a shadow, then turns into Sirius again.Mr. Stark is already there, drinking. “I knew you’d come to join the party.” Mr. Stark turns to look at Sirius. “I’m glad you’re free and everything, but our baggage area was already overflowing. Clearly nobody here got the memo of only having one carry-on. Or whatever they do on normal planes. I have my own jet. And you have no clue what I’m talking about.”“You didn’t dream about cryo freezing.” Harry knows Mr. Stark didn’t get frozen like Dad did, but he doesn’t like caves. “I didn’t,” Mr. Stark agrees, but he doesn’t say what he had a nightmare about. He looks at Sirius. “You, uh, reminded me of some things. I didn’t really have a good time overseas, either. Wrongful imprisonment, the works. No creepy ringwraiths, though.”“Dementors,” Sirius croaks.“Sure. Was Tolkien secretly a wizard?”Harry turns to Sirius, too. “Do you want tea or cocoa? Jarvis says hot cocoa is too much sugar and I won’t sleep after. But nobody sleeps after bad dreams.” Sirius takes a bit to answer. “Chocolate helps with… where I was.”Harry’s surprised to hear that. “You get chocolate in jail? Did you get chocolate ice cream ‘cos it’s freezing?”Sirius looks like he was fed just as little as Harry was with the Dursleys, and Harry never got chocolate there. Maybe jail would have been better than his aunt and uncle’s house. He starts to say that, then stops, because it’ll make people sadder.Sirius shakes his head. “I never got chocolate in jail. Or ice cream.”“We get hot cocoa here.” Harry gets the cocoa powder and marshmallows from a cupboard. “It helps lots.”“Why are you making it?” “It’s easy” Harry likes helping adults. It makes him feel grown up, instead of being the littlest kid in a big, big school, too little to even go to class like the older kids do. Harry can measure the powder, but he needs Dad to help with pouring the big jug of milk and putting the mugs in the microwave.Sirius asks what the microwave is, then pulls out his wand and heats the hot cocoa up with magic, way faster than the microwave. He even makes the marshmallows fly into the mugs. Harry laughs, and Sirius sort of smiles. While they sip their cocoa, Harry tells happy stories because they told enough sad stories yesterday. He talks about playing in the sun so Dad and Sirius don’t think about cold cryo jails. “I’m going to fly in the sun when I’m in the Olympics. And we’re going to play Quidditch and win, and play flying basketball.”“Isn’t that just quidditch?” Dad asks, smiling a tiny bit. Harry grins.“No, Quidditch has a quaffle! An’ bludgers and-““-the golden snitch,” Sirius finishes. “Your dad- your first dad- had a snitch he’d play with. Nicked it from the quidditch pitch.”“My new dad can catch bullets,” Harry says. Sirius doesn’t know what bullets or guns are. Mr. Stark tells him how guns work, how they’re made, exactly how fast bullets go. Sirius still looks confused.“But everyone knows magic now, ‘cos of Loki.” Harry frowns. Don’t magic people know about muggles, too?Loki appears in the kitchen, all of a sudden, and makes his own mug pop out of thin air. He smiles. “It may take him a little time to catch up.”Sirius scowls.Harry finds out that Sirius barely knows about the Avengers. Harry thinks they should be called the X-Vengers because the X-Men are a part of the team too, but Mr. Stark says it sounds like a bad breakup. “Like if the team went their separate ways.”Harry hates that idea. “We’re going to be family forever until you die.”“Given the stuff we’ve survived, we’re probably invincible.” Mr. Stark says as he gulps down the rest of his drink. “Not really, but… that’s enough feelings for one night. Who wants to play Go Fish?” He glances at Sirius and Loki. “Do you even know what fish are?”“Yes,” Loki rolls his eyes, and suddenly a deck of cards appears in his hand, too. Loki snaps his hand, and cards float toward each of them. Dad holds them in his metal hand and stares at everyone to guess what cards they have.Whenever Sirius has to fish, he flicks his wand at the pile of cards like a fishing rod, pulling one up with a magic string Harry can’t see.Harry wishes he had a wand to do it, but Loki can just make them appear. “Can you teach me?”Loki says he might. Loki never has to pick up any cards. When Harry asks if he has any twos, Loki tells him to go fish.Harry likes playing games during their night parties. He’d like it even more if he was winning, like Loki.“Don’t think I don’t know you’re switching cards with magic.” Mr. Stark points a finger at Loki.“Are you accusing me of cheating?” Loki raises his eyebrows.“Yeah. You’re literally the demigod of Lies.” Loki narrows his eyes at demigod, but he doesn’t scare Mr. Stark the way he scares Mr. Barton. “Besides, I’ve been counting them, and-”“That’s easy.” Harry interrupts. He points to the cards in his own hand, only he switches from counting to saying the numbers on the cards. “One, two, seven, two, Q.”“You really do need preschool,” Mr. Stark says, then studies Loki. “Do you have any fours?”Loki grins. “Looks like you need to go fish, Anthony.” The pile in the center of the table suddenly flies towards Mr. Stark, which isn’t fair at all. He’ll probably get the two that Harry needs. Harry shouts, grabbing for the cards, and some of them turn to fly toward him. Harry snatches cards out of the air, determined to win. “You brought them towards you, not me.” Loki tells him, and Harry snatches more in triumph.By the time Steve walks in, they’re all at least smiling, their nightmares chased away by games and hot cocoa. Loki glances at Steve and says “You said you were good at poker,” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Even seeing Stark’s fame as Iron Man, James is surprised by how sought after the Avengers and X-Men are by various news sources. Weeks have passed since the Chitauri attack, and there has been a lot of new news about the existence of magic, Sirius’s trial, and more convictions of HYDRA agents. Steve, however, is not. “I was paraded around selling war bonds before I did anything. And we made all those war propaganda movies… I’m guessing you don’t remember those?” You kept looking at the camera, Bucky’s voice sounds amused and exasperated. THE ASSET LOOKED AT THE CAMERA WHEN IT ELIMINATED- James clenches his jaw as his prosthesis whirs. He knows what he did when he was sent after the Starks, and he doesn’t want to relive it now. He can see the roadside camera, see his fist aiming the gun, after it beat Howard and strangled Maria and- James blinks. Tony Stark’s face is in front of him, concerned but not nearly as scared as his father’s and mother’s had been. “You okay?” “You had a flashback,” Harry looks up at James guilelessly. “Why don’t they flash like a camera?” James clenches his teeth, and Harry grabs his phone from the table. The phone James has taken dozens of photographs and videos with. Watching this camera keeps him from thinking about the other one. Harry takes six photos of his own foot. “Back in our day, they used film, so you could only take a certain number of pictures.” Steve tells Harry. “And you needed different cameras to take videos and photos. Not that either of us ever had a camera.” “Yeah, yeah, and you had to grow up without TV.” Stark rolls his eyes. “We get it, gramps.” “We had movies,” Steve says defensively. “And radio.” James knows, intellectually, that televisions had not existed when Bucky had, but not even the Bucky voice has many memories of listening to baseball games or radio dramas. “You made a movie here,” Harry shares, as if Steve doesn’t remember back when he was first thawed and was given a starring role in the students’ amateur documentary. “Ooh, do you remember the song?” Stark grins and begins to sing, “ Who’s strong and brave here to save the American way? ” Steve groans as Stark continues to sing. “You should be proud to have a ballad written in your honor, Steven,” Thor claps a hand on Steve’s shoulder, and Steve is one of the few who doesn’t stagger under the force of Thor’s hand. Thor turns to Loki and James, his gaze heavy and sincere. “Soon the bards will write ballads about you, and your triumphant escapes from the malevolence gripping your minds.” James hopes not, but Harry starts to sing the Batman tune at the top of his lungs, changing the lyrics to “ da da da da da da da da…. Batdad!” Harry must think it’s brilliant, because he belts it continuously. James films it once with his camera, but the charm wears off after the dozenth rendition at the top of Harry’s lungs. Jarvis finds several songs created by fans on the internet, and either sends them the links or plays them on the nearest screen. Stark only encourages Jarvis, and finds amateur stories about them online. “It’s called Fanfiction,” Jubilee informs them, and another student tells them that it’s real person fiction. Some of the stories are rather like Harry’s drawings and showcase the team fighting various villains, but many are far more romantic in nature. Stark is far more amused that people write stories about himself and Steve in a relationship than Steve is. Thor’s reaction to learning about people writing him having incestuous relations with Loki is far more explosive. “It matters not that Loki and I are not brothers by blood,” Thor booms as thunder crashes outside. “He is my BROTHER- we would NEVER-“ “At least you wouldn’t have to worry about the usual complications of inbreeding-“ Stark ignores Thor’s stormy gaze, and James’ glare. James covers Harry’s hair and ears with his hands. Stark is usually somewhat adept at censoring himself for Harry’s ears, but he’s scrolling on his phone with a look of growing astonished amusement. “Looks like some people are taking the knowledge of Loki birthing a mutant horse and running with it, with all eight-“ “That was something you mortals added to the tale.” Loki snarls. “I am quite capable of shapeshifting, but-“ James leads Harry from the room, still shielding Harry’s ears. He hears Stark start placing bets on if the fictional Asgardian offspring will have extra limbs, and if anyone has written a story about an eight legged Romanoff. Jarvis blocks Stark and Thor from accessing the so-called fanfiction. Fans on the internet are far from the only parties enamored with the heroes. The Avengers and X-Men are called to various talk shows and other entertainment that James did not know existed. James is content to stay behind, unknown. Steve clearly wants to stay behind, but attends out of a sense of obligation. Logan feels no such obligation, regularly kicking back with a beer while his team interviews on various shows. Attendance hardly seems necessary for game shows. James, Sirius, Logan and Harry are able to guess the answers in front of the television. The shows are surprisingly entertaining. One has the team split and face off in a “Family Feud”, guessing the most popular responses to public surveys. Loki gets far too competitive when he and Thor are placed on opposite teams. Loki even declares himself team leader, but his teammates are having none of it, and Barton scowls from behind the other set of podiums. The mutiny begins before the game even starts. Jarvis reports that the internet is blowing up with reactions and the channel’s viewership is at an all-time high. Harry watches with apprehension. “We’re still all a family, right?” “Yes,” James says. As the Soldier, the concept of a family had been almost unfamiliar to him, besides something targets had that could be used as leverage against them. The idea that an asset might acquire a family was unfathomable. Even if the Soldier had been able to imagine a family for itself, it never would have imagined… this. James watches the chaos on the screen as Loki calms and somehow proceeds to dominate the game despite being from another realm. Loki has never been to a movie theater, yet is able to guess the most common things people do in them other than watching the movie. At Barton’s disbelief, Loki scoffs. “We have theater in Asgard, and it is not uncommon for uncultured brutes like my brother to fall asleep during performances. Thor’s snores sound like thunder.” Thor laughs, unoffended. Steve remarks that things in theaters haven’t changed all that much from the forties. Says the guy who got beat up in an alley before the cartoons started. Bucky says, long suffering. Do theaters still show newsreels and cartoons? Even Sirius, who didn’t know movie theaters existed, guesses that people kiss in the back from the couch. “Eew,” Harry scrunches his face. “We’re really missing out, not having television.” Sirius says as they watch the team arguing what powers people would most like to have. “The telly’s right there,” Harry points. “Did you forget?” Sirius laughs and ruffles Harry’s hair. Harry stands on the couch to ruffle Sirius’s hair back. The press has been clamoring for interviews with Sirius as well, but somehow no owls have arrived at the Institute. Although James is persistent about staying out of the public eye, he has to push his reservations aside to accompany Harry and Jubilee on a shopping excursion to the mall with the money they’d won betting on the trial. Stark thrusts a credit card at James, telling him to go wild. James has never used one before but, unlike Sirius, knows what it is. Neither James nor Sirius have ever been to a shopping mall. “They sell everything,” Jubilee explains as James drives them over with a forged Driver’s License, courtesy of Stark. “Clothes, toys, games, food-“ “We’re going to Tesco!” Harry cheers. “Dad, remember when we went there?” “I could have teleported us there,” says Loki, who is only coming along to shield them from unwanted attention. Thor admits that he would have been unable to fly them all in one trip, and Loki sounds extremely smug. The shopping mall is not like Tesco. The mall is a collection of smaller shops and kiosks rather than one large store that sells everything. And we thought Tesco had too many choices, Bucky says, taken aback. Now we have to decide which store to visit. THERE IS NO NEED FOR SUPPLIES. James does not need to acquire anything here. His eyes dart around, watching passerbys warily. Sirius seems slightly unsettled whenever anyone in a black robe passes. “Wow, this place has changed,” Jubilee remarks. A store selling potions ingredients contains a display of blenders and self-cooking cauldrons. “We already had those without magic,” Jubilee rolls her eyes. “They’re called pressure cookers.” Signs on the stores announce they accept both magical and mundane currency, as well as credit cards, which seem magical to the Bucky voice. Sirius seems equally baffled by any form of currency in the United States. Not all of the shoppers seem happy about these adjustments. Some look as suspicious as James. As they walk through the mall, Sirius reminisces about a place called Diagon Alley, which makes Jubilee snort. Sirius tells them about Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. “And there’s a town near Hogwarts called Hogsmeade. They have the best sweet shop, Honeydukes.” “We were there,” James says. At the time, the Asset had not been aware of candy and thought the sweets were interrogation tools. Jubilee drags them to one of several clothing stores. “You need new clothes, you’ve grown so much.” Jubilee says, and Harry stands as talk as he can with pride. Then he glowers when Jubilee adds “Besides, little kid clothes are so cute.” The store sells current fashions alongside robes. Jubilee gestures to her yellow coat and says she could “totally pull off a robe.” “I don’t want a robe.” Harry folds his arms. “I don’t want to buy clothes. I want to buy quidditch balls.” James is glad that Harry is secure, knowing his necessities are provided for. At their Tesco visit, he’d treated new clothes as an unimaginable gift. They were a gift back in my day, Bucky grouses. Are we starting to spoil him? “We can just ask Jarvis to get clothes,” Harry huffs as Jubilee pulls him towards the brightly colored children’s section. “Jarvis, can you, please?” Jarvis speaks quietly from the phone in James’ pocket. “ It would be my pleasure, Master Harry. Currently, Avengers clothing is quite popular.” James eyes a nearby display of Avengers and X-Men sweatshirts. There are even photos of the real heroes modeling the clothing designed after their costumes. Well, some of them. Steve had reluctantly agreed to model Captain America clothing, but Bruce hadn’t been comfortable modeling anything representing the Hulk. Even Loki has merchandise, which the real Loki is very smug about. “Why isn’t there one of you, Dad?” Harry frowns at the display. Loki flicks his fingers and the large picture of Thor smiling broadly in a fake Asgardian armor sweatshirt shifts so Thor is making a particularly dumb expression. The mannequins adopt awkward, uncomfortable poses. Jubilee reluctantly concedes that Jarvis can shop for Harry but begins to browse for herself. Harry grows impatient quickly, tugging on Jubilee’s coat as she inspects another rack of shirts. “If you rip it, you’re buying me a new one,” she tells him. Harry looks guilty before Jubilee slaps her forehead. “We have magic now. One of you could fix it in a blink. But still, don’t rip it.” Sirius leans against a wall, arms crossed and foot tapping. “You don’t even have to wait for a tailor like at Madam Malkin’s” Loki makes the mannequins dance horribly, and they leave before they can be kicked out. Harry runs to look for the sports store, and James holds his hand firmly so he won’t get lost. The crowds make James wary, but the crowd seems to be giving their group a wide berth. The sports store sells quidditch supplies alongside supplies for baseball, soccer, tennis and more. Some people in robes seem just as fascinated by tennis rackets as non-magical people are by broomsticks. One group of people wearing robes laugh at the non-magical supplies. “No-maj sports are so lame. The balls can’t even fly.” Sirius says nothing, but appears to agree. “You’re lame,” Harry tells the robed group, and James is suddenly overwhelmed with images of Steve, before the serum, standing up to bullies. “Basketball is great! So’s hockey. And muggles have the Olympics! My best friends are muggles! Me and Lila and Cooper like bikes and brooms.” The group stares at Harry’s short, ranting form, and James wonders if they’ll realize that Harry Potter is here with Thor and Loki, but Loki’s disguises are clearly quite effective. The group rolls their eyes at Harry and walks away. “If I can come to accept even magicless mortals, surely your fellow humans could do the same.” Loki sneers after them. Jubilee blinks at him. “...Thanks, I guess?” Despite his eagerness to get a set of quidditch balls, Harry picks out a tennis racket, and is especially intrigued by roller blades. James helps him try on a pair. Unlike his natural grace on a broomstick, Harry clings to James’ metal arm desperately as his feet roll under him. Once his feet are safely back in shoes, Harry inspects a pair of boxing gloves, talking about playing Wii for real, until he remembers the Hulk fists his friend at the park had. This leads them to a toy store, where superhero toys dominate the shelves. There are costumes for kids to dress up as their favorite hero or heroine. One shelf holds a small army of Captain Ameribears and Bucky Bears made to look like the old fashioned, comic book sidekick version of Bucky. Now, there are bears for all the heroes and heroines. Harry watches a grown woman hug a Hulk bear, which is almost sold out. “See, they’re not just for babies,” Jubilee whispers. Harry still doesn’t seem very impressed with the old-fashioned Bucky Bears, but James picks out a pair for Steve. The most popular toys in the store are clearly a line of figurines that incorporate magic. Children and adults gasp as figures of Iron Man, Thor and Storm fly above their heads, shooting harmless repulsors and lightning. Even Thor is delighted. A toy Wolverine can really pop its claws, and the Bruce figure actually transforms into the Hulk. Several Loki figures appear and disappear throughout the room, apparently encouraging children to play hide-and-seek. Harry seems remarkably unimpressed, and clearly has no urge to upgrade his beloved Batman-turned-Wolverine toy with a newer, magical model. Harry shows much more enthusiasm over the Hulk fists. He hugs the large green fists before putting his hands in them and punching the air. “Like the fist of Harry!” “I thought that was me,” James’ lips curl wryly. “You have to wear gloves in boxing, Dad,” Harry’s tone is exasperated as he swings his Hulk hands, and James levels him with a look. James puts on a pair of Hulk fists, and Harry pretends to box him. Steve’s turnin’ him into a little punk, Bucky laughs in James’ mind. Even though Bucky’s voice had worried about spoiling Harry, he suggests picking up several toys that he and Steve hadn’t had growing up. Xavier’s Institute already has an impressive collection of games, but James picks several intended for young children. Go Fish has been a success, perhaps a little too much. Yesterday, Loki had taken to actually summoning fish, which stank up the kitchen until Sirius transformed them into fish-shaped crackers. Harry thrusts Candy Land at Sirius and shakes the box. “Look, it’s like Honeydukes. And you can make real candy.” Sirius picks a wizard’s chess set, undoubtedly having seen the elegant chess set in Professor X’s office during his own recent therapy sessions. He’s eager to show Harry magical games like Exploding Snap and Gobstones, and James has a flash of a memory of boys playing marbles in the dirt, from back in Bucky’s day. “Exploding Snap is harmless,” he assures James as James inspects the packs of cards like he would a live grenade. James pays with the credit card from Stark, and is about to pick up their purchases when Sirius makes them levitate. As he walks wearing his new Hulk fists, Harry stares at the bags and asks “Can you teach me how to do that?” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Tony’s glad to see James hadn’t been frugal with the credit card Tony gave him. Not that James came anywhere near maxing out the limit; he could have bought a car without having to worry that. Not that he’d need to anyway; Tony’s footing the bill, and he never had to worry about pesky things like credit limits.Tony’s slightly less pleased to see that all the purchases are for Harry. Doesn’t James get anything for himself? Apparently not, but he got Captain America and Bucky Bears for Steve.Sirius returns seeming just as taken aback as ordinary people would be visiting the magical world, though they’re meshing together pretty well at the mall they just visited. Harry’s brandishing Hulk fists and clamoring to play new games when Jarvis says that there’s a situation that requires superhero intervention, right before a call from Coulson.Coulson informs them that there are hostiles at a mall, the very one Harry and Jubilee had just visited. Not that Coulson needs to know that. “Are we stopping a robbery?” Tony asks. “Are we looking for people in ski masks?”“It’s not a robbery, Mr. Stark,” Coulson tells him, unruffled. “It’s not a job for cops.”Jarvis projects holographic footage from Tony’s phone of a guy in a red costume hovering in the middle of the mall. His purple cape billows almost as impressively as Thor’s. Metal objects swirl around him in a sort of lethal tornado, and the arriving police officers’ guns are ripped from their hands to join the maelstrom. Their handcuffs, walkie talkies, and badges are torn away as well. “I want to do that!” Harry points at the video as he clambers onto the couch. He bounces up and down, clearly trying to imitate the levitation.Another camera shows the police cars lifted by an invisible force and thrown down to barricade the exit. Harry stops jumping, and his face falls with him. “Oh, he’s bad. Do we have to hit him really hard?”Harry swings his Hulk fists wildly, still standing on the couch.“Remember, you’re going to be a quidditch basketball star.” Tony reminds him. “Looks like you finally caught a break, not getting caught up in this,” Honestly, he’s more shocked they got home before this happened than he is that it’s happening at all. A few shoppers brandish wands, but struggle to get a clear shot at the man. As soon as one object is vanished to open up a shot, another object takes its place. Coat hangers swoop like birds with curved beaks, shirts billowing out like plumage.The magical people start transforming metal objects into wood or plastic to prevent the man from using them, but a few are hit by high-speed, targeted debris.As several people flee in terror, the floating man gives an impassioned speech about mutants’ superiority to ordinary humans. Apparently he thinks mutants trump magic too.After Loki and HYDRA have been all over the news, Tony’s not surprised that others would try their hand at world domination. “I don’t think he likes basketball,” Harry says out of nowhere. “Or hockey.”“Erik,” Professor X sounds like he’s talking more about an old friend than a villain. “Is Erik going to be part of our family when he’s good?” Harry asks innocently.Tony glances at Thor, Loki and James. “Just how many times are we going to go through this brainwashed buddy schtick? It’s getting old. We just freed your mind a few weeks ago.”He expects some snippy reply from Loki, something along the lines of “ yes, thank you for the reminder, Stark, I’d forgotten,” but Loki’s nowhere to be seen.Professor X seems unsurprised, and merely continues what he was saying. “Erik and I have vastly differing views on human-mutant relations.”“So he’s really a villain.” Steve’s all business, already grabbing his shield, even though it’ll be useless against a guy who can manipulate metal. “Magneto,” Jubilee rolls her eyes. “Such a lame-o name.”Tony rolls his eyes back at her. That’s almost as juvenile as Harry’s insults.“He sounds like a mutant Death Eater.” Sirius growls at the video projected from Tony’s phone, still clearly unused to watching it. He grips his wand.Professor X turns his chair and leaves, likely to go to the basement with that computer locked behind facial scanners even Tony can’t hack.Tony’s itching to suit up and show Magneto just what an ordinary human can do. Well, Tony’s not really ordinary, he’s a genius billionaire superhero, but still. He’s accomplished everything without mutant or magical powers.Though, Tony has to admit, Iron Man’s probably worse than useless against a guy who can control metal. Magneto’s powers are bending the metal railings like cheap wire, and Tony’s willing to bet that Magneto would either crush his suit around him and puncture vital organs, or rip the arc reactor out of his chest to swirl around with everything else. Tony grimaces. Or Magneto would puppet the suit to make Tony punch his own teammates.Looks like he’s sitting this one out. And he’s really glad James got out of there, or the prosthesis would be toast.James looks rather relieved, too, and guilty for looking relieved. Probably just shopping in the crowd, constantly scanning for threats had been stressful enough without all this. Steve realizes his shield is useless, puts it aside, and starts assembling the best team. Tony’s benched, along with Logan, whose entire skeleton is Adamantium. Colossus is freaking made of metal.Most of Clint’s arrows have metal in them, and he’s still farming with his secret family in their secret farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.Cap’s preparing to go in without his iconic shield. Storm’s a great candidate for this, and they should get Bruce over there to have Hulk smash flying debris. Or maybe Beast.Thor seems confident that Mjolnir will not obey Erik’s magnetic powers. But as the team is suiting up and ready to head out, Tony hears a familiar voice call out “Your savior is here! The Avengers and X-Men are a bit too slow, aren’t they?”Loki strides into the camera’s view. Gone is the ridiculous, curved golden helmet he’d worn during the invasion.“I’ve fought the X-Men before,” Magneto sounds extremely bored, yet keeps his commanding pose.Loki matches Magneto’s imperious posture. “If I had taken over, I at least would have kept you from fighting each other,” Tony can practically hear Fury’s blood vessels bursting from here, and mutters “Well, this is going to be a PR nightmare,” Loki’s face breaks into a wide, cheshire cat grin. He creates several illusions of himself to keep Magneto guessing and teleports out of the way of any attacks.At first, Loki simply trolls Magneto, switching the sizes of objects so he has to adjust his control. Scowling at all the Lokis, Magneto gestures in a grandiose fashion. Several cars from outside smash through the mall’s glass doors, each hurtling towards one of the Lokis.“When you wanted to see flying cars,” Steve, now in his Captain America suit, leans close to James, “I don’t think this is what you meant.”“Well, they’re doing better than my dad’s prototype did,” Tony mutters. James looks extraordinarily guilty, as he does any time Howard or Maria are mentioned. They watch Loki shrink the cars to matchbox car size, but they continue to hurtle like bullets, curving in the air to shoot towards Lokis rather than innocent civilians. Loki creates some sort of shield that stops their momentum, and Tony frowns at all the laws of physics being broken. Harry, however, is delighted. “Loki made them into toys! He can make my toys as big as all you guys!”“But you already have the real versions of us,” Tony points out. “No action figure can compare to the real Iron Man. Not even those new magical versions they’re making that really fly.”“We saw those.” Harry tells him, rather nonchalantly for a boy who had seen flying figurines. Then again, that’s nothing next to what they’re seeing now, what the world had seen in Manhattan.Tony starts calculating how many cars are going to be replaced, because even he doesn’t make a habit of purchasing a whole parking garage’s worth of cars. Then he remembers Loki had fixed most of Manhattan, and figures they can stick Loki with cleanup duty this time, too.Loki transforms the metal tornado of appliances, infrastructure, cauldrons, hockey pucks and even a Golden Snitch into a swarm of bees, Magneto’s purple helmet becomes the beehive.Magneto reaches to tug the hive off of his head, but his words are not about the bees.“Get out of my head, Charles.”Huh. So that helmet somehow prevents Professor X from reading Magneto’s mind. Tony makes a note to ask if the Professor can read his mind when he’s in the Iron Man suit. Does his suit make him immune to magical mind-reading as well? Would Loki have even been able to take over his mind?Magneto tosses the hive to the floor, and the bees buzz around it. “They are not our equals, Charles. We are gods among insects,” Magneto casts an even more withering glare at the humans than he did the bees.“I beg your pardon, but I believe I’m the god here.” Magneto falls to the ground, unconscious, atop a swarm of bees.Loki turns to the crowd with his arms stretched wide, then bows to the huddled civilians. “Be sure to purchase my merchandise.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Harry jumps at Loki as soon as he reappears back with them for real. Loki looks very proud of himself and gives Harry one of the Loki toys that can turn into many Lokis and disappear.The toy Loki tells Harry to find him and vanishes from his hand.Harry keeps looking at the real Loki. “Teach me how! Pleeeease?! That was so cool! You’re so cool!”“You hear that, Thor?” Loki grins a bit too wide. “He likes me more.”“You’re probably going to have an army of fangirls,” Mr. Stark wags a finger. “Now, don’t be getting any ideas. At least not any I wouldn’t have.”Thor laughs and pulls Loki into a big hug. “I’m proud of you, brother.”Loki’s smile twists a bit. “Proud of me for using tricks?!”Thor stops hugging Loki but keeps his hand on Loki’s shoulder.“Aye, brother. I was too foolish to see it before. Midgardians fight in many ways, and each is mighty. I believe it was the Professor who rendered Magneto unconscious?”“Unfortunately, it was a necessity.” Harry’s Grandpa’fessor rolls back into the room instead of popping in like Loki had.“Where is Magneto?” Harry looks around. He only saw Magneto on the hologram telly from Mr. Stark’s phone. Is he not really real? He’s not here for real.Grandpa’fessor says something about a cell under the pentagon. “That’s a shape with five sides.” Harry holds up five fingers. He learned that during his lessons with Dad and Jarvis, when the bigger kids are in theirs. “I want another grandpa!”“Well, Magneto’s a bad choice,” Mr. Stark shakes his head. “He’d mess up your dad’s arm.”“And try to kill us,” Jubilee huffs.Harry knows that, except hadn’t they said Loki was bad too?“Steve can be your grandpa.” Mr. Stark laughs. “He’s old enough,”Harry glances between them and tells Mr. Stark “You look older. Are you really a grandpa? ‘Cos you say you’re not my other other dad.”Mr. Stark acts cross at that, telling Harry he won’t buy him anything, but Harry knows that’s not true. And even if he was really angry, Mr. Stark would never ever hurt him.Steve gives Mr. Stark a tired look before going to shake Loki’s hand and tell him he did a good job. “You even cleaned up Magneto’s mess.” Loki tilts his head at Thor. “I can’t recall you ever cleaning up after a battle. Or ever.”“I helped dry dishes this morning,” Thor folds his arms. “And unlike you, I cannot simply magic them dry.”“Thor helped clean up the city after the big battle,” Harry points out. Steve turns to Loki again. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were offered a spot on the team,”Loki lifts an eyebrow. “After everything I’ve done?”“We’ve all done something, bub.” Logan growls.Harry still hasn’t gotten an answer because the grownups keep interrupting. He tugs on Loki’s sleeve. “Will you teach me how to do that stuff you did?”“I can do all that,” Sirius grumbles. “And I can turn into a dog.”Sirius shifts into Snuffles, but Harry’s too busy begging Loki to teach him.Loki looks down before finally crouching down so he’s not so high up. “Very well. During lessons tomorrow.”Harry almost wishes today was a school day, until Dad reminds him of all the new games they got from the mall before Magneto attacked.Mr. Stark picks one called Mousetrap which has a big machine with ramps and kicking boots and a guy diving into a bathtub that’s on a pole.“It’s a Rube Goldberg machine,” Mr. Stark explains as he helps Harry set it up. “It uses chain reactions to do something simple, like lowering the cage, in a lot more steps.”Harry laughs. He could just push the cage down, but watching this is fun.Loki’s mouse scurries away from the cage as it falls. Harry stares at his own mouse until his eyes hurt, but his mouse doesn’t move at all.Later in the game, Loki turns the mice into a mini Magneto that controls the game’s small metal ball. Loki summons the toy of himself to trap Mini Magneto.Mr. Stark shows a video of a Rube Goldberg machine that fills an entire room. Harry wants to make one like that. He gathers supplies from the craft box and toys, but it’s a lot harder to make one in the house than it is to make the one in the game. Even with Mr. Stark’s help it takes too long and is way more tricky than building with LEGOs.Sirius tries teaching Harry how to play Exploding Snap, but that’s even trickier to build. Cards don’t stack very well, and even when Sirius helps, they keep blowing up. Ms. Grey is the best at building the card towers. “Did I play this with my Mummy?” Harry asks.“You were too little, but you liked watching,” Sirius smiles at Harry. “Once you put one of the cards in your mouth. Lily just about blew her own top off.”Some of the bigger kids look at Harry’s other new games. “Lucky Ducks?” Rogue smiles, holding a box. “This one was my favorite when I was your age.”Rogue’s favorite game has ducks that swim around in a circle pond and dive under the water. Rogue watches a bit sadly. “This must be the magic version. The one I had just had a spinning blue track and plastic ducks.”Rogue says they have to pick up the ducks because there are shapes on their bottoms and they have to match the shapes.Even though it’s her favorite game, Rogue won’t touch the ducks and keeps her hands in her pockets. “I don’t want to hurt them,”“But you have gloves,” Harry says. Rogue always wears gloves and long sleeves because people get hurt if she touches them. Harry grabs for a duck, but it quacks and swims away from his hand. Every duck he tries to pick up either swims, dives or flies away. Harry snatches one duck out of the air, just like a Seeker catching the Golden Snitch, and Sirius applauds.“They made this game harder for no reason.” Rogue says, watching the ducks go everywhere.Sirius pulls out his wand and mutters Immobulus. The ducks freeze where they are, like statues. Sirius smiles at Harry, but Harry scowls.He’d frozen them, just like Dad had been frozen at Hogwarts. Harry chants “Move, move, move, move,” as he pokes the ducks. He’d used his own magic to free Dad in Hogwarts’ Hospital.Sirius waves his wand again, and the ducks start moving. Harry doesn’t know if it was Sirius or himself who freed the ducks. He yells at Sirius and then stomps upstairs. Dad or Jarvis haven’t even put him in time-out, but he doesn’t want to be near Sirius anyway.Dad finds Harry and says that Sirius didn’t mean any harm by freezing the ducks.“But he could freeze you.”“He could,” Dad said. “And I could shoot him.”Dad closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Steve or I could break his jaw with one punch. But we don’t, because we’re family. Part of that is not hurting someone, even though you could.”Harry thinks about that. Families hurt each other, too. “Thor and Loki fight lots. And Cooper pushed Lila.”“Yes, and being a family means saying you’re sorry.”“Like how you said sorry to Mr. Stark?” Harry wishes he hadn’t asked that, because Dad looks like he did something really bad and needs the longest time-out ever. Like jail. Harry doesn’t want Dad to ever go to jail. “I’m going to get Loki to teach me how to unfreeze stuff so you’re never, ever stuck again. Okay, Dad?”Dad smiles and pulls Harry in for a hug. “My hero,”“You said you don’t want me to be a hero,” Harry points out. “I said you can be a hero in other ways,” Dad corrects. “Doctors are heroes. Most are. I had a lot of bad doctors.”Dad shivers slightly, like he’s freezing, and Harry snuggles extra close.Snuffles slinks into the room with a whine, his head hung low and his tail between his legs.Harry’s about to tell him off and send Snuffles to time out when Dad grits out “It’s not him. Flashback.”“Don’t eat the ducks.” Harry tells Snuffles sternly.Snuffles turns into Sirius, who says he’s sorry for freezing them.“Loki’s going to teach me to unfreeze them,” Harry grins.Sirius tells Harry not to get his hopes up about magic lessons, because Loki’s magic seems different from the magic wizards and witches learn at Hogwarts.“I want to learn Loki’s magic.” Harry insists.Sirius says Harry is like a muggleborn first-year at Hogwarts, which is silly. “My first year was with my Mummy and first James dad. Not Hogwarts!” Sirius had spent even more time looking at Harry’s photo book than Harry had, and none of Harry’s baby pictures are at Hogwarts.Sirius nods slowly. “Of course. You wanted me to make real sweets in Candy Land, didn’t you?”Magic people have all sorts of sweets that even Dudley never got, like Ice Mice. Harry thinks they should use those in their next game of Mousetrap. And there are chocolate frogs, and beans that taste like anything and cakes that look like cauldrons.“He’s not going to sleep tonight,” Dad frowns at Sirius. “I don’t sleep a lot of nights,” Harry shrugs. That’s why they have hot cocoa and game time. They’ll probably get to play these games tonight too.Dad’s right. Harry can hardly sleep that night, but it’s not even because of nightmares. He can’t stop wondering what lessons with Loki will be like. Probably lots of fun, like Loki. Pretty soon, Harry will be able to unfreeze people and make pillow forts bigger on the inside too. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Mornings at Xavier’s Institute are typically filled with half-awake teenagers groggily eating breakfast, while others, like Jubilee, rush to get ready after oversleeping. “At least we don’t have to catch a bus,” Jubilee says as she shovels some artificial, sugary cereal into her mouth. Sirius cocks his head at this statement, brow furrowing. In my day, we walked, Bucky’s voice is tired in James’ mind. James, of course, has been up since O-Dark-Thirty with Harry, who had spent a good portion of the night speculating about how Loki will teach him and what Loki will teach him. He’d asked countless times whether Loki could start teaching him right away, rather than waiting until the morning. Harry is still eagerly anticipating his magic lesson even now. Rogue and Logan eat silently side-by-side, glaring at anyone they deem too happy for the hour; namely Steve and Thor. Neither direct their anger at Harry or his excitement. James eats in similar silence. He methodically chews eggs while Harry eyes Jubilee’s cereal, his green eyes filled with jealousy. Now that Harry is secure in knowing he’ll receive food, he’s far pickier. What to eat for breakfast is a frequent disagreement in the mornings. “I’m going to learn how to turn eggs into Cocoa Puffs!” Harry announces pointedly to James without actually looking at him, since James hadn’t let him have a bowl of processed sugar. Harry waves his hands wildly over his own eggs, obviously silently commanding them to turn into Cocoa Puffs. The eggs remain unchanged, and James tells Harry. “Eat. They’re getting cold,” “We have charms for that,” Sirius pulls out his wand, casting a look at Loki that says, Leave this to me. “Turn it into Cocoa Puffs,” Harry grins eagerly at the sight of Sirius’ wand. James gives Sirius a warning look; Sirius had given Harry far too much candy when they played Candy Land. Sirius simply warms the eggs, and Harry says again “ I’m going to make them Cocoa Puffs.” “Why?” Sirius asks. “They look like dog kibble.” “I’ll share with Snuffles,” Harry smiles, then gestures wildly a few more times. His eggs turn brown, but otherwise remain unchanged. Loki smirks as Harry whines “Show me how to do it!” “There’s nothing natural in those,” Steve says with a shake of his head. “Food’s gotten way more processed in the future.” The mission voice agrees with James that Cocoa Puffs are entirely unsuitable. HARRY REQUIRES PROPER NOURISHMENT, Thor has claimed a whole box of pop-tarts and an entire box of Trix cereal for himself. “Midgardian food is strange, but greatly enjoyable. And now I am the god of tricks.” Loki shoots Thor a withering look. “I will turn you into that oafish Trix rabbit if you do not cease that pathetic joke.” “Silly rabbit,” Harry corrects, having seen the commercial on television. He gives Thor his own judgmental look. “Trix are for kids.” “How many of these cereals are there?” Sirius mutters. “Back home, we have Cheeri Owls and Pixie Puffs.” “Those have berries,” Harry points petulantly to Thor’s Pop-Tarts. The picture of a berry on the box is likely the closest thing to a real berry in them. “Aye, blueberries and strawberries.” Thor nods. “I understand the blue, but why do you Midgardians call them strawberries? They are not made of straw.” Loki gives Thor another disdainful look as he spreads butter on toast he’d heated magically. Cyclops, too, had toasted his bread with his powers. Thor offers Harry a Pop-Tart, but both James and Loki shake their heads at him. “You need energy to properly perform magic,” Loki tells Harry. Harry nods seriously. “Pop-Tarts have energy.” “You don’t need any more sugar. You’re hyper enough as it is,” Stark observes, rather hypocritically, as he tosses back his fourth cup of coffee since 0430. “There, see? I’m making the kid eat healthy. Take that, Pepper.” Harry eyes Stark as if he’s stupid. “Pepper’s not here,” Harry’s frustration with food ends at the same time breakfast does. As students head through the corridors to classes, Loki stands regally. “Are you ready?” Sirius stands with his wand, clearly planning on teaching Harry as well. “Remember, this might not work. Most children only cast magic accidentally when they’re feeling especially angry or scared.” “It will work,” Harry sounds entirely too confident. “My godfathers are teaching me!” Stark sticks around, seeming just as eager as Harry, though he has already questioned Loki and Sirius extensively about the workings of their forms of magic. Harry runs to grab his Wii wand, “just in case.” This should be fun, Bucky’s laugh echoes in James’ head. Trying to teach Harry letters when Harry’s thinking about sports is no easy task. Harry bounces around impatiently. Loki pulls a large tome out of thin air and holds it out to Harry. Harry eyes the giant book. “Are we going to make it come ‘live and eat stuff?” “Not now,” Loki says. “To be able to cast magic, you must understand the theoretical principles governing it.” Harry stares at him blankly, and Loki huffs. “You must understand how magic works,” “I know how it works!” Harry flings his hand up in the air. He must have seen older students raise their hands. “You want something to happen, so it happens.” Loki sighs deeply. Harry’s smile falters. “Only it doesn’t work for me because I’m too little,” “That is not how magic functions,” Loki says. “Magic is not your willing servant ready to solve your slightest problem. At least, not until you learn to control it.” Harry starts to look apprehensive. “Like taking over a brain?” “No,” Loki tells him flatly. “You did make it sound like that,” Stark mutters. Loki thrusts the book out. “Magic has rules. Read this.” Harry takes the book, almost collapses under the weight, and drops it on the floor with a thud. The floor shakes. Harry plops down and flips through the old, musty pages, frowning in confusion. James does not recognize the words, written by hand in ink. Harry squints at the words and wiggles his glasses around. “I can’t read it,” With a sigh, Loki waves a hand, and the words morph into English. Harry stares at them without comprehension. “Does it say how to turn eggs into Cocoa Puffs?” Harry seems to have forgotten all about yesterday’s promise to learn how to unfreeze James. Harry was more focused when we taught him how to punch, Bucky notes. HARRY HAS LOST HIS HYPERVIGILANCE, the other voice references a term Professor X had used in James’ therapy sessions. That’s a good thing, right? Bucky pauses for a moment. Can’t seem to kick the habit ourselves. As the voices converse in James’ mind, Harry pretends to read the page in front of him. “Wave your wand and say Cocoa Puffo. ” “Cocoa Puffo!” Harry waves his Wii wand with no result. “That’s not a real spell,” Sirius tells him. “Yes it is! It says it there!” Harry jabs his Wii wand into a passage about energy. Loki is incredulous. “You can’t read at all?” James is equally incredulous that Loki hadn’t realized that during his time on Earth. “Not all children are geniuses like me.” Stark boasts. “No offense, Oliver. I’m pretty sure most children are older when they learn to read, and it takes years.” “Matilda can read,” Harry says, unhelpfully. “What kind of story is this? Why don’t the pictures move?” “That’s a rune,” Loki tells him. Harry runs off and does not return after 2.1 minutes. Loki looks extremely miffed when he finds Harry kneeling on a kitchen chair, coloring. Stark can’t contain his laughter. “Focus, Harry,” Loki admonishes. “I’m making pictures to make them move,” Harry informs them without looking up from his art. Loki scowls and vanishes the crayons with a snap of his fingers. “You said you’d teach me magic,” Harry scowls back, unfazed by Loki’s annoyance. “Not reading. And if I can make pictures move, I can make Dad move if he freezes.” Harry looks to Sirius, but Sirius is on Loki’s side. “Even in Hogwarts, we have to take a bunch of notes before we can do anything. And we start out with stuff like turning matches into needles and levitating feathers.” “I can’t take notes, ‘cos he took my crayons.” Loki lets out a long breath. “You cannot write,” “I know all my letters.” Harry says defensively. “I hope you do not plan on stopping there,” “I can write my name, see? H-A-R-R-Y.” Harry traces the letters in the air with his Wii wand, frowning in disappointment when the letters don’t materialize. He shakes the Wii wand vigorously, like Thor swinging Mjolnir. “You look like me and are gifted with magic, yet you take after Thor, preferring brawn to brains.” Loki is clearly disappointed. “I want to be like you,” Harry insists. “But Thor’s cool, because he can fly,” “So you want to be me,” Stark grins. “I’m the best of both of them. I’m a genius and I can fly,” “You do not possess an iota of magical ability, Stark.” Stark waves a hand. “Pfft, who needs it?” “I do!” Harry shouts. “I want to learn magic.” “Magic takes discipline, focus and rigorous study.” Loki tells him. Harry jumps at the word discipline, and Loki clarifies “It takes a dedicated mind.” James scowls, his metal arm whirring. “I make sure Harry has intellectual stimulation,” “Yes, you’re doing a tremendous job.” Loki rounds on James. “He cannot read, knows no arithmetic. Are you telling me he knows nothing?” “I can count,” Harry argues. James remembers Harry’s attempt at counting cards during Go Fish. Harry really isn’t arguing his case well. Loki is entirely unimpressed with James and Jarvis’ attempts to educate Harry. “You know, exercise helps your brain.” Stark uncharacteristically tries to end the argument rather than fueling the fire. “At least, that’s what Jarvis keeps telling me when I’m in my lab for four days straight.” “I’m here to teach you magic, not exercise you like a dog,” Loki scoffs. Sirius protests in mock offense. “You’re not teaching me magic,” Harry says. James sits down, pulls Harry onto his lap, and starts to read about a tree called Yggdrasil. He butchers the pronunciation the first time, much to Loki’s dismay. “Can I climb it?” Harry asks. “No. It is a world tree. You can traverse it. I know many hidden pathways. It is not a tree for climbing.” “I can reach any branch with my moto-broom.” Harry says, having not heard a word James read. “Is that… traversering it?” “Yggdrasil is a tree that links the realms.” Loki tells him. Stark looks incredibly intrigued. Harry is completely unimpressed. “When can we make Cocoa Puffs?” “We are not making Cocoa Puffs,” Loki’s patience seems about to snap. “Are we going to make other Harrys?” Harry pumps his fists in the air and runs off toward a mirror. He places his palm against his reflection and shouts “Come out, mirror me! We can make a whole hockey team of us. And we can learn to unfreeze the rink. And then we can unfreeze Dad.” Harry’s reflection continues to copy him. Harry darts away, turns, and tells his reflection. “Don’t run away! Follow me, like a train.” Loki folds his arms. “Mirrors are only used by Midgardians who pretend to wield magic.” “That’s not true,” Sirius argues. “James and I- your first dad- had a special set of mirrors to talk to each other in detentions, though your… Stark phones do the same thing.” “My phones do way more,” Stark sounds vaguely offended that his phones would only function as a phone. Harry isn’t listening, too absorbed in his game. He creeps towards the mirror, trying to be as stealthy as James. He tags his reflection and runs away. “Come on, Mirror Me.” “There’s not really another you in there,” Loki tells him. “Yours aren’t really you,” Harry replies with an equally exasperated huff. Harry flails wildly in front of the mirror, shaking his chin-length hair. He stills his body completely then suddenly lunges, as if to trick his reflection into being unable to copy him. “Sit down,” Loki snaps, and Harry drops to the ground. “Good. Close your eyes,” Harry places his hands over his eyes, as if playing hide-and-seek. The next five minutes involve Loki trying to teach Harry a sort of meditation. James knows Harry had once been capable of remaining still and silent for an extended period of time, much as James did as the soldier. Now, Harry is flighty and impatient, constantly asking when they’re going to get to real magic. Loki has evidently reached his limit. “You’re impossible. I’ll teach you when you can read. And focus.” Loki turns on his heel and stalks haughtily out of the room. Harry pouts at the door. “He didn’t even teach me anything.” Sirius snorts and ruffles Harry’s hair. “I knew there was a reason we don’t start schooling until we’re eleven.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It’s just as hard now to find a sparring partner as it would have been before receiving the serum. Bucky had tried to teach Steve to box, but he’d had to pull his punches, as much as Steve bellyached about it. Before the serum, beating Steve was too easy; now, it’s too easy for Steve to beat others. Thor is one of the few people Steve’s found who’s an even match, but that’s hardly the only reason Steve likes him. They’re both unfamiliar with modern earth, and Thor understands more than most what Steve went through with seeing Bucky fall and then finding him again, irrevocably changed and fighting for the wrong side. While Loki teaches Harry magic and James supervises as always, Steve and Thor decide to spar. They’ve been given access to the Danger Room, which has training simulations that are realistic beyond anything Steve would have ever dreamed possible. For now, they’re sparring outside on the sprawling lawns, not far from where students run laps in PE, stumbling and grumbling about the early hour. Logan barks orders at the students, nasty as any drill sergeant. “Quicksilver could crawl laps around you!” Steve runs a few laps as a warm up, easily passing even the fastest student multiple times. “On your left,” he tells them each time he runs past. All the students glare at him as he laps them effortlessly. Thor lays a hand on Steve’s shoulder with enough force to knock most people down. “Perhaps we should head inside, to avoid demoralizing them with our superior strength and stamina.” They stay outside but move farther away, putting aside the shield and Mjolnir to grapple on the ground. Loki appears out of nowhere, eying them disdainfully as they roll around on grass. They’re wet from dew, not sweat. Steve hardly sweats anymore. “You’ve corrupted a young mage,” Loki tells Thor. “He prefers physical pursuits to scholarly ones,” “You expected a scholar?” Steve’s tone remains dry as if he’s not currently attempting to put Thor in a headlock. “Harry will only be turning five soon.” Steve may be new to this century, but he hadn’t attended any sort of school until he was older than Harry. Kids are supposed to run and play. Sure, Steve had spent a lot of his childhood sitting and drawing, or poring over comic books he and Bucky had scrounged up for. Trying to play stickball in the street had set off his asthma, and the other boys had teased him mercilessly for not being keeping up with them. “He cannot read,” Loki says, exasperated. “Only books with pictures capture his attention, and not for long. His ability to focus is abysmal. Rather like yours, Thor.” Thor frowns as he struggles to pin Steve, who learned how to slip out of holds back when he had no muscles to speak of. “I recall you spending much of our lessons devising new tricks to torment our tutors,” Thor reminds Loki, and Steve aches that he can’t blackmail and banter with James like this, like when he’d been Bucky. “I need to hear some of those.” Tony grins at Loki as he saunters into the yard. “And you need to come up with better lesson plans.” Loki opens his mouth to argue, but Tony doesn’t let him get a word in. “Your lessons flew right over Harry’s head, and not even literally. He definitely would’ve paid attention if you’d done that.” “I started with the basics.” Loki says, as if Tony is daft. “Still, it would be like if I signed him up for engineering courses at MIT. I didn't even get my degrees that young. I was building circuit boards when I was his age, but he’s fine just flying around being a kid.” Tony barely pauses to take a breath or realize that Thor and Loki don’t know what MIT is. “Like I said before, not everyone can be a genius like us, and we don’t want Harry following in our footsteps exactly.” Steve remembers the amount of effort and patience required to convince Harry to aspire to be a hero in a way that didn’t involve fighting. “He should hope to be like me.” Loki doesn’t quite puff his chest out. “You’re setting a standard he can’t live up to.” Tony’s eyes flick over at Steve before continuing to bore into Loki. “If you made him feel bad about it-“ Rather than looking at Tony, Loki scowls bitterly at Thor. Steve had heard how Thor was the favored prince, constantly overshadowing Loki and setting a bar Loki could never reach. Thor seems burdened with guilt about it now, though he’d hardly realized the fact during their childhood. “He did not listen to a word I said. I am a prince. Such disrespect would usually be punished.“ Jarvis suddenly speaks from the phone in Tony’s pocket, making Steve and Thor startle. “One can hardly blame Master Harry for his lack of attention and conversational skills, with Sir as a role model.” “Careful, J, or you’ll be answering calls on a crappy customer support hotline,” Before Loki can respond, Harry bursts out of the mansion with excited shouts of “PE! PE! PE!” James and Sirius follow closely. Harry starts to run towards Logan’s class, but James holds him back. “Don’t bother them,” Harry buzzes around Steve and the others like an overexcited wasp. He plows into Thor, beaming. “Thor! Let’s play Lightning Ball!” He rubs his scar, then points at Loki “He won’t teach me magic.” James insists that Harry stretch first and leads him through a series of stretches. Harry is somewhat petulant but follows along with James. Loki watches, clearly miffed that Harry listens more to James than him. “I overestimated your abilities,” Loki’s words surprisingly lack a condescending tone, until he adds “I should have known Midgardian development was slower than that of Asgardians.” “I can read P-E.” Harry says petulantly. “There are many skilled mages who would fall to their knees and beg for my tutelage,” Loki says with a somewhat unnerving smile. Tony rolls his eyes. “Yeah, and people would beg to live with me. Or sleep with me.” “I don’t sleep with you, I sleep with Dad.” “I didn’t mean like crawling in your parents’ bed after a nightmare.” Tony says. “I never did that.” “What did you mean?” Loki asks with a wicked grin. “He’s too young for the birds and bees,” Steve gives voice to James’ death glare. “I’m big enough to play Lucky Ducks.” Harry argues. “The point is, people would go nuts to spend time with any of us. Even Harry’s a celebrity. Face it, you’re not exactly special here, Loki.” Steve thinks countless people would sell their souls to live in this mansion alone, even without a ton of superhero roommates. He certainly never imagined he’d live somewhere as grandiose as Xavier’s Institute. “Some Hogwarts students skive off class even though muggles would be desperate to go to Hogwarts,” Sirius says. “Petunia even begged Dumbledore to let her attend.” Harry blinks at this news about his aunt. “Did he steal her, too?” “No. He said she couldn’t come. Probably why she turned into such a bitter bit-“ “Language,” Steve warns. With the recent revelation of magic, Steve’s sure there will be more of that bitter jealousy rearing its ugly head. They’ve already seen hostility between so-called ordinary people and those with mutations or magic. Steve can’t say he’s surprised. He’d seen the worst of humanity in the war, though he was surprised to learn there was a wizarding war happening the same time as his own, and that Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald the same year Steve crashed into the arctic. “I’m not going to Hogwarts,” Harry insists for the umpteenth time, completely needlessly. He’s finished stretching and starts to drag a mesh sack of dodgeballs. “I’m learning here.” “Not well,” Loki mutters under his breath as Harry starts hurling the dodgeballs. Loki stops one mid-flight and leaves it hovering out of Harry’s reach. James frowns at Loki. “Jarvis has been providing a curriculum focusing on pre-literacy and math skills, fine motor development and social development.” “You know, preschool,” Tony points out. “Reading picture books is a huge part of it. Surely even you started with storybooks.” “You can teach me magic nursery school!” Harry beams at Loki, as if that’s the most brilliant idea on any planet. Loki seems to think being beaten with Mjolnir would be preferable. “You still have not shown the slightest appreciation for my efforts this morning.” “You mean like the heaps of appreciation you’ve shown for letting you crash on our planet?” Tony says pointedly. Sirius jumps in with “Or for giving you a trial before locking you away for three years?” Loki inclines his head. “I have received harsher punishments on Asgard for past transgressions. Rarely was my side of the situation taken into consideration.” Sirius raises a pretend glass in a commiserating toast. “Your warriors hold magic in higher esteem.” Loki says somewhat appreciatively towards Tony and Steve. “I should not have viewed your strengths as lesser. Nor should you view young Harry’s as lesser.” Thor says solemnly. Harry throws a ball for Thor to zap with lightning; it falls to a fried crisp, and Harry looks between Loki and Sirius, waiting for one of them to fix it. Sirius draws his wand and mutters “ Reparo ,” Harry hurls another ball for Thor to zap, and then Harry waves his own hand with a shout of “ Reparo !” The ball continues smoldering. He isn’t even holding his Wii Wand, not that that ever works like Sirius’s. Tony had tried to explain the Wii to Steve, but it definitely would have been considered magic in Steve’s day. Harry turns to Sirius. “Is there a magical nursery school? Lila gets to go.” “Barton’s daughter? Is she magical?” Loki asks. Steve’s glad Clint isn’t hearing this, because he’d put an arrow through Loki in an instant. “No,” Harry shrugs, unconcerned. “She gets to play and do art and storytime.” “You do all that here,” Steve says. Harry has more to entertain himself with than Steve ever had. “What do you do at magic nursery school?” Harry asks. “We don’t have that,” Sirius tells him. “Kids are homeschooled until they’re eleven.” “Like here?” Harry gestures at the mansion. “We’re at a home school.” “You’re the only magical preschooler here, Oliver.” Tony says, though Harry clearly already knows as much. “Who knows, maybe there are some munchkin mages running around the Stark Tower preschool. James isn’t really my employee but I could definitely get you a slot. It’s my tower, after all.” Harry grins. “Is there flying class? I’d ace that!” Steve chuckles. Harry’s clearly heard the older students discuss acing or, in some cases, failing tests. “There’s a flying class at Hogwarts,” Sirius tells him. “We didn’t get to fly at Hogwarts,” Harry crosses his tiny arms. There’s a sharp whistle and Logan calls “All right, warmup is over!” “Warmup?!” gasps Bobby Drake. “We’re dying here!” “Well you’re about to die some more,” Logan smirks. “Dodgeball time! Listen up. We’re going to be recreating some battles, because you can’t hammer down the details in my history class.” Thor raises Mjolnir high and Loki sighs. “Not that hammer, you oaf.” “The Man of Hidden Claws has declared a battle practice!” Thor seems far more excited than the students, some of whom look even more worried. “It’s Wolverine.” Logan growls, but Thor’s attention is on Harry, who’s smiling just as broadly as he is. “I want to play, too.” Harry insists, but the students are too busy arguing who gets Steve and Thor on their team. “Jarvis, prep the suit.” “Shall I re-enroll you in high school, sir?” Jarvis asks from the phone. “Shut up, Steve and Thor are playing too, and they’re both ancient.” Tony tells his AI. “And me!” Harry hollers. “We’re playing without powers.” Logan tells the group, to a collective groan. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Watching Steve instruct a bunch of teenagers on battle strategy is sort of hilarious, because they’re too focused on trash talking their friends before the game has even started.“I’m going to make you put on the fireworks when I beat you,” Bobby taunts Jubilee.“Yeah, right! This isn’t a snowball fight.” Jubilee throws back. Rogue’s taken to jabbing at Tony. “Can’t have your AI calculate shots for you now,” Tony scoffs. “I can calculate aerodynamics in my sleep. Besides, aren’t you failing calculus? You might want to ask my AI to tutor you.”Logan’s lips curl around his cigar. “You’re going to want to listen to Spangles if you want a prayer of passing your next history test.”Tony claps Steve on the back. At least Steve doesn’t have personal experience with the Civil War, though Logan apparently does. He’d tease Logan about being old, but Thor and Loki make their ancient ages quite relative.Jubilee points to the glow in Tony’s shirt and proclaims, “Three thousand points if you hit his arc reactor!” Loki and Thor lead their group around the side of the mansion, while Tony, Steve and James stay in the front with their team. “I need my motorbroom,” Harry reaches out, ready to call it to him as Thor does with Mjolnir.“Ain’t any planes back then,” Logan tells him.“But there were brooms,” Sirius points out.“Didn’t see any when I fought there,” Logan takes out his cigar to blow his whistle, then clamps his cigar between his teeth again.Students sprint for the balls. Rogue tosses one at Harry, obviously holding back. In one fluid motion, James scoops Harry onto his back, holding him safely in place with his metal arm. He snatches dodgeballs out of both his opponents’ and teammates’ hands, sending them flying towards his opponents.In five seconds, he’s hit almost the entire team single-handedly; even more impressively, he’s only using one hand since the other is holding Harry. Kitty cheats and lets the ball pass right through her, and Kurt starts teleporting everywhere, the loud bamf of his teleportation barely audible over students shouting. Loki was clearly never planning on following the power ban in the first place, and has been vanishing balls and teleporting since the moment the battle started. Thor is certainly using his enhancements to dodge James’ throws, which whiz like bullets through the air. He disregards the ‘dodge’ part of dodgeball, jovially hammering them back with his fists.Tony has to admit Rogue has a point; there’s a reason Jarvis watches his back in the suit. Keeping track of Kurt and Loki simultaneously is definitely a challenge, even for a genius.A ball thwacks Tony solidly in the chest. “Maybe your AI should tutor you,” Rogue says as Kurt disappears with another bamf and puff of smoke.“I should’ve bet this ‘no powers’ thing wouldn’t last ten seconds.” Tony mutters.Harry wriggles, protesting being put in a piggyback. “Why don’t I get to play?”“Keeping you safe,” James mutters, twisting in an unnatural angle to dodge a ball from Thor’s fist. Loki makes it swerve in midair, chasing James and Harry across the lawn. James leaps and dives while Harry shouts, clearly deciding a piggyback is almost as good as a broom ride.Tony, of course, knew that James was the Winter Soldier. He’d pretty much been the Winter Soldier when he arrived at Tony’s tower, but seeing him as an expressionless fighting machine is jarring. Jarring enough to stop Steve in his tracks. James covers Steve’s back, Harry sandwiched between the two super-soldiers.James snatches the rogue ball from midair and crushes it in his flesh fist, stomping the deflated husk for good measure. Loki grins, repairs it in the blink of an eye, and sends it hurtling after James again. James dives at Loki, who turns out to be an illusion. James manages to land on his feet anyway, spinning and scanning several Lokis grinning from around the lawn.Tony’s about to head inside to grab some popcorn or a scotch to drink while watching the chaos continue to unfold when he realizes he can get Sirius to summon it for him. Or, he could if Sirius weren’t currently Snuffles.Snuffles chases down a ball to bring to James. Tony’s vaguely insulted that Snuffles has stayed in the game longer than he has, but nobody’s aiming for him.“Snuffles, here boy!” Tony calls, pitching his voice higher like people do with actual dogs. Snuffles turns, giving him an exasperated look that only grows when Tony goes on. “How about fetching us some snacks, yeah?”Snuffles huffs and chases another ball, tail whipping hard enough to be a weapon itself.“You can learn new tricks!” Tony calls after him. “You’re not even old!”The rumble of an engine makes Tony turn away from the raging dodgeball battle.A red 1962 Chevrolet Corvette pulls into the Institute’s long driveway. It’s not exactly Tony’s type of car, a bit too old fashioned for his tastes, but he still pauses, half to admire the ride and half to peer at the figures behind the windshield.Coulson and Romanoff.James has clearly sighted them too, even as he continues to dodge and throw. Steve stands at attention when he sees Coulson, leaving him vulnerable to be smacked by a ball.“Jerk,” he mutters at James, whose eyes seem amused even if his lips barely twitch. “We’re on the same side,”“Constant vigilance,” James perfectly imitates Moody.The corvette sweeps around the driveway. Romanoff looks faintly amused, and Coulson just watches blandly, as if superhero scrimmages are nothing new to him. To be fair, they’re probably not, but still, this is infinitely more awesome than anything he’d seen at SHIELD. Or it would be, if Tony were fighting."Lila says you're the aunt." Harry says to Romanoff.Tony nods at Coulson's ride. “I didn’t think you were one for classic cars, Agent, unless it was a Capmobile. Should we add some white and blue? Make it fully star-spangled?”“You won’t lay a hand on Lola.” Coulson says calmly, though he’s clearly fiercely protective of his ride.“Not even Cap?” Tony gestures at Steve. “He’s handy with a brush, not just a shield.”"He painted my Batman toy to be Wolverine." Harry says.Coulson isn’t listening, too busy watching Loki carefully.“I won’t lay a hand on her, you have my word,” Loki keeps his face innocent.“If you mess with her in any way-” Coulson starts to say.Loki rolls his eyes with a huff. “Yes, yes, you’ll make me rue the day I was born.”“Where’s Lola?” says Harry, clearly wondering if someone’s getting hurt and needs to be saved. “Who’s Lola?” “This is Lola,” Coulson smiles at his car. “She’s a Levitating Over Land Automobile.”Harry’s eyes almost bug out of his head. “You have a flying car?! Sirius said he had a flying motorbike.”Tony notes that James and Steve both appear interested, as if that has anything on the Iron Man suits.Steve turns to James and asks, as if trying not to sound hopeful, “Remember the Expo the night before you shipped out?”James’ face goes blank for a moment. “It crashed,”Tony snorts. He finds no small pleasure in the fact that he’s built dozens of Iron Man suits while Howard never got a car airborne for more than a few seconds.“Don’t worry, Jarvis, she’s got nothing on you.” Tony mutters into his phone. Sure, the car’s got a clever acronym name, but Tony’s willing to bet Lola doesn’t have any sort of artificial intelligence.Harry wiggles impatiently on James’ back. “I want to fly her!” “You need a level seven clearance to even sit in Lola,” Romanoff says, and Tony honestly can’t tell if she’s joking until she leans down to whisper “He let Cooper and Lila sit in her.”“They’re my friends!” Harry exclaims. “I shared my motorbroom with them. You should share too. Can I have a go, please?”Coulson lets James sit behind the wheel with Harry in his lap and put the car into hover mode; the wheels fold up and provide propulsion. Harry insists Tony take photos of them for the album.James is much less excited than Harry, but there is a touch of excitement; Steve had once mentioned that Bucky was really into pulp sci-fi magazines. As he takes several pictures, Tony can’t help but say “I could build something better in a weekend. In fact, I have.”“Did you think I forgot about your suits?” James asks tonelessly.“What? No! You can form new memories, it’s just the old ones that are-” Tony stops, pointing an accusing finger at James. “Are you messing with me?!”“No,” James’ face and tone remain flat. “Steve’s the punk.”Steve’s face flashes through several emotions before he quickly turns to Coulson and stands at attention. “Do you have a mission for us, sir? Do we need to debrief on the Magneto incident?”“Make Loki write the report,” Tony waves a dismissive hand. “The Prof’s off visiting Magneto in his new plastic prison.”“I didn’t come about Magneto, but Loki’s assistance was much appreciated,” Coulson says, and Loki looks momentarily stunned before he schools his expression.Tony gestures towards Harry and James in Lola. “Well, I know you didn’t come just to set up this Kodak moment. What is it? Avengers business?”Coulson beckons James to lower Lola to the ground. He pulls out a briefcase and hands it to James.James opens the case, and Tony sees a red book with a black star. James’ face goes blank. “The words don’t work anymore,”The files seem to contain a disturbing amount of information on the Winter Soldier’s programming, not that Tony can read Cyrillic. Tony feels sick just looking at it. It’s obviously exponentially worse for James, but he keeps a stoic demeanor.James angles the files away from Harry, but not before Harry points to a picture of the Soldier and says “That’s you,”“It doesn’t always have to be,” Romanoff says, surprisingly gentle. “It’ll always be in your past, but it doesn’t have to be your future. James, you’ve done a remarkable job making a new life for yourself, but we’d like to offer our assistance. I have some experience in that area.”“You do.” James agrees. “Stark and Professor X helped me a lot.”“Fury, Coulson and Clint helped me start a new life.”Romanoff’s face softens slightly. “You deserve to be free. To take Harry to Coney Island or go for a run with Steve.”“That’s what we’re dismantling HYDRA for.” Tony says. “You know, aside from them being an evil terrorist organization.”Still, he gets where they’re going with this, and he’s been thinking the same thing for a while. They need to get James pardoned.Good thing he has a whole legal team at his disposal. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Over the next several days, everyone becomes a lot less fun. All the big kids spend all their time reading and studying for final exams, which Bobby says are the worst thing ever. Even during basketball, they quiz each other on confusing things. “What’s the sixth element on the periodic table?” “Bacon!” Harry shouts, wanting to hurry this up. They’re slowing down the game with their questions and answers.Bobby gives him a tired look and answers “Carbon.”That’s a dumb answer. Harry thinks for a bit. “Do you shape burgers like cars? Where’s the pee-odic table?”Bobby looks even more tired at all Harry’s questions. All the students are tired, and a lot grumpier. “Must be nice being a genius and not having to study,” Jubilee groans over a large book, almost as big as the one Loki wanted Harry to read.“I didn’t study this much for my O.W.L.s,” Sirius says, then explains “Ordinary Wizarding Levels.”“Sure, rub it in, Mr. Not-even-an-actual-genius-like-Tony.” Jubilee gives Sirius an angry look. She’s still awake when Harry and Dad wake up that night.The next morning, Grandpa’fessor has a meeting with all the students about getting enough sleep.Doctor Bruce and Doctor Hank are happy to help the big kids study. Mr. Stark does, too, except he talks too fast and everyone looks more confused when he explains science stuff. He ends up handing kids his phone so Jarvis can answer their questions.On the morning of Bobby and Jubilee’s history final with Logan, Mr. Stark glares at his phone. “Shit, looks like Coulson and Romanoff weren’t the only ones digging through your paper records.”“Shit!” Harry cries back. Whatever it is, it’s clearly bad.Mr. Stark looks at Dad. “They made you shoot JFK?!”Harry doesn’t know who JFK is, but it’s an easy name to spell. He can tell it’s bad news, though, so he says “shit!” again.Mr. Stark doesn’t laugh this time. He sighs and says, “This’ll turn into a whole mess of a trial instead of a quiet amnesty. Damn, someone leaked the one with mom and-”Dad stares down at his breakfast, both shoulders near his ears. Mr. Stark rubs a hand over his face. “It’s okay, we still have a solid defense.”Harry’s pretty sure he’s not talking about blocking a ball or a puck. Dad said defense was blocking a punch, too. Are people going to punch each other at Dad’s trial?“We can play it that you turned yourself into Avengers custody. You kind of did. And I’ll make sure you can attend via video from the tower.” Mr. Stark tells Dad. “They’re not going to feel safe with you in the courtroom unless you’re shackled to a chair, and none of us want that.”Dad’s breathing gets loud, and fast. Harry remembers Dad shivering seeing Sirius chained to the chair, and all those floating blacked robed things. “Are the bad things going to be there?”“There shouldn’t be any dementors,” Sirius scowls.Mr. Stark talks a lot on the phone the whole morning, but not to Jarvis. He says he’s talking to lawyers and shoos Harry away. Loki keeps reading huge books, only they’re about laws instead of magic. Harry finds Dad and Logan smoking on the lawn. He flies his broom slowly around them, trying to listen without them knowing, but they notice him right away.“I never had a trial,” Logan tells Dad. He’s said he’s done bad stuff, too. “I go wherever I damn please. And I know you’ll watch your back even when they say you’re not guilty.”“If they do,” Dad says.Logan breathes in more smoke and blows it out. “Barton ain’t guilty. Loki got off lightly, and he ain’t even from Earth. Would you lock me up?”Dad answers right away. “No.”Logan raises a brow, clamping his cigar between his teeth. “They’re going to lock you up?!” Harry cries out, horrified. He zooms his broom over to them. “No! They said Sirius didn’t do it. So they’ll say you didn’t do it, too.”“But I did it.” Dad says after a big breath. “Not willingly,” Logan growls, like he’s tired of Dad arguing. He gets a bit less growly when he looks at Harry. “No prison could hold me or your dad long, kid.”Harry likes that thought, except Dad was held in the cold when Hydra had his brain. And he heard Sirius say Azkaban is impossible to escape, even with magic.“Azkaban’s just for magic people, right?” Harry asks Sirius later. They wouldn’t put Dad there, would they? But they put Golden Snitches with tennis balls at the sports shop.Sirius doesn’t look too happy about the question, but he answers yes.“They’re letting me walk free after the other guy broke Harlem,” Doctor Bruce laughs a laugh that’s not funny and plays with his glasses. “Though Ross hunted me for years. I know they’re, uh, still hunting you.”Mr. Stark works on making something that can show memories like a telly screen. “Dad has a phone now. We can watch videos of us on it.” Harry points out. Mr. Stark was the one to give it to Dad.“Yeah, but if nobody recorded it, we need telepathy.” Mr. Stark says. “Or whatever the wizards call it. Legilimency.”Mr. Stark adds that not everyone can look in people’s heads like Harry’s Grandpa’fessor. By the time all the big kids finish their big exams, people seem a lot happier. They talk a lot about summer holidays, and Bobby seems excited even though his parents didn’t like that he’s a mutant.“Do they hit you?” Harry asks. He knows now that it’s wrong for grown-ups to hit kids, even if they are a bit freaky.Bobby shakes his head. “They chilled out after seeing the X-Men save the planet.”“They have your ice powers?” Harry’s confused. Bobby laughs and explains that they’re nicer now.“Well, you’re welcome at the tower,” Mr. Stark offers. “I’ve got a spare floor you could turn into a hockey rink.”“Yes! Bobby, stay with us!” Harry’s so excited he can’t stay still, though Dad doesn’t seem too happy to hear that. Dad doesn’t like Bobby’s powers much, but he never makes Bobby feel bad about them.Now that exams are over, a lot of the big kids sleep until almost lunch, but Dad sleeps even less. When the big kids all head off for their summer holidays, Mr. Stark invites everyone else to the tower. Doctor Banner agrees to come, but Logan doesn’t.Loki gets them there in a blink. They’re standing in the X-Mansion, and then suddenly they’re in the tower’s sitting room, looking over almost the whole city. “That was smoother than Apparition,” Sirius blinks and shakes his head. Loki looks really proud of himself.“You sure know how to make having a private jet feel like a hassle,” Mr. Stark mutters. “Even my armor feels slow now, but flying is more fun. Right, Harry?”Harry nods with a smile and Thor hefts his hammer. “Guess I’m paying Happy to not drive me around, now.” “I believe Mr. Hogan is enjoying his impromptu vacation, ” Jarvis speaks from the ceiling, not from Mr. Stark’s phone. “Are you going to be my magical chauffeur?” Mr. Stark points at Loki. “I sort of imagined that would be more like a magic carpet, but-”“I have better things to do than be at your beck and call.” Loki says.“Like I said, flying is more fun.” Mr. Stark holds out his hand for Harry to high-five. Mr. Stark almost falls down when Thor gives him a high-five, too.“My fort fort!” Harry shouts when he sees it’s still standing. “Sirius, come and see! There’s a surprise!”Sirius follows Harry in, and Harry runs around. “See? It’s so big inside!”Sirius doesn’t seem very surprised about that. He says all magical tents are bigger inside. Sirius seems more amazed by the smooth metal and by all the screens. The X-Homeschool is all old and fancy, except for the basement, but Harry’s not allowed down there.Harry points to the huge telly screen. “When are they going to say you’re not bad, Dad?”Mr. Stark opens his mouth, but Jarvis speaks. “ Sir, Miss Potts was hoping to introduce Sergeant Barnes to his legal team. Are you amenable to meeting them, Sergeant Barnes?” Dad nods once.Miss Potts comes in through the lift with a whole team of women and men in suits. Harry hides behind Dad’s leg, and Steve jumps in front of Dad even though he doesn’t have his shield.Miss Potts introduces the legal team, who will be arguing that Dad isn't bad. Harry doesn’t even know why they need to argue that; he knew that when he’d just turned four, and he’s almost five now. Adults can be pretty dumb sometimes.“They’ve all gone through extensive background checks, and they’ve been representing Stark Industries for years.” says Miss Potts.“We haven’t had as many HYDRA moles as SHIELD,” Mr. Stark sounds proud, but also furious they had any. Harry had heard the big kids talking about moles in a different way, something to do with maths and chemicals. As Harry tries to figure out the difference between that mole and this mole, Mr. Stark points at two men in suits. “They aren’t part of our legal team.”A man wearing sunglasses holds out his hand. “Matthew Murdock.”“Can you shoot lasers from your eyes?” Harry asks. Mr. Summers wears sunglasses. But so does Mr. Stark, and only shoots them from his Iron Man suits.“No,” says Mr. Murdock with a tiny smile. “I don’t even see with my eyes.”“But that’s what eyes do,” Harry says, confused. This guy doesn’t even have a magic eye like Moody, or a patch like Fury. “Do you see with your ears?”“Sort of,” the other guy, Mr. Foggy, says. He has kind of long hair, like Harry and Dad and Sirius.One woman on the legal team, with a wand and a smile that flashes bright against her dark face. “This will be the first time we use memories directly as evidence in a non magical trial,” she tells them. “As well as legilimens, or telepathic evidence.”“Are we using the truth potion?” Dad asks, rigid. Harry looks at Sirius; hadn’t he drunk something at his trial? “You won't let Dad go to jail, right?” Harry asks them all with wide eyes. He holds onto Dad extra tight, in case someone tries to take him away.“We have a compelling case and plenty of evidence, even if we didn’t have direct access to memories.” Mr. Murdock tells him. Harry doesn’t know what that means; it’s not a yes, but he says it like it is.“You are in excellent hands, Sergeant Barnes,” Jarvis says from the ceiling. “We got this, buddy.” Mr. Stark pats Dad on his metal shoulder. “If they try to take your prosthesis, citing it as a weapon, well, the Supreme Court couldn’t take my suits.”“They want to take your arm?!” Harry can’t believe what he’s hearing.“I just said they won’t, Oliver.”Dad sends Harry off to play with Snuffles while he goes over files with the legal team. Harry keeps running between his fort fort and Dad’s lap, because Dad looks like he needs all the hugs.Mr. Murdock has a bunch of papers with dots, which he says is how he reads. Harry can’t read those, but he bets Loki can’t, either.Someone says something about acquittal, and Harry says ”We’re not quitting!”“Acquittal means not guilty.” Mr. Foggy says. “Which means they didn’t do it.”“Dad didn’t do it,” Harry agrees. “Hydra did.”Ms. Potts pulls Mr. Stark aside and to talk. Harry isn’t listening until he hears her say “What do you mean you had Jarvis forge an adoption? Are you trying to make the PR for this case harder?”“Pepper doesn’t trust your abilities,” Mr. Stark calls to the ceiling. “Shall I erase the records, sir?” Jarvis asks. “We could do them again, when Sergeant Barnes is free.” Mr. Stark waves a hand. “I’m sure Romanoff and Barton have tons of fake identities. Jarvis and I have been having fun with all of James and Harry’s. James Wayne has a complete backstory; lost his arm in an accident and spruced it up to fuel his cosplay hobby. Adopted little Oliver and is now working as a security advisor for Stark Industries.”“Wayne? Like Batman?” Harry asks.“There’s also James Barnum, circus performer. Lost his arm in a lion taming accident, and adopted a magical kid who was being abused by the ringmaster.”“Mr. Barton was in a circus.” Harry says. “Did he know James Barnum?”“These are you guys.” Mr. Stark says. “You’re forgetting. Do you have amesia like Dad?”“No, it’s playing pretend. Like Batman and Robin.”“These are worse than the worst of those stories people post about us online,” Doctor Bruce mumbles. “Besides, aren’t we aiming to clear James’ name?”Soon, everyone on telly’s talking about how Captain America wasn’t the only soldier to seem to come back from the dead; his buddy Bucky Barnes did, too.“Does anyone stay dead?” one lady asks with a laugh.“My mummy an’ my first dad.” Harry tells the telly. Mr. Stark nods.A man on another channel says “Breaking news: the newest HYDRA atrocity involves kidnapping Bucky Barnes and forcing him to carry out over sixty assassinations. More at eleven.”Harry frowns. That’s way after his bedtime.The next guy is even worse.“They actually believe Barnes was brainwashed?” the guy chortles. “Figures, they didn’t realize their own coworkers were HYDRA. Let me tell you, Barnes is a traitor who signed up willingly. Can’t believe people are still calling him an American hero when he shot the president. I say the only justice is a bullet in the-”Jarvis changes the channel before the guy finishes talking. This one shows videos of huge crowds of shouting people holding signs that Harry can’t read. Apparently these crowds are all over, and there’s one at the bottom of the tower.Steve starts to stand, but Dad tells him not to go protest too.Harry and Dad both have a hard time falling asleep. Dad eventually takes him to the gym. Harry watches Dad punch a bag, over and over. Harry doesn’t normally like the sound of things being hit, but this makes him think of how Dad will protect him against anything.Harry wishes he could protect Dad from stupid people.Dad stops punching things, breathing hard, but he’s not all sweaty. He starts to do push-ups, and Harry lays on Dad’s back, trying to shield him and cuddle close at the same time.Harry falls asleep as his dad goes up and down. He wakes up curled in the boxing ring with Snuffles, a blanket draped over them both.Harry’s first question when he wakes up is “Did they say you’re free?”Dad’s mouth twists, but it’s not a smile. “The trial starts today.”“You’ll be free by lunch, right?”Dad huffs. “Doubt it. It’ll take several days.”Sirius’s trial didn’t, Harry thinks, as Snuffles changes into Sirius.“I felt sick before my trial,” Sirius tells Dad, but he mutters that Dad’s lucky there aren’t dementors. Dad stays in the tower for the trial, dressed in plain clothes. Harry says he should wear his Batman suit so everyone knows he’s a hero, but Ms. Potts says no.Dad sends Harry off to play with Sirius, but Harry wants to stay with Dad. He saw Sirius’s trial, so he should get to watch Dad’s too.He only gets glimpses while Sirius tries to keep him busy. Mr. Murdock and Miss Michaels, the other team’s lawyer, ask lots of questions, which sounds like final exams.The other team keeps saying that Dad should get in trouble. They go on and on about treason and terrorism and more words Harry doesn’t know.It’s confusing grownup talk, and he’d really rather watch sports, except these people are trying to send Dad to jail. One lady says Dad killed her daughter.The judge calls for a recess, like Lila and Cooper talked about. The kids at the X-Homeschool don’t get recess, and Harry wonders why these grownups do. He doesn’t see anyone playing.Sirius takes Harry away to the tower's gym and makes the toy broomstick bigger so he can play Quidditch with Harry. For the first time he can remember, Harry doesn’t want to play Quidditch, or even fly. All he can think about is what people are saying about Dad. Why isn’t Mr. Murdock defending him?They still haven’t said Dad’s free by the end of the day. Mr. Barton calls, but Harry hardly gets to talk to Cooper and Lila before it’s bedtime.Harry can’t even sneak out of bed to listen to Dad and Mr. Barton, because Jarvis is watching.Mr. Barton does most of the talking, but not much about the trial or their brains being stolen. At least, Harry doesn’t think so. He falls asleep.The next day, the other team is still making Dad look really bad, but the other team’s lawyer starts sneezing whenever she tries to ask a question. Mr. Stark says it’s Loki, but Loki swears he’s not doing anything.Loki and Thor play with Harry by making fake trials. Loki usually plays the person people are saying is a villain, like Dad. Thor’s the judge with the hammer, and Harry’s the lawyer, except Loki keeps talking over him. Loki’s the only one who’s read those huge law books.Harry’s superhero action figures and Thomas trains are cast as the crowd, jury, and all the people being asked questions. Sirius does voices for all the toys, but he doesn’t make them come alive. They pretend Loki’s on trial for making the other team’s lawyer sneeze, but Harry argues that’s good, because then she looks silly and stops making Dad look like a bad guy.Thor swings Mjolnir and says Loki’s not guilty, which means he didn’t do it. Harry holds a trial for his Wolverine toy, arguing that HYDRA made Wolverine do everything bad, too. Harry’s pretty sure all the same stuff that happened to Dad happened to Logan.Harry makes all the toys say Wolverine is good, because Sirius won’t. “We’re done!” he shouts.Jarvis tells him Dad’s real trial isn’t done yet. Harry groans.Later, when the claws on Harry’s toy Wolverine become floppy like noodles, Harry argues it is Loki and sends him to time-out. Then he thinks about Dad going to jail, which is the biggest time-out in the world, and feels bad. “You can come out now!” Harry yells to Loki. They’ve had two trials, but Dad’s real one is still going. Harry says so to Mr. Murdock and Nelson when they meet with Dad.It takes grownups forever to decide if someone’s going to get in trouble. At least, it takes the ones on the telly forever. Harry’s aunt and uncle had said everything was his fault as soon as it happened, and Mr. Stark is always quick to say everything was HYDRA’s fault, not Dad’s.Harry’s heard Mr. Stark say that on the phone a lot, and he shows up in a suit and tie to say so on the telly, too. He goes into a box and has to say he’s telling the truth. Harry frowns. Weren’t they going to use potions?A woman asks Mr. Stark if Dad killed his parents. “HYDRA did, even if they used his hands.” Mr. Stark says. “They made their asset do it. Had to torture Bucky and fry his brain to make the Asset, and I know how fast torture makes a man cave.”Mr. Stark isn’t joking at all. “James has no love for Hydra. He’s been giving us intel to take them down. His choice is to destroy them, not join them.”Still, some people don’t believe him. When Mr. Stark gets back to the tower, a lot of people on the telly talk about what he said.“Tony Stark was tortured, but he didn’t build weapons for the bad guys.” says one guy, “He became Iron Man instead, and destroyed the bastards. And we’re supposed to forgive Barnes for not being strong enough?”“They didn’t erase my memories,” Mr. Stark calls an Iron Man glove to his hand and shoots the telly screen but Harry’s counted five on this floor. A new one arrives before the end of the day.“You should really stop watching the news,” Mr. Stark tells them.“But you said I can watch telly whenever I want,”“Yeah, but you’re a kid. You shouldn’t care about the news.”“But it’s about Dad!” Harry argues. Jarvis tells Dad, in a very sorry tone, that people are sending him hate mail. Mr. Stark claps Dad on the shoulder and says he’s no stranger to it, even as Iron Man.“Can’t say I blame them,” Dad mutters.Harry bets all the mail is mean, from what people on the telly have been saying, but he doesn’t make a bet about it. He really, really hopes he’d lose that bet. “There are plenty of letters offering their support, admiration and condolences,” Jarvis says. “ Along with hundreds of thousands of online comments.” The next day, Steve goes on the telly in his Captain America suit. “Bucky was the best soldier I ever knew, one of the best men I’ve ever known. HYDRA took him as a prisoner of war. He was tortured, unable to resist, and you’re trying to imply he did it willingly?” Steve shakes his head. “If there’s any justice left here, you’ll leave James alone. We know HYDRA's the real culprit. James already spent seventy years as a prisoner of war; a life sentence for the crime of being captured. And you want to give him another life sentence- or worse- for crimes he was forced to commit?!”Steve’s yelling now. “The fact we even need a trial for this is-”“Objection!” shouts another man.The minister- no, she’s called a judge here- says “Sustained. Calm yourself, Captain Rogers.”“Would you say Sergeant Barnes was just following orders?” the other team’s lawyer asks. “I would expect you of all people to know how dangerous that excuse is.”Steve’s even madder hearing that than hearing what HYDRA did to Dad. He gets so angry that the judge bangs her little hammer and Steve has to leave.There’s a huge crowd with cameras outside the courthouse, but Steve pushes through them. He comes back to the tower, furious, and Harry makes sure to stay away, even though Steve’s never hit him. Even Ms. Romanoff talks on the telly. At first it’s about how Dad shot through her to hit a scientist, but then she changes.“I grew up in the Red Room.” Ms. Romanoff tells everyone. “That was classified information, but now the whole world knows I was an assassin. That’s all I knew. They had James train me, and the other girls in the Black Widow program. He had fewer memories than we did.”One man says, “Some would say you belong in a penitentiary too.” Miss Romanoff seems to know that Harry didn’t know what a penitentiary is. “You’re not going to put any of us in prison.” Harry thinks that’s the end of the trial, that they’ll finally say Dad is free, but it goes on and on and on. Grandpa’fessor talks in the courtroom too, revealing that he’s been in Dad’s head, seen the proof that HYDRA stole his brain, and that Dad’s been slowly taking it back. Grandpa’fessor shares that he’s helped make sure HYDRA can’t steal Dad’s brain ever again. Even hearing that doesn’t make them say Dad’s not guilty. The trial still isn’t done when it ends for the day.“I don’t know if I’m worth all this to you,” Dad tells Steve that evening when Miss Romanoff has invited herself over for dinner. Jarvis won’t play the news during dinner, because people are saying bad stuff about Mr. Stark and Steve too. Mr. Stark doesn’t seem to care.“I’ll go to bat for you anytime,” Steve tells him, seriously. “And I’m not the only one.”“Yeah, I’ve been Team James for ages.” Mr. Stark says around a mouthful of pizza. “I was Team Barton and I didn’t even know the guy. You’ve been living with me for almost a year and you haven’t killed me yet. That’s proof you’re a good guy.”“Tony,” Steve warns.Dad helps Harry cut his steak, flipping the knife in his hand. Mr. Stark raises one eyebrow. “It’s good they aren’t seeing your knife work, though some of those pictures-”“Tony,” Steve cuts him off.Dad cuts through the plate on accident and stares down at the knife in his hands.Mr. Stark quickly says that Steve’s birthday is coming up, and keeps teasing him about it being on the fourth of July. Harry doesn’t know why.“The best birthday gift would be James being declared not guilty.” Steve says.“I wanted that for my birthday!” Harry cries, “I never got a birthday wish and now Steve wished it! It’s not fair!”The whole thing isn’t fair. It’s not fair Dad has to have a dumb long trial when nobody else did. It’s not fair people are saying awful stuff about Dad, worse than what Harry’s aunt and uncle said about him.Mr. Stark suggests that Harry go to nursery school lower in the tower, but Harry won’t be going anywhere without Dad. The next morning, not even Jarvis will let Harry watch the trial on telly. Dad’s on a video call with the people on the telly. They’re probably watching Dad’s memories of HYDRA hurting him. Or his missions like killing Mr. Stark’s mum and dad.Harry’s tired of not being able to play with Dad. Every trial day is longer than when Dad has therapy with Grandpa’fessor, and Dad always looks even sadder. It’s worse than waiting during the alien attack, because at least he waited with Dad for the Avengers and X-Men to kick the aliens’ bums.Harry’s terrified that people will say Dad’s bad for good, and take him away. Or what if bad guys burst through the window and steal Dad to fry his brain again? And then freeze him?Harry doesn’t even hear Sirius talking to him. He doesn’t want to play with Sirius or Snuffles. He wants to be in Dad’s arms, the safest place in the whole wide world, even safer than the X-Homeschool. Harry would leave the tower and the X-Homeschool if it meant staying with Dad.Harry backs up and runs at the door, trying to run through it like Kitty does.Instead, there’s a hook on his neck and he’s whooshed and squeezed through a tunnel. He gasps. It’s just like when they went to Mr. Stark’s seaside house.When he opens his eyes, he’s not at the seaside house. He’s sitting on Dad’s lap, in front of a huge, flat screen showing the courtroom. Everyone on the screen is looking at him and Dad.“Is that Harry Potter?” someone asks. The judge has to bang her hammer a lot to quiet everyone down. “When are you going to say Dad’s not bad?” Harry demands. “He’s a hero, better than Batman. He saved me so many times. The bad stuff is all HYDRA’s fault. They messed with Dad’s brain and freezed him. Dad’s the best Dad. He’s going to take me to Coney Island and the Olympic Games in London! But you’re taking forever!”“Harry,” Dad sighs, picking him up and starting to carry him out of the room. “Don’t tell them the plans.”Harry glares at everyone on screen. “Didn’t you hear Mr. Stark? He’s Iron Man. And Miss Romanoff and Steve? They’re all heroes. You should listen to them.”“We heard,” one woman says. “But-”“Loki and Mr. Barton didn’t have this!” Harry shouts as Dad carries him out of the room, handing him over to Sirius. “Sirius’s trial wasn’t even until bedtime! Why is this one so many days?! It’s more than final exams!”Harry’s mad, but then he starts to smile as Sirius carries him away. Surely they’ll realize how dumb they’re being, thinking Dad’s bad and taking forever to realize they’re wrong. Besides, Harry disappeared and appeared just like Loki, without Loki’s boring book and class.Dad’s trial still isn’t over for real by dinner time, and Harry frowns at his plate. Mr. Stark looks at Steve in disbelief. “And you say I’m a bad influence? You’re the one who got thrown out of a courtroom before Harry copied you. Don’t be like Steve, Harry. I’m a way better role model.”Steve frowns. “Didn’t you hack their systems during your trial?”“Yeah, to show evidence.” Mr. Stark folds his arms. “And you weren’t even awake then, Sleeping Beauty.”Mr. Stark turns to Harry and James. “You guys broke the internet, by the way. I bet there’s going to be a sitcom about a dysfunctional superhero team raising a sassy magical pipsqueak. Jarvis, get a legal team to ensure we get first crack at making it.”“Should this take priority over Sergeant Barnes’ trial, sir?” “Hire another legal department if you have to.” “You should hire another so this trial ends faster.” Harry looks at Loki. “Can you fix the internet?”“Pardon me, but I believe that would be my area of expertise,” Jarvis says. The telly still works and people are still talking about the trial.“The trial of Sergeant James Barnes’ involvement with HYDRA revealed more than just Barnes’ past. In an unexpected turn of events, Harry Potter, the young savior of the British Wizarding World, appeared in Barnes’ lap to declare Barnes ‘a hero, better than Batman’. When exactly young Harry was sent to live among other heroes is unclear.”“They say I shouldn’t be a superhero.” Harry tells the telly. The lady on the screen keeps talking, so it’s probably not a video call.“Wonder what the Daily Prophet is saying.” Sirius says.Everyone on the telly starts wondering how Harry started calling the Winter Soldier his dad. “Surely he knows about his real parents?” one woman asks.“I know Dad's a good guy,” Harry tells the telly crossly. The lady doesn't reply, but Harry adds "I have a photo book of my mummy and first dad."Harry gets to sit in Dad’s lap when Dad tells how HYDRA sent him to bring them Harry, but they ran away instead. Harry helpfully holds up the book of their adventure with the pictures Steve drew.Harry throws his book down when the telly shows Dumbledore in the courtroom. Harry tries to shield Dad as he jabs a finger at Dumbledore. “He freezed Dad and tried to steal his brain! He’s HYDRA!”“I can see why you’d think that. I thought your father was a dangerous killer.”“He is.” someone shouts.“It’s clear now that the Soldier’s mission was to protect Harry.” Dumbledore looks at the camera like he’s looking right into Harry. “Harry, James, I apologize for any distress I caused. I thought I was saving you but the Soldier already had.”Mr. Murdock asks Dumbledore a bunch of questions about what happened and what Dad and Harry acted like at Hogwarts.Mr. Murdock and even Dumbledore make Dad sound like the good guy he is.Harry folds his arms and stares at Dumbledore. “You’re not only a dumb doorbell. Promise you’ll never freeze Dad or take his brain ever again.”“You have my word.” Dumbledore tells them both through the telly. “We aren’t obliviating muggles anymore.”Suddenly tons of people in the courtroom start shouting. The judge bangs her little hammer but nobody listens. Harry wonders if Thor will fly over to bang Mjolnir.“Great idea, mentioning obliviating most of the world’s population in a trial where the accused had his memories erased.” Mr. Stark rolls his eyes at the telly.The trial ends for the rest of the day, and there are even more protests after that, with screaming crowds waving signs and chanting. A lot of them wear black, with silver tape covering one sleeve to look like Dad. Other people ask why the Soldier changed his mission to protect Harry but still killed everyone else. One angry guy yells. “He did the right thing for once, and we’re supposed to forgive every other atrocity?”Dad frowns like he’s in huge trouble, and Harry hugs him as tight as he can. “Even Dumbledore knows you’re good now. He’s not as dumb as the telly people.”Some people won’t admit Dad’s good, no matter what. It makes Harry so angry that he screams at the people on the screen, even if it’s not a video call. He wants to hit the telly like Dudley did, but stops himself right before.Dad sends him to time-out anyway. He’s been sending Harry away all the time during this dumb trial.“I’m afraid some will refuse to see your father as a good person, no matter how much evidence Mr. Murdock presents proving HYDRA’s control.” “They’re so dumb!” Harry yells, flopping on the floor. That’s probably going to make this time-out even longer, but he doesn’t care.“They’re allowing their hatred to close their mind to other perspectives,” Jarvis agrees. Harry’s not entirely sure what that means, but Jarvis sounds like he’s agreeing. By the time Steve’s birthday comes around, Harry’s sure they’re going to be showing memories and asking people questions forever. Mr. Stark says it’s almost closing.“You’ve witnessed firsthand the tortures James Barnes endured during his imprisonment with HYDRA. You’ve heard of the conditioning required to turn him into the Winter Soldier. You’ve heard of lives ended and changed at the Winter Soldier’s hands, including President John Fitzgerald Kennedy. You’ve seen him with Harry Potter, a child he was sent to kidnap, and how he started to defect from HYDRA. The question is, does the torture absolve him of guilt for the crimes he committed?”Harry squirms impatiently. Nobody says anything. Nobody says he’s not guilty.Dad stands up and beckons Harry to the kitchen. He gets out flour, eggs, milk and other things.“We’re baking a cake.” he tells Harry. He’s not so shaky now that he’s doing something, his breathing sounds a bit better too.“A Not Guilty cake?” Harry asks. “We didn’t quit!”Dad shakes his head. “For Steve’s birthday.”“But you need a Not Guilty cake.” Harry argues. It’s like when they made cake for everyone when they were fighting all the aliens. This whole trial was even bigger than that. They’ll need lots of cakes.Harry helps Dad pour and mix, and taste the frosting. “Make sure to make it red, white and blue,” Mr. Stark says. Dad gives him a good, long stare.They still haven’t decided when Dad puts the cakes in the ovens with his metal hand. Or when the cakes are all done baking.Harry rushes around impatiently. “Hurry up!” he shouts at the telly. “We have cake!”They can’t eat the cake until the people say Dad is Not Guilty, that he’s not going to jail.Waiting for what Steve calls the verdict almost seems as long as the whole trial did. And then, finally, they come back and say that Dad’s not guilty of what HYDRA made him do, that it’s all HYDRA’s fault.“That took ages, ” Harry shouts, but he can’t even be mad. He flings himself at Dad, who scoops him up in his arms. Steve throws his arms around them, too, then freezes until Dad puts an arm around Steve’s shoulders, still holding Harry tight.Mr. Stark goes over to the bar. “Glad we can crack out the celebratory drinks, instead of the ones for condolences.” Thor is eager to celebrate, and Loki pops away to grab Mr. Murdock and Mr. Nelson. “I’m going to be a lawyer when I grow up.” Harry tells them when they pop back. “But my trials are going to be a lot faster. Only it’s not your fault, they were just so slow.”Mr. Foggy snorts.“We need to eat cake! Should we sing Happy Birthday?” Harry asks. Steve laughs. “I don’t even care that it’s my birthday. I got what I wanted.”Steve grabs a tube of icing and writes something Harry can’t read. Dad says it says Not Guilty. Dad cuts the cake, his shoulders looser, and tells Harry he can wish for anything on his fifth birthday. As they eat cake, Mr. Stark raises his glass. “Hey, it’s Independence Day, and you got your independence.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Despite the verdict of the trial and the celebration and cake in the tower, James struggles to wrap his head around the fact that he’s free. The inner voice has never struggled with facts. It reminds him of the verdict. NOT GUILTY. James knows he won’t be free of guilt, regardless of what the court says. He’ll still see his hands strangling, stabbing and shooting in his nightmares. He still remembers the pleas, screams and choked gasps of dying breaths. The blood that stained his hands red. It was Hydra, Bucky argues what Stark and Steve had during their testimonies, but Bucky’s voice seems to be reminding itself as well. Crushing guilt is practically a requirement for living with the team. Stark is haunted by all the lives his weapons took, despite not being the one to pull the trigger; his insistence that Hydra pulled the Soldier’s trigger is a hypocrisy that Stark waves aside almost unconsciously. Barton had brooded with James during the nights at his house, but had pushed it aside during the daytime to set up fake Olympic Games for his children and Harry. Romanoff has been working to balance the red in her ledger. Both agents now need to cope with the fact that they were unknowingly working alongside HYDRA. James wonders if that’s easier to live with than being Hydra’s puppet. Romanoff herself arrives as James ruminates; Harry asks when the Bartons will join the party. James doubts Barton will join any party Loki’s a part of, much less let his children within any sort of proximity. Nelson eyes James and says “Usually people are happier when they win. I mean, that evidence was terrible to see, much less live through. So, that’s probably why you never smile. Sorry, man.” Nelson stops, looking awkward. “Thank you for taking the case,” Steve tells Nelson and Murdock for at least the twentieth time since they’d first met. Nelson snorts. “We should be thanking you. I think Stark just paid for our firm for the next two years.” Murdock raises his bottle of scotch at Stark. James nods his thanks to his lawyers, but he really doesn’t feel like partying. He can’t remember a time he’s ever felt like partying, but especially now, he feels more exhausted than elated. Harry, of course, is buzzing around, cheering and toasting his apple juice to the others’ scotch, vodka and mead. James clutches his own glass, but does not drink. “Now you’re both not guilty.” Harry beams at him and Black. “Sirius was innocent,” Stark points out, though James knows Black still blames himself for suggesting Pettigrew as the Secret Keeper. Black himself frowns, though he’d been toasting moments before. Harry switches on the television, likely hoping to hear the good news reported again, but a middle-aged man in a suit is fuming about how he got off. “He got off!” Harry shouts at the TV triumphantly, almost mockingly. It turns into its own song. “He got off! He got off! He got off!” Harry’s excitement doesn’t last long. He nods off ten minutes later, and James lifts him up to carry to bed. Harry needs sleep after the stress of the trial. “Pretty soon there’ll be fireworks with this party,” Romanoff nods towards the window. The tension immediately to James’ shoulders, his spine straightening. Stark winces. “Right, For Spangles’ birthday… I’m guessing nobody here is a fan.” “Of me?” Steve’s mouth quirks, and Bucky’s voice immediately protests the notion with a vehemence that does not surprise James. Pal, I was your number one fan before the rest of the world got a clue. James recalls some conversations between Stark and the students, and Bucky groans in his head. Stark would call me a hipster if he could hear me. Steve quickly grows more serious. “We should relocate.” Black is in favor of relocating, citing that everyone knows Harry’s location at the tower. “I would’ve expected the Death Eaters to come knocking by now. Not all of them are in Azkaban. Malfoy, for one.” “Is he mouthy?” Stark asks, and Steve mutters that Stark is mouthy. Romanoff rolls her eyes, exasperated by the men surrounding her. HARRY’S SAFETY IS COMPROMISED, blares his inner voice. What else is new, James wonders wearily. Pretty much everything in this century, Bucky jokes. Have you not been paying attention? Everyone knows about magic. Loki holds out his arm, but nobody grabs hold just yet. “We don’t even know where you’re taking us.” Stark points out. Loki grins mysteriously. “To battle!” Thor bellows. He drank heavily during the party, yet shows no sign of inebriation. James and Steve, similarly, cannot become intoxicated, though Thor had promised Steve inebriation via Asgardian mead. “The Death Eaters such as Malfoy must be defeated.” Black growls, low in his throat, much like Snuffles. “He claimed he was under the Imperius. He got off, too.” “Well, this is awkward, given we’re celebrating justice.” Stark says, swirling his scotch in his glass. “Then again, they sure took their time giving you any.” “Don’t remind me.” Black grumbles. Romanoff folds her arms across her chest. “Let’s relocate now, argue later.” Loki teleports them back to Xavier’s Institute. Logan greets them with a bottle of beer in his fist, which he raises to James in a toast before glancing at Harry’s head resting on James’ shoulder. “Saw he made a spectacle of himself,” Logan grunts. “You hidin’ out here again?” James carries Harry to bed. He clearly needs his rest after the stress of the trial. James knows he requires it too; he’d slept even worse than usual recently. The times he had managed to sleep, he dreamed of being imprisoned by authorities rife with HYDRA and of faceless agents hauling him towards the Chair and cryogenic tank. Logically, James knows that Stark, Steve and the others would hunt for him if he disappeared, even while imprisoned, but it would be too late. Professor X nullifying the command words wouldn’t help with the Chair. Sighing, resigned to dreams of violence and torture, James lays beside Harry on the oversized, over-soft bed. His sleep is shockingly peaceful, so much so that he suspects Professor X or Loki had smoothed his sleep over, casting some sort of spell to make his rest truly restful and dreamless. James glances at the digital clock. 0918. He’d slept for 13.5 hours, and is now certain someone had influenced his sleep. He cannot recall ever sleeping even half as long out of cryofreeze. James half wishes the Professor would do this every night, but knowing someone would be messing with his mind nightly is almost worse than the horrors his subconscious subjects him to. He trusts the Professor enough to let him help with the trigger words, but that was a necessity to ensure Harry and everyone else’s safety. Harry is still asleep, shockingly, and James wonders if someone had deepened his sleep as well. James finds himself missing their hot chocolate and board game party at 0-dark-thirty. Don’t worry, Bucky says humorlessly. We’ll have plenty of nightmares later. James performs calisthenics as he waits for Harry to wake. Harry is understandably confused when he realizes they’re in the mansion rather than the tower, but follows James downstairs for breakfast. “Where is everyone?” “Still on summer vacation.” Stark answers. “Speaking of which, it’s summer vacation. Go do something fun. You’ve been on one shopping trip in almost a year. You’d think you were quarantining.” James stares at him, and Stark raises his palms in surrender. “I know, I know. Hiding from HYDRA and the law. But now HYDRA’s only sort of a problem. So let’s have some summer fun. We could go back to Malibu, do the whole beach thing.” “There’s no nursery preschool here.” Harry sighs, despite refusing to even consider going to the one in the tower. James doubts Harry will appreciate being separated now either, especially after spending hours on end apart during the trial. James doesn’t like the idea any more than Harry does, but he knows Harry needs to experience a normal childhood, which in these days means preschool. Stark is rambling something similar to James' thoughts. “I mean, this mansion is amazing, but isn’t it just another prison if you never leave? Wow, Beast’s philosophical jargon is rubbing off on me. Also, Pepper would kill me for mentioning prisons around you guys. By the way, Moody dropped by and left Harry a present.” James blinks at the non-sequitur as Stark points to a parcel wrapped in a manner that sends flashes of memories through his brain. Harry struggles to untie the string, then eagerly unwraps it. A silvery, shimmering fabric slides off the table like a waterfall. James reaches out; it feels like water woven into fabric. Black has gone extremely still, staring at it like he’s seen a ghost, a ghost he’s desperately wanted to see. “That was your father’s. Your other father’s.” he croaks as Harry pulls the fabric with a grin. “A fort fort!” “It’s a cloak.” Sirius explains. “An invisibility cloak.” Harry looks at him, uncomprehending, and Sirius explains that means people won’t see him if he wears it. Harry crawls under the silvery fabric, which disappears. James twitches at the illusion of Harry vanishing, but he hears Harry laugh. “I can see more out of this one! Loki, can you make it big?” “No!” Black objects, reaching out for the cloak. A note falls to the floor, and James picks it up. The writing is narrow and loopy, and James reads aloud. “Your first father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. Happy early birthday. I’m sorry.” Harry pops out from under the cloak, confused. “Sorry? Is someone going to take it away?” “It’s from Dumbledore.” Black says. “He means sorry for trying to take his memories.” Loki enters the kitchen as if he owns it. “I have a magic trick!” Harry tells him, ducking back under the cloak. Thor applauds, each clap like thunder. Loki is entirely unimpressed, turning toward Black to scoff “You mortals require cloaks to make yourselves invisible?” Black opens his mouth to protest, but Thor elbows Loki in the ribs, frowning. “Remember how you said Father did not appreciate your magic tricks? I would expect you to show more enthusiasm over young Harry’s tricks.” Loki claps with surprising sincerity, given his prior statement. James hears Harry creep forward, stealthily enough that Stark doesn’t notice until there’s a loud crash. “Ow.” Harry grumbles, evidently having tripped over the long fabric. One of his legs becomes visible, appearing dismembered. The sight makes James’ stomach turn, though there is no blood. For years, blood didn’t faze him either. Harry bounces up before James can reach for him. “Let’s play Hide-and-go-seek. Not it!” Harry scampers off with the cloak, once again visible, billowing behind him. His voice drifts from the hallway. “Logan, you won’t find me!” “I can still smell you, kid.” Logan huffs, and James realizes Harry skipped his bath. A second of silence passes before Harry says “Jarvis can’t find me!” Harry calls out to nobody in particular “You have to count!” “If I find you, I get to scan the cloak!” Stark hollers back. Black folds his arms. “It’s not yours.” “It won’t hurt it.” Stark replies carelessly. “And haven’t you heard of borrowing stuff? Clearly Gandalf borrowed it.” “James wouldn’t want-” Black stops when Stark leaves the room in search of Harry. Black and James stalk out simultaneously, though Logan does not follow. James' skill at tracking is unnecessary. Harry may have been stealthy at Number Four, Privet Drive, but he’s terrible at climbing stairs in the cloak. James hears him trip five times, though he gets back up each time. “You know,” Stark turns to James, acting like they’re simply strolling that way, unaware of Harry’s presence, “You could use that to avoid stares in public and go to Coney Island or somewhere. I know Harry and Steve want to go. Or I could just buy out the park for a day so you don’t have to hide. I’ll even pay them extra to say it’s for maintenance, and nobody will know you’re there. Except the workers. Do you think HYDRA hires carnies?” Anyone could be HYDRA, Bucky fumes. Even though they’d revealed several prominent leaders and members to the world, such as Pierce and Rumlow, they’re far from exterminating the whole organization. CUT OFF ONE HEAD, TWO MORE SHALL TAKE ITS PLACE, the inner voice says reflexively. James hears Harry stumble again. He reaches out, snags the cloak, and scoops Harry into his arms. Hiding them both under the cloak, James sets off at a fast pace, and Stark calls out “Traitor! I can barely keep track of you when I can see you!” Harry snickers, snuggling into James’ arms. James secures a location on the roof with optimal visibility. The cloak billows around them as they stand, looking over the Institute grounds like Batman watching over Gotham. James checks Harry over, frowning when he sees bruised knees and a skinned elbow. “We’ll have to get McCoy or Banner to look at those,” he murmurs. They’re the only ones he’ll trust anywhere near his son. “But they can’t see us.” Harry replies. “When we’re done.” James says. Harry shrieks “They’ll never find us!” and covers his mouth guiltily. James wishes they could be that confident about remaining hidden from the Death Eaters or HYDRA, but he knows they’ll be found. This time, at least, they’ll be found by family. It takes Stark 24.9 minutes to locate them, though James is sure at least a third of that time was spent arguing with Loki about invisibility. “So, after I scan this thing, what do you say we hit up Coney Island tomorrow?” Harry cheers, and the Bucky voice mirrors his enthusiasm. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “You know, now that you’re free, you really need to get out more than three times a year.” Tony says.Steve looks up from his sketchbook to frown at Tony, as if he’s implying James is just a hermit rather than a feared assassin who was practically a myth.Neither Harry nor James have complained about barely leaving Tony’s mansions or Xavier’s Institute for nearly a year, but it’s not like either of them had much to compare it to. James’ experience with the outside world consisted of being used as a weapon, and Harry’s consisted of running from HYDRA with James.Tony’s determined to give them some better excursions. So far, their trips to Shawarma restaurants, Central Park and the mall have gone well; they even avoided Magneto’s attack.Hopefully nobody decides to rampage Coney Island today.Steve turns to James. “Remember when you blew our train money trying to win that stuffed bear?”“Money’s no issue now,” Tony reminds them. “Play all the rigged games you want.”“Do they have Quidditch?” Harry asks eagerly. “Probably not, but they might have some magic stuff now.” Tony shoves his hands in his pockets. “I mean, they already had fortune tellers, which are ridiculous, but then again some people buy that crap even today. I’d imagine that back in your day-”Steve folds his arms, unimpressed, though Tony really couldn’t care less. If they get to Coney Island and find it overrun by fortune tellers, he’s getting Jarvis to send a suit and hightailing it out of there.Steve’s busy sketching a roller coaster, and James suddenly shares that Bucky made Steve ride the Cyclone before he was enhanced.“I probably won’t throw up this time.” Steve rubs the back of his neck. He seems enormously pleased that James remembers this, though saddened when he goes on. “Jarvis said Luna Park was destroyed in a fire in 1944. I was a bit busy fighting Nazis to get that news.” “Coney Island built a new Luna Park in 2010, but it has no connection to the original, which was demolished two years after the fire.” Jarvis says from Tony’s phone. “The Cyclone and the Wonder Wheel were both made city landmarks in the late 1980s, and the Cyclone was made a national historic landmark in 1991.” “Yep, that’s totally the most important thing that happened in 1991.” Tony ignores the way James goes taut. “Well, that and me getting shitfaced a bunch.” Of course, Harry repeats the word. Tony may have used it on purpose for that reason. He plasters on a smile and asks “Speaking of landmarks, who wants to set bets on when they’ll stick Cap’s face on Mount Rushmore?”“I’m not a president.” Steve feigns exasperation, though he knows why that year isn’t the best thing to hear and is clearly trying to keep both James and Tony in the present.Jarvis projects a holographic image of Mount Rushmore from Tony’s phone for the unaware members of the group. Loki gets a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “This Mount Rushmore shows your most important historical leaders?”“We’re going there?” Harry’s disappointment is almost palpable. He gives the photo a long, morose look that morphs into concern. “They got turned to stone? You want Steve to be stone? What if they get the Queen?”“They aren’t frozen in carbonite.” Tony mutters, receiving several blank looks. Shit, maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned being frozen alive around Steve or James. Usually he wouldn’t mind needling people or pressing their buttons, but-Tony’s drawn from his thoughts as Steve puts his final touches on his sketch of the Cyclone, then flips the page and shows them all a blank page instead. “It’s you, in your invisibility cloak,” he tells Harry with a troll grin.“I can draw it better!” Harry protests, running to fetch a piece of paper. He pretends to scribble all over it and waves the paper with pride. “See! I did it better! You didn’t even draw on yours.”Steve suddenly turns to Tony. “Have people still been working on Invisible Ink?”Jarvis informs them that, during the Cold War, the KGB developed a dry-transfer method involving sandwiching a chemically infused sheet of paper between two ordinary sheets. “The secret message from the top sheet was transferred through the chemicals to the bottom, and the original was destroyed.” “That’s kind of outdated now,” Tony claps Steve on the shoulder, starting to bring him up to speed on encryption.Harry plays a roller coaster game by flying his motorbroom slowly up the stairs before speeding down. Steve says he should fly outside, and Tony scoffs. “There are literally teens running through the walls and shooting ice everywhere for most of the year. Why shouldn’t he fly inside?”Harry pauses to ask if they’re taking the train.Loki, of course, scoffs at the idea. “Know that I’m only taking you to-”“To visit this island of entertainment and revelry!” Thor booms, almost as excited as Harry.“You booked it out for us, didn’t you?” Steve asks, half disapproving and half relieved to avoid crowds of prying eyes and paparazzi.“Yeah, but I’m bringing the party with me.” Tony grins, grabbing Loki’s arm. “Beam us up, Scotty.”Loki teleports them there, then vanishes, clearly feeling he has better things to do. Thor’s shoulders slump somewhat dejectedly, but he smiles when Harry cheers.”I can see the sea!” Harry points unnecessarily. “Like your house!””That’s the Atlantic. My Malibu mansion is near the Pacific.”Harry’s not even listening, gazing around.Steve eyes the high-rise apartments before looking up at the wooden coaster. Coney Island isn’t exactly bustling, considering they’re the only visitors, but James’ eyes scan, constantly assessing for threats.Harry shows no such concern. He pulls eagerly on James’ hand. “Let’s ride the Cyclone and see if Steve throws up!”“I said I could handle it now.” Steve reminds him.“Hate to tell you this, Oliver, but you’re not big enough to ride. You need to be fifty-four inches tall.”“I’m almost five.” Harry replies obliviously. Even after seeing the height requirement marker over his head, he remains in denial.He jumps to shoot his hand above the bar.“That doesn’t count.” the employee says, clearly wondering if they’ll be sued for upsetting the heroes’ kid.“Loki could make me big.” Harry says, and Sirius looks rather offended that Harry hadn’t even bothered to consider him.James grimaces. “You’re growing so fast already.”Harry clearly disagrees, gazing longingly up at the coaster. “Will I be big enough when I’m five?”“Fifty-four inches falls into the average range of height for eight-year-old boys, though I must say you are rather short for your age, Master Harry.” Harry pouts for a moment before calling out “Here, broom! Come here!”Tony’s seen Harry’s broom rush to him like an excited puppy, but there’s no way he can call it from Coney Island. Sure enough, nothing happens.Harry turns to Sirius, begging his godfather to turn him into a dragon so he can race the Cyclone. “Being an animagus isn’t that simple.” Sirius tells him. “Your dad and I didn’t figure it out until we were fifteen.”“My first dad? What about the rat guy?” Harry doesn’t even pause for answers. “When will I be fifteen?”“A bit over ten years.” Sirius tells him.Harry sulks.“Fear not, young Harry!” Thor exclaims. “You may fly with me, and we will soar faster than this Cyclone.”“Really?” Harry glances at James, who nods once. Harry cheers. “I bet we’re going to win!”“Going to make me ride it again?” Steve flashes a grin at James, already heading towards the loading area.“Try not to puke on me, punk.” James deadpans, likely giving voice to some buried bit of Bucky.There are no lines, and Tony briefly wonders how patient Harry would be if they needed to wait. Certainly not as patient as he’d been when they first met. Tony hardly recognizes him from that unnaturally obedient and quiet kid who’d been beaten down by the world.Harry might now be more spoiled than his cousin was, but that’s to be expected, living with Tony. If there had been lines, Tony would have bribed their way to the front or just pulled the Iron Man card. Figuratively of course, though maybe he should make some.Tony climbs into the coaster car behind Steve and James, and Sirius slides in next to Tony. Sirius has never ridden a coaster before, but voices the opinion that it won’t be as nauseating as learning to apparate, and adds it’s probably not as exciting as flying a broomstick.Thor holds Harry with one arm, spins Mjolnir with the other, and shoots up to the top of the first crest, far faster than the coaster. Harry shouts delightedly and watches the coaster car’s slow ascent with undisguised triumph. Tony regrets not taking his suit. An 80 foot hill really doesn’t feel all that high to Tony, and a 55 degree drop is nothing next to what he’s done in his Iron Man suit. Even other coasters have it beat, but Steve’s grinning at James like they’re back in the 1900s.James reaches out to bump Harry’s fist.Then they’re plummeting down, swerving around turns, and it almost feels as if the cars will go airborne.Harry’s shrieks are still audible over the wooden clatter and the roar of the wind. Tony starts thinking about the logistics of a flying coaster, though flight would make a track rather unnecessary. After roughly two minutes, they’re pulling back into the station. “Let’s do it again!” Harry laughs, breathless, his face flushed.“I can do this all day.” Steve grins, gesturing to show he hadn’t lost his lunch. Not that they’ve had lunch, yet.They ride the Cyclone three more times, racing Thor and Harry around the wooden tracks, before Harry starts asking about games.On the walk over, Steve reminisces about tossing hoops, knocking down cans and firing fake rifles. Some such games remain, to Steve’s delight, but the rifles have been replaced with water guns. James, of course, completely dominates that game, while Harry fails miserably, eyes already on the basketball booth.James is presented with a giant plush Pikachu. He eyes it, along with the other hanging Pokémon, and asks “Are these magical creatures?”Sirius clearly has no idea about Pokémon, either, and Tony’s knowledge stops at Pikachu. The booth worker, a teenager whose name tag reads Sarika, is apparently a fan and tells them the fire lizard one is called Charmander.“Want to catch them all?” Sarika grins at the reference. Okay, Tony knows that, too. Harry, however, drags them over to the basketball game. He does reasonably well throwing the balls in the hoops, a few of which his accidental magic helps out with. Tony sees a row of Avengers games, with huge, huggable Hulks as prizes. Tony decides immediately that they need to win one for Bruce, even though he stayed home despite the lack of crowds. He could have just sat out of the coaster if it was too exciting, but he’s no fun outside of the lab.There’s an archery range with a flashy banner reading Hit the Target like Hawkeye! The target is designed like one of the Chitauri speeder bikes, and Steve asks if they should really be turning a recent disaster into a game. As long as nobody’s made a game of firing a missile through a portal, Tony’s not too concerned. Besides, kids get a kick out of pretending to be their heroes.“Why isn’t Mr. Barton here?” Harry asks. “And Cooper and Lila?”“We can invite them soon.” Tony promises. “This would be a good spot for a Harry’s Hope event. You know, rent out Luna Park for kids who’ve been hurt.”Thor has discovered a whack-a-mole game featuring a fake Mjolnir. He hoists it with a hearty laugh, though he takes care not to smash the machine apart when smashing the fake aliens popping out of the holes. Iron Man and Cap pop out of two of the holes as well, clearly designed to dock points if hit.The booth attendant- a man named Dale- watches, clearly starstruck. “Where’s my game?” Tony grouses, crossing his arms. “I’ve been a relevant hero here on Earth since 2008. Sure, Spangles and Point Break are practically archeological artifacts, but-”Harry interrupts with “None of these games are magic.” He hefts the fake hammer, which is still huge for his tiny hands. Dale points. “Magic games are that way.” Clearly on cue, someone starts yelling “Step right up! Want to be a witch or wizard? Cast a spell and win a prize!” Magic games turn out to be trick wands. One spell- Flipendo- is apparently made up. Sirius claims he’s never heard of it, anyway.Much like the shooting game, the flipendo spell simply knocks targets backwards. Hardly the most exciting spell, to be sure, but Harry doesn’t seem to mind.He does mind that he’s missing the targets. He gets what’s clearly a consolation prize, that Tony’s sure he wouldn’t have won if he weren’t a famous child surrounded by heroes.Harry waves the wand at Steve, experimentally, but Steve doesn’t budge. Harry, however, clearly had other ideas. “I wanted to turn you into a bald eagle.”Steve turns to Tony to level him with an accusing look, and Sirius says “I don’t think you’d be a Ravenclaw.”Tony snorts. Ravenclaw’s symbol is an eagle? Why not a raven?Sirius shrugs. “Then again, animagi forms don’t match houses. There isn’t a dog house.”“Lucky had a dog house,” Harry argues. “but he lived in the Bartons’ house anyway.”Sirius transforms one of the prize animals into a large, shaggy dog. Tony smirks. “Going to cuddle up with that at night?”“I’m going to give it to Cooper.” Harry decides. For a kid who’d been denied toys most of his life, he’s surprisingly not very clingy over the ones he’s winning today.“Do they win big toy animals at the Olympic Games?” Harry asks.“No, they win medals. Gold for first place, silver for second and bronze for third.”Harry eyes the plush prizes. “Why don’t we get medals?” “I could transfigure them.” Sirius offers, but Harry shakes his head.Other magic games are clearly rigged. The attendants hand Harry more fake wands, telling him to change the color of a large, animated dragon decoration, or turn it into an elephant.Tony’s sure that there’s another witch or wizard hiding in the booth, who’s secretly casting the spells but letting the player think they’re doing it. Sirius, on the other hand, needs no such treatment.The dragon turns red and gold when Tony gives the wand a cursory flick. Another flick, and it breathes fake repulsor blasts like fireballs. “I guess I’ll need to give Coney Island some credit when I make an Iron Dragon suit.” Tony pauses and amends. “Or a bot.”He tries to imagine a dragon roaming around with Dum-E and U. It’s not that hard to imagine; Harry wins a stuffed dragon that wraps around him.Tony wonders if any parents are going to freak out about stuffed animals trying to squeeze their children to death. He’s sure shit’s going to hit the fan eventually; news of magicals attacking mundane people and vise-versa has been prevalent ever since the reveal of magic to the world. Same goes for mutants and non-mutants, as evidenced by Magneto. Such reports were on the back burner during James’ trial.Sure, there’s acceptance, like here, but there’s a ton of fear and mistrust on all sides. Apparently, not even an alien invasion can actually unite Earth’s inhabitants, though it further united Earth’s heroes. Thor finds a booth where the player makes objects disappear. He waves the fake wands with gusto, and one of the prize animals vanishes along with the targets. Whoever’s really casting the spell is clearly not as starstruck as some other workers here.“I see why Loki enjoys seidr so much.” Thor laughs as he hauls around their ever-growing collection of giant plush toys, though he soon looks more burdened by guilt than toys. From what Tony’s heard, Loki had been teased for his magic and his preference for brains over brawn for much of his childhood. Loki’s still clearly bitter about it, but seems slightly less so after hearing of Harry’s plight.Even if Loki were here instead of doing who knows what, he’d probably make Thor carry around the mountain of animals rather than conveniently sending them back to the mansion. Steve, Thor and James clear out three hotdog stands, and Tony grimaces. “It’s like watching those hot dog eating contests.”Jarvis suddenly speaks from Tony’s phone. “Excuse me sir, but you might have a bit of a Public Relations Disaster on your hands.” “Well at least nobody’s attacking us.” Tony mutters, glancing at his phone. It’s news footage of Mount Rushmore, but instead of Washington, Lincoln, Jefferson and Roosevelt, four giant stone Loki heads grin and make faces at the camera.Pepper will handle it. Today’s Tony’s day off.Tony shoves his phone back in his pocket and addresses the group. “So, who bets we can make Cap barf on the Cyclone after that nauseating amount of hot dogs?” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Harry never wants today to end. It’s like it’s his birthday. This is even better than what Dudley got to do on his birthdays. Dudley never won a dragon. Sirius says Harry’s dragon is a toy, so they won’t have to worry about feeding it or if it has a wee in the house. And it won’t burn the house down, because it breathes fake fire.“He looks real,” Harry hugs the dragon, and it wraps around him in a hug. None of the other cuddly toys they’ve won seem real; they don’t even move.Harry yells “This is the best birthday ever!”“It’s not your birthday, it’s Steve’s. Or, it was.” Mr. Stark tells him. Harry doesn’t even have time to say he knows that before Mr. Stark promises. “But your birthday will be even better. I guarantee it.”Then Mr. Stark goes back to telling Dad how he’d build the coasters and other rides to be bigger, better and faster.“Are you making me a coaster for my birthday?” Harry asks. “One I can ride?”Before Mr. Stark can answer, Jarvis’ voice comes from the phone in his pocket. “Sir, you have another call. ”“It can wait.” Mr. Stark replies.“Sir, I must insist. ”Mr. Stark sighs and pulls his phone from his pocket. He doesn’t put the speaker on, but Harry can hear Fury the pirate on the other end. “I want to know why you’re at a goddamn fun fair when Loki’s out wreaking havoc.”“Geez, I thought Steve would be the one on my case about Loki desecrating national landmarks.” Mr. Stark rolls his eyes. Steve glances over, and Stark waves a hand. “It’s nothing, Cap.”Steve lifts his eyebrows.“My brother is up to mischief.” Thor says knowingly.Steve frowns in disapproval. “You said he’d be on his best behavior.” Mr. Stark seems to just be making Fury angrier, but he just grins wider as Fury’s voice gets louder.Thor shouts toward the phone. “I will put a stop to my brother's antics!” He sets down the pile of cuddly toys, spins his hammer and rockets into the sky.“There, Thor’s on the case.” Mr. Stark hangs up and smirks. “Does he even know where he’s going?”Harry’s sad to see Thor go. Now how will he race the coasters? He looks at his new dragon. “Can you fly?”The dragon spreads its wings, but when Harry tries to sit on it, it can’t lift him up.Harry misses Thor even more. Even when they’re just walking, Thor’s really fun; he’s cheerful, smiling bright like the sun even though he controls lightning like Storm.Dad says it’s time for them to go, too.“I don’t want to go.” Harry says, but Dad’s face doesn’t change. Harry can’t order him around anymore. So he tries begging. “Just one more game? Please?” Mr. Stark snorts. “We all know you’ll keep asking for one more game until it turns into ten more. Besides, we’ll have our arms full with this zoo.”“But there’s a fishing game!” Harry says. It looks nothing like Go Fish, but maybe he can use magic to pull the fish out and win a grinning cuddly shark.“You can play it next time.” Mr. Stark says.“Tomorrow?” Harry asks.Mr. Stark laughs. “Maybe not that soon.”“Will you make me one?”“You could make that with a stick and some string.” Mr. Stark scoffs.Loki doesn’t pick them up, but Sirius apparates them back to the X-Homeschool in turns. Harry feels a bit ill after. Steve looks like he might throw up a bit, but he doesn’t.Loki’s already there, grinning at the telly. The boring rock faces are now all Loki faces, grinning and making faces. Then it shows a huge Loki statue with his arms spread wide.“You’re not turned to stone.” Harry’s relieved, but confused about where the stone Lokis came from.Steve frowns at the picture on the telly, then begins to tell Loki off for ruining landmarks.Loki doesn’t look sorry at all. “I made them better.”“You can’t replace Christ the Redeemer.” Steve scowls. “You may call yourself a god, but that statue-”Mr. Stark interrupts. “I’m surprised you’re not focused on Mount Rushmore, being Captain America and all.” “I’m helping your friend.” Loki sweeps his hand at Dad. “They won’t have time to debate his innocence if they’re debating mine.”Sure enough, the guy on the telly is going on and on about how Loki’s probably still trying to take over the world, and how the Avengers didn’t stop him this time.“Stop watching this shit.” Mr. Stark says. Harry loves saying that word.Mr. Stark tells Jarvis to shut off the telly before remembering Jarvis doesn’t control stuff at the X-Homeschool. Harry grabs the huge Hulk toy and asks where Doctor Banner is. Jarvis can’t say where to find people in the school, so Harry has to go looking for him.The school feels empty without the big kids. Even when they’re all in class, he can peek in and see them, even if what they’re talking about is dull.Harry lugs the Hulk toy around until he finds Doctor Banner in the lab with Beast.Harry knocks, because Dad says dangerous stuff happens in labs and he doesn’t want Harry getting hurt. The doctors don’t blow stuff up as much as Mr. Stark does, though.Doctor Banner smiles at him, though his smile changes when Harry shows them the Hulk toy. Harry glances at Beast, knowing how it feels to not get gifts. “Sorry, I didn’t see a Beast one, even though you’re all fuzzy like a teddy.” Harry runs back to grab a different cuddly toy for Beast, and hears Steve telling Loki off again. “You blatantly disrespected our God.”“Nobody’s my god.” Mr. Stark says. Steve glares but doesn’t answer him, too busy with Loki. “Promise me you’ll fix it.” “So naive.” Loki chuckles. “You’d trust a promise from the God of Lies?”“We could get Logan to carve a new one.” Mr. Stark suggests, grinning wide like this fight is fun.Harry drags the other dragon, the Charmander thing, by its fire tail and puts it in Jubilee’s room. When he goes back down to get something for Kitty, he hears Steve still going “I’m not saying the presidents were gods, but you aren’t more important than they are!”Forgetting Kitty’s gift, Harry grabs the toy dog and stomps up the stairs. Dad and Sirius follow him up.“What’s wrong?” Sirius asks, then looks at Dad. “Was he always like this?”Does he mean Steve or Harry?Harry sits at the top of the stairs and hugs the toy. Today was such a fun day, and now they’re fighting. It’s not fun, even though Mr. Stark seems to think so. Steve’s probably going to kick Loki out, and Thor still isn’t back.Sirius turns into Snuffles, and Harry drops the toy to hug him instead. The toy dog tumbles down the stairs.“Steve’s just blowing some steam.” Dad sits next to Harry and puts his arm around him. Steve doesn’t kick Loki out, and Thor returns by dinner. As they eat, he tells them the story of flying to the rock faces and finding them exactly as they were before.Loki gives Steve a little joking bow, but Steve still looks mad.Harry likes his own story a lot more, and he tells it to the doctors and Professor. “Thor helped me beat the Cyclone and we played magic games to win toys. Only they win medals in the Olympics.”Harry turns to Loki, who looks like he’s planning trouble. “Are you going to prank the Olympics?”Steve frowns even harder at Loki.“Are you going to fight again?” Harry asks, frowning right back.“Surprised you didn’t punch him, punk.” Dad says to Steve, who forgets about Loki or eating for a bit and just looks at Dad.At least he’s not punching Loki.Some people on the telly are really scared of magic, like Harry used to be. One woman says she knows how it feels to be Dad and have her memories erased. “You have no idea how he feels!” Steve scolds the telly, seeming angrier than Dad, even though Dad’s the one who had his memories taken.Sometimes it seems like nobody gets along. Some mutants think they’re better than everyone else- Grandpa’fessor’s friend- who everyone calls Magneto except for Grandpa’fessor, who calls him Erik- is one of them. Grandpa’fessor says people hurt Erik.People hurt Dad, and Dad thinks he’s worse than others. Harry can’t figure out why, because he thinks Dad’s the best.Grandpa’fessor visits Erik in a plastic prison a lot, and he brings the wooden board and pieces from his office every time.Some wizards think they’re better than Muggles, and some even think Muggles should all die. Harry learns that when Sirius reads the paper.Harry wishes everyone would just get along. He used to fear all wizards and witches, back when he was a little kid. Now, he’s almost five, and he knows better.Grandpa’fessor thinks everyone should get along too, and says so on lots of telly interviews. For all the people who don’t get along, he says, there are people like their family; magic and mutants and people with no powers who are all just as important as each other.Magic is great. How else would people fly brooms or have moving toy dragons? Loki pulls a golden egg out of somewhere. Harry’s moving toy dragon decides to keep it, and won’t let anyone touch it. Maybe Harry should name this dragon Dudley. It acts like him.The dragon’s neck moves like a snake. It doesn’t listen when Harry tells it to give the egg back. Harry can’t talk with snakes or dragons. Sirius bets Harry can’t steal the egg from the dragon, so Harry bets he can.The dragon breathes fire at Harry when he gets near. It doesn’t hurt like real fire, it isn’t even hot, but Sirius says he has to try again.Harry tries throwing balls for it to chase, but the dragon doesn’t like playing fetch like Lucky and Snuffles do. It only likes its golden egg. It would probably play fetch with its egg, except it won’t let anyone throw it.After some thought, Harry gets his Invisibility Cloak from Sirius’s room, but trips before he can sneak next to the dragon.“Perhaps you should use your fists of Hulk to beat it away.” Thor tells him.Harry points to Dad. “He’s my fist.”Sirius says getting Dad to do it would be cheating.Harry climbs on his motorbroom and zooms at the dragon. It breathes fire, but he turns away from it. He goes round and round the dragon. It roars and then launches off after him.They play a game of chase, diving and soaring and turning like when Harry and Thor raced the Cyclone. Finally, Harry swoops down and steals the egg. Thor, Dad and Sirius all clap for him, and Harry beams.“I did it! I won an Olympic game!”“This isn’t in the Olympics.” Sirius tells him. “It seems like something that could be in the Triwizard Tournament.”“What’s that?”Sirius explains that the Triwizard Tournament is like the Olympics between three magical schools.“When I’m older, I’m going to race a dragon and win the Triwizard Tournament.”“The real Triwizard Tournament is a lot harder, a lot more dangerous.” Sirius’ voice changes from a warning to bitterness. “I thought you didn’t want to go to Hogwarts.”“I don’t. But I’ll win anyway.”“He just said it’s dangerous.” Dad says.Sirius shrugs. “So is Quidditch.”“So is living with me.” says Mr. Stark as he strolls by. “I’m always in danger.” Harry points out. He has been, ever since he was a baby.“It’s my job to keep you safe.” Dad sort of growls it like Logan would. “To minimize the dangers, if I can’t eliminate them.”“Good job! You get a promotion! A plus!” Harry cheers. Then he adds, “You can’t say I can’t play Quidditch, or you’ll get a D minus.”Harry’s not really sure why As are good and Ds are bad, but he’s heard enough from the big kids. Except Sirius talks about different letters, Os and Es and Ts.“You don’t tell me what to do anymore.” Dad’s face grows more stern. “I’m the dad. That means I’m in charge.”Uh-oh. He’s heading towards trouble and Dad might take his brooms away.Harry grins and holds his arms as wide as he can. “I can tell you to hug me! Please?”Dad shakes his head and murmurs “I can’t say no to that.”Tight in his Dad’s arms, Harry asks “Are you going to say no to Quidditch?”Dad huffs a breath against Harry’s cheek. “You can fly, but try to be safe.”Harry cheers, wiggling out of Dad’s arms. Later, when he flies off a balcony and dives towards the ground, Dad grumbles about being surrounded by punks with no sense of self preservation.One night, Mr. Stark and Steve put on fancy business suits to go to a party for Harry’s Hope. “Why can’t I go?” Harry asks. “It’s for my hope! I hope we go to the Olympics. Are you going without me?!.”“Of course not. This will just be a bunch of boring people.” Mr. Stark says, like he doesn’t even want to go. “It’s not even a fun party.”“It’s not my birthday party.” Harry nods before he realizes “You mean smoking drinking grownup parties.”“Those are the fun parties, but I don’t smoke!” Mr. Stark says . “I don’t have healing lungs like your dad and Logan. I already have a heart condition. I don’t want to add black lung on top of that.”“So you value your lungs more than your liver.” Steve says.Harry’s Grandpa’fessor rolls up. He’s always wearing a suit, so Harry doesn’t know if he’s going to the grownup party until he says “Harry’s Hope is our new charity to help kids who are being mistreated, as you were.”“Is it going to be another homeschool?” Harry looks around the X-Homeschool.“We’ll help fund more abuse shelters, fund foster families. Train people to spot abuse before a brainwashed super soldier shows up.” Mr. Stark nods at Dad. “It’ll help mutant kids, magic kids, muggle kids.”“No child should be mistreated.” Steve adds.Thor’s heavy footsteps approach. He looks weird in a business suit. “Children are cherished on Asgard.” “I certainly felt cherished.” sneers Loki, who doesn’t seem strange at all in a suit. Grandpa’fessor turns his wheelchair towards the door and says “Shall we, gentlemen?”Mr. Stark sighs and mutters something about having kids around ending the fun party years. “Birthdays are every year!” Harry calls after him. Even without going to the party, Harry gets to go out and do fun things far more often than he ever expected.The next day, they go back to New York City to visit a museum full of dinosaur bones, a giant T-Rex skeleton and a huge stone head that doesn’t look as real as the stone president heads that Loki messed with.Steve makes Loki promise not to bring anything in the museum to life.Grandpa’fessor, Doctor Banner and Beast come along this time, and they know lots of things about all the things they see. Mr. Stark keeps interrupting to share stuff he knows. There are halls full of stuff about stars, which Sirius says is a class at Hogwarts but the others seem to know more.Sirius knows the most about magic history.Ms. Romanoff comes too, but not the Bartons. Harry still can’t call her Auntie Nat, like Lila does.There are other families with children. Some of the other families stare at them more than the stuff in the museum. Harry, Dad, Steve and Doctor Banner don’t like being watched, but Mr. Stark seems used to it.Dad watches everyone else, instead of the dinosaurs.Children crowd around Beast as he explains stuff. A few families leave the museum in a hurry, dragging their kids away like Beast might attack, or get attacked.Doctor Banner sort of hides at first, but an older girl in a Hulk shirt finds him anyway and asks science stuff that Harry doesn’t understand.Harry sees another girl tug on her mum’s hand and point at the T-Rex. “Mom, you won’t get in trouble if you make it move.”“I’ll still get in trouble.” sighs her mum.“But everyone knows about magic. Please?! Make it move! Make it move!”Harry and a few other children join the chant. “Make it move! Make it move!”Sirius is the one who takes out his wand and waves it. The T-Rex skeleton raises its head and roars. Harry cheers and a few children scream, even after it stops roaring.“That’s why I wasn’t going to do it.” the mum tells her daughter. Sirius puts his wand back in his pocket.“I must say, magic can make museums more interactive.” Grandpa’fessor says as they head for another exhibit.“So can robots.” Mr. Stark replies. There’s a hall with things called sarcophaguses, which Harry can’t quite repeat the name of. Mr. Stark says there’s a mummy inside, a dead body all wrapped up.“My mummy?” Harry asks. The painting on the sarcophagus doesn’t have red hair or Harry’s green eyes. “No, these are from Egypt.” Sirius answers, though Harry doesn’t know what that means. Mr. Stark projects the world from his phone, and Jarvis makes glowing spots to point out England and Egypt and here.“One of the very first mutants was from Egypt.” Grandpa’fessor shares. “En Sabah Nur took the moniker Apocalypse.”Sirius says there are cursed tombs in Egypt and says the muggles must have found some that weren’t cursed for the museum.Harry turns back towards the sarcophagus.“Did my mummy become a mummy?”“No.” says Sirius. “They were buried. I haven’t even visited.” His voice catches and he clears his throat, staring at the wall. Harry studies the mummies.“Are they older than Thor and Loki?”“Yes.”Ms. Romanoff says she saw lots of dead bodies as a kid, but never like this. That night, Harry gets to sleep under a blue whale, even though it’s not a Night at the Museum event and the rules say kids have to be six. Mr. Stark refuses to sleep under the whale, saying it’s too much like those Leviathan things they fought.“Are we going to get attacked?” Harry asks.“We’re ready if we do.” Steve says.When Harry wakes up that night, he’s sure that armed guys with guns are in the building, but the dark is still and quiet. He reaches around for his glasses.Everyone else is awake too. Steve is drawing something on paper. Dad and Sirius sit with him under the blue whale. Dad runs his fingers through Harry’s hair.“You beat the bad guys already?” Harry smiles. Sirius smiles back sadly. “I think you had a bad dream.”“I’m surprised Loki didn’t send the mummies to scare us.” Mr. Stark says. Steve doesn’t look up from his drawing, but he frowns. “Don’t give him ideas.” “Can we get hot cocoa?” Harry wriggles out of his sleeping bag and into Dad’s lap.“The cafe’s closed.” Dad answers.Mr. Stark scoffs. “Have you forgotten I’m a billionaire? I literally just bought out Coney Island for a day. Getting hot chocolate delivered to the Natural History Museum at 3 am is nothing, and far from the most outlandish thing I’ve done, if you ask Pepper.”Soon they’re sipping mugs of steaming cocoa and tea under the big blue whale, and Harry wishes he woke up here every night. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Less than a week has passed since the trial, and James sometimes still can’t believe he’s free to go places solely because he wants to, rather than being shipped to a new base or sent on a mission.The inner voice states, unnecessarily, that the last mission he’d been sent on was in Surrey. The upcoming trip to London feels significant, even if he hadn’t been in London on that mission. I only toured Europe during the war. Bucky’s voice joins the conversation, never willing to let the programmed voice have the last word. Hard to do much sightseeing when you’re being shot at. James hopes he won’t be shot at this time, that this trip will be more relaxing than fighting his programming while on the run with a small child, but he’s not stupid. He’ll still be watchful, wary, braced for an attack. James doesn’t know if he’ll ever drop the constant vigilance, as Moody would say. There’s more than a chance that some villain, or even angry civilians, will attack at the Olympics. Tensions have been high, Professor X puts far too mildly.“The Olympics are about unity as much as they’re about competition.” Professor X is clearly hopeful that the event will unite the world in a way the alien invasion and recent reveals had further shaken it. “The rings symbolize the union of the five continents.”Steve shakes his head. “Back in thirty-six, Hitler was banning Jews from competing and using the Berlin Olympics to promote Nazi propaganda.”In the past several weeks, there’s been much discussion on whether mutants or magical individuals should compete, and whether their powers give them an unfair advantage.While debates rage on TV, Stark has turned it into a sort of game. He pats Thor’s shoulder and says he’d kill at Hammer Throwing.“Would you really kill someone?” Harry asks, wide-eyed.Loki raises an incredulous eyebrow at Harry’s naivety.“I will not compete.” Thor declares magnanimously. “It would not be just for an Asgardian to dominate a Midgardian competition.”Stark turns towards Logan. “Ever thought about taking up fencing? I guess an epee would feel like spaghetti compared to your claws, like if I armored myself in tin foil.”Logan grunts, not bothering to unsheathe his claws."I'm not doing the discus throw." Steve says, before Stark can bring it up."You already do." Stark says, before debating if James would qualify for the Paralympics, adding that his super strength would be an unfair asset. Steve marvels at the existence of the Paralympics; they hadn’t existed back in the forties.Stark calls Barton for the sole purpose of relentlessly attempting to convince him to join the United States archery team. “I’m supposed to keep a low profile as an agent.” Barton says, dryly.“Yeah, well, you tossed that out the window by becoming an Avenger.” Stark waves a hand. “Come on, you’re totally ordinary. You’re like these people’s wet dreams.”“Someone wet the bed?” Harry asks, snickering behind his hands.Barton and Stark both start smothering laughter, and James glares at them, silently commanding them not to reveal the real meaning. He’s not going to have that talk with Harry for several years, if he has anything to say about it. Surely Barton should understand, with kids of his own.“You’re coming, right?” Harry demands, which only makes Barton and Stark laugh more. Harry gives Stark a withering look. “You’re coming to the Olympics, right?!”Stark casually mentions that he owns one property in London and two more elsewhere in England. “I’m sure the Prof’s got a place there, too, being another billionaire and all. And a Brit.”“You know, Laura and I take the kids places. We do fun family things.” Barton grouses. “I don’t know why you act like I never let them leave the farm.”“You guys should have come to Coney Island.” Harry complains right back. “And slept with us at the museum.”Barton raises his brows, both surprised and approving. “You’ve been having a ton of adventures, huh?”“You bet.” Stark sends a meaningful look at James. “What’s the point of being free if you just lock yourself away in a mansion? Or a farmhouse. So, you with us? This can totally be a team bonding trip.”Barton’s eyes narrow. “Hasn’t Thor’s brother been hanging around with you?”“Tell Barton that I’m hardly interested in watching Midgardians compete with one another in physical pursuits.” Loki says disdainfully from across the room. Barton, of course, hears him. He appears to suppress a flinch before he fires back. “Wow, some caring king he would have been.” “I’ve been subjected to far too many displays of my dear brother’s brutish conquests back in Asgard.”“Yet, you have no issue bringing your brutish conquests here.” Barton glares, as if he could shoot Loki through the screen. “I would expect you to be more understanding of how it feels to be under the scepter’s control.” Loki bites out.Barton grinds his teeth. He is obviously aware that Loki wasn’t fully in control, but Loki still controlled him.“Saying I don’t like you is an understatement, but the team seems to trust you. We’ve all gotten second chances.”James knows that Barton had been sent to assassinate Romanoff but had defied orders, seeing someone worth saving. He clearly isn’t feeling quite as charitable towards Loki.“Don’t think I won’t turn you into a porcupine if you come anywhere near my family.”Loki smirks. “Is that so? Nobody in your family has any magical abilities.”“I do!” Harry declares, then turns to try and placate Barton. “Loki’s nice even if he always wins Go Fish. He got an egg for my dragon.”Barton raises his eyebrows. “You have a dragon?”“It’s a toy dragon from Coney Island.” Harry says. “You could have won one too.”“We’ve got Lucky.” Barton replies, and Harry nods seriously.“Loki finds statues more interesting than your family.” Stark tells Barton. “Trust me, you’re safe.”Barton turns back to Stark. “If you start to pester Nat about joining the gymnastics team, save it until I’m in earshot, okay?” Barton taps a finger over his hearing aid.Harry is beside himself with anticipation. Every morning, the first question out of his mouth is whether they’re leaving for the Olympics, followed by when they’ll see the Bartons again.James is happy that Stark has arranged this experience for his son, but is apprehensive about the seating arrangements.According to Jarvis, the London Stadium seats over sixty thousand people. The thought of being surrounded by so many potential threats sends James’ heart racing. Stark says he could probably arrange for a private box, like the Queen will have. James’ jaw clenches. A private box would broadcast their location to any potential enemies. James knows how to disappear in a crowd, and Black or Loki could help them literally disappear, but he doesn’t feel settled.Harry, glancing at James’ face, deflates. “Are we not going?”“You could hover over the stadium in the Blackbird, with stealth mode on.” Stark suggests, half joking and half serious. “Otherwise, you can watch it televised like millions of other people.”“That’s what I’m doing.” Doctor Banner smiles self-consciously. “I don’t do well in crowds.”James nods, not sure which he’s agreeing to.A few days later, a limousine pulls up in front of the mansion. “Happy!” Stark greets the driver who opens the other doors, then greets the Bartons as they climb out, all looking rather awestruck over their accommodations.James notes that Barton keeps watch for any sign of Loki.Barton appears equally appreciative over Stark’s private jet. “SHIELD never arranged for me to fly first class for missions.”“I think that’s the least of SHIELD’s sins.” Steve replies, face carefully blank. “You had a quinjet.” Stark snorts.Barton raises an eyebrow back. “Look who’s talking. As if you’ve ever flown with a commercial airline in your life.”Black looks around the jet, somewhat baffled.Steve inspects the controls, and Stark says “It’s autopilot, Cap. Besides, there’s no way I’m letting you fly.”“Jerk.” Steve says, though he’s grinning. Hey, that’s me. Bucky’s voice protests in James’ head. Cooper flops back in one of the padded chairs. “This is even better than when we went to Disney World.”Barton sinks into a chair beside his son. “You just ruined all my vacations for my kids. I could never pull this off.”“Of course not.” Stark grins. Harry stays close to James’ side, clutching his hand, no doubt remembering the last time they flew in one of Stark’s planes.“We got witch hunted.” Harry voices the thought aloud.“Anyone trying to get to you has to get through me.” Black says, almost snarling.They take off alongside the Blackbird.The flight is uneventful, but long. After twenty minutes, Harry starts to whine that Loki could have gotten them there in a blink.Beast, perhaps noticing the look on Barton’s face, begins to talk about how the journey is a pleasure in itself. My journey sure wasn’t, Bucky’s voice is sour in James’ mind. I wouldn’t have minded skipping past decades of torture to where we are now. CRYOFREEZE MAKES TIME SKIP, says the other voice. You know damn well I didn’t mean it like that, Bucky snipes back. James shivers in the carefully climate-controlled cabin. Cryofreeze had been both a relief from the burning of the memory wipes and punishments as well as a torture all on its own.James hears ice clink and shudders violently, before Stark says, kinder than usual “It’s my drink, James.”James sees ice floating in Stark’s glass. A flight attendant offers James one, but he doesn’t trust himself not to break the glass.Harry, Cooper and Lila keep up a steady stream of questions, mostly regarding their estimated time of arrival.“How much longer?” Harry moans, bored of the miniature basketball hoop Stark has installed. At last they touch down at another one of Stark’s mansions. Harry, Lila and Cooper dash off to explore, playing hide-and-seek in the various rooms.“I found a room under the stairs!” Cooper shouts, more excited about that one detail than the rest of the mansion. “Harry, we have a hideout!”“I get to hide out too!” Lila yells, charging past them from where she’d been inspecting the ornate furniture.“We came here to see the Olympics, not the underside of Stark’s stairs.” Barton calls after them, grinning and shaking his head at Laura.Harry pokes his head out. “Let’s see the Olympics.”“They don’t start for another four days.” Barton replies. Stark gives a tour, saying the ground floor bedroom is reserved for the Professor. By the end, the children are exhausted from the flight and exploration. James tucks Harry into bed, while the Barton parents tuck their children in another room.On the second day, Black says he wants to take Harry to Godric’s Hollow and pay respects to Lily and James Potter.Black apparates them into a small town square. The entire village of Godric’s Hollow appears smaller than the grounds of Xavier’s Institute. James scans the church, the pub, the post office and the shops. An obelisk sits in the center of the square, carved with names. Most likely casualties. James thinks there may be more casualties caused by his hands than the many names on the obelisk.“Is that my mummy?” Harry asks, staring at the obelisk. “And James.” Black’s voice catches and he nods. Both Black and Harry stare at the obelisk, as if they’re seeing something else entirely.Harry walks towards it. “Who’s the baby?”“That’s you.” Black tells him. Harry squints at it.“There’s no scar.” Harry rubs his own.“There’s no scar in your photos.” Black reminds him.James has worked out that there must be a statue there, one he can’t see. It makes him uneasy.Black glances back at James. “There’s still a charm on it.”“My first dad had glasses too.” Harry shares, as if he doesn’t have a whole album of photos back home, one he and Black had pored over. Harry turns to address the obelisk. “Mummy, this is my new Dad.”The villagers are giving them space, not out of fear, but out of kindness. They’d seemed unsurprised by the sudden appearance of their group.“Welcome home, Harry.” says one witch.Harry blinks. “This isn’t home.”“It is.” Black rasps. “Or, it was.”He leads them down a cobbled street lined with cottages. One cottage appears to have fallen victim to a fire or explosion. The top is missing entirely, and James is suddenly reminded of what he did to Number Four, Privet Drive.“It looks worse than the shrieking shack.” Black mutters, mostly to himself. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from the cottage, but he addresses James next. “You can see this one?”James nods stiffly. He reads the sign which summarizes, in gold letters, what happened here on Halloween, nearly four years ago. The sign is covered in graffiti, messages from people who state they’re behind Harry, that they hope he’s well.Black makes a wounded noise in his throat. They make their way to the cemetery, and James once again can’t help thinking that a cemetery of his victims would be much larger. They’re HYDRA’s victims. Bucky insists in his head. You’re HYDRA’s victim. The programmed voice commands him to FOCUS ON HARRY. James puts his prosthesis on Harry’s shoulder.They find that their graves are already covered in flowers. James does not know if it’s Stark’s doing, or the villagers’. Likely both. Black conjures another bouquet with his wand.“They’d be glad, you know.” Black says, after a long stretch of silence. “Glad he’s got you.”“And you.” Harry says to Black. After another silence, he asks “Can we go back now?”Black nods. “Come on. Let’s go.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The following day, Black invites Harry and James to accompany him to Hogwarts, on a mission to retrieve his flying motorcycle from Hagrid.“Hagrid won’t attack you now,” Black promises, having heard Harry’s stories of the giant that James fought. WE BEAT HIM. insists the mission voice.“No.” Harry says, completely unswayed. Black offers candy from Honeydukes and a flight on the Quidditch Pitch. Pulling out the big guns, are we? Bucky says. James doesn’t voice this aloud but stares at Black, unimpressed.Harry folds his arms along with James, and Black shakes his head. “You have Lily’s stubborn streak.”Cooper and Lila beg to go, but Black leaves them behind.“It’s not fair!” the whine, until Stark pulls out a Wii game featuring the Olympics.“There’s mutants on this!” Harry exclaims, pointing at the blue creature on the cover, next to the cartoonish man in overalls and a red ball cap. “See? Mutants can play in the Olympics!”“He’s a hedgehog!” Cooper laughs. “It’s Sonic.”The game is filled with a wide variety of cartoonish characters, including a rainbow of hedgehogs and cats, a monstrous creature with a spiked shell, four mustached men in overalls and different colored baseball caps, and a fox with two tails.“A mutant fox!” Harry insists. Harry proudly waves his Wii wand to make the two-tailed fox throw a hammer or discus, swing an epee, or dash in a race. Thor plays with equal enthusiasm, using a gorilla as an avatar.Harry quickly realizes there’s no Quidditch in the game, but rejects Stark’s offer to program it in. “I can just fly my moto’broom,” he says.Stark programs it regardless, along with the ability to play as anybody on their team. James chooses to observe, flipping a knife between his fingers as he pulls it out. He begins whittling a block of wood; the professor has suggested he create something with a knife.James finds himself carving the shape of Harry’s mutant fox while Lila plays as “Auntie Nat”.Lila hands her Wii wand to the real Romanoff during the gymnastics games.Romanoff wins, as James expected. Lila cheers for her, bouncing on the cushions. Barton grabs for the Wii wand and tosses one to James, who tucks his knife back with the others. Romanoff pulls out her own knife and takes over James’ carving. She gives a smile that most would find unsettling and says “I need to keep my skills sharp.” Barton rates her pun five out of ten.James and Barton both have no difficulty with the pistol shooting minigame, hitting the bullseye every time, and earning straight tens.Rather than watching to cheer on their fathers, Harry, Lila and Cooper tumble around on the couch and somersault over the armrests. Lucky darts around them, barking.Steve shifts from sketching the characters onscreen to capturing the children playing on the couch. Romanoff watches with a carefully blank face, and James doesn’t need all his memories to know he’d never once heard the children in the Black Widow program laugh.“It’s time to take Lucky out.” Barton stretches. “We can do some sightseeing.”Steve eagerly agrees. Harry grabs a Wii wand and waves it at the screen.Lila tugs Harry’s hand. “You can show us magic stuff!” “I don’t know where magic stuff is.” Harry tugs back towards the Wii. James tells Harry to put his shoes on, and Harry sighs but complys. “Should we bring my cloak?”James still has skills from his time as the Soldier. He knows how to go unnoticed in crowds, despite his recent media attention. Romanoff has similar skills, but they both disguise themselves regardless. Steve attracts attention, even with his disguise, and veers away to divert attention from the rest of the group.Cooper declares himself Sonic and challenges Harry to a race, but James holds Harry’s hand, unwilling to let him out of arm’s reach. Harry pulls, wanting to run around the park with Cooper and Lila while Lucky relieves himself.James is still watchful of passing civilians. His gaze sweeps for threats continually, but still enjoys his freedom to go on a walk with his friends and his son.Harry keeps asking to go to Tesco, even though Stark and Professor X have been providing them with food and anything else they need or want. They pass a Tesco Express, but eyes it as if it personally betrayed him, no doubt remembering the much larger store they’d broken into.They head towards the location of Big Ben, which is far enough for Lila to complain about being tired. Harry points at the passing red buses, the red telephone booths and street signs.As soon as the clock tower comes into view, Lila’s complaints stop, and she talks wistfully about flying up to the face.“I can fly you up.” Harry offers, and Lila grins. On the way back, she’s suddenly tired again, and Barton carries her on his back as they walk back to the mansion. Black returns later, riding his flying motorcycle. “Did you get me a flying bike for my birthday?!” Harry asks, as soon as it lands.“This is mine.” Black tells him. “But I’ll take you for rides.” Someone else is riding the motorcycle; a man who, like Black, looks extremely worn down for his age. The man reminds James of Doctor Banner; rumpled, old clothes, a tired face, seeming uncomfortable in his own skin.James recognizes the man from the photos in Harry’s album. Remus Lupin.Harry clearly recognizes him too, because he says, without preamble. “You’re in my photo book. Sirius says you have a furry little problem. Do you like riding his bike?” Banner, Beast and Stark emerge from inside, and Stark raises an eyebrow. “Your furry little problem is hardly noteworthy here.”“I wouldn’t put it like that.” Lupin shifts uncomfortably as Stark strikes over to inspect the motorcycle.“Your wolfy moments are conveniently scheduled. I had no idea what would set them off.” Stark nods towards Banner and James, and Banner’s expression is something between a smile and a grimace. “You tried bringing the Other Guy out on purpose.”Lupin studies Banner for a moment. James suspects he’d work it out, but Stark interrupts before he can, clapping Banner on the shoulder. “Brucie Bear turns into a giant green rage monster, but Hulk’s really not a bad guy.” Stark’s eyes flick between Banner and Lupin, and he smirks. “It’s like you were made for each other. Go, shoo, take your self-loathing and rip it to shreds.”Neither of them leave.Stark rounds on Black. “You didn’t ask before bringing your old buddy Remus here, but that reminds me, I should call up Rhodey and really make this a party.”Stark whips out his phone as Harry throws a pillow at Black. “Turn it into a wolf toy, please!” Black waves his wand, and the pillow morphs into a large plush wolf.Harry glances between the large plush dog he gave Cooper and the television screen. “Make it a mutant wolf!”Black waves his wand again, and the wolf grows a second tail. Much like the fox Harry’s controlling in the Wii game, the wolf spins its tails like helicopter blades to hover in the air. Harry laughs, jumping to catch it, then thrusts it at Lupin. “Happy birthday!”A small smile crosses Lupin’s lips. “You keep it. It’s almost your birthday.”“I’m almost five!” Harry boasts. “Sirius made a Beast toy ‘cos we didn’t win any at Coney Island. He doesn’t bite.”Lupin shifts uneasily at the mention of biting.Still on the phone, Stark throws another pillow at Black and tells him to make it a platypus. Black hesitates until Stark projects a photo from his phone.“That looks like a niffler.” Lupin observes. He waves his own wand to transform the pillow into something similar to a platypus.Harry looks at Lupin, awestruck. “You’re a wizard and a mutant.”“You’re okay with that?” Lupin asks slowly, like he thinks Harry doesn’t grasp the severity of the situation.“What else do you expect from James’ son, Moony?” Black asks. “We weren’t bothered, were we?”“That’s putting it lightly, Padfoot.” Lupin replies with a trace of a sad, fond smile. “You and James made those nights adventures for me.”“We saw his statue with my mummy, and baby me.” Harry shares. “And the rocks with their names. They’re buried, not turned into mummies.”Black ruffles Harry’s long hair, then turns to Lupin. “Have you been?”“Do you have claws?” Harry asks eagerly, staring intently at Lupin’s hands.“I do when I transform.” Lupin answers.“Can I see?” Harry grins, likely expecting claws like Logan’s.“It only happens on the full moon.” Lupin tells him. “I almost couldn’t make it for your birthday this year.”Harry shrugs. “You didn’t come to any of my birthdays.” Lupin and Black both wince. “He’s here now.” Black says, as if trying to confirm it, himself. “We both are. James was our best friend, and you’re all we have left.”James is strongly reminded of Steve, and the Bucky voice says “ They’re all left with someone else.” “We’ll be able to see the ceremony better this way,” Barton says as they settle in the theater in Stark’s London mansion. Even Potts and Stark’s friend Colonel Rhodes have joined them. Colonel Rhodes leans against the niffler-platypus pillow that Lupin made.“You are supposed to have the eye of a hawk.” Thor tilts his head. “Seeing such a distance should be no issue for you.”“It’s not. And the carnie in me says live shows are always better. But not for everyone here.”“This is easier for Harry to see.” Lupin points mildly.“We are heroes. Should we not have the best seating?” “They wouldn’t let Gepetto in with his knives anyway.” Stark gestures at the knife James is using to carve a wolf. James frowns. He’s perfectly capable of hiding knives so security couldn’t find them.“I could remain undetected.” James says as he shapes the wolf’s second tail.“You fear an attack.” Thor says gravely. Onscreen, tens of thousands of people sit in the stadium, waiting for the ceremony to begin. “We should be there to defend the innocent and vanquish the enemy.”Steve’s brow furrows. “It should just be a show.” The stadium for the opening ceremony is set to resemble green pastures. People dressed as villagers work as children sing a song for Northern Ireland. James turns to Steve. “Your mother’s name was Sarah. She was from Ireland.”Steve smiles and nods like James is more fascinating to watch than the performance.The music gets more intense, the set fiery to represent the industrial revolution as steam stacks rise from the ground.James finds himself missing the green pastures and the soothing songs sung by the children’s choir.Harry turns back to James and shouts, hypocritically, for Jarvis to lower the volume.Jarvis doesn’t comment as he dutifully reduces the noise, but Stark says Jarvis is above being a glorified remote control.“ Might I remind you, sir, that you use me as an alarm clock and music application. ”“You’re a DJ, Jay.” Stark replies, before Romanoff sends him a look to be quiet.The performance lasts for 16 minutes.Barton grins during a video in which a spy named James Bond escorts the Queen out of her palace and into a helicopter. The helicopter travels across London before Bond and the Queen skydive towards the stadium. At 21:35, children in hospital beds are wheeled out into the stadium. James frowns and glances over at Steve.None of the children are coughing or gasping for breath. They get up and dance on the beds, alongside dancing doctors and nurses. Steve never did that, Bucky says.At the same time, Harry says “I didn’t dance when I was sick.”He runs out of the theater, and James follows him to the bedroom, where Harry proceeds to jump on the bed. Jarvis turns the bedroom television on to the broadcast of the opening ceremony, and Harry dances with the children on screen. Lila and Cooper still join him, and the rest of the group trickles in.The children in the show hide under their glowing covers. In the darkened stadium, shadowy figures arrive with iron cages.Black lets out a ragged gasp. Harry shouts “You have to save them! Where’s my broom?”“It’s part of the show.” Romanoff assures him, though she offers a hand to both Harry and Lila.Large puppets of fictional villains trail after the child snatchers. An evil queen, a lady surrounded by spotted dogs and a pirate surround a girl whose bed has been lifted, not by strings, but by magic.More dark child snatchers rush around the stage, and then a team of women float down, using umbrellas as parachutes.“Mary Poppins!” Lila cheers. The team of Mary Poppins drive the shadowy figures away with their umbrellas, and James suspects the umbrellas conceal wands, like the umbrella belonging to the giant at Hogwarts.The children return to dancing on their glowing beds, and the doctors, nurses and Mary Poppinses dance alongside them.Lila shakes Barton’s arm. “She should have helped you guys fight, Dad.”Afterwards, a mute man named Mr. Bean plays one note on the piano and imagines winning a race on the beach. Cooper laughs, but Harry is already asleep.Stark refuses to watch any of the swimming events taking place the following day, but it hardly matters since Barton insists on watching the gold medal archery event.Harry seems confused over which country to support and cheer for; he looks between Steve and Stark rooting for the United States, Lupin and Black rooting for Great Britain, and Professor Xavier, who supports both equally. Logan mentions he’s from Canada, and Storm shares that she’s a Kenyan princess, like her mother.Lila’s eyes widen, while Harry merely looks confused.Romanoff offers silent support for the Russian gymnasts, which confuses James because her memories of the Red Room can’t be any better than his time under Soviet control.“Why can’t they all win?” Harry asks, clearly not wanting any of his family to be upset about a loss.“They ain’t giving participation trophies, kid.” Logan grunts.“They give medals here.” Harry says slowly, as if Logan was unaware. After the event, Black says he has to go to the magic shops to pick out a present for Harry’s birthday. Lila and Cooper beg to accompany him, and Lupin agrees.To James’ surprise, Harry insists on going along.Black takes them to a dingy pub on Charing Cross Road that James hadn’t noticed until Black led them there. More magic, he presumes. The pub’s name, The Leaky Cauldron, further solidifies that theory.James also notes that Thor had been able to see it all along.“No peeking when we pick your presents.” Black warns Harry, who looks around dubiously. “I can’t drink brandy.” Harry says. “Or Mr. Stark’s scotch.”“I can.” Logan is clearly content to spend the afternoon in the dingy pub, but Black hurries them through, perhaps reminded of his cell. Stark doesn’t appear particularly at ease either, despite his love of alcohol.Thor promises to join Logan for a drink later. Logan merely grunts as Thor stays with the rest of their group.Black leads them to a small, enclosed courtyard behind the pub.Cooper looks around accusingly “You’re tricking us. You aren’t really taking us to magic shops.”“I wanted to see magic shops.” Lila pouts.“This is how we get to Diagon Alley,” Black explains.At the word alley , Bucky’s voice says it sounds like a place Steve will get punched. The other voice blares PROTECT, but it’s really Bucky’s voice that’s more protective of Steve . Til the end of the line, Bucky assures.Lupin begins tapping bricks with his wand. A hole appears, growing into an archway. It leads to a cobbled street that looks nothing like the alleys James remembers Steve picking fights in.Bucky’s voice is long-suffering when it says , That won’t stop him. The archway instantly shrinks and disappears after they’ve stepped through it, and James instantly starts taking note of exits and hideaways. The street is cobbled and twisted, leading out of sight. Shops sell cauldrons, strange instruments, owls, robes, books and wands. Lila points to everything and asks “Are you getting him that? What about that? What about that? Are you getting Harry a wand?” “We don’t get wands until we’re eleven.” Lupin says. He patiently answers every question the children throw his way, but says he can’t hear when they shout at the same time.When she sees a store selling owls, Lila begs Laura and Barton to buy her one.“Who would you send mail to?” Lupin asks curiously, and Lila looks taken aback.Stark mutters that wizards need to “get with the times and use email already.”A family full of people with bright red hair, more vibrant than Romanoff’s, comes out of Eeylops Owl Emporium. One of the boys is carrying an owl in a cage.“They’re sure this one isn’t a man?” asks another boy.“Animagi have to register.” their father reassures them.“Yeah, well, Scabbers wasn’t registered.” another boy mutters.Black makes a noise that’s almost a growl as the father attempts to change the subject to the innovation of Muggle games. Several of the boys say that Quidditch is better.They’re too focused on their own discussion to notice them, until a pair of twins stops and says “It’s Harry Potter!”“Where?” shrieks the youngest child, the only girl among the children.James has already pulled Harry behind him, and the girl doesn’t spot him.“You didn’t really see Harry Potter.” scoffs the youngest boy, who appears to be Harry’s age.“We did, ickle-Ronniekins.” says one twin.The girl tugs her mother’s hand, trying to turn back towards them. “I want to see him!” The mother chastises her daughter, saying Harry isn’t something to watch in a zoo. “He’s been through so much.”The father says “He’s in a good place now.”Harry pulls James towards a shop called Quality Quidditch Supplies to look at the broomstick in the window.“You already have two brooms.” James tells him. “It’s too big for you.”Black drags Lupin off to pick out Harry’s presents, while Cooper and Lila make gleefully disgusted noises at spleens and eyeballs in barrels.James is used to the sight of organs.Stark moves through the alley like he owns it, inspecting items and pelting shopkeepers and passersby with questions. A few of the wizards and witches sneer at him being a Muggle, but Stark is quick to inform them how he saved the world.Steve, far from lecturing Stark, almost gets into a fight with a blond wizard until James hauls him away. Lila begs for a magic storybook, and the Bartons take their children into a bookshop.Lupin and Black return with several packages in brown paper. Harry guesses they’re a broomstick and a motorcycle, despite none of the packages being long enough. The Bartons return empty-handed; the shops only take wizarding money. Black says they can exchange it at Gringotts, but Stark waves a hand.“They’ll take my money.” Stark leads the Bartons back into the shop, and Lila is hugging a storybook when they re-emerge. Cooper has a book about spells he likely will never cast, but he’s determined to help Harry cast them.James doesn’t remember any birthdays growing up, but they are evidently an elaborate affair. Parents throw huge parties full of games and decorations for every birthday, and Steve seems taken aback by it all. There are pinatas, which children beat for candy.Stark relentlessly teases Steve about how Pin the Shield on the Captain is everyone’s new favorite birthday game. Stark shows them a picture of a paper Captain America with a shield instead of a head.Banner says it used to be Pin the tail on the donkey, and Bucky’s voice says he sees no difference.Harry asks for “Pin the arm on Dad” but Steve disallows the idea.When asked what he wants to do on his birthday, Harry answers with what he’s been doing; watching the Olympics on the television and playing as Tails the mutant fox in the Wii game.Stark, of course, goes overboard, and arranges for far more than James really thinks is necessary. James wants Harry to have everything, but three children do not need twelve inflatable structures to jump on. They jump on the couch and beds already.“They aren’t just for the children,” Romanoff says, and Barton is almost more excited about them than his children. Stark plans to turn the mansion’s backyard into a carnival, until James says they could simply visit Coney Island again. Harry certainly would be amenable to the idea.James and Barton plan a fake Olympics like the one Barton had started at his house.Jarvis suggests a game called Pass the Parcel, and Barton says it must be a British thing, because he hasn’t encountered it at any birthday parties his children have attended.James insists on picking out some of the presents to be wrapped inside. Stark’s overindulgence is starting to make James feel inept.James scouts out a small bookshop before bringing Harry along.A bell rings when James pushes the door open, but the shopkeeper is distracted by a girl Harry’s age with bushy brown hair.“Do you have the book Matilda? I got it from the library and I quite liked it. I could relate to Matilda because I love to read and I used telekinesis to pull a book from a high shelf. Can you believe telekinesis is real? And magic? I think I must be a witch.”The girl speaks very quickly without pause, in a way that reminds James greatly of Stark.“My dad read me Matilda!” Harry practically shouts. “You could be a mutant.”“Mutant powers typically don’t develop until adolescence.” the girl says, like she’s reciting from a book she’s read. It’s still strange seeing such a young child use terms like adolescence. “It’s much more likely that I’m a witch. You shouldn’t shout in a bookshop, you know.”James realizes Harry genuinely hadn’t known.The girl’s mother sighs “Hermione,” Hermione's mother looks at them, and recognition flashes in her eyes.“Come on,” James herds Harry behind some shelves. They select books for Banner and Beast, because Harry insists nobody should be left out of Pass the Parcel.On the walk back, Harry stops and insists on getting a pair of cheap, gaudy sunglasses for Stark. They’re vastly different from Stark’s usual designer models, but James suspects Stark will wear them regardless.When Harry wakes up on his birthday, he rushes to play Wii. It’s nighttime still, and Dad’s up too. Harry holds out a Wii wand for Dad, but Dad shakes his head.“Try to get some sleep. It’s going to be a busy day.”“But I like game night.” Harry says.“We’ll play lots of games later.” Dad says. Instead of making hot cocoa or tea, Dad leads Harry back to bed.When Harry wakes up again, it’s bright outside. Harry smiles and looks over to see Dad.“Dad, I’m five! Like a high-five!”Harry holds up his hand, and Dad smiles and uses his metal hand to high-five him. Harry beams. “I didn’t have any bad dreams on my birthday!”There’s a knock on the bedroom door, and Mr. Stark jokingly calls “Room service!”He comes in with breakfast on a tray. Harry sees pancakes and fruit and orange juice. Harry stares. Why is he doing that?“It’s breakfast in bed.” Mr. Stark explains.“But I’m not sick.” Harry tells him. “I know, but it’s a special occasion. Happy birthday, Harry!”“Thank you. But I don’t want to just sit here all day.” He’s had enough birthdays just sitting there.When they go downstairs, everyone they see tells him “Happy birthday, Harry.” Even Logan.Harry’s never had people say Happy Birthday to him. He rushes towards the Wii, but Dad tells him to look out the window.Harry runs over. The backyard has huge, blow-up castles and rockets. Harry doesn’t mind these castles, and there’s even a Quidditch pitch.After a quick breakfast, Harry, Lila and Cooper run outside. They bounce around until it’s time for Pass the Parcel.Jarvis plays the music and makes sure it stops so Doctor Banner and Beast can unwrap their books, and Mr. Stark gets his sunglasses.Everything in the parcel layers have been shrunk, and Lupin or Sirius make them big again. Lila and Cooper unwrap their own motorbrooms for later. Harry gets to unwrap the last part of the parcel. It’s a toy whale, like the one they slept under.They run outside to fly on the little Quidditch pitch Sirius made, and then it’s time for the other presents. Harry has more than he ever saw Dudley get.Mr. Stark gives him a dragon like the one from Coney Island, only it’s metal like the Iron Man suits. Mr. Barton gives Harry an archery set that he says they’ll use later. Sirius and Remus give him a chess game like Grandpa’fessor’s, only the pieces move and shout a lot.Steve gives him a comic book all about his adventures with Dad and his family, along with markers so Harry can color the pictures. Harry stares at the drawing of a tiny boy in the cupboard.“That’s me.”His photo book has pictures of when he and Dad first met Mr. Stark, but it’s almost like looking at his baby photos or statue. He can’t believe he was so tiny.Dad gives Harry a bunch of wooden toys he made; Tails the fox, the wolf that also has two tails, a little train. He also gives Harry a knife and says he’ll teach Harry to carve.“You could have given him clay or Play-Doh.” Doctor Banner says.Harry’s glad he got this instead because he wants to be just like Dad.Harry turns to Logan after hugging Dad. “Did you carve things too?” “Do I look like the type to make little toys?” Logan asks.“Dad doesn’t look like the type, and he does,” Harry points out.Logan grunts and says he’ll make Harry a hockey stick. Harry throws his arms around Logan, too.Harry gets a magic storybook from Loki, who’s kept his word and hasn’t shown up now that the Bartons are here, and Asgardian armor from Thor, who doesn’t seem to get that Harry shouldn’t fight. Harry’s surprised to see some of the big kids sent stuff. He gets a ball that makes ice cream with science, not magic, with a note from Bobby saying he can’t freeze it for them. Harry unwraps cookies and a bunch of sparklers from Jubilee.Harry even gets something from Mr. Coulson; a bunch of cards with Pokemon on them. Harry happily shares them with Cooper and Lila. There are even more dragons with fire tails than the toy he got from Coney Island, and Cooper says it evolves. Harry doesn’t know what that means. Grandpa’fessor talks about mutations and adaptability, but Harry already guessed they were mutants because of the fire. There are even mutant ninja turtles, except Cooper says those are different from Blastoise.As Cooper and Lila sort eagerly through the cards, Mr. Barton declares it’s time for the Birthday Games. They light a sparkler like the torch, and Mr. Stark carries it out. They have a parade to the backyard, where a bunch of toys and Harry’s photo album are set up as the audience. Harry makes sure the picture of his mummy and his first dad can watch as Sirius puts on a magic show. It’s not as grand as the real ceremony, but it’s lots of fun.After the show, Mr. Stark announces “I declare open the Games of the Mansion, celebrating the first Olympiad of Harry’s Birthday.”They do the high jump on the bouncy castle, and then flip and bounce to get points in gymnastics. Lila gets the gold medal for that. Mr. Barton helps them shoot arrows for archery. Steve and Thor help with the discus throw and hammer throw. Then they have a dash across the yard that Lucky wins, even though Harry didn’t think he was playing. Lucky looks so happy with his medal, that Harry finds himself smiling.Lila asks if there’s horseback riding, but Mr. Stark didn’t get any horses. Harry thinks riding broomsticks is better anyway, and they play Fly Away from the Dragons. After the chase, they toss around the ice cream ball. Sirius casts a spell to make it not as heavy, and easier to catch and throw while they fly around.Harry throws the ice cream ball through the hoops, just like basketball, and wins a medal.Lucky runs off with the Birthday Olympic Cup and hides it somewhere, but Lupin flicks his wand and it comes flying back, crashing through a window that Lupin fixes. Harry tries to get Dad and Grandpa’fessor to compete in the Paralympics, but Grandpa’fessor says Dad would win everything with his super strength, even Ping Pong. Mr. Stark says Team Barton wins the cup, but Mr. Stark and Mr. Barton are on the same team, so Harry thinks they all win, even if Logan grumbles about it.After they hoist the cup, they go in to see the cake. It’s part basketball court and part Quidditch pitch, with players moving between the five candles to shoot at hoops.Harry blows out the candles with a secret wish.They take their cake and ice cream to the mansion’s theater to watch the real Olympics.Harry tries to share his ice cream with Dad, but Dad doesn’t want any. Harry takes a big bite. His brain freezes, and now he knows why Dad doesn’t like it.Dad tells him to take smaller bites.Harry leans against his dad’s shoulder and takes a small bite of ice cream.When he turned four, he thought birthdays would always mean hiding in his cupboard, listening to Dudley’s parties and presents.Now he has his own birthday and presents, and homemade ice cream. Even better, he has friends and a super family, and they helped him grow up into a big, strong boy.Bad things will probably happen this year when he’s five. Someone will try to find them and hurt them, and they’ll have bad dreams or bad days. Steve will get mad at Loki for mischief. Sirius and Lupin are leaving tomorrow when he turns into a wolf, but Harry always has Dad.They’re together after HYDRA and aliens and bad wizards, and they’ll always be together no matter what happens. Dad is free, and Harry’s five, and that means they can do anything.
10621440	I Know	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Rhett McLaughlin, Link Neal", "Fandom": "Rhett & Link", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Remembertherandler", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-14T00:00:00", "words": "1,131", "Additional Tags": "Kissing, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Touching, wall stuff, Love, Arguing", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal, Rhett McLaughlin & Link Neal", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“I don’t know what your keyboard did to piss you off, but it sure is takin’ a beatin’ over there.” Rhett turned in his chair.Link rolled his chair closer to his desk. “Someone around here needs to actually do some work.” Link punctuated his sentiment by slamming the enter key.“Ho, hokay,” Rhett leaned back, his hands cupped behind his head. “Everybody look out... Neal’s in a bad mood…” He crossed his legs, his foot resting on his knee. “I get it.”Link’s fingers stilled on the keys and he drew in an annoyed breath through his nose. “Of course you do.” He turned in his chair to face Rhett, head cocked to the side with brows raised. “That’d make sense… wouldn’t it?” Link ran his hand through his hair and let his head fall back, resting on the back of his chair. “Always thinkin’ you know everything,” he muttered under his breath.Their office fell silent, neither saying a word, but their communication had never been limited by their ability to speak. The subtle shift of a brow, or quirk of the lip, had been employed during many a meeting. Decisions were often made without a word spoken, entire days in their shared office passing in comfortable silence.Link chewed on his lower lip before he nudged his glasses up his nose and got up. He paused, his mouth falling open for a moment as though preparing to speak, but he simply shook his head and stalked toward the door.“Link.” Rhett jumped up, following behind, and grabbed him by the elbow as he reached for the door knob “Tell me what’s—”“Let go, Rhett.” Link spat through his teeth, his arm tensed.“Link… what the hell is going on?”Link turned around and shoved past Rhett, moving to stand in front of their shelves of knick knacks. He faced the window, his hand to his chin.“I’m assuming it’s something I said.”Link shook his head. “More like something you didn’t,” he huffed.Rhett stepped closer, resting his palm on Link’s shoulder. “Talk to me.”“Why?” Link spun around, eyes shining, just a hint of a glaze. “You didn’t.”“What are you talking ab—”“You’re such an idiot!” Link shoved Rhett backward, leaving him to stumble into the door. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He stepped into Rhett’s space, looking up at him through squinted eyes.“Link… I—”“I have to read about it a damn tweet!?” Link shoved Rhett again, leaving his hands on Rhett’s shoulders.“The accident?” Rhett’s questioned stumbled out of his mouth. “It was nothing.”“You just…” Link’s gaze dropped to Rhett’s chest. “You don’t get it.”“But I… I wasn’t—”“But you could have been!”Rhett’s eyes widened as he stuttered his response “Link… look I—”Link threw his hands in the air and stared up at the ceiling. “It’s seriously impossible for you to just…”“To just, what?”Link’s fingers knotted in his hair. “I don’t know…” He sighed, pulling off his glasses and rubbed at his temples. “Apologize.”“Hey.” Rhett kicked Link’s shoe, getting his attention. “You know me... I don’t apologize unless I mean it.” His cheeks rounded above his smirk.“And that’s the fucking problem, Rhett!” Link slid his glasses back on, stooping forward, slapping his thigh. “Unbelievable…” he muttered under his breath.Rhett’s amused expression faded.“You’re so damn selfish! You know that? You just...” The anger slowly ebbed from Link’s voice, as he downcast his gaze. “If I’d… I would’ve… you would’ve been… the first person…” He turned away.“Link… Link, wait.” Rhett grabbed his shoulder.“Don’t.”“But—”“I said,” Link wheeled around and pushed Rhett hard into the door, leaving it to rattle against its frame, “don’t,” he breathed as he unceremoniously crashed his lips into Rhett’s.The kiss was violent, tinged with anger, but there was a quiet desperation in the clench of Link’s jaw and his whitening knuckles as he clung desperately to the loose collar of Rhett’s hoodie.Rhett’s hands were frozen at his sides as Link pressed his body against the door, his eyes wide and worried. But Link’s grasp on him was steadfast, unyielding. Rhett’s surprise gave way under the force of it, his eyes drifting closed, the tension in his shoulders melting away. His hands found Link’s waist, nestling into the curve of him.Link parted his lips against Rhett’s, a small but impassioned groan rolling out through the gap.Rhett tipped his head to the side, nestling his nose against Link’s and opening up to the inviting lips on his own.There was a slight stutter of hesitation, of tentative tongues and quivering lips, but hands roamed up backs and wove into hair, slipped beneath cloth. Bodies pressed together, chests heaving, and hearts pounding. Brand new, and yet, familiar.Rhett’s grip tightened, his fingertips pressing into the soft skin covering Link’s hips as he swapped their positions, breaking their kiss and pressing Link’s back to the door. “What are we doing?” he panted, eyes darting between Link’s.“I don’t know.” Link’s breath was ragged and raw, his eyes wandering and far away with desire. “But don’t stop.”A growl emanated from deep in Rhett’s chest as he closed his mouth over Link’s, forcing apart soft lips with an intruding tongue. His fingers hooked Link’s belt loops and he pulled their hips together, rolling his own and pinning Link to the door.Link moaned, the sound of it muffled in their joined mouths. His hands roamed From their position on Rhett’s chest to wrap together behind his neck, knotting into the soft curls at its base. He stood on the tips of his toes, intensifying the kiss for a brief moment before he pulled away, swollen-lipped and breathless. “Rhett… I—”“I know.” Rhett’s hand cupped Link’s cheek. “Me too.” He nudged Link’s head to the side and buried his face in the dip of his collarbone. His hand slid down over Link’s neck, the pad of his finger following the line of the tendon that lead to the top button of Link’s shirt, his fingers working it open to expose the sharp lines of his shoulders, to gain access to more of his soft skin.Link bit down on his lower lip to stifle the sounds of pleasure as his nails dug into Rhett’s scalp and neck, his hips bucking forward.Rhett suckled and nipped at the pounding artery under his tongue. “I’m sorry,” he breathed, pressing a kiss to the reddened skin his teeth had marked.“Shh,” Link whispered, his head lolling against the door.Rhett kissed his way back to Link’s mouth, but stopped short, his lips waiting for his eyes to meet their target, bright blue and glimmering. “Link… I love—”“I know,” Link smiled. “Me too.”
10603989	Strawberry Evanescence	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Alexandra Reagan, Richard Strand, Original Character", "Fandom": "The Black Tapes Podcast", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by JohnlockAndATardis", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-12T00:00:00", "words": "1,204", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Ivory Shadows - Universe", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/F, F/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Alexandra Reagan is in her small, a-cubicle-would-be-bigger-Nic office at the studio, thumb running against the smooth ridges of the carved white figure in her hand when a knock raps at the door. It is an unfamiliar pattern of taps, short and punctuated against the yellow frame. Anticipating perhaps one of the new interns she and Nic had hired she raises her head lazily, settling the ivory figurine gently down beside her atop the velvet bag she'd procured for it. "Come in," she calls out that gentle, docile tone which signals peace within her. The tone that makes people fall for her, feel at ease with her, or so she had been told. But what we're a lover's words worth when they vanished in the daylight like smoke and her one night stands always did? Only nicotine scars. Slowly, the door creaked open, reminding Alex that she needed to have oiled the hinge. It was an old building, after all. But the thoughts of structural improvements faded out of her mind the moment that the figure at the doorway swept in, looking familiar no more than twenty five, two conjectures which were distinctly a-harmonious. Alex blinks, once, twice, a lucky third, trying to clear her vision but it does her no good. Strand would say, if he could hear her thoughts, that her mind was ascribing new data to an old memory, creating a familiar face out of one belonging to a stranger. That is, he would say that if he could get all the words out before she kicked him from the office. Because just as she had known her father's voice, she knew this face. Having seen it only once before made no difference now, with the sense of certainty that rang through her, desperately human. "Alexandra." The woman smiles, all strawberry lips and glittering green eyes, tumbles of red hair untouched by age as they cascade down her back, framing rosy cheeks. "My look how much you've grown young one; I thought you would be pretty. It seems that I was right." Her emerald gaze falls upon the desk, to the object that had only just vacated the journalist's hand. "I see you found my gift." Her tongue runs thoughtfully over her lip, like a snake testing the air about her. "I thought it was time old relics were returned - nothing is ever the same once it's known a warm touch." Alex's mind is reeling, she doesn't understand. The last few weeks have held puzzles that seem impossible to refute and even more so to ignore - first, this figurine and then the night with Strand, the one he won't admit to, the one he swears was a hallucination. Her brows furrow, nose scrunching in frustration. The woman across from her tuts. "Now, none of that frowning, you'll get wrinkles," she teases gently, crossing the floor in an instant -truly, it is a small office. Her hand is gentle where it touches Alex's, and then the woman is seated before her, though the podcast host is certain there hadn't been a chair there a moment ago. "You look puzzled, Alexandra. Don't be. Everything falls into place soon enough, just as it is supposed to." She smiles, her hand still holding Alex's and it is hot and it feels like it could scorch a fire through her bones if the other wanted. She remembers being a little girl in the museum, seeing Holly for the first time and how instantly drawn to her she had been, moth to a flame as far as the proverbial metaphor went. Alex doesn't understand. She's a journalist: understanding is what she is meant to do. But the last few weeks, and even the months before it, have seemed to existed outside of the realm of her understanding. She frowns, teeth working at her lip, now conscious of the way that the space between her eyes grows worry-lines. Holly sits back, fingers a slow, electric drag down Alex's wrist, along her leg to rest at her knee. She is lax, calm. In power. "How?" It falls off of her tongue and she struggles for words in a place where there are none. Questions usually come easy for her, she's been doing this job since even before college, writing a newspaper column in middle school when she wore braces and a Blue Jays cap. The Blue Jays were her father's favorite. That cap had been old, and too many sizes to big, but always too small a piece of him. Now, here, with something even more tangible, she still feels out of her element, out of place in the office she has called her own for years. Alex swallows, wishing she had coffee or water or something to occupy her mouth with so she could find time to find the words she needs. Instead, the thought spills out of her like water in an overflowing stream. "How're you here, I don't understand how do you look this way, howisanyofthispossible?" The words come out a babbling, incoherent mess but Holly only laughs, her smile genuine, her presence a gentle, babbling brook and Alex feels the calm as much as she is overwhelmed. "There is much yet you have to learn, young one." A press of a thumb, gentle as it sweeps across her jeans, the way that Holly braces herself to look at Alex and Alex feels naked. It isn't just clothing that seems gone from her - it is skin and sinew and muscle and bone ripped painlessly away and she is bare, her mind and her heart and her soul on full display like an exhibit at a museum. "You've found the Brothers, I see. And the Order. Quick work, I always knew you would do well." "I don't understand." And Alex is frowning now and Holly is laughing in this gentle sort of form that leaves the journalist wondering if she is being mocked or not. "They never do," Holly answers, and there is something devilish to her. She slides closer, her hand slips up as their eyes lock, as though Alex is being asked a question she can't yet decipher. She feels herself drowning, a child again, water sucking her down, down, down, and she can't breathe and her lungs are threatening to burst and- The door swings open. Richard Strand is standing there, a carry-container with two diagonal cardboard cups in his hand. She knows the rich earthen smoke of her own house blend coffee, but not the red that paints his face."My apologies Ms. Reagan," Strand nearly growls, as if he can't control it himself. He frowns, readjusts himself, she can see his uncertainty and the calculation which comes with it. "I can see that I am interrupting." And Alex remembers that hand, and she realizes it, pressed nearly against the seam of her jeans and she swallows so hard it hurts. Her face is a fire engine hue and she can't look at him or at Holly, though nothing has happened, nothing will happen, he doesn't understand. "Richard, no-" But he is already out the door, and a pair of lips are at her forehead like a pagan's charm completed. "Be safe, Alexandra Reagan."
10658448	Lie or Tell	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Hibiki \| Ethan \| Gold, Silver (Pokemon)", "Fandom": "Pocket Monsters SPECIAL \| Pokemon Adventures", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Kaigoryu", "chapters": "8/8", "completed": "2018-07-25", "published": "2017-04-17T00:00:00", "words": "8,783", "Additional Tags": "Complete", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Gold/Silver (Pokemon), preciousmetalshipping - Relationship", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Gold fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, frustrated. Silver was perched on the foot of Gold's bed, feet touching the ground. Silver had been ready to leave a long time ago, but Gold had taken his time, insisting that they couldn't be the first ones at the party. Silver knew the real reason Gold didn't want to go was because he was afraid of being found out, but Silver was indifferent to the black-haired boy's internal struggles, and nonchalantly let Gold prance around his problems while keeping a cool exterior. With their departing time drawing nearer, Gold found that his hands were shaking more than a little. He didn't know why he was so scared about coming out; Silver had never been anything but level-headed towards the whole thing... But Gold couldn't ignore how scared he felt. His heart was beating faster with every minute that passed, because each one brought him closer to the party that could either end his reputation or prove how loyal his friends were. "Relax." Silver's voice sounded almost hypnotic to Gold, like the kind of silky-soft voice that could make jumping off a cliff sound like a good idea. Gold stopped messing with his shirt and looked up into Silver's gray eyes, almost charcoal in the miniscule amount of light being filtered through Gold's window. "You don't have to say anything to anyone at the party. I get what you're feeling. It's normal. We can even pretend to hate each other if that's what you want. But freaking out just makes you look guiltier. So cool it, idiot." Silver's last remark had been muttered under his breath. It was rude, but Gold had learned long ago that Silver only insulted the people he cared about. It was his peculiar, twisted version of a pep-talk. "Yeah," Gold went back to his shirt. His heartbeat had slowed while listening to Silver, and he could now do up the buttons up with ease. Silver stopped him from buttoning the top two. "Looks better." He said in way of explanation. His short sentence told Gold that if they'd been under normal lighting, he could’ve seen Silver's blush. Gold smiled as they walked out of his room, hand in hand. --- "I should head in," Silver whispered almost inaudibly. They had been hiding in the bushes atop of the cliff overhanging Cherrygrove City for ten minutes, watching as many of their friends arrived on the backs of various flying-types. Gold didn't want Silver to go, because it meant a long wait alone, just wrestling with his inner dialogue. But instead of trying something childish, such as clamping onto Silver's hand and refusing to let go, he released it with a forced smile and a peck on the lips goodbye. "Have fun. Don't fight with Green too much," Gold joked, and Silver half-smiled even though Gold knew painfully well that Silver had most definitely not found it funny. Gold watched as Silver held tight onto his Murkrow and fluttered down to Blue's porch, disappearing inside much quicker than Gold would have liked. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- A/N: Wow it has literally been such a long time! Sorry bout that. But hey, I'm back with this story now purely because of my lovely beta RisaKap, who basically planned this story for me and made it really easy to write. Thanks so much! Inside the party, people were already going wild. Silver had been ushered in by a jubilant Blue, holding a stiff-looking Green to her side by a deathgrip around his hips. Silver nodded at Green for show, unsurprised when the older man just seemed to look right through him. He shared a quick hug with Blue, though, who grinned warmly and pointed him towards the refreshments in the kitchen. This house really is spacious, Silver found himself thinking as he walked towards the kitchen, dodging the people dancing and drinking around him. And he was no expert on interior design, but even he knew the house was worth much more than Blue had told him she’d paid for it the last time she’d called. She had mentioned charming the realtor, though… With a start, Silver froze in the kitchen doorway for a split-second. Evidently, “refreshments” meant alcohol, and lots of it. Silver could count at least four underage dex holders intoxicated and he’d literally just walked in. This is gonna be such a long night , Silver sighed to himself, propping himself up in one of Blue’s barstools with a can of Pecha Berry Cola in one hand and his phone in the other. An excited yelling sound came from the entry hall, presumably from Blue. And it just keeps getting better… “Gold!” Silver heard Blue exclaim, and tried not to feel jealous when a gaggle of dex holders in the kitchen burst out to greet him. No one tried to greet me… ...But maybe that was because the redheaded dexholder actively terrified them. Silver was facing the opposite way from everyone else, so he allowed himself a small smirk into his drink. The thought of Gold getting drunk tonight and Silver being there to see and film it? It must be my lucky day. “Silver!” Silver turned towards the voice of what was apparently the only person at this party who was excited to see him… Yellow? “Hey,” Silver mumbled, still a little shocked she’d cared enough to say hi. “How’re things going for you lately?” Yellow asked excitedly, taking the seat next to Silver instantly and struggling trying to get her short body onto the seat. “They’re going.” “Ever the talker, as always,” Yellow commented, slightly annoyed, but she quickly recovered. “Ah, well, I knew what I was in for when I came over here. How’s Gold?” Silver stiffened as non-conspicuously as he could. “I don’t know. Why do you ask me?” “Relax, I just thought he’d update you sometimes ‘cause you’re friends,” Yellow said, looking suspicious now. She leaned forward. “You are still friends right?” “Define friends,” Silver replied curtly, closing his eyes and taking another sip of his drink. “You are so stubborn ,” Yellow replied hotly, slamming her tiny fist on the counter in front of them. “Do you still talk to him or not?!” “Oh. Then yeah, we’re friends,” Silver smirked, and leaned back on his chair. Or something like that. “Talking to you is like interrogating a criminal,” Yellow sighed, hopping off her chair. “See ya around, Silver. Try not to grow a kinder personality before I see you next.” “The chances of that are about as good as you hitting another growth spurt,” Silver responded dryly. “Oh, you are an ass .” Yellow made her leave back into the crowd with a smile, and Silver allowed himself the slightest smile as well. He liked Yellow, and for all he gave her hell, he appreciated that she made an effort to talk to him. Excitement seemed to peak in the next 45 minutes or so. Silver watched calmly from the sidelines, nursing his soda and cell phone as he slowly and smugly watched his fellow dex-holders get shit-faced. He noted with amusement that Gold’s shirt was now four buttons down from where he’d buttoned them earlier, with a fifth one looking like it was hanging by a thread. Silver would so have to tell him what a slut he looked like later… “Silver!” Silver jolted out of Gold-land and spun to face whoever had called him. “What, Blue,” Silver deadpanned. “You almost scared the shit out of me.” “Get over it,” Blue teased good-naturedly. “You’ve faced worse scares than that on the field plenty of times. But get up! We’re about to start the party games!” She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the couch as Silver lamented the soda he’d left behind. “So are we talking beer-pong or something? ‘Cause you know I don’t dri-” “Yes, I know, Silver, you’re too healthy to drink, it numbs your senses, yada, yada, yada,” Blue interrupted. “No, we won’t force you to partake in alcohol. In Truth or Dare on the other hand…” She wiggled her perfect dark eyebrows and Silver groaned. “Aren't we a little old for that? We’re not all 5th grade girls at heart, you know.” “Stop your grumbling. Once I get everyone together, you’re playing and that’s that.” Silver threw his head back and looked towards the ceiling. This really was shaping up to be such a long night. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It took Blue another 20 minutes to successfully round up all the dexholders at her party. Red, Green and Yellow were easy enough; Green would do practically anything Blue said because he didn’t think it was worth a fight, and Red knew better than to resist. Yellow would go anywhere Red went, and soon they were all three sitting on the couch together. Silver promptly made his retreat from the couch to the armchair, and crossed his arms. He thought he saw an annoyed expression cross Yellow’s face, and a confused one pass over Red’s, but really, did they expect anything else from him? Ruby and Sapphire were easy to get to join the game, too, once Blue found them, of course. Silver later found out they were some of the first at the party, and much more intoxicated than most of the others. They joined the others on the second couch shamelessly as soon as Blue interrupted their closet make-out session. Platinum went willingly as well, actually without Blue even telling her. The quiet girl was dead sober, saw people gathering and knew to join, bringing a tipsy Crystal with her. Pearl and Diamond were found playing video games in Blue’s guest room, and were pouting a little after being dragged to the living room for social interaction. Emerald and Gold ended up being the hardest to track down. The two fun-loving dexholders were eventually dragged inside by a fuming Blue, who, after trying everywhere else, found them outside trying to light various food items on fire on her patio. “Sit down! And give me that lighter!” Blue snatched the offending object from a giggling Gold’s hands, and shoved it in her dress pocket. “I should kick you out,” she seethed, clenching her fist. Silver vaguely hoped she didn’t break her own hand from the force. Gold and Emerald just snickered. “Okay,” Blue said calmly, after taking a deep breath. “The party games will now commence! This one has always been my favorite: Truth or Dare!” She looks around to gauge everyone else’s reaction, and not very many people seem excited. Undeterred, however, Blue marches on. “Okay, who want to go first?” After a glance around, Blue sighs. “Okay, so I’m going first. Truth or Dare, sweetie?” Green rolls his eyes. “Truth.” “Why do you love me?” Blue asks with a grin. Silver could see how uncomfortable Green was and wanted to fiercely hug Blue as tight as he could, ASAP. This was gold ! Silver leaned forward to listen. “Um… You’re…” Green looks around, seemingly for answers. Annoyance glances over Blue’s features. “I don’t like how long this is taking.” “You’re assertive,” Green spits out finally, and Silver hears Gold bark a laugh from across the room. “That’s kinky,” Gold stage whispers to Emerald. Green makes a face. “That’s not how I meant it and you know it. ” Green, finally finding his words, turned to Blue. “I love how ambitious you are. I love that you have goals, and you won’t stop working towards them for anyone or anything. Being around you inspires me to get things done, and I appreciate that about you.” The collective dexholders ‘aw,’ and Green gave a small cough. Blue actually looked to be tearing up. Silver raised an eyebrow. So Green did have emotions inside of him. Who knew? Blue sniffed and brings the game back. “Okay, Green, so now you get to pick the person.” She happily cuddled into his side. Green’s emerald eyes scan the faces of the dexholders around him, and Silver feels the hairs on his arm tingle. But then, Silver is safe; Green picks Red with a smug smile. Red leaned forward, up to the challenge. He grins, too. “Dare. Hit me with your best shot, Green.” Yellow looks slightly worried for him. Green thinks it over. “Come over here and be my footrest for a round.” There’s scattered surprised sounds coming from the dex holders, and Silver can hear several comments forming: “Oh, I’d hate to be Red this round.” “I can’t believe he’d even let Green dare him.” “Once again, kinky .” Silver snorts at that one. Red gives an exaggerated, full-body sigh, but good-naturedly follows through with his dare. He gets on his hands and knees in front of Green and gives a small smile when Green puts his feet on Red’s back almost gently. It seemed their rivalry was mostly for show, these days. Red picks Pearl, surprisingly enough, who bravely picks dare and has to perform the chicken dance to the best of his ability for 3 minutes straight. Red-faced from exercise and embarrassment, Pearl picks Diamond and gives him an easy truth. Diamond picks Platinum, Platinum picks Crystal, and Crystal picks Yellow, and then finally: “So, Silver. Truth or Dare?” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Silver bristled, but tries his best not to show it. He kept his arms crossed as he says defiantly: “Truth.” Yellow smiles innocently. “Is there anyone here that you like?” “Yeah, sure,” Silver replies flippantly, and several dex holders lean forward, their interest piqued. Silver internally smirked when he saw the panicked expression on Gold’s face across the room. “Blue’s basically my sister, so I like her, and Platinum's never said anything to me so I’ve got nothing bad to say about her. I count you as a friend, and Crys is alright, too,” Silver finishes, and counts three different people roll their eyes. Of course Silver would skirt the question. But come on . He saw a chance and he ran with it. Silver settled back down into his chair with a smirk. With questions that easy to get out of, maybe he shouldn't have gotten so worked up about this game after all. Silver resisted the devil on his shoulder that told him to pick Gold. It felt like trying to move in molasses, but Silver managed to pick Ruby, who seemed surprised Silver even knew his name. “Me? Okay, dare.” Ruby looked to Silver like he immediately regretted his decision, but Silver wasn’t a terrible person. He didn’t torture his friends for fun, and besides, Ruby had never done anything to Silver. So Silver threw him a soft one. “J uggle all the Poké Balls you have on you.” Ruby seemed relieved, and practically jumped to the task before Silver could change his mind to pick something more cruel. There were a few laughs over Ruby’s attempts at juggling, and Emerald was quick to give Ruby some pointers and demonstrate the proper way to complete the task, which seemed to amuse the dexholders in the circle. --- Gold heard a buzzing sound, and looked down to check his phone. He had one new text, from Emerald. Emerald: You’re staring at silver again Gold frowned, and typed a quick response. Gold: Again?? All I did was look in his direction just now EMERALD: No you were doing it earlier too EMERALD: But twice isnt a coincidence so whats goin on?? I thought you hated him. Did you catch feels?? Gold’s head snaps up to look at the grinning Emerald beside him, furious. Gold wishes he could strangle the little guy right then and there, but that would probably ruin Blue’s party, and that was one battle he knew to stay out of. Taking a deep breath, Gold went for a more humorous reply. GOLD: Okay fine you got me GOLD: I’m staring because he’s got food in his teeth and it’s totally grossing me out. I’ve been trying to telepathically let him know, but I guess the connections bad today EMERALD: Sure ;) ;) ;) Gold again looks up from his phone at Emerald’s smirking face. Gold’s nostrils flare. Emerald just wiggles his eyebrows and types out another text to Gold. EMERALD: Okay fine don't tell me. But the rest of us do have eyes, you know Gold put his phone away into his pocket at this without replying, and tried to settle back in to watching the game. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that to his paranoid brain, Emerald’s words sounded like a warning before the threat. --- The game had proceeded pretty uneventfully for Silver since his last turn, with nothing really interesting happening except for him getting to see Sapphire nearly choke trying to get a whole apple in her mouth, and a curious incident where Gold and Emerald seemed to be having a digital dispute. Silver wondered what that was all about... And then, the inevitable came. “Silver, truth or dare?” Silver internally sighed. Was it his turn again already? Talk about inconvenient. Silver knew after one look at Blue’s face what she was going to ask him if he picked truth. He knew Blue like the back of his hand, and she wouldn’t hesitate to ask him who he liked, and phrase it like a top-notch lawyer so he couldn’t get out of it. Which only left him one option. “Dare.” Silver meets Blue’s gaze, and they both crack a smile at the same time. Blue actually begins to laugh, and it gets them several strange looks from the other dexholders, but neither of them explains and the game moves on. “Trade shirts with someone else in the circle,” Blue says, and then Silver knows he was right. This was both Blue’s backup in case he said dare, and his punishment for not picking truth like she wanted. Silver rolled his eyes and looks around at the dexholders. “Who here wants to trade?” All the girls raise their eyebrows as if to say, ‘Hell no,’ and the boys don’t seem too keen on participating either. But eventually, Red takes pity on the others and takes one for the team. Red and Silver successfully trade shirts, but not before everyone gets a laugh out of Red pretending he’s a stripper and Yellow hiding her face from embarrassment. But meanwhile, while everyone’s distracted by Red’s “performance,” Gold is pretty sure he’s going to die of excitement. Silver was taking his sweet time with the buttons of his shirt, slowly unbuttoning them and keeping eye contact with Gold the entire time. Gold was pretty sure he’d forgotten how to breathe by the fourth button, and that smirk …! Once the trade is complete, neither Red nor Silver look all that different; Red just looks slightly more serious in Silver’s long-sleeved black shirt, and Silver looks slightly more preppy in Red’s navy short-sleeve with the sleeve’s edges rolled up a bit. Gold privately thinks it’s a great look on him. (And thanks his lucky stars that Emerald didn’t catch him staring again.) ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- A/N: I'm sorry this chapter took a little longer! But I've been out of town. Also, there wasn't really a good place to cut it off, so I just let it run. Enjoy the extra long chapter! And a big thank you to my beta RisaKap for getting this story back on track! Gold was getting real sick of this game. It was fun in the beginning, when the others were still into it as well, but it was obvious to Gold now (and surely to the other dexholders as well) that everyone was a little burnt out. Gold was surprised, though, for sure; in his head he’d imagined all the awful things 13 variously drunk dexholders could make each other do and say, but so far, nothing too bad had come up. Sure, there had been some things Gold himself would internally cry over if he had to do in front of everyone, like when Emerald had to kiss every dexholder in the circle on the cheek, but overall Gold found himself pleasantly surprised at the selection. He should have known it wouldn’t last. Gold couldn’t help but feel a little worried and protective over Silver whenever the redhead got picked, and more often than not found himself on the edge of his seat when it was Silver’s turn. As the truths and dares make their way around the room back to Silver, Gold feels the butterflies in his stomach flutter just a little bit faster. “Silver, truth or dare?” This time it’s Yellow asking the question. “Truth,” Silver responds, and Gold is blown away by how cool he sounds. “Who, specifically, do you like, romantically?” A hush falls over the room. Silver’s face had an unreadable expression on it, and Gold can’t tell what he’s thinking. Gold, on the other hand, knows exactly what’s running through his own head, and none of it is calm and good. It’s all fires and chaotic evacuations happening within an instant, and Gold doesn’t know if he wants Silver to look at him or not. Silver doesn’t look at him; in fact Silver seems to be looking anywhere but at him, and Gold thinks maybe that’s for the best, so they don't give anything away. The thought almost causes Gold a heart attack. Silver wasn’t actually thinking about outing them right?! Silver wouldn’t…! Suddenly Silver meets his eyes. It takes everything Gold has not to whimper (although he’d never admit it.) Gold sees Silver’s poker face soften the slightest bit, as if he understood. “Crystal.” Gold is both shocked and relieved at the same time. The dexholders around them burst into various conversations, and the room is suddenly louder than it’d been at any point that night. “Uh, I’m flattered!” Gold hears Crystal say, and sees her reluctant blush in his peripherals. Gold feels a stab of jealousy and he isn’t even sure why; Silver lying for his sake should have warmed his heart more than Crystal being excited over Silver’s fake crush could break it. The dexholder’s chatter dies down as Silver picks the next person, pointedly avoiding Crystal’s gaze, and Blue’s for that matter. Gold sometimes wondered if they knew each other so well Blue could read Silver’s mind though his eyes. Gold forced himself to calm back down, and hoped against all hope that nobody would call him for a couple rounds. Gold found his mind wandering to the beginning of the game. In the beginning he’d picked dare, and had to burp as many ABC’s as he could. A little embarrassing, but he’d been a gross little boy as a child. Overall, no big deal. Then in the next round, he’d alternated and picked truth. This was slightly worse because Sapphire had asked him to describe his dream girl, and Gold’s face had flushed redder than he’d ever felt it. “Um…” He’d stuttered, looking around the circle. He’d known it must have been strange for his friends to see him get shy over an admittedly tame question, but he couldn’t help thinking of Silver. It took all of Gold’s willpower not to look at him the moment the question was asked. “I’d say she’d have to be tall. Not taller than me, of course,” Gold had spared a look at Silver at this point, and seen the redhead looking back at him with a raised eyebrow and a displeased expression. “But tall and thin and probably a redhead would be great for me. And finally, big boobs,” Gold had finished confidently, over the initial shock of the question. He’d felt a twinge of pride at the various groans he heard coming from the other dexholders. But in between his own questions and dares, the game had passed pretty pleasantly for Gold, and at times, much more than pleasantly… Gold was jolted out of his Silver-changing-shirts fantasy by the sound of someone calling his name. “Truth or dare, Gold?” Gold turned his attention to Pearl, who had just called his name. Gold thought about it for a moment, and then decided to just go with dare. He was already set up to keep switching, and it wasn’t like it really mattered to him either way. “Dare,” Gold answered flippantly, and immediately knew he’d regret it, based on the mischievous look on Pearl’s face. “I want you spin in a circle 15 times, and then try to walk in a straight line,” Pearl replied, and Gold scoffs. “Come on, Pearl, is that all you got?” Gold teased. Gold starts the dare, spinning as fast as he can and even laughing a little. This wasn’t even a challenge…! But Gold found walking to be a little more difficult. The world was spinning so fast Gold couldn’t even see where he was going; everything was just a blur of mottled colors until… Gold ran into… a chair? And tripped spectacularly into and over the arm of it at an angle. Gold felt the presence of whoever was in the chair stand up and catch him in an admittedly embarrassing tango dip, and when the world stopped spinning Gold saw that it was none other than Silver holding him in his arms. Silver’s arm was around Gold’s waist, almost completely supporting the other. Gold was gripping Silver’s free arm, and his other hand was resting lightly on Silver’s shoulder. Gold was definitely impressed at how effortlessly Silver could support his weight, but the thought was only a vague glimmer in Gold’s mind when Silver’s grey eyes were right there so close to his face. Gold swallowed as their eyes met, and he recognized the worry in the slight furrow of Silver’s eyebrows. Gold felt a pang of warmth in his heart; it felt so nice to have someone care about you the way Silver did for him, even if the redhead was a man of few words. With a squeeze of his arm and a slight smile, Gold let Silver know he was okay. Silver looks down and Gold grips Silver’s arm in his hand. The thought that they had held this pose for a little too long had just wandered through Gold’s head when a cough and a giggle came from a few of the dexholders behind them. “Ooh, get it, boys!” Ruby calls out, and Silver and Gold seperate faster than Gold even thought possible. Silver rolled his eyes for show and stalked back to his seat, where he sat back down and glowered at his fellow dex holders. Unfortunately, the damage had already been done. “Shut up!” Gold told Ruby angrily, but his red face kind of took the fire out of his words. “Silver, didn’t you just say you liked Crystal?” Red asked in a teasing tone. Silver felt his own face go hot. “Look, I was just trying to keep him from falling on his face. Stop looking into it,” he grumbled. “Right, and that’s why you stayed posed for so long in the gayest tango dip ever.” Apparently even Pearl couldn’t resist making fun of Gold and Silver a little. “It was not gay,” Gold fired back, and his heart sped up as he tried to think of a way out of this mess. “And it wasn’t a tango dip , and I didn’t even need him! I wasn’t gonna get hurt from a little trip onto carpet!” Gold feels a little guilty, because after all, Silver had just been trying to help. But he could apologize later, as soon as all this blew over. “Gold, you were totally about to wipe out,” Yellow reminds him, and Gold knows she’s right. But he can’t admit that now and still win the argument. “I was not ,” Gold insists with a scoff, and the dexholders share skeptical looks at Gold’s blatant lie. “Yeah, sure,” Sapphire cuts in sarcastically. “Why don’cha just thank Silver for saving your butt so we can just get a move on already?” “I’m not thanking him!” Gold replied indignantly, trying to act as disconnected from Silver as possible. “I didn’t ask for his help, and I didn’t even need it!” “Well, at any rate, I’m sure you can find a way to make it up to him later,” Emerald says, wiggling his eyebrows. Gold is speechless. “Wha- No! I hate Silver! He’s the worst!” Silver raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah, that’s what you say to the guy that just saved you. How about you just say thanks already, asshole?” Gold would , later! He hoped Silver wasn’t actually mad. “Not a chance, you dick,” Gold responds snarkily. “I’m not thanking you for something I didn’t even ask for!” Silver rises from the chair again with a growl. Gold knew Silver wouldn’t willingly hurt him, but the dexholders wouldn’t let them forget the tango dip unless something even bigger went down. Gold suddenly knew what Silver was planning, and braced himself. “What’re you gonna do?” Gold asked haughtily, but suppresses a grin. “You really wanna fight right here in front of everybody? ‘Cause I can handle that.” Silver takes a deep breath and shoves at Gold. Not seriously of course, but enough to look like he was really angry. The blow glances off Gold’s shoulder, but hopefully it looked worse from the dexholder’s standpoint. Gold responds with a jab at Silver’s ear, which lands a bit harder than Gold had meant it to. Gold accidentally makes an “I’m sorry” face, which is promptly wiped off by the real punch Silver throws into his stomach as retaliation. Gold almost smiles as he’s reminded of their days as rivals, fighting every time they’d laid eyes on each other. Things have definitely changed since then... Obviously Silver and Gold wouldn’t seriously injure each other, but evidently they did a pretty good job at faking it. After Gold had thrown that first real “punch,” Red, Pearl and Crystal were off their respective couches and chairs ready to intervene, and Crystal was already running to get in the middle of things. “You idiots!” She cried out from in between the two. “Just make up already! What are you even fighting for?!” Silver and Gold were busy making a show of growling in anger and scowling at each other from either side of Crystal, and neither could think of a good response. There was a pause of silence for a moment, where Silver and Gold stared at each other in “anger” and Crystal waited for a answer. The other dexholders seemed frozen in place, or more likely, shock at what the fight had escalated to in such a short time span. Gold let out an angry noise before breaking the silence by saying: “I’m not dealing with this anymore,” and stomping off into the kitchen, slamming the door behind him. With Gold gone the dexholders’ attention turned to Silver. He raised a hand up to touch his smarting ear, and pursed his lips. “Whatever,” he said in a low voice, and stormed out the front door. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Once outside, Silver allowed himself a small smirk. He trekked around Blue’s house and hopped the fence into the backyard before stopping to take a look into one of the windows. He could see the other dexholders conversing confusedly, with worried hand gestures and furrowed brows. Silver didn’t feel bad about deceiving them; he’d never truly cared what most of them thought of him. But he’d talk to Gold about filling Blue and Yellow in later though, because he did actually care about lying to them. Silver stood back up and finished the walk around Blue’s house to the back porch, entering through the back door into the laundry room. Gold was already there waiting for him, wearing a devilish grin. “That was pretty quick,” Gold said, keeping his voice low and tossing Silver an ice pack. “Someone’s eager to make up.” Silver rolled his eyes, but there was no heat behind it. With a small smile he came to lean on the dryer and stand by Gold, who had taken up residence on top of Blue’s washing machine. “Ya know, I saw you staring earlier, at the start of the party. Look that good, do I?” Gold asked jokingly, now tossing his own ice pack up and down like a ball, innocently. Silver snorted. “Okay, first, you had your entire shirt open, of course I’m gonna stare. And second, yes, you did,” Silver paused there to share a heated glance with Gold before moving on. “Third, why is that what you want to talk about?” Silver asked, gesturing to his red ear and the two’s ice packs. That sobers Gold up. “Sorry,” Gold responds with a guilty grin. “But would you really rather we talk about our fight? I’m not proud of it, you’re not proud of it, let’s move on.” Silver pursed his lips. On one hand, he wanted to ask why the hell they had even let it go that far; on the other, he already knew. Gold was still afraid to come out. So Silver bottled any negative feelings right on up. Silver remembered what it was like before he was out completely; wondering when was the right time to tell literally every single person in his life, or if it was even safe to do so. For him, the process took years, and Gold had just started. So Silver was willing to help Gold keep the secret in any way he could. “Right,” Silver finally responded, shaking his head fractionally. “Besides, if we talked about the fight, we’d have to talk about how I clearly won. Despite you not taking it easy and really going for the ear boxing.” “Excuse me , you totally meant for that ending punch to hurt, mister,” Gold joked. “You throw a mean gut jab, by the way.” Silver smiled at the almost-compliment, and found himself once again reminded of their old times, running around as rivals. But Silver wasn't about to let sentiment get in the way of him winning a verbal argument. “You’re in no position to be an ass to me after everything I did for you out there,” Silver says coyly, and sees Gold took the bait when he leans forward with an ‘oh?’ expression on his face. “Now everybody thinks I’m both in love with Crys and impulsive enough to start a fight, and it’s all your fault.” Gold smirks and makes a surprised face. “You’re not in love with her?” he asks with an added dramatic gasp. “I can’t believe you lied during the sacred game of Truth or Dare!” Silver exhales in disbelief. Okay, Mr. “My-Dream-Girl-Is-Female.” Shall we count your transgressions? He thought. But Silver didn’t have a chance to snark back before Gold continued. “Besides, you two looked awful lovey-dovey to me,” Gold ended with a smirk. Silver rolls his eyes. “You’re the only one I love here, idiot.” Hearing that freezes Gold in his tracks. Silver had never said he loved him, ever. Not even when Silver had gotten sick, and Gold had spent the whole weekend at Silver’s house helping him recover. Finally, at the end of the weekend, Gold had laid down next to a dozing Silver and whispered so quietly, “I love you.” Gold knew Silver had heard, because he stopped breathing for the shortest of moments, and Gold thought he could see the faint outline of a blush on his cheeks in the small amount of afternoon light filtering in through the blinds. Gold knew Silver wasn’t ready then for something so high-stakes. And sure, this wasn’t a direct “I love you,” but in Silver-language, Gold had learned, it was more than enough. Snapping out of his momentary trance, Gold broke into his widest grin and practically fell off the washer trying to get at Silver, who seemed confused at what had even set Gold off in the first place but more than fine with the results. With a warm heart and a glowing smile, Gold kissed his boyfriend, hard, for as long as they could get away with. Silver eventually had to be the one to break, because in that moment Gold would’ve been happy enough to stay with Silver in that tiny laundry room for the rest of his life. Gold made a pouty-face as Silver pulled away. “You know we can’t stay in here all night,” Silver commented, using his ‘convince me this is the mature option’ voice. “I mean, I guess ,” Gold said with a huff. “But that doesn't mean I don't want to. A lot.” Silver broke into another smile, and Gold swore the red-head would be able to hear his heartbeat even just one pace away. Silver leaned in for another kiss for the road before turning on his heels and walking out the door, leaving Gold with his jumping heart and a smile on his lips. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Silver left, going out through the kitchen so it wouldn’t be so obvious when Gold left through the laundry room later. He received a couple odd looks when he emerged, and even noticed a few dexholders he didn’t know very well talking behind his back, but Silver couldn’t bring himself to care too much. Silver felt the slightest bit smug, though, at having pulled one over on the dexholders. A miniature tarnish on his already less-than-sterling reputation wasn’t anything Silver was particularly worried about, he thought as he moved to sit down at the same stool he had been at earlier before Truth or Dare. I can't believe it’s only been an hour and a half since I was last here, Silver found himself thinking, strangely nostalgic. It feels more like a lifetime. Silver looked up when Blue joined him at the counter. They had time to share a quick smile before Blue was up to her usual tricks. “So…” Blue drawled with a raised eyebrow, and Silver knew he was in for it. “How’s the party been so far…?” Silver raised his own eyebrow, beyond suspicious. “The party’s been fine. What did you really mean to ask?” Blue sighed. “Blunt as always. When are you gonna hook up with someone?” Silver could have laughed at the hypocrisy if he weren’t so uneasily amused. “I’ve got no plans for that, tonight, Blue,” Silver said, before stopping to consider. “You know if I did I would have enlisted your help.” “Please, I know a silent call for help when I see one. Let me help you get a girl!” Blue looked so excited that Silver decided to let the whole thing play out. It was certainly easier than convincing her he wasn't interested, anyways. The two spun around on their stools to view the crowd of party-goers behind them. From his perch, Silver noticed see a fumbling Yellow in the corner trying to get Red to stop tickling Green, who looked ready to vomit. Unfortunately, the petite blonde was of no stature to stop much of anything, and Silver was more than happy to not step in. With the smallest of smiles, Silver averted his gaze and crossed his fingers Blue wouldn’t see the antic and put an end to it. Not all good things needed to come to a close… “How about Crystal?” Blue asked, excitedly, pulling SIlver out of his thoughts. “You did say you liked her!” Don't remind me, Silver thought, miserably. Verbally, he said, “Yeah, but I don't know if tonight is right. I’m not wearing my lucky socks…” Silver thrust out his leg and gestured at his plain black dress socks, limply. Blue just rolled her eyes. “I know you don't believe in luck, you liar. I’ve known you since you were two and one time you told me that if I consulted my horoscope one more time you’d make me eat my laptop.” Silver put his foot down and snorted. “Oh, yeah. I did.” “Anyways,” Blue continued, with another spectacular roll of her eyes and a flip of her auburn hair. “What’s the real reason you can’t talk to her?” Blue fixes him with a hard stare. Silver doesn’t crack, but he does steal a glance at Gold across the room from over her shoulder. “You know how I don't believe in luck? Well I don't believe in love, either,” Silver recited monotonously. With girls, Silver amended mentally. Blue looked both disappointed and skeptical, in the way that only older sisters can. “Seriously, Silver?” She huffed angrily. Silver only shrugged. “Can I cut in?” Gold asked, appearing in front of them, red solo cup in tow. “I’m surprised you want to be anywhere near Silver right now,” Blue said cautiously after Silver replied with ‘yes.’ “Why are you two suddenly so buddy-buddy?” Silver made an indifferent face as Gold said, “Oh, you know. Teenage hormones and all that. Turns out half the things we fight about aren’t worth it in the end.” “Right,” Blue replied, clearly having stopped listening the moment Gold sounded like he was getting philosophical. “So, anyways, I was just trying to get Silver to snag Crystal but he’s being… himself and he’s not having it. So how about you? Up to a challenge?” “I don’t know…” Gold said uncertaintly. “I think I left my lucky skateboard at home.” “I’m going to skin the both of you,” Blue replied, looking murderous. “I’m so done here. If one of you decides you want to hook up with one of my friends and want their number… don't come find me.” She sweeps off into the crowd. Gold grins at Silver and the newly vacant seat. “Well that went well,” he commented, and Silver leaned back on the counter with a smile. Then Gold’s face droops. “I can’t keep living like this,” Gold says exasperatedly, and then he realized what he said. “Sorry, sorry. I know it’s my fault we’re not out yet. I just don’t know if I can handle it anymore.” Silver is vaguely surprised at how serious Gold sounds, and how unlike himself it is. But he doesn’t have much time to mull it over before a loud cheer makes them look towards the dining room. Or what would eventually be a dining room. Having just moved in, Blue and Green didn't have a table yet, but Silver supposed that was actually a good thing for the game they were now playing. All the couples at the party seemed to have gathered, and were now playing a game where they have to find their partner while blindfolded and making a specific noise. Whoever found their partner first was the winner. “You know, looking at stuff like that makes me hate myself for not just doing it and coming out,” Gold said miserably. And if Silver’d thought Gold couldn’t sound any more serious before, he’d been wrong. Silver placed a hand on Gold’s shoulder as soothingly as he could. “It’s okay that you're not ready,” Silver comforted quietly, absently noting the déjà vu he was getting. “Those games will still exist when you are, and you know Blue will always want us to play them until the end of time.” Gold let out a laugh, and Silver wished he could touch him. “Come on. Let’s go check out the dance floor,” Gold said with a grin, and Silver would’ve followed him anywhere. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Along the way, some of the dexholders they passed gave them confused and questioning expressions, because weren't Silver and Gold having a fist fight and screaming they hated each other not 20 minutes ago? But a stony look from SIlver made them avert their eyes pretty quick. When Gold and Silver arrived at the crowded dance floor, they come to an unsure stop. “Do I dance? I mean, I can’t dance with you...” Gold asked, nervously, as if he hadn’t quite thought about that yet. “...I know” Silver replied after a pause, not sure why Gold was inadvertently rubbing it in. Silver frowned. “Why don’t you go dance with Crystal?” Silver was definitely not pouting. “Are you sure?” Gold seemed to know he struck a nerve, but which one he wasn’t so sure. “It’s fine. I’ll just watch from here.” Gold pauses, searching Silver’s face for a reason why he shouldn’t go. But Silver offered none. “Okay.” Gold made his way over to Crystal, plastering a endearing smile on his face. “Hey, Crys, can I have this dance?” Gold asked charmingly, and the girl Crystal had been talking to, Platnium, let out a small giggle. Crystal was clearly surprised, but eager. “Absolutely! Platnium, can you mind holding my drink?” Platina and Gold make eye contact at Crystal’s word fumble, and Gold instantly thinks, Oh no. Gold had never been good at dealing with drunk people, especially when sober. This dance might not be as heartwarming as he’d hoped. But hey, anyone could mix up a few words, right? Maybe she wasn’t as gone as he’d thought. She’s standing… That’s a good sign, right? Gold took Crystal’s hand with a dramatic flourish, and began the traditional step sequence even though the music playing was definitely more pop-centered. “Wild night, huh?” Gold asked friendily, trying to make a conversation. “Yeah,” Crystal agreed, “‘Specially Truth or Dare.” She let out a giggle. “Yeah, Truth or Dare got pretty heated,” Gold said sheepishly, thinking of his fight with Silver. Evidently, Crystal had been thinking about Crystal, too. But not from the same moment as Gold. “Right?” Crystal said, snapping back to meet Gold’s eyes. “When Silver said he liked me, I didn’t know what to think!” Gold’s eyes widened. He’d never thought Crystal’d bring that up…! “Ha, yeah that was pretty unexpected,” Gold replied as nonchalantly as he could, letting out a fake laugh for good measure. “I mean, he’s attractive, but I’ve always felt more pulled to someone else.” Crystal met his eyes meaningfully, and Gold just gulped. “All this dancing’s making me thirsty. You wanna go get a drink?” Crystal asked, breaking away from Gold with a sly grin. “Yeah, sure…” Gold responded, and fell into step behind Crystal as she pushed through the throng of people around them. Making their way to the kitchen, Crystal was never more than a body’s width away from Gold, sometimes less. And was it Gold’s imagination, or was she running into people just so he could catch her…? “Finally,” Crystal said with a sigh as they burst through the kitchen door. She seemed a little wobbly on her feet, now that Gold could see her in the light. Gold made his way over to the island, where various drinks and cups were out for the guests, but Crystal seemed to have other plans. “You know, I’ve always liked you more than the other dexholders, Gold,” Crystal said softly, almost purring. “What’d ya say to that, huh?” Since when did Crys talk so informally? She must be drunker than Gold thought. If the situation were different, Gold might have even laughed. But she was moving closer now, and with every step she took towards him, Gold took a step back. “Look, I’m really not-” Gold felt his back hit the wall. Crystal’s leg brushed his. “Looking-” Her face was too close to his. She smelled like pure alcohol up close… “Sorry, Crystal, I need Gold for something,” Silver suddenly cut in, and Gold had never been so relieved to see the redhead before in his life. “Silver! We were in the middle of something,” Crystal replied hotly, before pouting and crossing her arms. “Gold was just about to kiss me!” Silver raised an eyebrow skeptically and fixed Gold with a stare. “He was?” “No-No, I just - Gotta go!” Gold grabbed Silver’s sleeve and dragged him out of the kitchen, not sparing a single glance back at Crystal. Successfully back at the stools, Gold declared: “Well, dancing was a disaster.” “Yeah. I hate people,” Silver responded casually, and Gold had to laugh because it was such a typically him thing to say. “The only good part about this whole evening was when we were alone in the laundry room.” Gold’s face took on a mischievous smirk “Well, I’m sure the laundry room’s still available if you want a part two…” Silver’s eyebrows shot up. “Yes, please,” he breathed. And after they’ve made sure no one was coming, they headed back into the laundry room, where it was like nothing had ever happened. Silver pushed Gold back up onto the washer he’d been on earlier, and, blind with his eyes closed from the kissing, started tugging at Gold’s shirt. Gold was just getting into it when there was a tiny squeak behind from them. Crystal, who looked both shocked and like she was about to cry, was standing in the doorway. And then she ran out of the room. “Shit,” Gold whispered softly. He may not like her romantically, but Crys was still his friend and he felt bad she’d had to see that. With one look at Silver, they burst back out into the party. “What the hell were you all doing in that tiny laundry room?!” Blue asked when she saw them. “Washing a shirt. Where the fuck is Crys?” Silver demanded. “She just ran by,” Blue replied, at a loss. “Why? What the hell did you do to her.” Blue went from shocked to suspicious in no time flat. But she never got her answer, because as soon as she’d spoke, Gold and Silver had pushed passed her in the direction she’d pointed, evaporating into the crowd. Following the navy pigtails they’d spotted several steps ahead, Gold and Silver followed Crystal out of the living room and up the stairs, into one of the upstairs bedrooms. “Hey, Crys. We’re sorry, we didn’t plan for you to get caught up in this,” Gold said tentatively, stepping into the bedroom. He paused for a moment, considering his words. “Look, I was just really scared to come out, and that was pretty cowardly, and now you’re hurt. I’m sorry, Crys.” Crystal snivelled and took a deep breath. “No, you weren’t a coward at all, and I’m sorry I tried to make this about me,” she said, eyes averted. “I should have taken a hint or something.” Gold smiled at her, and practically ran across the room to give his friend a bear hug. “Silver, get in on this!” Gold called to the reluctant redhead, who until now had been standing with arms crossed in the doorway, keeping out of the way. The trio shared a wet group hug, from both Crystal’s drying tears and the watery eyes Gold would never admit he had. But unfortunately, the drama wasn’t over yet. “Well,” Blue said as she stepped in, arms crossed. They trio jumped, letting go of their short-lived happiness. “Sorry,” Blue apologized quickly, letting her arms drop. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I just wanted to make sure Crystal was okay.” She turned to Silver and said, “But I’m glad I don't have to kick your ass for disrespecting a woman.” Silver just gave her an amused smile, and they hug, too “By the way,” Blue said softly, “I don't care that you’re gay.” She threw a meaningful look in Gold’s direction. “Either of you.” Gold smiled. Together, the four dexholders headed back out into the party. Silver veered off and separated from Gold, falling back into their routine of ‘I don’t like you in public.’ Silver leaned his head on his hand from his spot at the counter yet again, and watched as all the couples arrived for round two and decided what game they wanted to play. Silver felt a twinge of unhappiness at the sight. “Wanna play?” A voice from behind him asked. Silver spun around, almost falling out of his chair. Gold is standing in front of him, grinning like he did back when they were kids and he had some fun new idea that he needed Silver for to try. Silver found himself at a loss for words as he looked up at Gold. “Are you sure? He whispered, and he was sure his face was more expressive than it’d ever been. “Yeah,” Gold replied definitively, and grabbed Silver’s hand for the first time ever in front of their friends. Silver squeezed it back, touched that Gold had finally overcome his fear of being judged for him. And together, they made their way to the crowd. A/N: It's finally done!!! I never thought I'd see this fic to completion, so if you enjoyed it, for real, thank my beta RisaKap! I'e said this like four times already but it was all them who got this fic back on track and tbh I never would have wrote it without her ideas. So thank you to RisaKap, and thank you to everyone who stuck with this story. Love you all!
10604088	Kylo and Hux in the	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Armitage Hux, Kylo Ren", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-12T00:00:00", "words": "650", "Additional Tags": "Harmoniums, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren, Hux/Harmoniums", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Sirens of Titan - Kurt Vonnegut", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Hux has gone completely insane, Ren thinks. He thinks it because he lacks the technology to write it down, but he would probably follow the erstwhile General into madness if he didn't at least try to preserve the illusion of time passing, of moving towards some tangible goal. So he keeps this mental log of his exploits, dull as they continue to be, actually envisions himself entering words and paragraphs into a datapad and saving each note file, locking it away securely in his brain which thus far has not betrayed him. Although he is occasionally forced to wonder if Hux's lunacy might be contagious.“Do they have to watch?” he asks one night, in bed with Hux in the wreck of the shuttle that brought them both to this barely inhabitable rock... when, exactly, Ren asks himself, it seems like a thousand years ago now. Hux has allowed his boudoir to become infested with harmoniums, and just because the damn things are basically brainless doesn't mean Ren has to trust or like them.“They don't have eyes,” Hux points out, not for the first time. Hux, paradoxically, has taken to exile as joyfully as the harmoniums have taken to him. He's grown sleeker, more languid, let his hair grow long, doesn't shave as often or as severely as he once did. He's put on weight, as well as a knowing and contented air that irritates Ren to no end. In Hux's demented mind, he has everything he's always wanted; he's the ruler of his own small universe at last.“They're everywhere. They're listening to us.” Ren sits up with a sudden twitch of realization, peels a particularly bold harmonium from the back of his neck and tosses it over his shoulder. “You have no idea how much I hate these disgusting things, do you?”“Oh, Ren, for pity's sake. They're harmless.” Hux is absolutely plastered with the things, beaming down at a pair of mature harmoniums attached to his chest, feeding on the beat of his heart. He actually pets the repulsive creatures, strokes gentle fingers over their paper-thin membranes as if they were in any way capable of differentiating between affection and indifference. The sight turns Ren's stomach, but he himself is far too much like the harmoniums; he too clings close to the beating of Hux's heart, he too covets it, gathers sustenance from it. Like it or not, Ren and whatever's left of the once mildly competent First Order general are the only two sentient beings on this far-flung and forgotten planet.“How have you managed to get so fat?” Not a brilliant change of subject, but it distracts Hux momentarily from his precious harmoniums. Ren's feeling up the new softness of Hux's stomach, lightly swatting his thighs just to feel the slight give where before there was nothing but bone and hard gristly muscle. “You're thriving. It's repulsive.”“And you're skin and bone.” Hux reaches up to fondle Ren's chest, which, true, has lost a great deal of definition. His formerly impressive physique has already gone to rack and ruin, thanks to the desperate conservation of rations that's become necessary; harmoniums are indigestible to the point of being poisonous, otherwise Ren would've devoured the entire population by now.“Well, you're free to stop fucking me whenever you want.”“I didn't say I wanted to stop fucking you.”“Of course not. It's far too convenient.” Ren sets about de-harmoniuming Hux with great prejudice, stripping the hated creatures from his skin, taking care not to tear or crumple their useless bodies in his hands but otherwise being as brusque as possible. He comforts Hux's loneliness, and his own, as he has almost every night since their ordeal began, and slips out of their shared bed as Hux begins to snore. The harmoniums return, cover him en masse, gorge themselves on the strident vibrations of his vocal cords.
10661913	Free to a Good Home	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "James Bond, Q (James Bond)", "Fandom": "James Bond (Craig Movies)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by brookebond", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-18T00:00:00", "words": "749", "Additional Tags": "Drabble, Nonsense, Q has had enough of Bond's shit, i have no idea what to tag this, read it and find out", "Relationship": "James Bond/Q", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Diamonds are Forever", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“What the bloody hell is this?” Bond demanded, shaking the offending piece of paper in Q’s face.“I warned you,” Q offered as he kept his gaze firmly on the screen in front of him. He had known it would only be a matter of time before Bond found the flyer, but this tantrum really could have come at a more opportune time.003 was in the field—mission hastily aborted when they were made by the mark—and needed guiding back to safety. It was the reason Q had ventured out of his office, he didn’t want anyone else handling it. Well, didn’t want to put that pressure on anyone else. If MI6 lost an agent, it was going to be on him, not one of his team.“Next left, 003. No one seems to have noticed that your cell is empty.” Q’s fingers flew across the keyboard, his eyes flicking across all the screens in front of him as he tracked 003’s progress. “Right at the end of the hallway, then up the stairs.”Q continued monitoring 003’s exit, checking and re-checking that no one was coming after the agent. It wouldn’t do to get them to the roof and lose them at the last moment.Satisfied that no one was going to burst out of anywhere and shoot 003, Q switched back to the monitor to watch 003 struggling up the stairs. He hadn’t realised they’d been shot in the leg. How had he missed that? “Evac will be on the roof in two minutes. Med team on standby for when you land.”“You can’t just try selling me every time I do something you don’t like,” Bond said the moment 003 was in the helicopter, his annoyance clearly mounting in the time he’d had to wait.Q saved and logged out of the computer, making sure the relevant files would be available to him in his office. “If you read it carefully, you’d note I’m not asking for anything. In fact, it says ‘free to a good home’.” Q punctuated his words by pointing at the flyer where it explicitly said just that.“I do not bleed on everything.”“You did last week,” Q responded, walking back to his office. With his operative safely on their way back to England, he had a report to write up and wanted the privacy his office would provide.“I bloody well did not,” Bond huffed, clearly determined to not let this go.“My cleaning bill begs to differ.” Q paused outside his office, turning to face Bond fully. “If you don’t mind, I have work to do.”“If I find any more of these—”“You’ll what?” Q raised a brow, folding his arms over his chest as he stared Bond down. They both knew it was an empty threat. Bond had no ground to stand on, he was just annoyed that Q had brought their domestic problems into Q-Branch. Admittedly, it may not have been the smartest thing Q had ever done, but he had thoroughly warned Bond that if he couldn’t get his dirty socks in the hamper there would be consequences. It was disgusting and Q wasn’t his cleaner. He already had two cats to clean up after, he didn’t ask for a double-oh agent as well.“Take them down, Q and I’ll cook tonight.”“Cooking doesn’t mean ordering takeout.”“I am capable of more than just takeout,” Bond said, crossing his arms over his chest and crumpling the flyer.Q sighed loudly and held out his hand for the flyer. “I expect dessert.”“Wouldn’t dream of forgetting it.” Bond handed the flyer over, his lips twitching ever so slightly as he pressed a quick kiss to Q’s lips.Q watched Bond walk away—his normal swagger back in place—and only entered his office once Bond was out of view.He sat in his chair, waking up his computer and logging in to start the report on 003’s mission.Q looked down at the flyer he’d made in a hasty fit of rage at two that morning. Free to a good home: One James Bond Bleeds on everything you own Never feeds the cats Leaves dirty clothing everywhere Fairly considerate in bed Gives good massages Yours for the low price of absolutely nothing. Contact your friendly Quartermaster for new ownership. Q smirked and shoved the flyer into a drawer, figuring he could keep it for the next time Bond needed to be kept in line.
10645722	I will come up with a	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Papillon \| Hawk Moth, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Ladybug (Miraculous Ladybug), Chat Noir (Miraculous Ladybug)", "Fandom": "Miraculous Ladybug", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Lila17", "chapters": "2/2", "completed": "2018-03-29", "published": "2017-04-16T00:00:00", "words": "218", "Additional Tags": "Crack, Humor, Short, Akumatized Ladybug, Akumatized Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Akumatized Marinette, probably too many variations of the same tag but, I'm trying to cover my bases, Hawkmoth gets the miraculous, Rated teen for language", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“Yeah, that’s me.”Hawkmoth stopped. “Wait, what?”“I said that’s me. I’m Ladybug. I have the Miraculous right here, if you want it or something-?”Marinette trailed off as Hawkmoth was silent. “You okay over there, Hawkmoth?”Some more silence. A beat passed. “You’re Ladybug. You’re saying I just akumatized Ladybug. You’re Ladybug.”“...yeah?”“holy fuck. holy shit. holy fucking shit”“Hawkmoth are you okay?”“NO, I JUST ACCIDENTALLY AKUMATIZED LADYBUG WHAT THE FUCK"Marinette paused for a few moments. “...Yeah, cool, whatever. Do you still want me to bring the Miraculous over there?”Another long silence.“Yes, please.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chat Noir quickly transformed and flipped open his communicator. "Ladybug! We've got a problem!"There was silence on the other end of the line. "Ladybug?""Can it wait? I'm busy right now.""It can't!" Chat Noir said earnestedly. "There's an Akuma!""Mm. I've heard of that, yes.""Really? You've already seen it? So you're fighting it now?"There was a pause. "Yes! Yes I am. I'm going to Hawkmoth's right now to fight him. Get to the source of the trouble, you know?""Oh! Wow, good plan. Neat. See you later. Bye!""Mm, bye."Chat Noir leaned against the windowsill and sighed for a moment, in awe of the cleverness of his lady. Then he stopped."WAIT A MOMENT-"
10654221	The Drums Of The City	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes", "Fandom": "Sherlock (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by ImpossibleElement", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-17T00:00:00", "words": "1,063", "Additional Tags": "Angst, Weddings, Drug Use, Mycroft Being a Good Brother, Sad Sherlock", "Relationship": "Sherlock Holmes/John Watson", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Hesitant Alien Series", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The Drums Of The City Rain He rang the doorbell at approximately 3:23 in the morning. He was certain the person inside would not be asleep. Not that he particularly cared, anyway. He needed everything to stop, and there was only one person now that could help him.The figure that opened the door didn’t look surprised to see him there at all, yet he looked quite disappointed at the state in which he was. Quickly ushering him in with a mix of worry and exasperation. The detective supposed that was the natural state of his big brother ever since he was brought into the world.Sherlock staggered inside and collapsed to the awaiting wood of the sitting room. He was ashamed to admit tears where running down his face. Leaving his dilated pupils and traveling downwards, only to bounce on the floor like the drip-drop of the rain. His brother watched him loose his composure and then came close to haul him up, placing his slender frame on the sofa.“What have you done to yourself, little brother?” He said as he arranged the trembling form of the genius on the couch. Sherlock struggled to rip his Belstaff off his body and Mycroft had to aid him in the divesting of his more stifling clothes; the high already losing its edge enough to let a consuming sense of impending doom to take over him. Wrapping him in desperation, the tap-tap of the rain sounded so loudly in his head that it just made him want to rip his own hair out.“Where’s the list?” Mycroft asked, and extended his arm so the aforementioned list of things the younger man had taken would be placed in his hand. The paper was deposited just moments after, and the detective could see the astonishment paint his brother’s face at exactly how much was listed. He knew it was wrong, yet with the situation he was currently in, his weak mind felt he had no other choice but to succumb to the bliss of numbness the cocaine provided.“Can I stay here?” He asked, just as a token request, since he knew that now that he had basically dropped himself in his care, his brother would not let him go until he was certain that he wouldn’t be trying that again; at least for the near future. The older man nodded, and without another word he slipped his hands beneath the other’s form and lifted him from the couch. He carried him to his own bedroom and deposited his brother on the bed. Sherlock remembered all those times when he did the exact same thing after he supposedly fell asleep on the sofa when they were children, and he had to transport him to his bedroom, before their parents noticed they were exchanging knowledge past their bedtimes.The curly-haired man looked more like a toddler now than he did back then. Mycroft thought, it was probably the level of vulnerability that had never before been present in the other’s frame, not even when he nearly overdosed. The older sibling didn’t really have to ask for the reason why this time was different; why Sherlock had decided that today, of all days, was the time to finally break apart as he had threatened to do all those other times. Mycroft was totally and completely aware that this had been provoked by the sole and only event of one certain army-doctor’s wedding. Yet, for the sake of his baby brother, sometimes he just pretended he didn’t know. Sherlock was also aware of all of this, of course.The older man sat next to him on the bed, patting his curls. Sherlock shivered and shook, the effects of the down slowly setting in already. “Mycroft?” He whispered, with a small voice barely heard by the other. “Do you want to play pirates?” Sherlock asked, and his brother almost crumbled in sorrow at hearing those words and what they meant. Sherlock was no longer aware of his true surroundings, had somehow reverted to a time when he was happy and carefree. The ginger would do anything to see that happiness in his brother again, on normal circumstances. Right now, it only meant the detective felt wounded and alone, and he could not really do anything to help the situation except from nursing him back to health. The reason why he did this will remain true, and it will continue to hurt him forever.“Maybe later.” He answered, with a kind smile. He knew when Sherlock was agonising it was best not to provoke him, not to antagonise him or question him in any way. Just letting him come back into his skin on his own.A few minutes passed, and Mycroft chose to desert all his other obligations in order to fulfil his main one: being there for his baby brother. He stayed there, watching as Sherlock battled against the physical and emotional pain. If the detective weren’t so miserable and incredibly high, the government official would have said something along the lines of ‘caring is not an advantage’ or ‘I told you not to get attached’ yet he couldn’t bring himself to be that callous. Sherlock loved that ordinary doctor as he had never loved anything or anyone before. If he could, he would’ve stopped ages ago; before it became dangerous, before it even turned into his whole world; but since it wasn’t, he felt it would be needlessly cruel to remind him of the fact.Several moments later, his baby brother asked something he never thought he would hear. “Myc, can you take me home?” He said, his tone shy and filled with sorrow. The older man knew exactly what Sherlock wanted. He wanted him to make it all go away, to let him return to those times when it didn’t hurt as much; it broke Mycroft’s heart that he couldn’t give him that. The only thing he could do was try to bring him back from the abyss in which he resided, to shoo away all those unfamiliar faces in the crowd and to shelter him from the emotional distress he was currently experiencing. Basically, he could let him sleep on his bed and keep vigil on him until he was ready to face the world on his own, and that’s exactly what he would do.
10695723	Fixing Things	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Overwatch (Video Game)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by MrThirst", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-22T00:00:00", "words": "276", "Additional Tags": "Polyamory, f/f/f relationship, Drabble", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Fareeha \"Pharah\" Amari/Satya \"Symmetra\" Vaswani, Fareeha \"Pharah\" Amari/Sombra/Satya \"Symmetra\" Vaswani, Sombra/Satya \"Symmetra\" Vaswani", "Series": "Discord Drabbles", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Fareeha takes a deep, calming breath, forcing herself to relax. Rubbing her face, she steps out of the sunshine and returns indoors to her girlfriends. Sombra has completely dismantled the thruster she's working on and has the pieces scattered in organized chaos across their dining room floor. Satya is still pacing angrily around the clumps, chastising her for her mess. She has her own thruster supported in front of her, twisting it around with the blue beams of light she's using to do... whatever it is she's doing. Her work is impeccable and Fareeha trusts her, but it's a little more relaxing to watch Sombra do things by hand. "Satya," Fareeha says gently from the doorway. Her girlfriends look up together, both smiling when they see her. It makes her heart go fluttery. "Sombra can find things just fine." Satya's face darkens at once, and Fareeha presses on before Satya can accuse her of taking sides, "but Sombra, please lay a sheet down or something next time so there aren't screws and things all over the floor." It's hardly an equal middle ground, judging by Satya's look and Sombra's muttered 'yeah, yeah' as she waves it off and turns back to work, but when Satya shakes her head and summons up a stool to work rather than pacing around, Fareeha decides it's close enough for now. She runs through dinner plans in her head, mentally checking ingredients to make sure she can make something to make it up to Satya. She'll make coffee how Sombra likes it. Then dessert for all three of them. Grinning to herself, she slips into the kitchen to get things going.
10678563	The dark side of the	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Benedikt Höwedes, Mats Hummels, Manuel Neuer, Philipp Lahm, Miroslav Klose", "Fandom": "Football RPF", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Khalehla", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-05-06T00:00:00", "words": "2,821", "Additional Tags": "Character Study, Ambition, German National Team, International Break", "Relationship": "Benedikt Höwedes/Mats Hummels", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "Football RPF Spring Fling 2017", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	It’s late by the time Benedikt said his goodnights and headed to his and Mats' room, satisfied with the amount of socialising and networking that he’d done in the past week.It hadn’t been easy, not with St. Miro Klose the Perfect there mingling with the other players as though he were still a player and not a trainee with the coaching team. Benedikt hadn’t completely minded having Miro there - he, like with most of the players, could find nothing bad to say about their former striker, and Benedikt genuinely enjoyed Miro’s company when they were still playing together for the national team.And there was the truth of it all. Benedikt considered Miro a true friend so long as he was a player. Miro as part of the management team, however, was one extra person that he needed to win on his side in order to maintain his status as preferred - well, behind Jérôme and Mats, anyway - centre back.Benedikt was not blind or stupid. He had a very clear idea of how the national team selection worked, and at this point in time, the Bayern pairing was all but the default centre back duo. He wasn’t happy about this, but he was realistic, and had to learn to play the system to his advantage. He didn’t have anything against his rivals; he’d played with them since youth, won the U21s and World Cup with them, and considered them real friends. Jérôme was a quiet footballer despite his almost rough appearance, one of the true nice guys in the team, always so polite and friendly to everyone. And Mats - although occasionally cocky and sometimes self-centred - was genuinely sweet when you got to know him.Benedikt loves Mats, of course he does. There’s no earthly way that Benedikt thinks that he could not have fallen for the dark defender, but in his bones, Benedikt knows himself, knows the dark side that Mats would never think to look for: the side that could easily cut Mats’ flesh into ribbons and smash his heart into a million pieces if Benedikt thought there was a need to. He loves Mats, but he’s also only human; a human with ambitions and other wants, and what he wants is the thrill of winning. He loves Mats, but he's honest enough with himself to know that he would who would happily and guiltlessly take his lover’s place on the pitch if the opportunity presented itself to him, because to Benedikt, football was about winning, and he wouldn’t let sentiment get in the way, not even for Mats.So he bide his time, was patiently reliable, and was rewarded with being first alternative choice and something of an advice-giver to the national team’s management when it came to team bonding and new player integration, regardless of who the captain was at the time. It’s an extra and somewhat burdensome unofficial responsibility, but one that Benedikt maintains for the simple fact that he knew that Jogi trusted him with the other players’ well-being more so than he did with Mats and Jérôme. This actually mattered in a team overflowing with talent like Germany, and Benedikt was going to ride this trust as his ticket to almost guaranteed international call-ups - which was the closest thing he had to regularly winning.The biggest irony there was that it had been Miro - gentle, sweet, universally loved Miro - who had taught him that good guys didn’t always have to come last; good guys could fight for number one and win. Hadn’t Miro proven that? Miro was a formidable and intelligent striker, but the truth was Miro was more well-known forhis fairplay and for being likeable; his 16 world cup goals were really the only exceptional statistics that the media brought out when they praised his career. That hadn’t stopped him from becoming a legend though, because Miro was officially the poster boy for trophies and accolades outside of having played for a super club like Bayern or having ridiculous statistics a la Messi.And this was even more impressive when one considered the fact that Miro had aligned his entire career to take advantage of his so-called limitations without seeming unattractively over-ambitious. Miro had moved and stayed in clubs whenever it was most advantageous for him, boosting his “good guy” reputation wherever he went, doing always enough to maintain Jogi’s trust and still be called to the national team despite his so-called advanced age. Of course in Miro’s case, his age had worked in his favour in Brazil; Benedikt had witnessed first hand just how much respect the former striker had amongst the younger players especially, and how unwavering Jogi’s trust in him was.And Benedikt had watched and learned and listened to Miro’s advice.“Every player knows that we’ve only got a limited amount of time to make an impact,” Miro had said the night that they’d finally delivered the fourth star to Germany, “and we’ve got to make sure that in that time we don’t waste opportunities. At this stage in your career you should already know what type of path you’re willing to take to reach your goal. How is the footballing world going to remember you when you retire, Bene?”The question had taken Benedikt by surprise. “Well, you know…”“That’s not good enough,” Miro had cut him off. “You’re a product of the youth reforms that are going to almost guarantee that your country at least will always be favourites for a trophy; but it almost means that the position you play will always be four, five, even six players deep at any given time. Will you always be first choice? You can hope; but the real question is what are you going to do if you aren’t? Not everyone is Manu or Fips; not everyone is guaranteed in the starting line up. So what are you going to do about it?”It had been a serious question that he wasn’t really prepared to answer while still being drunk from both the win and alcohol, but it had made him think really hard about it over the months afterwards. What did he really want to do? He was a World Champion now, he could move to one of the few bigger clubs if he wanted to - but then what? Would that affect his chances for trophies with both club and country at all? He probably wouldn’t be considered the same way people were talking about Manuel being one of the best keepers of all time, but that didn’t mean Benedikt wouldn’t try to attain his accolades another way. He knew that his leadership skills at least could get him the type of recognition that Miro’s fair play did; he just needed someone he could study and learn from. Benedikt didn’t even have to look far for inspiration, since inspiration came easily in the form of one Philipp Lahm.They had called him the captain of the future. No longer was the big, brash, alpha male needed to lead a successful Mannschaft; instead they needed someone who was an authoritative figure who could lead by consensus but was firm when he needed to be. And that was Philipp Lahm up to his impressive eyebrows. Intelligent, versatile and close to consistently perfect when on the pitch, Philipp didn’t win the titles and honours that Messi or Ronaldo had, but if there was one thing that the tiny defender had, it was almost universal respect for his unquestionable skill and leadership abilities. After all, one couldn’t take on an exceptionally strong alpha-leader like Michael Ballack for the Germany captaincy and win if one didn’t have the qualities and inner steel to succeed.Benedikt had played with the tiny captain in a few games before Brazil, but it wasn’t until the months-long preparations and tournament that he had started to notice what it was that made Philipp such a commanding presence despite his height.“Some relationships are worth fighting to keep, some you should keep - and that’s a good thing. We’ll never be able to do this on our own, that’s just the truth of it. But Bene.” Philipp had gone deadly serious when saying this. “Don’t ever let anyone tell you - don’t even dare think - that you can’t get everything you want. Those so-called dark feelings that we’re not supposed to have in the best interest of the team - they may be dark but they don’t have to be bad . Learn to channel your strengths in the right way, and you’ll never have to second guess whether you’re being too ruthless. Do you think we go here by being nice? No matter what the media try to portray of us, never believe more than half. Success isn’t dependent on what you’re willing to give - that only leads to burnout. Instead, think about what you’re willing to take . Once you know the difference, you’ll never have a loser’s mentality.”That insight had changed Benedikt’s life, and it’s what fuelled him in all parts of his life, not just football. He loved football, and was intelligent and aware enough to learn early on that the saying “choose your battles” was a practical piece of advice and life motto if there was one.He could claw his way up through the ranks until he made it to the biggest and best club as first choice defender, or he could define success in other ways than trophy counts. And he had made his choice. Be the best in top flight club that he could eventually be a legend in and earn his spot and success in the national team. All in all, it was a brilliant decision on his part. Was he not adored now - both by the fans of his club and the fans of his country? He’d never been booed or had placards made against him, and he was almost 100% sure he would never experience it and never wanted to; being best friends with someone who may yet go down as the best goalkeeper of the current era but who had still endured such hostility from the fans had been eye opening.“You can play the tough guy and act like it doesn’t phase you that much, but the truth is, it hurts,” Manuel had confessed rather morbidly one night when he’d gone home for some work with his charity. “Sometimes I feel like I’m still trying to prove I’m not a traitor. I don’t know what else I can do to make them stop hating me.”“I seriously doubt they hate you; in fact, I think everyone except the die-hard ultras love you. You’ve done everything to prove you’re the best and won everything already; they can’t ask for more from you.”“I wish it was that easy,” Manuel sighed, staring morosely at his hands. “I sometimes wonder if I should have stayed a bit longer - tried to actually win something with Schalke before moving on.”“That would have been an awful idea,” Benedikt said firmly. “As much as I hate to admit this, you had to move. If you didn’t go to Bayern, you wouldn’t have evolved; and without you, we wouldn’t have the World Cup and Bayern probably wouldn’t have won all those trophies either. We needed the best goalkeeper in the world to be the best team in the world, and you wouldn’t have become that if you’d stayed.” Benedikt gently turned Manuel’s chin so that they could look at each other. “I’m not just saying that because you’re my best friend; I really believe it. Sometimes we have to know when to move on, Manu. You did the right thing.”Manuel just smiled. “Why are you so good at giving pep talks?”“One of the many things I had to learn when I became captain,” Benedikt shrugged, releasing his friend and leaning back so that they were both slouching against each other.“Which you never wanted to be in the first place,” Manuel murmured. “I’m so sorry for dumping that on you, too.”“Everything worked out in the end,” was the only response he could give.Everything had worked out in the end. Benedikt would have gladly given up the captaincy and all its responsibilities if he knew that there was someone better qualified than he, but the fact is, there just wasn’t. So he’d taken the captaincy and done his best, still hoping that his best was good enough. He also couldn't deny that being captain had elevated his status at Schalke - something that probably wouldn't have happened so quickly if Manuel had stayed. Benedikt's tendency to stay in the background meant that he would have been happy to be supporting act for the longest time, but Manuel leaving had shown Benedikt that he needed to step up to the forefront if he wanted to achieve all his goals. It seemed to be the right choice so far, because his standing in Schalke was cemented and his right to get called up to the national team was never questioned. Like Sami now and Bastian and Per before him, Benedikt was very much aware that although he wasn't always first choice, what he had to offer the national team was not limited to what he offered on the pitch. Which was something only a few of his teammates could boast. Like Mats.Poor Mats, his beautiful, darling Mats, who despite his brilliance and talent, would always be judged on his bluntness and unfailing self-confidence and be found wanting. Unlike so many players whose arrogance didn’t quite live up to their talent, Mats was different, and Benedikt actually loved this about the other defender; it was this self-belief that actually attracted him to the dark defender in the first place. Unfortunately though, Mats still hadn’t learnt those painstaking lessons that now made him a contentious figure in football. Mats had thought that his talent alone could win him acclaim and acceptance, and that his natural charm would do the rest. He’d been wrong, so very, very wrong, ignoring the long memory that people had when it came to past transgressions - something the dark defender was still paying for even now.“I don’t know what they want from me!” the tall defender ranted that night after making the mistake of reading reviews on his performance. “I scored a fucking goal and all they can talk about is me barely making it back to stop Griezmann - I mean, what the hell do they want? I wasn’t the only defender on the pitch, for fuck’s sake!”Benedikt had put his book down and said nothing, calmly letting Mats vent his frustrations. After a few more minutes of complaining about everything from the state of grass to the demanding media, Mats had finally run out of things to complain about and thrown himself on the bed to lie his head on Benedikt’s lap.“You don’t agree with them, do you?” Mats had asked, a hint of insecurity in his voice.“When are the media ever really generous unless they’re going overboard after a good game?” Benedikt asked running his fingers through Mats’ hair.“They love you. No-one ever says anything bad about you.”“That’s hardly true,” Benedikt disagreed mildly.“They’re never vicious about your reviews,” Mats amended, “not the way they are with me.”Benedikt just hummed. “One day they’ll finally accept just how talented you are and how much you give,” he’d said to soothe Mats’ feelings. “One day they’ll love you like I do.”It had been left unspoken that that ‘one day’ might well be in the distant future when they’d all retired and whoever was doing the reviewing was looking back objectively with the benefit of hindsight. Benedikt didn’t need to point out that Mats may not actually see the day where he was (more or less) universally loved while he was playing - that would have been unnecessary cruelty. Benedikt had genuinely disliked seeing Mats so upset, but it also wasn’t his responsibility to constantly cajole his counterpart into behaving for the sake of earning points with the media. Mats was a grown man who should already know how the game was played both on and off the pitch; Benedikt’s only job was to be there as an emotional support for him when Mats needed him."Thank you for being here," Mats had said then. "Dealing with all this is so much easier when you're with me."Benedikt's responded with another another hum and quick kiss to the forehead. "I understand you Mats, and they don't. It would be different if they saw you the way I did."It was just a shame that Mats was unaware that they didn't understand or see Benedikt, either, for then they'd be truly surprised. But then again, not that many people could see the dark side of the light the way Benedikt could, and in the end, that was their loss.
10629660	The Hero of Hyrule	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Sidon, Link, Prince Sidon, Zelda, Paya, Impa, King Dorephan, Muzu (Legend of Zelda), Divine Beast Vah Ruta (idk if i have to tag the DB but i will), Divine Beast Vah Medoh, Divine Beast Vah Rudania, Divine Beast Vah Naboris, Riju (Legend of Zelda), Teba (Legend of Zelda), Goddess Din, Goddess Farore, Goddess Nayru, Dragon Farosh, Goddess of Courage, Goddess of Wisdom, Goddess of Power, Kass, Kaneli (Legend of Zelda), Bludo (Legend of Zelda), Bolson, Majora's Mask Link, Orcarina of Time Link(s), Skyward Sword Link, wolf link, Twilight Princess Link, Twilight Princess Zelda, Skyward Sword Zelda, Orcarina of Time Zelda(s), Great Deku Tree (Legend of Zelda), Yunobo (Legend of Zelda), Gorons (Legend of Zelda), The Gerudo, The Rito, The Zora, Fi (Legend of Zelda)", "Fandom": "The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by KarkatVantabulous", "chapters": "26/26", "completed": "2017-12-10", "published": "2017-04-15T00:00:00", "words": "85,071", "Additional Tags": "Slow Build, Developing Relationship, Zelda dies, It gets better as more chapters are added, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Death, Mute Link, possibly selective mute link, Depressed Link, Again it may not seem like its a sidlink fic but trust me it is, Zora Domain, Goddesses, Goron City, Gerudo Town, Hyrule Castle, Post Ganon, Post Calamity Ganon, Rito Village, Kakariko Village, Hyrule Castle Town, Link regains memories, Nightmare, in dream death, Flashbacks, Gerudo Desert - Freeform, Death Mountain, friendships, Stress, learning about oneself, Zelda and Link are best friends, I live for platonic zelink", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Link/Prince Sidon, Maybe more will be tagged later, Zelda & Link", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "No Archive Warnings Apply, Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	"Link...do what you must!" Zelda's voice echoed around him as the gigantic eye poking out of Ganon looked around. He gripped the reigns of the Royal Horse tightly as he led it to small hill nearby. The beast reared its ugly head and shot flames out of its mouth, those flames chased the Hylian as he pushed his horse to go faster and faster. Upon reaching the hill he made a sharp U-turn. The horse sprinted as fast as it could and jumped straight off the hill. Link's heart pounded as he jumped off the horses back, caught the wind the flames made, and flew upward. Once he reached the perfect height he let go of his paraglider, pulled the bow of light out and shot a single arrow to the giant beast's eye.The arrow hit the eye dead on. Link's job was done.The Knight watched as Zelda gracefully floated out of the malice and destruction that was Ganon and made her way down to solid ground. He ran to her, Master Sword in hand as the blood of the goddess ran through her veins and made the golden light illuminate her skin as she reached a hand up to the gigantic monster. He stood by her side as she fearlessly looked the beast in the eye. As she destroyed and banished him using the power of the goddess. The reddish burgundy color in the sky cleared up almost immediately and all seemed well.The Princess turned around with a tired smile on her face. "Link...," She took a step forward but her legs gave out beneath her and she fell, thankfully Link was quick and caught her, "Link..." Zelda breathed out. Her smile widened. Link propped her up and put his sword away as he tried to think of what he had on his person that could help the princess. A wild berry crepe? Some monster cake? Fairy tonic? The Princess blinked slowly and stared up at the hero. "Not once did I lose faith in you. I always knew you would come back." Link's mind was still racing. Maybe he could quickly make some sort of elixir? He could use the scales of the dragons and maybe the rare Silent Princess, perhaps throw in a fairy? "The courage in you burns as hot as Death Mountain. You are Hyrule's light. You have saved us, your family has saved us, for countless generations. The royal family is forever in your debt." Zelda breathed out shakily, frowning a bit. "However I'm afraid we may never repay you..." Mipha's grace could heal her. But how could he use the gift given to him on someone else? He couldn't exactly ask Mipha for help... "As strange as it may seem I'm quite happy with this outcome. Calamity Ganon is defeated and all the malice and pain he has brought is gone as well." The princess sighed happily as her gaze shifted from Link to the clear sky."It may have taken a long time. It may have taken the lives of many...the lives of those we care for...but now we can rest easy knowing that the darkness that once loomed over our kingdom is gone and will not return for a very long time. Do you think my father would be proud of me, Link? Do you think...our friends, the champions, would be proud? Urbosa? Revali? Daruk? Mipha? What about the Goddesses? Do you think they're proud of me now? Of us? I guess it doesn't matter if I ask you. I'm closer to seeing them." Tears began welling up in the princess's eyes. She was beginning to question whether or not she was really dying, the talking didn't make it seem so but she knew she was as her body became more relaxed by the second. Link, however, was being thrown into a state of panic. He quickly lifted her up and jogged to the royal horse."Link," Zelda cupped the hero's cheek with her hand, "You have done so much for me, for Hyrule. You've carried an enormous weight on your shoulders and you've carried it well. But now I'm afraid you have to carry one more..." Link shook his head as he rested the princess on top of the horse and climbed on himself. He leaned her against him and kicked the horse, signalling it to start running at top speed down the path. "I will not be fit to run the kingdom. There is no other kin of the royal family...I'm entrusting you," she had to pause for a moment to catch her breath, "to be the next ruler. You must lead us back to our once prosperous state. You must do this, please." Link shook his head rapidly as he tried to decide where to go. Kakariko village? Zora's Domain? Which one had the better doctors? Which one was closer? Rito Village maybe? A stable? Should he just make a break for the shrine of resurrection? Maybe in this moment of desperation the many different shrines could make an exception this one time and allow Zelda and himself transport to different locations using them? Without thinking about it any further he guided his horse to the path that led to Kakariko Village."Please Link, your are Hyrule's final hope. And thank you. For protecting me all this time." From there on until he reached the village, everything seemed to go slower. He continued signaling to his horse to go faster but it didn't seem to go any faster. His heartbeat however, was racing. Perhaps faster than the horse. No, definitely faster. All he could think about was himself really, and how he had just failed the only thing he had to do in life. Here was Link. The Hero of Hyrule, holding the unconscious princess in his arms. He didn't want to think about how he couldn't feel her breath on his arm or how limp she was. At one point he let go of the reigns and shakily pulled out some fairy tonic to try to desperately make the limp princess drink it in hopes of it working.It didn't.Racing into the village, Link paid no attention to the villagers or the travelers as they jumped out of the speeding horse's way. He paid no attention to them as he leaped off the horse with the Princess in his arms and ran up the stairs to Impa's home. The only thing he did pay attention to was how Impa had apparently instructed Paya to prepare a bed right under the painting of the battle ground where the guardians rested. The second Link laid Zelda down Paya hesitantly shooed Link out of the house as Impa slowly stood up and walked to where the princess was laying. When he was locked out the house he was mobbed by a crowd of villagers who asked Link to clarify who the girl with blonde hair and a dirty white dress was. He didn't speak however (not like he ever did), he just stood there and stared at the door. Eventually the crowd disbanded and Link still stood there. The Korok that usually hung around the small statues waddled over and brought him an apple at one point and Link accepted it however he couldn't exactly eat it. He squished the poor fruit, leaving him with apple juice all over his hands and an extremely disfigured apple in his fist. Finally, after what felt like an eternity Paya opened the door and allowed the Hylian in.Zelda was still laying there. Her hair was combed and a flower crown made entirely of silent princesses decorated her head. Impa sat in her usual place and beckoned Link forward."I'm sure you know what I'm about to say, Link." He nodded slowly, his hands clenching into tight fists. It was difficult not looking over to the princess and it was difficult to resist the urge to burst into tears but he did resist and stayed as stoic as ever. "Now don't beat yourself up over it. You did everything you could. And judging by the way her mouth was tinted pink you still tried to do more. Her death had nothing to do with you. Spending one hundred years constantly using a godly power depleted her life span, but she hung on long enough to...," the old woman sighed, "to fulfill her true duty." Out of the corner of his eye Link could see Paya cover the princess's body with a golden sheet before heading upstairs. "Link," Impa stood up and walked over to the knight, "before I go any further just know that I think you will be a fine ruler to Hyrule." Link blinked and looked at the woman in slight confusion. She smiled warmly, yet there was a hint of sadness there, and responded, "a hundred years ago when it was you on your death bed, Zelda sent a message to me saying that if she did happen to perish at any point and you did awaken from your slumber that you were to be the next ruler. I can only assume that she told you this before she took her place among the Goddesses."Paya walked back downstairs, a bag strapped onto her back. Impa walked over to her granddaughter. They spoke for a moment before Paya hesitantly walked over to Link, hugged him briefly, and quickly ran out the house. Impa returned to her seat."I just sent her out to the Dueling Peaks Stable. She'll return shortly, she's only going to hire a couple of the stable workers to ride around the kingdom and deliver messages to the smaller towns...to prepare for the Princess's funeral. Now your task is similar. Only you will visit the Divine Beast's homes and notify them." Link nodded though the look of discomfort on his face was quite obvious. "I understand. You believe I am going a bit too fast and not exactly allowing you to mourn for Zelda before already making preparations for her funeral, correct?" Link nodded a bit. "Again, I understand, but we must...we must start now. I don't enjoy saying this but planning this will be both a distraction and help us deal with the fact that one of the survivors of the Calamity is now gone. It will be good for the kingdom and it will be good for you. It may not seem like it now but believe in me when I say it is." Another nod from the knight and Impa patted his arm. "That may have sounded harsh just plain unemphatic but please, put some faith in me." Link stood silently and waited as Impa slowly made her way upstairs and back downstairs. She returned with a small, light bag. She explained that inside of it were just some letters explaining the current situation. Link was to deliver the messages and answer any questions if he could. Of course he wasn't obliged to, Impa clearly explained in her letters that the poor boy just had the princess die in his very arms and he shouldn't be pushed to answer any sort of question if it made him uncomfortable. The old woman smiled and handed Link a small covered pot which contained some nice meaty stew. It wasn't anything fancy but Link smiled and hugged her, grateful for the gift. "Go on now," Impa led him slowly to the doors, "I will wait for your return but for now I will say goodbye and I'm sorry." She hugged Link tightly, the gesture making Link tear up just a bit before letting go, smiling warmly, and closing the doors behind him. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The Zora Domain wasn't very far Kakariko Village yet it took Link approximately two and a half days to reach it by horse. Maybe it had something to do with the consistent rain (which hopefully wasn't caused by Vah Ruta), maybe it had something to do with the fact that Link didn't really make his horse run and instead allowed it to walk slowly. Either way, his journey was mind numbingly slow but that didn't seem to really bother Link. His mind was empty which was nice for the time being. He knew that very soon he would have to face the entire Zora kingdom and confess that he allowed another princess to die an early death. The royal horse neighed and backed up slightly. Link looked up and sighed. He reached the point where he couldn't take his steed with him due to the steep rocks blocked the path. Slowly he dismounted the horse, fed him a couple of carrots and apples, before making his way over the rocks and down the path.Walking the path was an easier task than before. The many electric based monsters that once inhabited nearly every inch of this trail were mostly gone and whatever few stragglers were left kept to themselves. Occasionally a Lizalfos would feel cocky and hiss at him as Link trudged on by. Other than that they caused him no trouble.The smell of fish was getting closer with each step. Only now was it hitting him that he had no clue what to do. He didn't know how to tell the Zora King that their last hope of surviving and thriving as a kingdom was dead and that Link was the "new" hope. He didn't know how to deal with the fact that the Zora elders would most likely be enraged and go back to loathing Link the way they loathed him when Mipha died.Don't think about that. Link thought to himself. His hands were already twisting into fists and he was inadvertently holding his breath. "Just breathe." He breathed in slowly and closed his eyes, stopping for a moment. Calmly think about the situation. Zelda was dead, she died in battle. Her last words instructed Link to protect and rule her kingdom. Link now had to tell the leaders of where the Divine Beasts resided. Think of a reasonable way to handle this. He had to stay calm throughout the whole encounter that was certain. He couldn't break down into tears while he tried to desperately sign out the Princess died. He had to explain exactly what happened. No, first he had to give the King the letter Impa wrote. That was the first thing he had to do. The rest was up to how the King reacted.The Hyrulean champion began walking once more as he played possible scenarios in his head. Each one however, was stopped short as that little voice of reason continued to remind him to stay calm in this situation. As he finally reached the long bridge leading up to the Zzora domain Link felt his heart drop into his stomach. Even from so far away, he could make out Sidon. He was blurry but it was without a doubt him. His lip quivered and tears clouded his vision. It was hard already and Link hadn't even fully entered the domain. He just couldn't face them. He couldn't face the smiling prince, always so happy to see Link and so encouraging, he couldn't look at him and the King and say he failed in protecting the princess. He just couldn't. But he had to.Deep breaths. Calm down. Think rationally. The black hood he had bought in Kakariko village at the beginning of his journey oh so long ago and used in the desert to protect himself from the rays of the sun was now being pulled up onto his head. Right now it would protect him from the peering eyes of the Zora. If Link knew they couldn't see his face properly he would be less likely to cry. He was the brave warrior and knight after all. He couldn't cry, at least not here and not now. Another deep breath. Happy thoughts. A nice afternoon on the beach, nothing but the waves and horses and all the sweets he could eat. Perhaps some rock climbing. Defeat a couple guardians, hunt a little. Once his nerves were put to rest and Link regained his stoic expression he began swiftly walking across the bridge.The Zora domain was as busy as ever, especially now. Everyone one and their mother had seen the four divine beasts shoot out powerful rays to Hyrule castle and had more than likely seen the gigantic boar-like animal made out of the pure rage and malice of Calamity Ganon follow tiny Link around Hyrule field as he shot out light arrow after light arrow at the beast. And they had most definitely seen the gigantic orb of golden light engulf the boar before quickly banishing it. And now everyone obviously knew that Calamity Ganon was defeated and a new chapter in Hyrule's history was just beginning.The inhabitants of the Domain were instructed not to bother the King at the moment. He was busy discussing pressing matters regarding what the next step would be. Obviously now that the biggest threat was defeated and the amount of monsters went down drastically this meant the Zora could expand the way they wanted to over a century ago. Perhaps going to Lurelin Village would be the best to start off? Maybe they could meet up with Gerudo representatives and have some sort of man-made lake created near the town so more Zora women and merchants could make the trip over without dying? Maybe some kind of heat resistant garb specially made for Zora's could be created so they could expand their trade routes with the Goron? These questions were hurdled at poor Prince Sidon as he stood helplessly in the middle of the his people. He tried his best to answer one question but every time he did, another would ask something else and then another and another. He was left in an endless cycle of attempting to answer one question before getting cut off."Your Highness!" Sidon looked up momentarily to glance at the guard who had called him. The Zora guard pointed to an approaching figure. Sidon squinted, seeing a blur of blue and black before making out the small Hylian Champion."Pardon me," Sidon slowly walked out of the crowd, "but we seem to have a very important guest. Now, don't worry! All your questions will be answered! I suggest you all write them down and we will have an official meeting on the Zora's future!" As Sidon turned, another citizen spoke."But how soon in the near future, sir?""Very soon, now please excuse me.""But wait! Wouldn't it be easier to discuss this now? We're all here and we have our questions ready! We would just like some answers!" The Zora prince sighed and looked over at the approaching Hylian. He has approximately thirty seconds to get his subjects to disperse before Link made it past the guards and officially into the Zora Domain."It would be easier but I'm afraid I do not have all the answers. I'd have to discuss certain things with the elders and I'm sure you'd feel more confident in hearing about our near future from the King. Sadly he is unavailable at the moment so this will have to wait another day. Now, excuse me." This response seemed to satisfy the group of Zora surrounding him. They soon dispersed and gave Sidon one second (more or less) to compose himself before Link stopped in front of him.The Hylian Champion stood a few feet in front of Sidon. He tilted his head up slightly and stared up at the handsome Zora. Sidon was smiling down at him and a moment later he was kneeling so he could be eye level with Link. Link balled his hands into fists as he resisted to urge to tear up. Not here, not now."Link! My dearest friend!" Sidon threw his arms around the other and embraced him. He was a bit damp from an earlier swim but at least he didn't smell too much like fish. "I'm so very proud of you! You've done it! Thanks to you and the princess we are all free from Ganon's clutches! I knew you could do it!" Link couldn't help but smile just a bit at that. "Now, where is Zelda? I would've assumed she'd accompany you to the Domain. Is she perhaps in waiting at the horse stable nearby or a village?" The smile from earlier faded and Link shook his head. "Oh, then where is she?" He debated telling Sidon now but he shook his head again before responding in sign language."I need to talk to the King. It's urgent." Sidon blinked in confusion."The King?" He stood back up, towering over Link once more. "But why? Not that you can't. Well technically you can't, he is busy, but I'm sure he would love to see you.""Good," Link walked past Sidon and up the stairs to the throne room, "it's urgent.""Wait!" Sidon jogged after his friend, still very very confused. "I don't understand, why exactly do you need to see my father? Is something wrong? Did someone get hurt?" Link bit his lip and waved his hand, trying to dismiss the question. However Sidon persisted. "Was...was he not defeated? Has he been unleashed onto our world?" Link shook his head rapidly and quickened his pace. "Then what? What is important? Please tell me, you're starting to worry me." Link waved his hand again, trying to dismiss the issue once more. "But Link--""Ah, the Hylian Champion!" The Zora King's voice boomed throughout the throne room as Link scurried forward and bowed his head in respect. "I'm so very glad you are here, and you seem to be nearly unharmed. What an amazing outcome!" The King smiled down at Link who kept a straight, emotionless face. "I am so very very happy to see you unharmed again. You are truly a huge member of the Zora Domain and my family and it would've impacted us all if something were to cause you harm." Link nodded stiffly."Now then," the King reclined in his throne and rested his chin on his palm, "what has brought you to our humble abode? Is it perhaps the Princess? It's been a long time since I've seen her, where is she?" Link reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter with King Dorephan's name on it. His hands shook as he slowly passed the letterover to the Zora King's larger hands. Sidon noticed how vulnerable Link seemed at the moment and found it quite odd. Link was never like this, at least not that he remembered him being like this.The King squinted as he read, old age had taken its toll on his eyesight. However, even if the words did seem to blend together at times or even if they seemed a bit blurry he read it all. Every last word. Every detailed instruction Impa had given him. Now, King Dorepha respected Impa. She was a very wise woman who had advised the King of Hyrule himself on what course of action to take on certain things. She was one of the few elders that hadn't gone completely mad due to the Calamity and was adored by every race in Hyrule. However at the moment he seemed to be doubting his faith in her."Everyone except Link, please exit the room immediately." The Zora guards nodded and almost immediately left the throne room. Sidon was more...stubborn."Father, may I ask what this is all about? What is in that note?""Sidon, one day you will be King and you will have to face many hardships and difficulties. However right now you needn't worry. So please, step out. Soon enough you will know but now is not the time.""Father I refuse. Link is a dear friend of mine and he is clearly distraught over whatever is in that letter. Please, just explain--""Sidon enough." The King raised his voice just a bit but that was enough to echo throughout the room. Sidon blinked, looking hurt for a moment, before nodding. He slowly exited the room in defeat. Link gulped and looked straight ahead at the King's belly, he didn't want to make eye contact."Now then," King Dorephan sighed, "this is...quite the worrisome news now isn't it?" Link nodded. "Are you...well enough to answer questions my boy?" Another nod. "Good. Now then, first off, you are sure the two of you defeated Calamity Ganon before the princess met her demise?" Link bit the inside of his cheek and nodded again. "Good. I'm glad. Do you...do you believe you can handle the task of leading Hyrule?""I believe my task is to protect Hyrule kingdom and all it's people as best as I can." Link signed. "It is in my blood and it is something I can't escape.""Yes yes well good for that but I was asking if you believe you can handle the task. Not that it is something you believe you have to do due to your background. Being a King isn't easy work, son. Now I am not saying fighting Ganon was simple but having the mental stability to rebuild and run a kingdom is needed. And, not to be rude, after what you have been through I do not believe it is a goal you can reach.""With all due respect your highness I believe I am up to the task. I don't feel like my mental health is an issue and I've certainly proven to the nearly everyone here that I have the capability to take charge. The Princess left me this task and as her appointed knight it is my job to honor her last wish until I breathe my final breath." The King let out a gentle laugh and nodded understandingly."I understand, Link. I won't stop you from finishing the last wish of the last Princess of Hyrule. However I would just like you to know that if things do worsen for you us here at Zora's Domain, more specifically I myself, will always be there for you. We will be your most faithful ally for many years to come. And please remember that even though this job was placed heavily on you, you are not alone. Just how you weren't alone 100 years ago in defeating Ganon and how you weren't alone in defeating Ganon now." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "What do you mean the Princess is dead?" Sidon whisper-yelled to his father as to not let any eavesdropper hear."I mean Princess Zelda died heroically just after she and her knight defeated the Calamity." King Dorephan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose."How?! I just, I can't believe this has happened. After so many years she's dead? How?""Yes Sidon. After a century of battle is seems she has perished and has left Link to be the only remaining member of heroes from long ago.""But how?! She couldn't of just...collapsed. Could she? What did Link say?""He said nothing. I was not going to push such information out of him." The King turned to his distressed son. A sudden, and small, wave of sadness washed over him as he studied Sidon's face. Clearly he was upset that Link was upset even if he didn't fully understand why Link was upset. Dorephan had only told Sidon so much about Link's situation. "Clearly the boy is heartbroken over this whole thing. He couldn't look at me properly and he seemed to be speaking in a more formal tone than what I'm used to. Even when he woke up from the Shrine of Resurrection and had no memory or knowledge of me other than the fact that I'm a King he spoke more casually. Now he speaks as if he were programmed. It's a shame really. This is taking a toll on him.""Yes, clearly." Sidon sighed and paced the area in front of his father. "Does Muzu know? I do hope he doesn't turn the Princesses death into such a deal as he did with Mipha's." Sidon groaned at the thought of the Zora elder acting as childish as he did when Link first arrived. Surely Muzu had to know that if he did behave in such a way in this situation it could embarrass the whole Zora's Domain and the royal family, right?"Muzu is not aware yet and I am certain he won't act that way. The death of our dear Mipha affected him more because of his bond with her. Zelda's death will upset him but he has learned from his previous actions and will act like an adult.""But how can you be so sure father?" Sidon stopped his pacing and looked up at the King. "Perhaps I should have a word with him. I should warn him of the consequences if he were to even think that way." "Sidon," King Dorephan spoke in a gentle tone, "I understand. You and Link had a friendship when you were a child. You looked up to him and you still do.""Well yes but I don't see what this has to do with anything." Sidon interrupted in a bit of a huffy tone."Allow me to finish, son. You care for Link the way you cared for Mipha. Both held and will forever hold a piece of your heart. When they were both deemed dead one hundred years ago those pieces of you were lost as if thrown into the Great Hyrule Forest. And now that one of those pieces has returned you feel the great need to protect him however way you can. That is what you're doing right now, you're trying to protect Link in whatever way you can whether it be offering moral support or harassing your elders." Sidon stood there, mouth slightly agape. He wanted to respond with a snooty no I'm not but he was doing exactly that and he knew it. "Now how do you know this?" Sidon asked. His voice quiet though it still hold the attitude from before. "Because I am your father. It is not only my sole duty to manage the Zoras but understand my own child's feelings and help him. And my own mother was a very compassionate woman and a very gentle soul. As the Queen she used that compassion to rule the kingdom. As did your mother." King Dorephan chuckled lightly, the memory of his wife bringing happy memories back. "Your mother was a very kind Queen indeed. Showed me how to see the signs of distress or anything really on ones face." "Now then," The Zora King spoke, changing the subject, "I believe that if you so wish to help Link with his own feelings you must do nothing to rash. In fact, perhaps not mentioning this to him at all would be best. Now before you interrupt, let me explain. If you were to remind him of what has happened while he is still trying to process all this it will only make him want to spend more time in isolation thus causing you to worry for his well-being even more." Sidon nodded slowly. "If you were, to say, leave the topic alone for a while it may help him come to terms with certain things and then he will be more than willing talk to you about all the different things going on in his mind.""Now I'm not saying to never talk about it either," The King explained to his son, "Just don't try to push the topic and if others do push the subject then perhaps if you're around you can do him the favor of swaying the conversation to a different direction. You see my boy, it's all about making him feel comfortable enough to talk. At least that is what my mother and my wife would say." "But how will I know he's ready to talk?" King Dorephan smiled and leaned down, patting his son's shoulder with one gigantic hand."I'm sure you will know when. Now, if I remember correctly I sent our Hylian friend to Shatterback Point so he can calm his nerves. The view there is quite relaxing. And I'm more than certain he has slain every monster there in a fit of confused emotions so you should be safe if you happen to decide to venture up there alone. Although if you do go alone please be sure to take a weapon of sorts for added protection." Sidon nodded and turned around, jogging out the throne room. "Oh, and son could you please let Muzu know that I would like to host an emergency meeting with the elders immediately. Thank you, my boy." - - -The wet Zora armor stuck to Link's skin, making him uncomfortable and cold. However it didn't matter much. King Dorephan was right, the view definitely helped ease his nerves...as did defeating the Lynel that has been tormenting this part of Polymus Mountain. The rain from earlier (which thankfully was natural and not caused by Divine Beast Vah Ruta) was actually a great way for Link to get into the fighting spirit. Not that he needed much in the first place.Vah Ruta had moved from her spot on a rock near the Domain back to the East Reservoir Lake. The sun was setting and it seemed like she was settling under the water. Earlier the Divine Beast had been walking around in circles, a loud trumpet coming from her every so often. No one really knew if this was normal behavior but they didn't think much of it. The Divine Beast was no longer under Ganon's control so there was no need to worry.Link sighed and closed his eyes, letting his mind wander. He recalled the time when he first awoke from the Shrine of Resurrection and when he met the last King of Hyrule who told him of his fate. At the time he had no clue what it his fate was meant to be, even if the King clearly explained, but now he here was. Divine Beasts and guardians taken back and the Kingdom back to its previous state of peace. He had to admit, he was kind of proud of himself. He went from looking at an apple and thinking "What in Hylia's name is this?" to having a mental image of what all of Hyrule looked like and where the areas where the most monsters camped out. It really was quite the accomplishment, in his eyes at least.A loud and low rumbling resonated throughout the Domain but Link kept his eyes closed. It was probably just Vah Ruta roaring out from underneath the blanket of water. However the rumbling only grew louder and louder until suddenly Vah Ruta broke the surface of the Lake. A loud and clear trumpet resonated from the mechanical elephant now making Link open his eyes. The little sun light that was left illuminated the already slightly glowing beast giving her a bit of an eerie look. It didn't help that Vah Ruta was staring directly at Link. The Hylian Champion raised an eyebrow and stared right back at the Divine Beast. Not a moment passed and she raised her trunk, letting out another trumpet, and turned around. Link stood up immediately once he saw the Divine Beast on the move again. Confusion flooded his mind, why was she moving? She couldn't of been under Ganon's control. Link just defeated him. He squatted down just a bit, calling upon Revali's Gale to gather the wind under his feet to create a powerful updraft."Link!" Sidon called out from behind him. The Prince made the journey up the mountain for the sake of his friend but it seems his plans were to be pushed to another day. "Link, wait!" Link jumped up into the air and away on the parasail. He floated after the Divine Beast as she sank down under water once more but the air bubbles gave away her path. Sidon was breathing heavily, he wasn't accustomed to running up steep hills. But that couldn't distract him now. He quickly gathered his breath and energy before running to the edge of the cliff and jumping off. Sidon being, well, Sidon, he landed perfectly into the water with no injury. As he poked his head out of water he could barely make out the small dot that was Link in the air far ahead of him. He spent all of one second gathering every ounce of energy from himself before he swam at top speed to the dock that connected to a bridge which connected to Zora's Domain.The residents of Zora's Domain were all already causing a bit of a panic. As Sidon ran up the stairs to the throne room questions were launched at him about what was happening. The prince ignored every single one."Father!" Sidon yelled as he slid into the throne room. The meeting with the elders was still going on, or at least it was until Sidon interrupted. "Divine Beast Vah Ruta! She is on the move! Link is currently on her tail!" The elders in the room all looked to King Dorephan for instruction which he had almost instantaneously. "Gather as many Zora Guards as possible and have them locate Link. They will follow our Hylian ally and protect him if needed. And-" "May I go as well?!" Sidon interrupted once more although it didn't seem to bother the King at all. "I was about to say, Sidon you may lead them. It's high time you learn to lead your people in a fight. Now this may not necessarily be one but it is good practice. And if all goes downhill Link will be there to give instructions as well." Sidon smiled, thanking his father in a rush before running out the throne room and commanding that every available guard meet him in the rivers that lead to up to their Domain. Within minutes Sidon was leading the formation of Zora Guards down the river. Vah Ruta was now making her way onto land and Link was still floating close behind her. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Link was gradually losing altitude the more he floated in the air but that wouldn't be an issue. Before he got too far he briefly let go of his parasail, whistled for his horse, and pulled the darn thing back out and continued floating along. The Royal horse was running just behind the Zora who were all on land by now. The clouds up ahead covered up the sun so thankfully they didn't have to fear the heat of the sun. Vah Ruta continued walking along, roaring as she went. She didn't seem to have any intention to hurt anything or anyone so Link supposed this wasn't a real threat at the moment. Then again, she was just a giant mechanical beast. Anything could've gone wrong and she could snap at any time. Just as the thought crossed his mind, another roar echoed across Hyrule. This time it didn't come from Vah Ruta. It came from across the field. Link looked over but could hardly see anything, a gigantic sand storm appeared to be making it was through a nearby field. Except this was no ordinary sand storm. Divine Beast Vah Naboris emerged from the sand and let out another shriek as she walked towards them. Link's eyes widened slightly at this. What the hell was going on? Another roar and Divine Beast Vah Rudania jumped down onto the field from a mountaintop. His pace was quicker than the other two and he easily caught up with Vah Ruta. Vah Medoh was the silent one. Out of all four he didn't make his presence known until the very last moment when he was already flying directly on top of everyone. He silently emerged from the cover of clouds as if some sort of ghost. When he was low enough he let out a shriek of his own. "Prince Sidon!" A Zora guard yelled over the sound of stomping. "What's happening?!" Sidon couldn't answer. He was too...shocked. All four Divine Beasts were walking together towards what seemed to be Hyrule Castle. Not a single one donned the purplish-pink glow that gave away the fact that Calamity Ganon had control over them and yet it seemed like they were being controlled by someone. A brilliant white horse ran at top speed in front of his Zora crew just as Link let go of his parasail. The Hylian Champion fell a height from what seemed to be level with the upper leg of Vah Ruta onto his steed. He kicked his horse and the two speed off. "Prince Sidon!" Another Zora called out. "Should we abandon this mission? Should we go back and request more help?" Sidon remained silent. He wanted to swim back to Zora's Domain, Hylia knows he did, but he didn't lead his guards back. Instead he continued running after Link. Eventually though, they would get tired. Yes the Zora had stamina to share with all but they still had their limits. Sidon only hoped that the Divine Beasts would stop before that time came. "Prince Sidon!" A different Zora called out this time. Honestly Sidon was getting a teensy bit annoyed with this. "An unexpected rolling sort of thing is moving towards us. It's approaching fast!" What? Sidon turned around only to look straight ahead a second later. Giant rolling boulders were rolling towards Vah Rudania. One of them seemed to be glowing a faint red. "Your highness, those may be the Goron! Do we continue after them?" Yes, of course Sidon was going to make them continue after them. "Yes my fellow Zora! Continue after them. We will not stop until our mechanical allies do!" Some of the guards groaned quietly but didn't argue. They, thankfully, didn't have to run for too long. All four Divine Beasts eventually stopped close to Hyrule Castle at what seemed to be an ancient ceremonial pedestal thing. Sidon really had no clue what it was but he faintly remembered Mipha mentioning it once. He believed Link became a full member of the team of champions here. The four Divine Beasts stood a respectable distance from the pedestal and just...stood there. Silently. Sidon supposed perhaps they were waiting. In the commotion they caused the Gerudo had fallen behind in chasing after Vah Naboris. The Rito had also fallen behind a bit, Vah Medoh produced such forceful winds that it kept pushing the few adult Rito back to their village. Link on the other hand was at the head of the pack. He was there far before anyone else and stood on the pedestal staring up at the Beasts, waiting for them to make their first move. "Link," A young looking Gerudo spoke. Sidon assumed she must've been high up in their hierarchy judging from the amount of jewelry she wore, her headdress, and how she had one gigantic looking guard at her side. "I have to say, I didn't think I'd be seeing you here. I guess I just thought you'd be taking a nice long vacation after saving us. That's the whole reason why I bothered to chase Naboris and bring my," the Gerudo girl looked over at the others and smiled mischievously, "warriors." "Hah!" A Goron, obviously their leader, laughed loudly, "You believe your soldiers are warriors? We Goron eat rocks for meals! The very things are what makes us all practically one giant muscle!" The Gerudo Guard besides the young girl opened her mouth immediately to speak but the girl stopped her. "Perhaps we may not eat rocks for breakfast," The girl spoke, "but don't let that underestimate you. We are a very strong race. Maybe one to give you rock-eaters a run for your rupees." The Goron leader laughed heartily and slapped the Goron besides him on the back, commenting how funny he found the girl to be. "Now that we got the awkwardness aside, mind telling us why we're here Link?" All eyes were now on Link, who simply shrugged in response. "Lady Riju, could it be possible that maybe our voe friend did not appease Naboris?" The girl, who's name was apparently Riju, waved her hand to dismiss the idea. "I'm sure Link did an excellent job at calming Vah Naboris, Buliara. My faith in him is and always will be one hundred percent unwavering and so should yours. If Link says he doesn't know why Naboris and the others began acting so strangely than he genuinely doesn't know. We won't get anywhere in life not trusting those who have proven their worth to us, that's what mother has always said." "A wise woman your mother must've been." It was now Sidon's turn to speak. However, as reluctant as he was to actually talk to the other leaders his voice rang with confidence. "My mother always said that to run a kingdom you must first have kindness, wisdom, and courage of a goddess." Riju studied the Zora, looking at him from head to the top of his fin before smiling. "Your mother sounds like a lovely lady." "Enough mother talk!" The Goron chief practically yelled every word he spoke. "If any sort of grunt work is necessary I'd like to take care of it now before my back pains return! Yunobo, are the painkillers on standby?" A younger looking Goron, and coincidentally the one that was glowing red, nodded. "Great! Now then, little Hylian tell me where I need to fight!" Link was still standing there, simply staring up at the Beasts. Each one was just standing there as well. All eyes were on Link and Sidon felt as if maybe Link needed a small distraction. He walked over to the Hylian and rested one large hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps this is nothing?" Sidon spoke softly though the others could still hear. "Perhaps these beasts simply needed...a change of scenery?" Sidon heard the Goron leader laugh loudly at his statement, making the Zora prince just a bit embarrassed. "He could be right," a white-feathered and somewhat intimidating Rito flew down next to them, "after all, The Divine Beasts were found in mountains right? Maybe they're looking for a new place to settle in until the next time they are needed." Link was obviously running the possibility through his head. Maybe they were trying to find a new place to be out of the way until next time. Maybe they weren't. Maybe they wanted everyone to believe that so they could run wild around Hyrule and possibly destroy everything. Maybe the Goddesses had possessed them and placed them here to remind everyone of everything that has happened? The possibilities seemed endless and each one seemed more likely then the last. However Link came to his conclusion. He walked off the pedestal and waved his hand, signaling for the others to leave as well. He believed the Beasts would do no harm so what was the point in standing there and waiting? The other races trusted their Hylian ally and began turning around to leave back to their respective homes when a loud and low roar was emitted from Vah Ruta. She lifted up her head and trunk to reveal the two tusks at her mouth. The said tusks extended just slightly as she turned her head downwards. Vah Rudania opened up his face, just as he did when he took aim at Hyrule Castle, with a shrill screech. Vah Medoh made no noise an simply looked down. Vah Naboris was the most awkward out of the four. She spent a minute kneeling down before the two awkward ear-looking things at her sides moved to face forward. Simultaneously, the Beasts began glowing red and in that second everyone remembered what happened when they took aim at the Castle. Everyone jumped out the way before the red beams shot down to the ground. Link, using the wonderful and extremely useful gift of Daruk's Protection, jumped in front of Prince Sidon. The Zora prince was the most exposed out of everyone and surely he would've of gotten hurt if they Beasts weren't simply shooting a red light at the ground. No one looked up. Everyone was bracing themselves and hiding behind shields, arms, other people. Link was the first to look up. The red beams were gone and replaced by dust that was surrounding the exterior of the pedestal. But the fog seemed to be covering something. Curious, Link slowly walked over to ring of fog, shield and Master Sword in hand. He squinted in the dust, trying to make out the figure in there. There was an arm, two arms. No wait, they were feathers. Maybe wings? The Hylian Champion waved just enough of the dust away to see a Rito laying there on the ground. Except it wasn't any normal Rito. He almost instantly recognized the blue scarf that donned an image of Vah Medoh and stumbled backwards, letting out a small yell of terror and shock. The others now looked up to see what had surprised Link. Their jaws dropped and eyes widened as the rest of the dust settled to expose to deceased Champions from a century ago. It was kind of ironic to Sidon. He had always spent nights praying the goddess statue in the Zora's Domain for a chance to see his sister again but now that he was looking at her perfectly preserved dead body he never wanted to see her again. Not that he loathed her, he just couldn't bear the sight of his dead sister. It's kind of a big, emotionally draining, deal. The others seemed to been just as shocked (and probably emotionally traumatized) as Sidon. No one spoke or moved, they just stared at the bodies. Link was actually the first to move. He quickly crawled over to his friends and with a shaky hand reached out to them, though never touching any of them. He was visibly shaking and perhaps holding back tears. Sidon wanted to go over and comfort him but he couldn't move. The frozen face of his sister seemed to have paralyzed him. And as if Link seeing his dead friends wasn't enough the Goddesses decided to make matters worse. At least this is what Link thought. A small, almost fairy looking, white light floated down from the heavens and in front of the pedestal. Link recognized this one. It's how he was always magically transported out of the Divine Beasts once he defeated one of Calamity Ganon's foot soldiers or how he followed Ganon out of Hyrule Castle and onto the field. Link always assumed it was the Goddesses' way of helping him get from point A to point B when he had no time to spare. However, this time instead of transporting Link from one area of Hyrule to the next Zelda was the one being transported. This one was a bit more of a shock to those who didn't know of Zelda's passing. Audible gasps were heard from the crowd, and some gentle crying coming from somewhere, as they all gazed upon the corpses of those they cared for who fought vigorously to defeat the biggest threat to Hyrule. This time when Link reached over he gently placed his hand on top of Zelda's, whose hands were clasped in one another's on her chest, and tried to fight the urge to cry. This all felt like a cruel punishment to Link. He was being forced to see the bodies of those who had died because he couldn't do his job right. The Divine Beasts all let out one loud roar in unison, lifting their heads up to the sky as they did, before something more began to happen. As mentioned before the day was cloudy. No sun poked through the dense blanket of clouds in the sky. Until now that is. The smallest wind managed to push a cloud away and give the tiniest opening possible for the sun's rays to shine through. The light shone upon the five champions and something even more mysterious happened. Revali was the first one to sink into the ground. In his place a rock, which seemed to be serving as a sort of tombstone, shot up which turned to one giant sapphire in less than a second as well as a small bed of flowers. Daruk was next and in his place a tombstone of amber appeared with a bed of flowers as well. Urbosa's body sank into the earth and was replaced by a topaz tombstone. Finally, Mipha. As she sank into the dirt Sidon practically lunged to her, calling her name out but it was too late. She had been replaced by a tombstone of beautifully shining rubies. Zelda was the last one. She sank down slower than the rest. Silent Princesses decorated the area where her body had laid and a gigantic diamond poked out of the ground in her place. With all this done, the Divine Beasts all began slowly returning to their respective homes. The inhabitants of those homes however, did not return. Instead they all stayed there and stared at the shimmering graves. The pain of losing their beloved champions felt fresh, even if most all of them did die one hundred years ago. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Duck, duck, duck..." Link repeated the word in his mind over and over again. A bow in his grasp and an arrow ready. The stinging cold of the Hebra Region hardly affected him and it certainly didn't affect the local fauna. Link continued thinking that same phrase until he spotted a good sized buck. "Goose." He grinned as he let the arrow fly. A single hit to the head and the buck was down, now he had a meal for the night, now all he had to worry about was the small possibility of freezing to death up in the harsh snow. Ever since the encounter with all four Divine Beasts and the sudden and traumatizing funeral of all his friends Link has spent his time up in the cold cold mountains where there were no people. Only him and snow for miles around.He loved it up there. He loved how he could bundle up in layers and layers of warm clothing and wear his jewelry, which he acquired from Gerudo Town, to keep him from freezing to death. He loved the way any little cave with a fire in it felt safe and like home. He especially loved climbing the gigantic mountains and finding more and more interesting areas. So far he found two hot springs and a house that looked more run down than destroyed. At the moment he was gathering the food he had hunted to take back to his measly looking camp (which was basically just a torn up cloth held up by a couple of sticks) and have himself a nice meal.God, Link sure loved a nice hearty meal. His favorite meal was probably his meaty stews. He loves those stews. The monster stews were a close second (the monster extracts added an extra flavor that Link loved) along with the skewers. However his most favorite dish was (which didn't count as a favorite in Link's mind, it went from "Goddess" level favorite to first to second and so on) the wild berry crepes. He loved the wild berry crepes. He loved just how sweet they were and how filling the could be. Those crepes reminded him of slower times whether it was relaxing in a run down and abandoned house in the middle of the forest or sitting at his table in his home at Hateno Village. Those crepes were the world to Link. His mouth watered just at the thought of them and how deliciously sweet they were. If only had had found a camp with a cooking pot...Link sighed and stared at the ice cold raw meat in his hands. He was spoiled by the thought of gourmet meals and crepes to even think about eating seared steak for dinner. He looked down at the Sheikah Slate on his hip. The warm orange glow inviting him to take a look at what mysteries it held. The Hylian set his meat aside and uncoupling the device from his belt. The eye symbol appeared on the screen for a moment before being replaced with the entire map of Hyrule. Link swiped to reveal his little photo gallery. Aside from the pictures taken a century ago, his personal photo gallery meant a lot to him. On it was pictures of horses...dogs...more horses...Link with his horse...ah, and his beloved wild berry crepe. His stomach rumbled and Link groaned, he really wanted a crepe. The idea of perhaps using the many shrines around Hyrule to transport himself to a place where there was a cooking pot. The Zora's Domain instantly popped into his mind but he dismissed the idea of it. That was the last place he wanted to be. He didn't want to witness Sidon pretend to be his usual optimistic self after seeing his dead sister sink into the ground and sobbing his eyes out in Link's arms moments after that. Wild berry crepes... Link dismissed the thought of Sidon and completely ignored the tears that wanted to begin to form when he began thinking of the sad memory of Sidon. Instead he just smiled pleasantly at his picture of a beautiful and delicious wild berry crepe. God how missed those. It's been a while since he's had them. He usually made himself one once he managed to complete a shrine. He also gave himself permission to eat two after he reclaimed the Divine Beasts. In fact...he remembers planning on making a whole dining room table full of those little crepes after he defeated Ganon...he wanted to eat them with Zelda. He's sure she would've liked them.Link swiped away from the picture of the crepe only to come across another picture of the same desert. He stared blankly down at his Sheikah Slate before setting it onto the snowy ground, face down. He grabbed the raw meat again and stared at that too, remembering the delicious kinds of meals he'd make with meats and vegetables. Meaty rice balls, salmon meunière, seafood paella... all those different dishes he cooked for himself on this long journey. A tear rolled down the champion's cheek.He recalled staying at Zora's Domain one night. He was isolating himself from the Zora which, at the time, was understandable. He had barely woken up and had also just defeated Vah Ruta. No one expected Link to come out of his shell so quickly so they gave him space. He had gone fishing earlier that, wearing his Zora armor he managed to catch one pathetically tiny fish. He had no food other than the little ironshrooms he had found earlier and a couple of radishes so he was basically forced to eat the tiny little fish or else he'd starve. Link had built himself a camp fire in some far corner of the Domain and there he sat with his skewered fish. The fish was eventually cooked and he did eat it but it left him dissatisfied. He eventually decided to just sleep away the hunger. When he awoke early the next day a plate of professionally prepared salmon and a wild berry crepe with some warm milk was waiting for him on the ground, just feet away where his head was resting.Link didn't know why but food was always his happy place. He loved cooking and watching as the oils in his cooking pot made the food jump up and down. His meals were a big part of his adventure, the helped not just healing wise but they also became a sort of nice little protective blanket for him. As long as he had the access to a nice meal he always felt happy and safe. But now here he was crying, knee deep in snow up in the mountains where the cold froze so many Moblins that it made the few, snow-covered roads look they were purposefully decorated with pretty ice rocks because he was staring at pictures of his favorite desert and instead of feeling happy he felt like utter crap because he was scared.Link wiped the tears away, kind of afraid they'd freeze, and sniffed. He was admittedly scared. "At least I acknowledged it..." Link thought as he laid down on the snowy ground. King Dorephan's comment about him not being alone rang through his head. He wasn't quite sure he believed the older king. He sure felt alone right now. Looking back at the meat and his Sheikah Slate, Link sighed. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on top of them. In his perspective he had a couple different options. He could stay up in the mountains forever. He could live life in the snow and hunt for food and snowboard and not have to worry about anything ever again. However if he did that then he'd be letting all of Hyrule down...he was still a knight and as a knight it was his job to get the tasks assigned to him done. Even if the tasks terrified him more than any Lynel ever could.The Hylian sighed and closed his eyes. Maybe he could sleep this all away. Maybe for some strange reason this is all some nightmare. Maybe he had failed again and was taken to the Shrine of Resurrection once more and this was an incredibly vivid dream that he was having. A pang of guilt shot through his body, he felt bad that he was hoping he had failed at stopping Calamity Ganon. Maybe he wasn't cut out to be a true hero of legends like his ancestors were. Maybe this is where the legendary bloodline stops, another more prepared person could take over. They could defeat Ganon in their next life and be forced to continue this long and draining process for years to come whether it be themselves or their descendants. Link stood up and began quickly walking down hill. He was frustrated and he was crying and he didn't know what else to do and the only thing to do was what he could do best, which is fight. So he went looking to do just that. However he would come to find that after an hour of trudging around in the snow there were very little monsters around. He eventually was forced to angrily cut down trees while simultaneously crying. As unusual as that was it actually helped him, especially since no one was around to witness it. That would be embarrassing. Once he eased his nerves he found a cave with an old campfire in it. And there he was again, back at square one. Sitting alone in the cold. He was getting nowhere like this and he knew it, however he didn't exactly know what to do. Link pulled the Master Sword off of his back and examined it, thinking of how many times this legendary sword got him through some very tough battles. It was a beautiful and deadly weapon. Link absolutely adored it. It often times felt like it was made for him specifically, which it technically was but not in the sense that Link wished it was. It was funny, all his life he heard of the previous Heroes of Hyrule. He would listen to their stories time and time again and how they would never fail in doing what had to be done. He didn't think he'd be the one to ruin everything. But he supposed that's probably how Zelda felt so many years ago when she would stand in the freezing waters and pray for hours on end so she could access her Godly powers. Link stopped and blinked. He felt pretty...idiotic to say in the least. He smiled and gave the sword a kiss before putting it away in its sheath. The Sheikah Slate was then slipped off his waist and before he knew it, Link was standing in front of the oldest Goddess statue in the History of Hyrule. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The Goddess statue was huge and it kind of intimidated Link. He didn't know why but he imaged that maybe the actual Goddess was trapped inside. Maybe it had something to do with stories of when Hyrule was flooded and the Goddesses took forms of statues or something like that. He probably wasn't remembering the story right though.Link stared up at the Goddess statue and knelt down, unsheathing his sword once again. As he did when he first pulled the sword from its resting place deep in the Korok Forest, Link rested the sword against his forehead and closed his eyes. He didn't exactly know how to pray or who to pray to but he was sure he would at least do bad enough that one of the Goddesses might pity him and answer his prayer. He took in a deep breath and began thinking up his prayer."Goddess...Goddesses Farore, Din, and Nayru, I ask you to answer my plead. I, Link, the appointed Knight of the...late Princess Zelda who had the blood of a goddess in her veins come asking for anything you have to offer. I need guidance, advice, anything. As you three are the Goddesses of Wisdom, Power, and Courage I understand I am molded by you three to have a piece of those three aspects embedded in me. I am not fitted to be a prince. You three have designed my life, past lives, and future lives, to be a servant of Hyrule. However my fate has been put to jeopardy and I have no clue as to what my next move is. This is why I ask for your help." Link waited in silence. No response. No magical echo-y voice in his head and no rumbling to indicate the arrival of anything to help him. He sighed."You have done well to end the terror of Calamity Ganon, young hero." A loud voice boomed throughout the room. It sounded angelic yet distorted at the same time. It also faintly sounded like three different voices... "You have come seeking the help of the Goddesses yet you do not need it. The path is as luminous as the moon is at night. You are still a servant to Hyrule." Link frowned and opened his eyes, looking up at the statue. He didn't know if he had to physically communicate to the statue but he assumed what he was doing before would work as well. "I don't understand. Zelda has worked her whole life to become of use to Hyrule. She has worked to access her powers and once she had them she met her death. Why? Why couldn't she stay and be the heir of the throne?" "Hero of Hyrule, the Triforce is meant to be split up between three. One possess Wisdom, one Power, and one Courage. The Princess, unfortunately, possessed all three pieces and the power was too much for her to handle, even with Goddess blood. This is why Ganon's form is different than the ones described in legends. If he were to possess the piece of Power, his physical body would have been stronger than ever. If you were to have possessed the piece of Courage and Zelda of Wisdom, those two alone would not be enough to be able to seal away the darkness. In order to save the land we created, this time one had to possess the full power of the Triforce and risk losing their life. And since the Princess has the goddess blood we saw it fit to give her the entirety of the Triforce." "But..." Link ran a hand through his hair, confused, "If you have such great power then why not just stop Ganon on your own?" "The Three of us together are more powerful than Ganon, that is true, but if we were to use the power then our life sources would be depleted and there would be no guarantee we would succeed in remaining alive in the sense that you know. We would be ridding Hyrule of evil for a temporary amount of time but destroying ourselves in the process. As the creators of this land we also hold full power over the Triforce, it is given to whom ever we please, without us that one major key to your victory would be free to whomever, that is why we have chosen your bloodline to act as our weapon against the evil. You have always possessed the power of Courage, and now that you have defeated Ganon and Zelda has sadly met her end, your piece has returned to you. You also have the power of Wisdom laying dormant inside of you. Ganon has yet to fully take hold of his piece, luckily he won't have it for a very very long time. Hyrule has a prosperous future ahead of it and Ganon will not make his way in it any time soon. For now, at least." "Please," Link stepped forward, extending his hand out to the statue as if it were going to step off its pedestal and walk away, "I need something. Something to guide me in this...this unfamiliar way of life. I need something.""The ancient dragons that serve us will guide you. Since you are the embodiment of of Courage you will need to make your way to the Spring of Courage. Pray to Farore and she will help you begin your journey. Good luck, hero." The voice echoed away and Link was once again standing alone in silence. He looked at the Master Sword in his hand, his reflection stared right back at him. Sighing, he put it away once more. The Sheikah Slate was taken off of its place upon Link's hip and a moment later Link was standing at the edge of Hateno Village.~Approximately two days passed since his little chat with the Goddesses of Hyrule and Link hadn't left his bed from his home in Hateno Village. Partially because he was extremely sleep deprived and partly because he no energy go try to figure out whatever riddle the Goddess of Courage would throw at him. However Link was planning on leaving very soon. In fact he could leave now if he wanted to, a simple Sheikah Slate trip and he'd be at the Spring in no time. However Link, as said before, had no energy.The Hero turned onto his side and pulled the blanket over his head. The sun was beginning to set and the villagers' noise was beginning to calm down. Outside his horse would let out the occasional neigh or whinny. Link's eyes began to slowly close before a loud and disruptive knock at his front door scared him awake. The Hylian grumbled and rolled off his bed, stood up, and walked down stairs to open the door. Once he did open the door he did not, however, find a person there. Instead he found some professionally cooked salmon on the ground accompanied with a wild berry crepe and some warm milk.~Link had everything he needed gathered up and he was ready to go. The food he had been anonymously given worked wonders and now he was energized and completely ready to take on anything and anyone. He should've known a good meal would be the thing that pulled him out of his slightly depressing emotional state and got him back on his feet. As his finger's glided over the screen of his Slate, Link wondered who had given him the food. He assumed it was the same person as before, so perhaps it was a Zora? What Zora knew how to cook that? Or maybe it was a Hylian who was visiting the Zora back then and has happened to see Link here as well? He supposed he'd never know.A click later and Link was at the Spring of Courage, behind the great Goddess' statue. The brightest light was already shining on it and Link admired the light as he walked around and in front of the statue. As he did before, Link knelt down in the water and rested the Master Sword against his forehead."O, Goddess Farore, Goddess of Courage. I come to you seeking guidance." Link only felt a little dumb as he thought his prayer. No one talked like that, not anymore at least."Link," The voice echoed throughout the surrounding area, this time sounding clearer than before, "you have come to me, Farore, for guidance. You possess the Triforce shard of Courage and of Wisdom. Yes, I see you have faced many hardships in your journey." The Hylian looked up at the statue. "Your journey as the leader of Hyrule is one that is odd to you. I can see it in your mind. You believe so many things about yourself that are far from true. For this I will lead you to someone who will help you a great deal. You must first, however reclaim Hyrule Castle for yourself. It is an important aspect of the land my sisters and I have created. Return Hyrule Castle to its formal glory with the aid of your guide. From there one you will find answers to hidden questions and you will be led to the correct path." The wind suddenly picked up and there was electricity in the air. Link looked up to See Farosh flying in gracefully. Every electric ball that usually shot out of his body missed Link and he didn't know if it was on purpose or not. "Farosh, servant and protector of the Spring of Courage, will take you to where you will find the one that will guide you." Farosh extended one gigantic clawed hand and snatched Link up into the air. The Hylian let out a yelp and looked at the Goddess Statue once more."Wait!" Link leaned down but it useless really, "Who is my guide? How will I know it's them?!""Good luck, Hero of the Wild." The holy light around the Goddess statue died down just before a ball of electricity shot at Link, forcing him into unconsciousness. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Dragons," Muzu began as he read from an old book, "are servants to the Goddesses. Their names; Farosh, Dinraal, and Naydra, have been molded after the names of the Goddess of Power, Wisdom, and Courage." The elder Zora licked his finger and turned the page. "They are to protect the springs, and in some technical way, the goddesses themselves. It is said that they do not make themselves known to anyone other than those who are worthy. Worthy here meaning hand picked by the Goddesses themselves. However the dragons can be seen by the common villager if the dragon needed or wanted to be seen." Sidon listened to Muzu drone on about dragons, not that Sidon was really complaining. He had asked the elder Zora to dig up some book on dragons after their encounter with one. The gigantic dragon circled above the Domain for a while. Once Sidon went up to the main square to see what the commotion was about, the beast flew lower. Everyone was terrified, including Sidon, but once the Zora prince saw what the dragon held in one giant hand he stayed put. The dragon then dropped an unconscious Link a few feet in front of him before flying away and disappearing into the clouds. At that moment Sidon had immediatly arranged for Dento to temporarily close his shop so they could set up a curtain and give Link a small and isolated room while he rested. But Sidon was a bit afraid that Link wouldn't wake up..."Aha," Muzu pointed at the page and read, "The Dragon Farosh is the protector of the Spring of Courage and servant of the Goddess Farore. He protects using his ability to blast balls of electricity to any foe however he is calm in nature. He would not ever dare to harm an innocent animal or person." Sidon looked down at the still unconscious Link and frowned. Was it possible that the dragon had attacked? Or maybe he electrocuted Link for a specific reason?"Prince Sidon," Another Zora poked her head in, "I have the elixir you requested. I also made arrangements for the construction of a small living space to be created on the water down below. It should take us no more than one week to create." Sidon tore his eyes away from Link and smiled warmly."Thank you, my dear. I want to make sure our special guest feels as comfortable as possible while recovering from...whatever happened to him. Thank you and I will pay for all the needed supplies later this evening." The Zora woman smiled before leaving."Sidon," Muzu set the book down and walked over to examine Link, "You seem far too- and pardon me for being blunt- far too invested in this Hylian. Now you know that I do respect him and I no longer loathe him but I don't see why you won't just let him be. He is a King now. He should be able to take care of himself, especially after what he's done to survive." Sidon rolled his eyes, he was kind of expecting this from the old Zora."Muzu, as I've explained before, Link is our guest and my dear friend. Any negative talk of time will result in some sort of negative consequence. Please do not make me tell my father of this.""Now now Sidon, I'm merely saying he is a King. Technically the King of all Kings. He has to be out there making beneficial decisions on Hyrule's behalf. He cannot be running amok in the mountains or getting himself into trouble and you certainly cannot be making special food deliveries to him in villages too far for you to go alone. He needs to take responsibility of himself and of Hyrule.""And he will." Sidon stood up and crossed his arms over his chest. "You must understand he lost a friend and the one he was supposed to protect, it has taken quite a toll on him the way losing Mipha did a number on you." Muzu grumbled and turned around, beginning to slowly walk out the makeshift room."Just make sure this whole ordeal doesn't turns into something more. This Domain has lost one of our treasured members of the royal court to a Hylian, we don't need to lose two to the same Hylian."- - -When Link woke up he still felt the electricity coursing through his body however it was bearable. He sat up slowly, the smell of fish finally hitting him. He was in the Zora's Domain. It took him a minute to gather his strength but when he did he stood up and looked around. It looked like he was in Dento's repair shop but there was a curtain there for some odd reason. Link stepped out into the night.Everyone was asleep so there was hardly anyone out and about. Sidon was one of the few that was awake. His back was turned to Link and he instead was staring out at the horizon. Link stopped, not moving forward. Farore had said she was leading him to someone that would guide him and Farosh had brought him here. Even a little ChuChu could put two and two together."Link," Sidon smiled and turned to his friend as he walked up to him, "I have been waiting for you to wake up. I was worried that perhaps the Hearty Elixir I had given you didn't work." Link shrugged and stood by the Zora, staring out at the horizon as well. "The Great Dragon Farosh carried you here. Why? I have no idea. I was planning on asking you but I'd rather not put any kind of strain on you." Link nodded, mentally thanking Sidon. He really didn't want to tell him that apparently the Goddesses saw him as the perfect guide for Link. "I have made arrangements for a living space to be created just under the Domain. Technically above, the "real" Zora Domain is underwater, this one is mostly so we can interact with others.""No thank you," Link signed out, "I'm heading back to Hateno Village before the sun rises. I don't mean to be rude but I have a home there, the Zora Domain isn't for me." Sidon glanced at his friend from the corner of his eye. "When we were younger you loved it here though. You always claimed you'd one day live here permanently, now I'm not saying you have to live here forever but please stay for a bit. It would benefit you greatly." Link shook his head. "Again, no thanks." "Pardon my tone Link but I have to urge you to stay. Or at the very least allow me to accompany you on your way to your home. I don't want to come off as over protective or over invested in you but you- I would like to that you are well. " Link kept his eyes straight forward and his expression stoic, in his mind, however, he was groaning and rolling his eyes. Although...if Sidon was the guide Farore had supposedly assigned to him then he really had no choice. The Goddess did this all for a reason and who was he to say no when they were only giving him the help he pleaded for. "Let's go then. Today, before sunup. It's always best to go before the sun rises so you get hours without any skeletal monsters jumping out the ground." Sidon gulped slightly but nodded. "We can leave in an hour. We can swim down the river and get out of the domain faster that way." Sidon suggested and Link nodded. The tall Zora Prince turned around and hurriedly walked to the nearest mini-waterfall before jumping down into the water below. - - - He had to admit, he was excited. Sidon hardly left the domain and now he was out adventuring with the the greatest legend in all of Hyrule's history. It was probably the most exciting thing to ever happen to him. Although Link being silent (more silent than usual that is) did put a damper on things. It didn't help that whenever Sidon did attempt to strike up a conversation with his friend Link merely responded in terse manner and continued along his quiet way. More than once did Sidon want to stamp his foot, cross his arms, and complain that Link was being rude but the prince controlled himself. When night fell on the two of them they were lucky enough to have found a fully formed, but extremely run over with moss and other gross things, abandoned house. They were able to settle in there for the night. The fireplace in the house was clogged with debris so they made a fire in the middle of the room with some wood they found inside. Link had prepared Sidon some roasted crab and made himself some seared steak. "Link, my dear friend, may I ask you something?" Link nodded and took a bite from his food. "Do you plan on...do you plan on fulfilling your role as King? I don't mean to ask to upset you. I just don't...I can see this is whole ordeal is eating you alive. No normal person decides run away to the coldest corner of Hyrule on a whim." Link took another bite of his food, wiping his mouth before responding. "I'll be King, don't worry." "No, that- that isn't an acceptable answer!" Sidon huffed. "Link I truly am sorry but you are acting childish. I understand, I do. You lost someone important to you and you're now having great responsibility thrown upon you. I went through this when Mipha died. I wouldn't leave the water for days and when I did I often ended up on the sunnier spots of the grassy hills behind my home and nearly drying out. I was a wreck and on top of that I was now officially next in line for the throne. I was a young Zora and I had felt the pain of losing my sister and my best friend to the same foe. I...I admit it most likely isn't my place to say this but Link, you must gather yourself and fix whatever damage was done. You will never be able to fulfill the promise you made to the Princess if you never even try to start."There was silence between the two, the only real noise was the crackling of the fire between them. Sidon...had a point. Sidon had a point and Link felt like an absolute pile of garbage. He knew what he had been doing to himself and to the kingdom, he simply chose to ignore it. He tried to ignore it even more now that he had an actual path in front of him, showing him where to go in life. He prayed to the Goddesses for guidance and here he was, trying to act like it wasn't there simply because he was still scared."You're right." Link signed, his hand gestures dances as shadows on the walls of the house. "You're absolutely right. But I can't do this. I'm..." Link paused, trying to find the right word. "I'm a weapon of the Goddesses. I'm not a King. I'm a Knight. I trained my whole life to be a fighter and only a fighter." He unsheathed his sword, setting it on the ground between them. "This sword is forever bound to my soul because I fight. Because I fight for Hyrule and keep it safe. It isn't bound to me because I'm a King, it's because I'm a knight." Link lowered his hands and picked up the sword, looking at it solemnly."I understand." Sidon rested one giant hand on top of Link's free hand. "I can help you but only if you allow me too. Please Link, just let me be your friend again." Link kept his gaze on the sword but the tears forming on the corner of his eyes was a dead give away that he had heard every word. The Hylian clenched his hand into a fist, nodding as he did. Sidon smiled and gave Link a gentle and loving squeeze. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Sidon was able to leisurely sit in the small pond just outside of Link's home in Hateno Village, course most of the top half of his body was exposed thus defeating the whole purpose of actually sitting in the pond but whatever. For once he was a bit annoyed by his height. At least some of his body was able to rest in the refreshing water."So," Bolson, a construction worker and friend of Link's sat by the pond and and enjoyed the sun, "You're the Prince of the Zora?""Yes I am. You can call me Sidon, I know many people often refer to me as "your highness" or "prince" but I prefer to be called by my name." Bolson chuckled and nodded."So Sidon, how are you and Link getting along? Admittedly you two seem like such an odd pair. You seem so calm and collected, plus you're a prince. Link is, well, odd. When I first met him he seemed extremely irrational. The kid nearly bought that piece of junk house for fifty thousand rupees. But I went easy on him and sold it to him for 3,000 rupees and thirty bundles of wood." Bolson plucked a flower from the ground and tucked it behind his ear. "He seems to love it here though. Spends as much of his free time here as he possibly can. But enough about that, I'd like to know why the esteemed Prince of the Zora is accompanying a traveler like Link.Sidon was staring at the house, just barely looking through the window. He couldn't see in very clearly but he imagined his friend was inside most likely polishing the collection of Champion's weapons he had hung up on the walls or maybe cooking a meal or maybe taking another nap. Sidon sighed and turned back to Bolson."I'm planning on convincing him to journey to Hyrule Castle. Perhaps we could fix it up a bit and get- perhaps we could fix it up... That castle was Hyrule's most impressive piece piece after all..." Bolson laughed."No offense your highness but you and Link can't do all THAT on your own. But you know who can?" Sidon looked at him curiously, already having some idea as to what the other would say. "I can! If you'd like we can restore Hyrule Castle to its former glory and charge 60% less than what we would charge for a project that big." Sidon's shark tail, the one on the back of his head, began wagging just a bit."Yes! What a wonderful idea!!" Sidon was grinning widely. There were practically stars in his eyes. Now all he really had to do was convince Link to go to the castle without making it seem like he was trying to force Link into fully being a King. That...probably would start a bit of an argument."Buuuuut It'd take us a little while to actually get to the castle. We have some part of our construction crew out in Tarrey Town so it'll take a couple of weeks to get over to the castle and begin the reconstruction.""That's alright!" Sidon sat up straighter and leaned over, taking one of Bolson's hands in his and shaking it. "Thank you so very much! You have no idea what it means to me! The Zora will forever be in debt to you!" Bolson laughed, blushing just a bit from the sudden contact with the handsome Zora."Please, if anything this is more for me than the kingdom." Bolson winked. "When I was a young boy I always dreamed of going into Hyrule Castle and doing work for it. Like building a new fountain or garden. And I always longed to see it in it's true glory. But since it's been taken over by that monstrosity all my life I never could and never believed I would. But now I have the marvelous opportunity to, all thanks to you!" Sidon smiled. The two chit-chatted for a while before Link walked out and announced it was now time for Sidon and himself to hit the road. Bolson and the Zora said goodbye (and Sidon slipped him a portion of the payment for the cost of reconstructing the castle) before the Hylian and the Zora walked down the path and out the village. Link had honestly no clue where to go, he never really did. Usually he followed the way the winds flew and right now there were none. No problem, they would just follow the path and everything would be a-okay. They walked in a comfortable silence, Sidon admired every single flower and small animal he saw and Link kept an eye out for any suspicious characters. Every so often Sidon would glance at his friend. He didn't want to start anything with him but he had to eventually tell Link what he had done. Sidon cleared his throat, which automatically caught Link's attention."I'd like for you to know something. Something I did. Now it isn't anything bad but it may be something you may find slightly upsetting." Link raised an eyebrow, motioning for Sidon to continue. "I have hired that friend of yours, Bolson, to rebuild Hyrule Castle. He said it would take a couple of weeks to actually begin the reconstruction but I have full faith in him." Link nodded, not seeming the slightest bit annoyed."Bolson's Construction Company is great. I'm pretty sure they'll be fully capable to rebuild Hyrule Castle to its formal glory. Maybe they'll make it even better." Link smiled at Sidon who was actually a bit shocked at the reaction, more so the smile."Y-Yes. I thought so as well." Sidon looked around for a second, trying to think of something else to talk about right now that Link was in a jovial mood. "Where are we travelling to next? Any specific region? Gerudo Town perhaps? Maybe the Rito Village?" Link shrugged. "I don't think we're going anywhere particular. You see, my favorite part about travelling when I was going from one destination to the other was just walking. Going on a path and seeing where that led me. I loved that. I loved sitting on a hill and knowing that even though I had a huge responsibility hanging over my head and I had to go to the next Divine Beast or whatever I still had the freedom to explore and experience things and make discoveries. Maybe that's what we'll do, maybe you and I could just explore. You can help me with...being a King and I can show you the world through my eyes." "That..." Sidon had a slight blush on his cheeks. Sometimes Link had such an incredible way with words it just made even the simplest things sound pleasant. "That sounds quite lovely. I would love to see everything the way you do."~Three days of nothing but pure walking and exploring took up Sidon and Link's time. Neither of them complained though, the beautiful nature was more than enough to keep them distracted from the long walks. At night was when the two sat around the campfire and spoke to one another about themselves. The fourth night was no different. It was raining but they found an old and broken house- or more a wall with about a quarter of a roof still attached. Sidon loved the rain now that Vah Ruta didn't torment him and his people with it. He found it to be calming and a great way for him to be out and about with the feeling that he was submerged underwater. The fire crackled between the two of them as they stared out at the grassy hills in front of them. Link, to much of Sidon's surprise, hunted and killed a bull. the bull saw him and instantly ran him over a good two times but that didn't discourage Link. Now they were feasting on the rich meat from the bull earlier.Link stared up at the sky, examining the rain clouds. It didn't seem like they would go away any time soon. He glanced at Sidon who was currently playing with a frog that had come out during this weather. The Hylian felt a sense of happiness wash over him. He liked this, he liked Sidon's company. The Zora seemed so interested in everything Link had to say and he seemed to be more than patient with him when he went through his short moods of cold silence. He didn't feel like he deserved someone like Sidon yet Farore believed he did. Sidon accidentally let the little frog jump too far from his reach and was left without a little companion. Link caught Sidon's eye and he took this opportunity to reluctantly thank him."I'd like to say thanks. To you. For this." Link paused to gather his words. "I usually feel bad whenever I see you. I'm always reminded that your sister is dead because of my incompetence and it's the worst feeling. I never really understood why but you still managed to have some shred of faith in me I didn't deserve it and when most of your people didn't want anything to do with me." Sidon stopped Link, gently pushing his hands down onto the ground, before he spoke."I no longer want to hear- or more see- you talking so negatively about yourself. My faith in you is probably extremely bias based on the fact that even after all the years I have looked up to you and saw you as a God among Goddesses. However I won't argue that my bias opinion turned out to be completely true in the end." Sidon smiled. "A part of being King, you know, is having confidence in yourself. I understand that right now you don't have the best confidence but believe me, when it is the time for you to step into Hyrule Castle as King and not a warrior, you will know you will be able to do this."Link was staring down at his lap, trying his hardest to fight the urge to smile. In the end he succumbed and the smile spread across his face. Oh how Sidon loved the smile, it was a thing so rare it made him feel like the richest person in all the kingdom when he saw it. The two spent the rest of the night talking. Link continued asking Sidon questions about their time together when they were younger and Sidon more than happily told him the many stories he shared, not forgetting a single one. When the camp fire died down and the moon was nearly at its peak Link stood up and stretched. They had made sure to stop by a small pond when the rain was coming down and now Sidon was going to use that pond as a small bed. Link had the Master Sword in his hand and told Sidon to get some rest, reassuring the prince he would protect him all night long from any sort of danger. As Sidon closed his eyes and began drifting away to a peaceful sleep he wondered if it would be acceptable for a male Zora to create Zora armor for the husband he wanted. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Any normal person who supposedly "loved" travelling would be sick and tired of journeying through Hyrule for all of a month and a half. However Sidon and Link obviously weren't normal people. Since Sidon spent a vast majority of his life sheltered and rarely going any farther than the entrance to the path that led up to the Zora's Domain every day was a new discovery. There were so many animals and so many different kinds of flowers and bugs and people it was astounding. He loved having the privilege to roam the dusty old paths and look at guardians up close now that they were tamed and he enjoyed meeting other travelers. The two had made it a personal goal to go to every town or village at least once. It was a challenge that Sidon wholeheartedly accepted. Their first stop was the Gerudo. This visit was an interesting one for Sidon, he never knew that only women- or vai- could only go inside considering not a single Zora would be able to make it in the desert (Sidon was only able to thanks to Link's heat resistant food). The bigger shock out of this whole thing was the fact that if they did want to get into the Gerudo's home they had to dress as women. It was no big deal, really it wasn't. The Zora was enthusiastic to wear the beautiful and comfortable Gerudo clothes, what embarrassed him was the fact that so many of the town's inhabitants commented on how attractive Link's Zora vai friend was and how impressive "her" abs were. Nonetheless the visit was pleasant. The young Gerudo Girl Sidon remembered from months earlier was, as he suspected, the chief. Her name was Riju and this overwhelming responsibility was thrusted upon her at a very young age. However many people seemed to believe she was a very capable leader and would be one remembered for many more generations. Riju was able to immediately tell that Sidon was a voe the second him and Link stepped up and bowed down to her. She didn't kick him out though, which was another shocker. Instead they spent quite some time discussing the possibility of setting up several man-made oasis or ponds so more Zora merchants and travelers would be able to survive the trip through the desert. At the end of the day Sidon was gifted with a lovely sapphire circlet, courtesy of the Chief, and the permission to come back any time he pleased (in the appropriate attire) to discuss the pond problem or just have a pleasant conversation.Kakariko Village was more of a rest stop for a two rather than a visit. It was nice though. Sidon had a vague memory of Impa from when he was a young boy and it made him absolutely ecstatic to see her again, alive and well. Impa seemed to be just as happy to see Sidon, she kept commenting on how tall he was getting, how handsome he was, what a good person he was, etc etc. The kinds of things any grandmother figure would say. Impa did seem more focused on Link though, she continued to pulling him to the side and spoke to him in a hushed tone. During their secret conversations the two would sneak a glance to Sidon every so often. Sidon didn't seem to care though.From Kakariko village came Goron City and boy was that one a challenge. The Zora Prince was determined to get into the city and nothing was going to stop him. Link didn't want to accidentally kill Sidon with the extreme heat. Of course there were alternatives, fireproof elixirs and fireproof armor, but the question was which one would be more effective. After some very cautious testing they came to the conclusion that the elixirs worked considering the fireproofs clothes didn't fit a Zora Sidon's size. Much to every Goron's surprise Sidon made it to the city without catching fire and without even feeling the heat. Everyone was practically staring at the jovial Zora with their eyes wide open and mouths pretty much on the floor. Sidon was more fixated on the abundance of ore deposits and luminous stone on the mountain to care about how many people were staring and wondering if Sidon would burst into flames any second now. He had a great time and that was all that mattered.The Goron Chief Bludo didn't seem at all dazed that a Zora was in his realm. He was just excited to see a new visitor seem so interested in talking to him. Yunobo on the other hand was worried for Sidon but was his worries were eased once Link pulled out the fireproof elixir to show that their Zora friend wouldn't become a friend fish stick any time soon. The visit with the Goron soon came to an end but Yunobo and Bludo made sure Sidon and Link would return soon, Yunobo even offered to show Sidon the path up to Death Mountain the next time they stopped by.In their journey across Hyrule they Spring of Courage was one of their many stops. Sidon had no clue what that was and he didn't understand why Link kept referring to it as his spring but Sidon didn't stop his Hylian friend from leading him down the dangerous and monster infested path. The monsters in this area seemed hostile unlike the ones they had encountered and the fact that so many of them seemed to be electric based made Sidon slightly paranoid that he'd be shot with an electric area and that would be the end of him. Link made sure that wouldn't happened. Sidon didn't know how but the Hylian Champion made fighting seem so graceful and beautiful. The way Link would do back flips to dodge the spear attacks of the Lizalfos only to propel himself forward a second later and administer a blow so powerful it would knock the monster backwards and give Link the second he needed to jump on top of it so he could deliver the finishing move. He took on three Moblins at once and didn't even break a sweat. Once they reached the end of the path, Link simply snapped his fingers and lightning crashed down, hitting the monsters and only the monsters. It was breathtaking and something exhilarating. In the end Sidon's heart was beating a million miles a minute and he didn't know if it was because of the rush of getting through that many monsters without dying or maybe it was simply seeing Link determined to make sure not a single monster made it within arms reach of Sidon.The Spring of Courage of was breathtaking. The giant goddess statue was old and had cracks on it but it made the statue look all the better. Their also seemed to be a bit of a bright light shining down on it. There was a small pedestal in front of the stone goddess seemed no bigger than the size of a basket and Sidon wondered if maybe people brought offerings here in exchange for answers to their prayers. Perhaps that was the correct way to pray and the small statue back in Zora's Domain also took offerings.At one point Sidon tore his eyes away from the beautiful statue and looked at Link. The Hylian seemed to be in a sort of trance. He was simply staring up at the immortalized face of the Goddess, absolutely emotionless. The Prince decided not to interrupt him, perhaps this place meant more to Link than Sidon could understand. Eventually when they did leave, Link was quiet. However this quiet was unlike the other times. He didn't have a scowl on his face nor did he walk a few steps ahead of Sidon so he could avoid talking to him. Instead he strolled back down the path, carefully stepping over the bodies of the defeated monsters, with a small smile down his face. Later on Link explained that the reason there were hostile monsters here was because only the courageous could go and see the Spring of Courage. The monsters there would see be revived and whoever wanted to go up and see the Stone Statue of the Goddess of Courage had to face the long and dangerous path of monsters.Their final stop was the Rito Village. Sidon was especially excited for this one. When he was younger he once heard someone in the Hyrule Castle library say that Rito and Zoras were distantly related. He hoped that maybe they had some sort of old books on the history of the Rito and how they came to be, maybe with their elder's permission Sidon could take those books to his domain and have Muzu and some other Zora study some possible distant relatives of theirs.Upon arrival of the Rito Village Link was bombarded with small Rito children. They all just swooped down from the higher parts of their village and tackled Link in a group hug. Now Sidon had always seen Link as jumpy, he had the reflexes of a cat with sword training. The Zora was kind of expecting Link to accidentally elbow a child but he was relieved when Link simply hugged them back. The hug didn't last too long, the girls' mother called them back for lunch so the two of them were free to go up the long and winding path to see the elder. Kaneli, the Rito Elder, unfortunately had no books for Sidon to borrow. He did however offer Sidon some interesting tales of their Rito Champion, Revali, and more interesting stories on how the children of the village continued to visit the elder since Link arrived at the village to reclaim Vah Medoh. The elder seemed like a kind and quiet soul, Kaneli reminded Sidon of his father.Later on in the day the two found themselves in the Slippery Falcon, debating what they were to have for dinner that night when another Rito introduced himself. Kass had flown into the small store, seeming quite breathless, with a note for Link."I'm glad I have finally found you," Kass breathed out as he dug through a bag he kept attached to his accordian, "I have a message for you. From a nice man named Bolson." Link accepted the letter, reading it. "I was flying around the castle and I stopped by the castle town ruins. I saw the men taking a break and offered to play them the songs my late teacher taught me. Anywho, we conversed for a while and I mentioned how you always stopped your travels to hear me play the song meant for the hero of the legends. Bolson paid me a generous amount of rupees to deliver this message to you."Sidon glanced over to read the contents of the letter. The writing was sloppy but Sidon understood what they meant. Hyrule Castle's reconstruction was done and Link was more than welcome to go and see for himself."I have to say," Kass continued, "The castle looks marvelous. Much better than it did when I was but a young boy. It beautifully shows how we're slowly coming away from the devastation of the Calamity." Link nodded, smiling as he did. He put the letter in his pocket and thanked his friend, handing him a the generous amount of one hundred rupees for delivering the message. "Thank you my dear friend, alas I must go. I hope to see you soon!" Kass flew out and away from the village, calling out one last goodbye before disappearing.~"Beautiful." Sidon whispered as he stared up at the new and improved Hyrule Castle. "It's...it's stunning." The Castle's old and dreary black bricks were painted a new shade of white. The black shingles on the towers were replaced with purple. The castle seem to shimmer in the light. Every single broken wall and busted stairway seemed fixed. The towers weren't caved in and the mountains of debris seemed to have vanished. Link couldn't believe this was the same castle he was in just a couple of months ago. "Well?" Link looked over at Sidon. "Are you ready to go inside? I'm sure it is even more breath taking than the outside. Link bit his lip. The realization that rebuilding the castle was simply the first step of him becoming King Link of Hyrule. Suddenly the beauty of the castle seemed to be there only to intimidate him. Sidon noticed the obvious hesitance in Link's face and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "This castle is the start of a new chapter for Hyrule and yourself. Don't think of it in a negative light. We are simply going in to inspect it. If you enjoy it we can stay, if not we can always continue our journey." Sidon smiled and a little twinkle of light shined off of his pearly white shark teeth. "Now," Sidon bent down and offered his arm to Link, "Shall we enter, King Link?" The Hylian snorted but accepted Sidon's arm. Together they walked in to the new Hyrule Castle. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Link's footsteps echoed in the dark hallways of the castle. The inside was just as beautiful as the outside, Bolson did a terrific job, but it still felt eerie in there. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that there was a suit of armor every ten or so feet apart from one another, maybe it had something to do with the fact that Link remembered roaming those halls with his heart pumping in his chest as he cautiously kept an eye out for the monsters that lurked the castle, maybe it was because he knew deep underneath the castle he had fought Calamity Ganon. Link didn't know. Link should've been using a torch. He really should've been using a torch but for some reason he thought that would only make him more paranoid on his midnight stroll. On his adventures he was usually hidden under the cover of night, no monsters could see him that way and for some strange reason he believed that if he was hidden in the dark then maybe the dark thoughts that haunted his mind wouldn't be able to find him. He was wrong.Moon light flooded through one of the glass doors that lead out to the balcony. Link sighed in relief as he rushed over to the two doors and out into the serenity of the night. The wind was cold but it eased Link's nerves. He smiled, closed his eyes, and breathed in deeply. This castle...everything inside of it was making him more on edge. He had only been living in there for three days and already he's had more night terrors than he's had in the past two months. A low, loud grumbling echoed around the castle and Link almost jumped off the balcony. Instinctively he pulled out the Master Sword and got into his fighting position. A splash came from down below in one of the ponds on the castle's courtyards and Link sighed in relief. It was just Sidon. Him being a Zora he slept in the water, he had claimed it was nearly impossible for a Zora to sleep in a normal hylian bed and for him it was an even smaller possibility due to him being pampered all his life with the luxury of kelp beds or giant underwater flowers being there for him to rest on. Link of course knew that that was just an act. Sidon was understandably scared of being inside the castle at night. Link didn't put the sword back. the bright light that emerged from it made the castle seem just a bit less terrifying. He turned around to face the dark hallways and, after a moment of mental encouragement, he stepped back inside.He held the sword up as if it were a torch, in some ways with the light it produced it kind of was. Link kept his gaze on the walls. The many paintings that were once torn apart after years of monsters having control of this magnificent castle were perfectly restored but the eyes of the deceased members of Hyrule's Royal Court followed Link. He felt like they were all judging him. They were probably all disgusted. Disgusted that someone like Link was starting the new generation of Hyrule royalty. Link looked down at the floor momentarily before looking down the hallway. He stopped and turned left, continuing to walk.He stumbled upon a staircase that led directly up to another staircase then outside. Ah, fresh air. Link's best friend. Walking along the pathway he breathed in deeply. The smell of the water mixed with the trees and relaxed the Hylian champion. He really needed to calm down, he couldn't afford to always be so tense. A King needed to seem as calm and collected as possible at all times, even if he was having one of the worst breakdowns in all of Hyrule history. That's what Sidon said."But I'm no King." Link glumly thought to himself. "I had to go on a giant cucco chase just to remember the simplest things about what I was doing." His gloomy expression turned into a scowl, his grip on the glowing sword tightening. "I don't even remember who I am." Angry tears welled up in Link's eyes as he fiercely pushed a door open and walked back inside. "How can these damn Goddesses believe that I can be a King of- of everyone when I don't know my own last name?!" He was practically tripping over his feet as this point, the tears were clouding his vision. "Do they not care? Do they just not see how I am legitimately the worst person for this damn job? Are they not watching me like they said they supposedly were?" Link was shaking in anger, or perhaps it was just the overwhelming mixture of anger and sadness. "How can I be considered one of the legendary heroes when I've done practically nothing but wander around and try to remember those who called me friend." Link slammed a door open so hard that if anyone else were currently residing in the castle they surely would've awoken in shock and fear that they were under attack. "I don't know anything about myself or the people that have known me. I don't know Impa or Mipha or Daruk or Revali, Zelda, Urbosa, King Daphnes, King Dorephan, Sidon-" Link walked right into a gigantic pillar and stumbled backwards. He glared at the pillar as if it purposely placed itself there so Link could walk right into it. The sun was just barely peaking over the mountain range but it was enough to distract Link for just one moment. The tears that were streaming down his cheeks were now being wiped off and Link sniffled. Deep breaths, calm down. A King is always calm and cool and collected. After a second of looking around Link discovered that he was at the top of the castle where the Sanctum resided. Link wasn't going in. Not today. However he did kneel down onto one knee and bowed his head. A silent prayer was said in his mind, wishing the deceased Princess, King, and Champions well in their afterlife and hoping they had found their place among the Goddesses. It was nothing special- the prayer- it was simply something so he could pay his respects. Link stood back up. Walking over to the ledge, he sighed. The mornings in Hyrule were beautiful. For some reason or another he always woke up at the very crack of dawn, just when the sun was rising. He was leaning against the edge when something caught his eye. It was a faint light. It didn't look like a normal light, more like the holy light that only shines down on the Goddess statues. The light was faintly surrounding one of the destroyed homes in Castle Town, one that was more in the outskirts of this demolished town. Link rubbed his eyes and sniffled once more before he climbed up onto the ledge. Doing this always gave him butterflies in his stomach, one wrong move and he'd fall off this dangerously tall building, but he always did it anyway no matter where he was or how high up he was. He walked along the ledge with his paraglider in his hands before he jumped off and lazily floated over to the house ruins.The light grew more and more intense as Link drew closer, then it vanished. He looked at the house ruins and was about to turn back around when he saw something on the ground. It was small, rusty sword. Link had seen a million and one rusty swords and usually ignored them but for some reason this one seemed interesting. Slowly, he walked over and crouched down. A lump formed in his throat and he felt the need to cry again without knowing why. The rusty sword was now in his hand and was definitely smaller than most the swords he's seen, it seemed like a child's sword. Then it hit him.The memory of himself here- home- as a child. He had the sword gripped tightly in his small hand and was trying his hardest to correctly lunge at the practice dummy. Two people were in front of him. A woman, she was sitting and clapping lightly. She was encouraging him and telling him he was doing a wonderful job. A man was standing just behind the dummy and was attempting to give Link some instructions. Both their faces looked blurry and both their voices were distorted but Link knew who they were. He managed to do the attack correctly and his father picked him up, tossed him in the air, and praised him. His mother walked over and kissed his forehead, praising Link as well.Link blinked and suddenly he was back in the ruins of Castle Town, morning was just washing over Hyrule and the deep and all too familiar feeling of emptiness made Link feel as if he'd been punched in the gut by a Lynel. He clutched the rusty sword to his chest and crumpled onto the cold ground, sobbing like a child.It turns out the Goddesses were watching him. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The smell of professionally cooked salmon, a wild berry crepe, and some nice milk was the only reason why Link woke up. Other than that the stubborn Hylian would've simply yanked the covers over his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He sat up slowly, yawned, then opened his eyes. The platter of food was waiting for him on the bedside table. Next to that was a chair that had some weirdly royal looking clothes laid across it. It wasn't until Link saw the chair that he realized he was inside and it was now noon.Link blinked and looked around. He was inside the King's- his room. A moment of panic caused Link to jump out of the bed and rip the blankets off. Something clattered on the floor on the other side of the bed and Link dove for it. The small rusty sword was in his hands once again, he was relieved that the sword was still with him. Of course Link knew he couldn't just carry the weapon with him wherever he went, people would think he was crazier than they already thought he was. Luckily though, Bolson had done Link the favor of placing weapon holders in his room. Along the walls replicas of the champions weapons were displayed and, for now, his rusty sword from the past would be displayed alongside them.A faint knock on the door made Link jump but he collected himself and opened it up. Sidon was standing there. His tall frame could was just an inch shorter than the actual door. The Zora smiled brightly at his friend. He wasn't going to mention the fact that he had found Link crying in his sleep on top of a pile of debris of an old home early that morning. He was simply going to pretend as if he didn't see anything and he didn't carry him in and lay next to him for hours, attempting to soothe the sleep-crying Hylian. "Good morning my friend. Or more, good afternoon!" Sidon allowed himself in as Link sat up. "I've prepared you a meal. I was hoping we would have time to maybe go over some sort of speech or introduction you may give out to the kingdom once you fully acknowledge yourself as the new King. However I don't think that may be a good idea yet." Link grunted and chugged the milk before stuffing the fish in his mouth. He was definitely in some sort of bad mood."I laid out some clothes for you," Sidon pointed at the clothes on the chair, "but perhaps today could be a day where the two of us just lounge around and explore the castle?" Another grunt from the Hylian as he pushed the empty plate aside and grabbed the crepe. "While you were asleep I found the part of the library that holds Hyrule's Secrets. Perhaps you and I could read up on it together?" This seemed to spark up Link's attention. His ears perked up slightly, like an adorable little dog!, and he nodded. "Great!" Sidon stood up and nearly yanked Link up to his feet before half-dragging him out to the halls. "Oh, by the way, I have paid off the rest of the debt we owe Bolson and I've hired him to rebuild Castle town! I figured it would make the castle seem a bit more welcoming if there were actual houses surrounding the area." Link only nodded in response but Sidon assumed and hoped that that nod meant Link was a least somewhat excited that Hyrule was slowly rebuilding itself.The two walked down the halls and stairs. Sidon idly spoke as to not create any awkward silence and Link politely listened. However Link's mind couldn't help wander to his previous encounter. It was kind of a big deal for him. He had learned something about himself. Himself and not his mission. Himself and not the princess. Himself. He wanted more. Maybe the Goddesses would drop down a magic map that held every little significant area of Link's past. He wouldn't mind going out and looking for that.Link bumped into Sidon with an "oomf!" and stumbled back. Sidon had apparently said something as he began unlocking a rather large door and was looking at him out of the corner of his eye waiting for a response. Link nodded eagerly, hoping that that was satisfactory. Luckily it was. The Zora Prince smiled and stepped aside, allowing Link to enter first.The smell of old books and a bit of mold filled Link's nose. This room was almost twice the size of Zelda's private study however it didn't seem all that impressive. Both of them expected the floor to be decorated with expensive rugs and perhaps a mahogany table with matching chairs. Maybe the walls would be lined with banners that donned the famous bird-like creature that reappeared in the castle's main decorating. Maybe the shelves would be painted white and gold to make everything look more elegant. Nope. They were in a sad little cobblestone room that had no tables, chairs, or windows. The bookshelves looked like they were on the edge of collapsing and there were some very old and rusty chests scattered about."This is...quite cozy don't you think?" Sidon half smiled though it seemed a bit forced. Link had a grimace on his face as he examined the sad and dead looking room. He shook his head no."It's gross." The Hylian signed, looking up at Sidon with a hint of attitude. Sidon raised a finger and opened his mouth to say something but a moment later he nodded in agreement. It was admittedly disgusting. There was a nest in the far corner of rats and the moldy walls seemed to have attracted some kind of bug. Without another word Link turned around to walk back the way he came.There was more silence between the two. Sidon noticed that almost every moment they've spent together as of late was one spent in awkward silence. Obviously it was upsetting him but he didn't want to push Link to talk in any way, shape or form. Once the two parted ways- Link locked himself back in his grand room- Sidon explored the castle on his own.Roaming the long halls was peaceful. The Zora prince remembered a time long ago when he was just a young boy and these halls were always so busy he needed someone to hold him high up on their shoulders so Sidon could get through. Usually that person would be Mipha. Whenever she had a spare moment she would hoist her brother up onto her shoulders and run around through the halls so Sidon could feel tall among the crowd.He smiled at the memory of his sister. It has been a while since he's thought of her in such as positive light. Usually Sidon thinks of her death and how he could've prevented it, how the champions could, how the Goddesses could... But now he had something else to think about. How his sister would kneel down and allow the small prince to clamber on her shoulders before she stood and sprinted down the halls. Often she'd end up bumping into the other Champions. Mostly Revali, he always walked the halls with a faraway look in his eyes.Sidon followed the hallways as it led him up a tower and finally outside. As he continued walking he saw a tower that seemed detached from the rest of the castle. No recollection of him exploring that area popped in his mind so he shrugged and made his way to the mysterious tower. There was a sign that was placed above the small doors that read "Zelda's Private Study" Sidon smiled and bowed his head, paying his respects before walking in. The room itself felt like a warm blanket wrapping around you during a particularly cold storm. The smell of old books was more comforting than the smell in the secret Hyrule Castel library. A small stone Goddess statue was in the corner along with a couple of candles and some flowers. the books were stacked on each other so the stood tall and proud. Sidon could only imagine how many nights the Princess must've spent here, reading and praying. There was a book placed neatly on the center of the desk. Sidon picked it up. It was Zelda's diary.There was a bit of a mental argument Sidon was having with himself. On one hand he wanted to read it. He wanted to live what Zelda experienced and get to know more about what the six heroes had to face. Who knows, he may find some interesting things in there about his sister or Link or maybe some secrets that may lie in Hyrule. On the other hand, however, it may be considered disrespectful to read the private thoughts of the late princess. What if he somehow angers her spirit and he gets punished? Ghosts aren't something of myth. Sidon bit his lip and prayed to the Goddesses for forgiveness before he carefully opened the book and began reading its entries.His hands shook more and more with every word he read. Every word of Zelda's pain and anguish hit Sidon like an electric arrow to the chest. As a young Zora Sidon had always seen Zelda as a happy and confident young woman and a very formidable ruler. She always explained her plans of how she would better Hyrule once this whole Calamity Ganon thing was over with. Not in a thousand (or in this case a hundred) years would he think that she felt such an overwhelming amount of pressure and failure due to that whole ordeal. As Sidon continued reading he realized how much of strained relationship Link and Zelda must've had. She mentioned she felt a bit anxious at how she didn't know what the "chosen hero" thought of her and how he must've despised her. Those passages made him frown. He didn't believe Link had a single hateful bone in his beautiful body. The entries got progressively worse, all leading up to the princess yelling at her knight to her being attacked by the Yiga Clan, then her entries seemed to have changed. Her whole perspective on her appointed knight changed.The Prince devoured every word, every sentence until he reached the last entry. It was on the day the Calamity had risen. The day of the Princess's birthday. Sidon sighed and set the book down back to its rightful place. Before leaving the study he knelt down and mumbled a silent prayer, wishing Zelda happiness in her afterlife. The sun in the sky was now replaced by the moon. It's light made the castle look even more beautiful than it did in the day. But...there was another light, at the top of the castle where the Sanctum was. Sidon squinted, unable to see the figure or the source of the light properly. He quickly headed back inside and grabbed the telescope Sidon assumed Zelda used to look up at the stars. As he peered through the telescope he saw that the light was coming from a jar packed with fairies. Link was holding the jar, just staring at it. Then, the Hylian opened the jar. The pink fairies began flying away. Link then gingerly picked up a handful of Silent Princesses he had on the short wall and allowed the flowers to be carried away by the wind. Link spoke silently, actual speaking. His lips moved as he bowed his head and closed his eyes. Sidon was surprised before he remembered something he had read not too long ago. Zelda had mentioned Link could talk except...he chose not too. The pressure and "all eyes on him" made him feel like he had to stay silent and take the pain and turmoil on all by himself.It was funny, Sidon always believed the myth that the bloodline of the Heero was cursed. Every new Hero would restricted from speaking at all. He faintly remembered someone telling him that the Goddesses did this so the Hero could never say out loud that he refused to be the Hero and refuse to stop the reoccurring evil. Link stood on the wall just outside the Sanctum, watching the light and flowers go farther and farther away. Sidon stood far below, watching Link with a sad smile. "Forgive me, Link," Sidon whispered to himself as he began walking back inside the castle so he could head down to the bodies of water below, "but I must be more assertive in my efforts with you. You deserve all the happiness in the world after all." As Sidon walked the image of Link's warm smile appeared and Sidon couldn't help but smile as well. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- News had finally spread of who exactly the leader of Hyrule was and everyone was honestly shocked. Sure, the remaining three leaders of the biggest communities in Hyrule kind of expected this but at the same time it was still a big shock. Link, the little Hylian who was often seen doing incredibly dangerous and reckless things in the name of Hylia. Link, the guy who ran around taking pictures of horses and random fruits. Link, the Champion who once tried to get inside a guardian. Link, the hero handpicked by the Goddesses who everyone saw as a goofy little traveler, was the new king of Hyrule.Link couldn't hide from this any longer, a ceremony would be under way to commemorate the new King and rebirth of the kingdom. Sidon had been secretly sending letters to different people and pretty soon Link was waiting to be carted off to Kakariko Village. Tomorrow there would be a grand ceremony in the renewed Castle Town Square where Link would "fully address" himself as King. It was going to be a grand event and nearly if not all of Hyrule would be there. In Castle Town. Watching Link as he would accept the crown that Last King of Hyrule wore once upon a time. Link wasn't prepared for this at all.The Hylian sighed. He was sitting on the fountain just in front of the gates of the castle. He was waiting for the carriage to come to escort him even though everyone knew damn well Link could ride his horse on over to the village. In fact, he would've preferred that over the huge fuss they were making."Everything is set." Sidon sat besides Link with a smile on his face. "The day is nearly here my friend. You will at long last rule us all and we will be on the path back to greatness. Aren't you excited?" Link nodded. He was excited, he wanted Hyrule to prosper but he still didn't get why it had to be him to rule it. "Once you arrive at Kakariko Village Impa will give a sort of training for tomorrow and the local tailors will create something fit for a king. And I will be back home preparing as well. My father and I are debating whether or not he should go, his old age does make it difficult, as does his size..." Link stopped and looked up at the Zora. He poked his arm, getting Sidon's attention, before he began signing."You're not coming with me to Kakariko Village?" Sidon shook his head."I'm afraid not. I have to prepare myself as the Prince and to be quite honest I miss my home. And, not to be too personal, I'd like to...pray to my sister for your sake." Sidon's smiled faltered just a bit. "I know you're anxious about the events to come and I know a part of Mipha's spirit resides in you so I'd like to make sure you're fine tomorrow." Sidon looked down at Link, who had his usual stoic expression plastered on his face to hide his true emotions. Link nodded and looked forward once more. "However, I will stay once the ceremony is over. You and I will only be apart for a day. I'm quite sure you can handle it.""I don't think I can." Link was a blunt person. After a hundred years and losing nearly everyone he's cared for he learned he might as well be as truthful about everything as possible. Sidon tilted his head and asked Link to elaborate. "You and I have been together for..." Link thought for a second and counted on his fingers, "nearly five months. That is a long time. I've spent even more time by myself. I've spent sleepless nights filled with seemingly endless battles and a struggle to eat properly. I've had to go through so many things on my own and..." Link sighed and stood up rather quickly. He was biting his cheek and trying his hardest to keep himself together and the only way to do that was to get up and get all that energy out of himself somehow. "I suppose I'm used to you around me. I like you with me. I like...you." Link was pacing back and forth now, keeping his head down, unsure of how to really explain his feelings. "You are...you are a good person. And a lot of times I feel bad for not remembering you too well because I do like you. You're-" Link snapped and turned to Sidon. "I'm Hyrule's ray of light in dark times, but you're mine." Sidon's face felt red and in that moment he was wondering if Zoras could even blush. His heart was pounding in his chest. He didn't quite know how to take Link's wonderfully sweet comment. Was this perhaps an awkward, romantic gesture? Or was it just Link's still awkward nature trying to describe how much Sidon's friendship meant to him. Sidon had no way to tell and, sadly, he couldn't ask. In the distance came speeding in the carriage driven by the residents of Kakariko Village. They were dressed in their traditional Sheikah outfits, its what they wore when on very important business. Sidon sat there, mouth open as he silently watched Link climb into the carriage and wave goodbye before departing down the road, back to the village.Sidon's escorts arrived later that day. The Prince was silent the whole way back to his Domain, his mind was locked on Link and that day's conversation. At this point it wasn't so much what way Link meant what he said, it was more Sidon replaying the words in his head so a small smile would wiggle past his blank expression. It wasn't until he arrived back home did Sidon begin thinking seriously about exactly what Link meant. As he walked up the stairs to where his father was he didn't so much as glance at the statue of his sister out of guilt.~"Welcome, your highness." Impa chuckled and stepped away from the carriage door to give Link some room. The Hylian smiled awkwardly and clambered out. He had arrived just after the sun had set and it seemed like the whole village had been waiting for him. All eyes were on him, their new king, and suddenly Link felt sick to his stomach. "Come now child. We have a lot to do before the sun comes up and brings the new day." The crowd parted for Link and Impa, he didn't know what to do so he waved at everyone. They only stared back at him.As the door shut behind Link he couldn't help but sigh in relief. He despised the feeling of having people looking at him and expecting something from him. That feeling made him want to detach himself from the rest of the world. Impa sat at her usual spot and motioned for Link to sit in front of her, he did. With his legs crossed he was twiddling his thumbs and looking at everything. He didn't know why he was so nervous all of the sudden."Now then, do you know what you're going to say tomorrow?" He shook his head. "Well, now that may be something you need to figure out. Perhaps you can mention something about your adventures and your struggles." She sipped the tea Paya had set besides her before continuing. "You needn't make your speech seem so formal you know. It's been so long since any of us has heard an official speech so I'm sure you can get away with talking about yourself." Link nodded. "I realize you don't particularly enjoy speaking. You don't do it because of all the responsibility placed on you and you won't want to do it even more now that you have a kingdom's worth of responsibility set squarely on your shoulders but...perhaps it is a good idea to speak tomorrow.""I'll think about it." Link signed. It was clear on his face that he wasn't going to think about it and he wouldn't speak at all. The rest of the night was filled with Impa helping Link on what was and wasn't appropriate to say. For instance, mentioning how he had met the spirit of the last King of Hyrule after waking up from his hundred year nap along with the spirits of the rest of the champions and mentioning his fight against Calamity Ganon and witnessing the power of the Goddess through Zelda first hand was appropriate. Mentioning how he once stripped almost completely naked and sheild surfed through the Hebra region to fight the Lynels to see if he would survive wasn't something the kingdom would want to hear. Neither was the fact that for a solid three days Link gave up, put on his Lizalfos mask and tried to live life as one of them. Deep into the night they finally put a pause to their preparations. Link yawned and was about to head outside when Paya quietly said he'd be sleeping in the room upstairs. Link was about to argue but Impa gave him a stern look and he instead thanked them and went upstairs. At this point in the night Sidon would tell Link to get a nice long rest and that he wished only good dreams on his friend. Oh how Link missed his Zora companion. He sighed. Sidon had mentioned missing his home. Maybe it was time for Link to go back to living his life alone.He shook his head and stripped off his clothes. He wasn't going to think about that now. He'd talk to Sidon about it. No- he'd pray to the Goddesses about it. They could tell him what to do. He flopped down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling for a moment before he leaned over and blew out the single candle that was giving him light. Tomorrow would be a big day. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Often times when Link slept he had the misfortune of sleeping on the nights the Blood Moon happened to appear. However that night he felt as if maybe things wouldn't be so bad. A Blood Moon most likely wouldn't show since Calamity Ganon was gone so he had no real reason to not sleep. He didn't realize how wrong he was.It started out so innocently. So nice and calming. It was like Link was remembering another forgotten memory. He and Zelda were out in the Castle's Courtyard where training was being held for the new knights. Link wasn't helping those newcomers train, instead he managed to snag a dummy and was using it for his own training. As he jumped backwards before lunging forward and did a series of spin attacks Zelda watched. She had placed her book down and sat contently behind her knight. After a while of doing more and more practice attacks Link noticed something...unsettling. Everything was deathly quiet. The clashing of swords and grunts of the young knights could no longer be heard. Link paused and turned to Zelda. She was gone. Panic shot through Link's body as he instantly ran to the nearest door. Please please let Zelda be inside.The room was dark. Pitch black. Link looked around in confusion before turning around to exit. The door was gone."Link." It wasn't Zelda's voice but Link turned around and prayed it was her. Standing there was...someone. Her hair was a deep brown and she wore a long dress. Clearly she was a member of the royal family. She wore the infamous bird that represented Hyrule through the ages as well as the Triforce. However Link didn't recognize her."Link." Two voices this time. He turned around again and saw a small girl standing there in a long white dress. An older girl stood next to her looking nearly identical to the child. Both of them were royals as well. They wore the same bird and the Triforce."Link." He flinched and turned once more. Another girl stood there. She was different. Instead of the royal dress she wore a long flowing white one. However the Triforce embedded on her hand gave Link the impression that she was still in a position of importance."Link." They all spoke at the same time, their blank expressions gave the Hylian Champion an eerie feeling. "You have failed us. You have failed them." Link blinked and in that one second where his eyes were closed appeared more people. Only this time they weren't the princess-like girls. No. These Hylians were none other than Link's ancestors. The previous Heroes of Hyrule. However Link didn't know this, and wouldn't realize they were until he later came to realize it. For now he would believe it was his mind creating different versions of himself to mock him. Standing along side the girl in the flowing white gown stood a man, or perhaps a very mature looking teen. He wore a Tunic of green and had on an expression that could kill. He stood protectively by the girls side, Master Sword in hand. Link's eyes widened as he stared into the determined looking eyes of the Hylian in front of him. He lowered his own sword and turned around only to be greeted by three more Hylians. Two of them were young boys. One had a peculiar looking instrument in hand and the other had a mask on. The mask itself just looked cursed, it didn't help that it's giant orangey-yellow eyes stared deep into Link's soul and the boy kept twitching. Besides them was another Hylian, looking a few years older than the boys in front of him. His face looked sad but fierce nonetheless. Link almost didn't want to look but his head turned to the direction of the final girl. Standing besides her was, as expected, another Hylian. He wore the same green Tunic as the first he saw. Only this time his eyes looked cold and unforgiving, like an animal. Maybe Link only believed this because there was an unusually large wolf standing defensively on the opposite side with the same viscous eyes.He was shaking. He couldn't hold his sword correctly and he knew at this rate he'd drop the legendary sword. The wolf growled and barked loudly at Link. The noise startled him and he stumbled backwards. Who were these guys. Why did they all look so similar. Why did they all look like him."You've failed us." They all spoke. The voices blended and created an unsettling sound. "Generations of perfection. Generations of perfection. Generation of endless courage. Generations serving the Princess-""Shattered." The lone standing Hylian spoke in a curt manner. "I didn't die for this. Hylia didn't create this world for this. The Goddesses didn't let me die for the land I love and return me to protect it once more so I can have a-""Disappointment." The cluster of three spoke now. The boy with the mask seemed to be twitching even more. "We have been forgotten through the ages. We have been cast away and we are okay with that. Though our legacy as the Hero of Time didn't survive we don't want the legacy of the Hero of the Wild to be-""Laughed at." The last Hylian spoke that could barely be heard over the wolf's barking. "We lost a dear friend for the sake of this land. We risked everything to protect this land and return Zelda from the clutches of Ganondorf's hold and yet you couldn't even manage a task much simpler.""Disgusting." They all spoke, causing Link to flinch. He didn't know what to do or how to respond. There was a steady flow of tears running down his cheeks and his hands were shaking so much Link was starting to think there may be something wrong with him. All the eyes, the unforgiving blue eyes, stared down at Link with such disappointment and such hatred. "We don't understand. Your life goal is to simply serve Hyrule. You have failed.""No," Link's shaky hands signed out. "I haven't. Not yet. I'm still protecting my land. I'm going to be King. I still serve them." They all laughed. The masked faced boy had oddly begun floating and glowing a light purple. "I can still serve them. Farore said- said that this was all part of their plan-""A Goddess may say what she wants be in our heart of hearts we all know this was far from your fate." The masked boy floated on over, still twitching all over. Link stayed rooted to the ground, he couldn't move for the life of him. His arm wouldn't move, he wanted to life the sword in his hand to at least try to defend himself but his arm wouldn't respond."You!" The boy grabbed Link by the shoulders and shook him roughly, cackling maniacally. "You have disgraced us!" Link shook his head, more tears streaming out his eyes. "You have made the legend of the hero a joke. You have shamed us all. You," the boys voice grew deeper as he began to draw out his sword, "have met a terrible fate," the boy plunged the sword deep into Link's chest, cackling as he did, "haven't you?"-"Master Link!" He woke up in a fright. Jumping out of bed in a cold sweat Link looked around anxiously. He was in Impa's house. He looked down at his bare chest and sighed in relief. All he found were the preexisting scars of a life time of battling. "Master Link!" Paya knocked on the door. "I have your clothes ready. My grandmother would like you down soon so you can relax before the ceremony." Link sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Right. The coronation. He would be King that day. Link dressed himself in his usual attire; his regular pants and boots with the travelers shirt he wore along with the hooded cape. Paya was still standing there, holding the clothes and when Link opened up the door she stumbled backwards. "I have your clothes for you- oh. You're dressed." Link took the clothes from her and slipped a piece of paper in her hand. Paya read it slowly, frowning a bit. "I-I'm not sure my grandmother would- oh no." Link had managed to slip through the seemingly too small window and was now climbing down the side of the house. Paya stood there in defeat, wondering what to do. This couldn't do any harm. Link was just going out to bathe...somewhere.The Hero had used the ever useful power of Revali's Gale to propel himself upward and over to the forest where the Great Fairy Fountain was. He breathed in deeply and began walking down the withered away path that lead to a nearby field. The walk was nice. Link needed the fresh air and nature after last nights horrific and potentially traumatizing nightmare. The boy in the mask, the sword deep inside of him, the voices telling him how much of a disgrace he was. It was all something Link would never forget. However for a moment he pushed the thought aside. There was a couple ponds where a nearby Shrine resided. Link smiled, remembering Kass playing his accordion as he tried to ride a buck onto the platform.The water of the pond refreshed and relaxed the tense soon-to-be King. As he floated in the shallow pond he allowed his mind to empty and simply enjoyed himself. It was at that moment that his mind then went from its blank state to wondering what Sidon was doing. A smile crept along Link's face as he thought of the Zora Prince attempting to float in this pond with Link. It'd certainly be an interesting sight.Link scrubbed his scarred up body, he had left his underwear on just in case Paya told Impa and Impa sent out a search party for him, in an attempt to clean himself. He hasn't had a proper bath in...probably over a century. The most he's ever done for a bath is dunk himself in water before entering any populated area. He hoped that this quick scrub in some probably dirty pond water would be enough to wash away any stench of sweat, dirt, and possibly blood. Upon returning to the Village, Impa was waiting for him by the entrance. She spoke calmly and didn't seem at all angry at Link for running off. Maybe she knew he needed a small bit of time for himself before his life would change again.The clothes he had to wear were less than comfortable. The shirt had an odd over the stomach belt kind of thing that squeezed Link just a bit. The actual belt had a gigantic gold triforce on it that was pretty heavy as was the long coat Link had to wear. His pants were a blinding white for some reason and were a bit itchy. The only normal part of his outfit were his boots. He had the luxury of wearing the same ones he's been wearing. However the primping and preparing didn't stop there. On the carriage ride over to Castle Town Impa had Paya bring along a comb. The Sheikah elder spent the rest of the ride yanking Link's hair with the comb, attempting to get the every single knot out of his hair before putting it back into a much neater pony tail. They entered through the back of the castle. A bridge was built so the carriage could easily cross the large moat. Music was heard. Its happy sounds mixed with the loud talking and laughing of the Hylian, Gerudo, Zora, Goron, and Rito residents of Hyrule. The nervous butterflies that haven't gone away since last night now seemed to be fluttering around even more. Link felt like he was going to be sick. "You have time to enjoy yourself." Impa quietly said as Paya helped her out the carriage. "The official coronation won't begin until later. Right now the festival is in place and people will be roaming the castle as well." The elderly woman smiled and looked up at the castle. "It has been quite a long time since we have seen it in its full glory. Quite a long time indeed." She began walking down the dusty path, her granddaughter following close behind. "Now go on Link, enjoy yourself." He watched both of them walk around the corner of the castle before he himself went into one of the secret entrances inside. The only place he wanted to be right now was in his room, in his bed. That is exactly where he went. As he sprinted past those wandering the halls of his castle he could only think of how warm and comforting his bed would be. Successfully managing to escape the loudness of the crowd inside and out, Link sank into bed. He closed his eyes and imagined it was nighttime. He could even faintly Sidon's loud snore-like growls echoing in his little fantasy.A brief knock on the door was followed by a certain Zora poking his head inside Link's room. Both smiled at each other. Sidon entered and quickly shut the door behind him and sat down besides his friend."Long time no see, your highness." Sidon chuckled as Link rolled his eyes. "I had a feeling I would come to find you hiding in your room. Not that I'm blaming you. These people are ruthless party animals. They know no limitations when asking questions and educating themselves on us Zora. I have had several people asking me if I was going to grow to be the height of my father." He chuckled. "It is interesting. So many Hylians haven't seen a Zora in their life. I suppose my people and I have been more secluded from the rest of the kingdom then we thought." Link nodded. He felt a tad bit more at ease now that Sidon was here."Anyway," Sidon stood up excitedly and motioned for his friend to stand as well, "I had something special made for you. I realized the other that you had special earrings designed for special purposes as well as circlets. Now, I realize these hold no real power but I thought it would be a nice gesture. It is your coronation after all." The Zora Prince pulled out a small box, nothing fancy about it other than the light blue ribbon on it. "I do hope you like them."Link was expecting something relating to his newfound royalty. Perhaps it was some diamond earrings molded into the shape of the all important triforce. Maybe it was a ring or necklace with the same design. None of these possibilities were it. Inside the box was a pair of simple, yet beautiful earrings. These earrings were something special. They were made using luminous stones and molded into a rocky sort of shape. The stones glistened slightly in the sun, still beautiful, and would shine even brighter at night. Link smiled and took out the little blue earrings he always had on and replaced them with the new ones. Unlike the ones he had, these earrings didn't hang and weren't too heavy. They fit perfectly."You look wonderful, your highness." Sidon smiled, looking down at his handsome friend. The earrings twinkled in the sun and made Link's smiling seem brighter than ever. "Now then," The Prince of the Zora knelt down and offered The soon-to-be King his arm, "shall you and I make our way out and enjoy the festival." -This festival was one that was long overdue. With the kingdom taken over by evils like monsters and the Calamity, no one ever felt safe enough to celebrate anything. A few would be brave enough to devote their life to traveling and meeting new people outside their homes but not many. Now here they all were. The legends of grand festivals being held here, at the very door at the castle, and being allowed in was something many children wished they could experience. Now here they all were; Hylian, Goron, Rito, Gerudo, Zora, everyone. Here they were, together and happy. New friendships were made and new things were tried. Link made progress. He usually kept to himself but came out of his shell just a bit when surrounded by the friends he made and fought alongside when easing the Divine Beasts. When asked to demonstrate the rumored skills that were passed on to him by the spirits of the Champions, he showed them off in a heart beat. These good times didn't last all day. At one point Impa pulled Link aside, telling him it was now time. He walked away from his friends, his face changed from a smile to his usual blank expression, and followed Impa to a platform that was built last minute. Everyone's attention was turned to the elderly Sheikah woman as she slowly walked to the middle. Paya held a pillow wit the crown placed on top. Purah, who still looked like a six year old girl, held the Master Sword. The four leaders of the biggest sub-communities stood on the platform. In place of his father, Sidon stood there with Link. Kaneli and Bludo also stepped down from the honor of standing besides the new Hyrule Royal to allow Teba and Yunobo the oppurtunity given the fact that they did help Link ease their respective Divine Beasts.Everyone listened to Impa loudly speak about how she had helped Zelda and the late King Hyrule with preparations. They intently listened as she described every little detail she pulled from her memory of how Link was a very courageous knight and a very capable leader. Some people cried at the mention of how an intelligent and brave young woman Princess Zelda was. And finally, everyone cheered when Impa declared it was now time to officially crown the king. Link walked over. His gait was confident but he had his hands clenched to stop them from shaking too much. Since Impa was one of the few "officials" for the royal family that was left, she was the one to crown Link. Purah handed her younger sister the sword of legends. Both Link and Impa knelt down."O Goddesses, Farore, Naydra, Din, grant us your blessing." Impa held the sword in both hands and raised it high in the sky. "O Goddesses true and holy, we seek that with your blessing and permission you allow the light to flow to this sword in recognition of the new King of Hyrule and Hero handpicked by you three." The crowd was silent, all eyes now on the sword. After a moment the sword glowed a bright light. The crowd cheered, quieting down a moment later. "O Goddess Farore, Goddess of Courage, you have granted Link the power of courage and have used his mortal body to protect us. Grant him your blessing in leading us all." Impa and Link stood, she held the sword out so the grip was facing Link. His hands were shaking and he didn't understand why. He had held this sword before. He had pulled it from its place and had been accepted as its master. He shouldn't be nervous that it would suddenly reject him.Link took the sword in his hand and pressed it against his forehead. The Sword of Legend's light grew blindingly bright. The crowd cheered even more now. Link let out a little laugh of relief. At least now he knew the Goddesses were certain of their decision."With the blessing of the three great Goddesses, we shall proceed." Link knelt down once more, bowing his head a bit. Paya walked up to the both of them and handed her grandmother the golden crown. "With this crown placed upon your head you are promising to all of us here today that you will do anything in your power to protect this land and help us move towards a better, prosperous future like our ancestors wished. With the sword you hold in your hand you are renewing the vow you had made over one hundred years ago to stop the evils that lurk deep within Hyrule and use the power granted to you by the Goddess Farore in our favor. With the power of the Goddess Farore, Goddess of Courage, you have the capability to do anything for your kingdom." Impa held the crown in both of her small hands. It was now hovering above Link's head. "Going along with tradition you shall don the last name Hyrule." He nodded and held his breath. This was it. "With the power invested in me, as Hyrule's previous adviser," she began lowering the crown, "I now pronounce you, Link Hyrule. The new King of Hyrule." The crown was placed on his head and Link stood up. His hands were visibly shaking but no one cared, not even Link as he raised the still shining sword above his head as the crowd cheered for their new king. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "A King," King Dorephan began as he reclined in his throne, "is a leader, obviously. An example. I would say you have that aspect down. The entire kingdom knows your and your ancestors legacies. Now, a King is wise as well. You must not take yourself and only yourself into consideration. You have the lives of many rest on on your shoulders. Anything may affect those lives." Link listened intently. It had been a week since his coronation and he had done nothing he considered "kingly", now he was seeking the advice he remembered King Dorephan had offered him. He was sitting cross-legged in his Zora armor and greaves on the shiny wet floor of the throne room. He had set the crown aside at the beginning but King Dorephan asked him to place it back on his head. He liked seeing the small Hylian wear the crown. It made him proud."Now I understand that due to your gift you have uncontrollable bursts of immense courage. From what I remember my dear daughter telling me, you act as if you are immortal. You will have to find a way to reign that part of you in. I understand, in crucial times your training as a knight required you to act on instinct. However now you must think. If we are at the very beginnings of war you cannot simply send troops out without a battle plan. A King cannot wing it." Link nodded, feeling just a bit offended. "And as King, you must also consider other things for your kingdom aside from fighting. You now have the incredibly dull task of seeing how the kingdom's taxes get spent. Especially now what with the great need of repairs. However King Daphnes had placed experts to settle that task. I suggest you do that as well. If you had lived a normal life as a child you may know a thing or two about that part of your responsibility." The Zora King frowned. "However you did not live a normal childhood. You spent your days training to become the man you are today." Man. The word didn't sit well on Dorephan's tongue. Not for Link. He was a young boy, not a man yet. He was forced responsibility when he was a small child and now that he is a teenage boy he is having even more responsibility pushed on him. It saddened the Zora King."You can find the well known money experts in Hateno Village. If you so please I can send a Zora out to find one. You must also consider travel routes. In the days of the Calamity our merchants traveled aimlessly. It is now time to create paths to make sure they are safe." Link nodded. Beedle was the one that popped into his head for this job. He didn't know why but Beedle seemed to appear just about everywhere, he had to know the safer routes of the kingdom for merchants. "And trade is definitely a major aspect to a flourishing kingdom. Especially since our villages are so far apart. Trade routes can increase money being made and help us progress."The King looked down at Link. Link had been scribbling down notes the whole time. He didn't smile down at the boy. He didn't praise him for paying attention or for seeming so relaxed even if something this serious was being placed on him. He, instead, was angry, but only a little. The anger was unintentional and honestly unjustifiable. It wasn't Link's fault he happened to be the chosen one. It wasn't his fault at all but Dorephan still held some anger towards him for it. If he wasn't the chosen one he would've had a better life. He would've been happier. When Link looked up from his messy notes Dorephan spoke again."I am embarrassed to admit this, but I pray to the Goddesses that my son doesn't turn out like you." The Hylian was taken aback. That was...slightly rude. "Not to say I don't admire and respect you. But that is just it. I don't want him to be like you because I'm worried he may not be happy in life. I don't mean to be rude in any way, but I can see the emotions hiding underneath the skillfully used mask of stoicism you place on your face before talking to anyone. I can see the many years of hardships you have faced. And while I admire the trauma you have dealt with, I do not wish that kind of pain on my own kin." The King looked up and outside. The sun was high up in the sky and the happy chatter of his residents and travelers intermingled. Sidon was out there, among the Zora, telling tales of his adventures with the new King. "I have tried my best to prepare him to be a king, and I have tried my best to allow him to be a child. He is still fairly young for a Zora, I do not want his youth to be shrouded with the stresses of royalty."Link looked down at his lap. Guilt washed over him and thoughts of telling Sidon to return to his home immediately popped into his mind. He knew the Zora King meant no ill will and he knew the Zora King wanted whatever made his son happier. But that wasn't stopping Link from trying to come up with a plan to convince the Prince to go back."Forgive me." Dorephan sighed. "Again, I did not mean to upset you. I am simply a father trying to protect my only family from hurting any more than he already has. However I know I cannot protect him from everything. Emotions are one thing I cannot simply pick up and throw far away from my home. I will admit, he does seem to be more...active since you have returned to his life. Most of what I remember him doing is swimming deep into the depths of the water below us or simply floating in the waters near Vah Ruta. Often he would lock himself in his room and only come out to pray to his sister's statue. I believe you have done him well." The Zora smiled kindly and Link returned it with a smile of his own. "I must ask you one thing, it may be a bit too personal and you are more than welcome to deny an answer. How are you?" "I'm fine." The response was instant. Link didn't think much of the question and he didn't think Dorephan would read much into his response. The gigantic Zora leaned back and examined the Hylian King in front of him before speaking again."I understand, you are still not quite ready to talk. That's fine." Link rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "These things take time. Tell me, how are you since your coronation? I know you are inexperienced but how are you feeling about everything?""I..." Link faltered and lowered his hands. He sighed and began pacing. To be quite honest he didn't understand how he was feeling. He was excited, honored, proud. He was King of his home, he was the most important person in Hyrule. At the same time he was terrified. The dream he had not too long ago still crept into his mind and made him feel as if he was a failure of a King before he even begun doing his kingly duties. "I had a dream. Three- no, four. Four girls stood around me. With them there were five...five men? Some looked like men or at least mature teens. Then there were two boys. They all looked like me in some way. And there was a wolf too. It was..." Link racked his brain trying to figure out what part of his dream he would tell the King. He didn't want him to worry. "One of the boys wore a mask and stabbed me. That is it."Link walked more towards the entrance and looked outside, mentally debating whether or not he should mention what he had remembered of his life before the Calamity. Eventually he sighed and turned around, signing it out."I also...remembered something. Of myself when I was a child. I think...it was my mother and father? I'm not sure. I visited a home in Castle Towns when it was just ruins and I...remembered something." Link looked up to see the slightly surprised look of King Dorephan. This was certainly...something. Both of what he Link had confessed was...something. The Zora King sighed and thought for a moment but Link began signing again. "And I have been feeling...this is pretty damn embarrassing to say but...I think I have grown too dependent of Sidon." He lowered his hands, not giving any more detail but Dorephan didn't need any."Ah, that is something I am able to answer confidently. I'm going to let you in on a small secret, Your Highness, my son has been attempting nudge you into perhaps becoming more comfortable towards him. You see, since the day you arrived here with the very upsetting news of the Princess's death he felt the need to become the friend you hadn't had in a long while, so perhaps you being dependent on him isn't such a negative thing. However I do not recommend being completely reliant on Sidon, just enough to where you are able to feel comfortable enough to discuss things you need to get off your chest. I understand it may be hard but please, for your sake, make an effort." Link allowed a small smile to escape his stoic expression and nodded. What the Goddess had informed Link long ago about someone being his guide returned and now he was more sure than ever that it was Sidon.The two talked some more after that. King Dorephan explained certain things a King should do and what Link should probably do. Setting stronger relationships with the Goron, Rito, and Gerudo was one thing Link was tasked to do and was actually excited for. When all was said and done, Link began heading out but the Zora King stopped him once more."Son, before you go I would like to offer you one last piece of advice regarding your recent recollection of a childhood memory. As you travel Hyrule to strengthen the bonds between the sub-communities, do not be afraid to explore the land some more. Perhaps another memory will return. And...those five figures in your dream. That is something that can be answered in an old, ancient library buried deep within Hyrule Castle. It holds the history and secrets of those five and it may even help you in your own journey."Link smiled and thanked the King once more. He bowed and promised to return soon before he turned and began walking out. Sidon was playing with the Zora children. As he walked down the glittering stairs and thanked the Goddesses for someone like Sidon in his life. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "It would be wise to return to the castle before the sun sets." Sidon spoke quietly, opening an eye to glance over at Link. The two of them were spending a relaxing afternoon on the grassy field just south of the castle. The view was nice and the weather was wonderful. Link had brought along two of his horses to get some time to stretch their legs. The King of Hyrule was sitting on a tree, attempting to get a little nap but he hasn't managed to fall asleep.Link sighed rather loudly and nodded. Glancing over at Hyrule castle with a dissatisfied expression, he jumped down from the tree and begrudgingly headed towards Sidon. Both of them had been avoiding going to the secret library Dorephan had mentioned to Link. Link avoided it because he didn't want to learn anything from his bloodline's past that may upset him. Sidon avoided it because he didn't want to learn anything from Link's past that would upset him. However the two of them knew they couldn't tiptoe around it forever. Besides, Link had done one rather exhausting task and it might be nice to unwind in the library for hours.What was the task? Link had to track down Beedle and convince him to set his on-the-go shop aside just long enough to map out the safest areas of Hyrule for a merchant to travel to. Now this may seem like something easy, Beedle must've surely accepted this job in a heartbeat! He did not. Beedle had to be convinced by Link, not in rupees, but in beetles. It was quite amusing really. Half the roaming merchants got to see their King wear the Sheikah armor and crawl around on the ground silently to try to grab the rarest of beetles.Sidon and Link walked side by side. Link kept his sword out just in case. There was a very small chance of any monster or Yiga Clan member attacking but he had to be safe. Especially with Sidon around."You're quite adorable you know- when you're in what I like to call "protective mode."" Link's marching-like walk faltered as he looked up at Sidon with a look of confusion and slight embarrassment. "Don't take a offense by it! It's a compliment! You see, I've noticed when you're prepared to fight your ears tend to twitch back, mimicking a cat's ears or a dogs! You also have a habit of speeding up only to pause and stand there with the sword in your hand. Like I said, it's quite adorable." Link blinked and suddenly it was as if awkwardness had consumed him. He raised his hands up, and began signing his response. However his slight confusion and embarrassment intermingled with his tendency to be a bit too blunt and he embarrassed himself, and Sidon, more than he realized."I think you're adorable when you're looking at me and you think I don't notice." The Zora prince's eyes widened and he quickly looked straight ahead, clearing his threat."R-Right well. Shall we...er...discuss what we should be looking for the in library? Is there anything specific we should seek out first? We don't want to walk in blindly." Sidon asked quickly and awkwardly. Link didn't seem to notice the very obviously surprised and embarrassed Zora so he simply shrugged and responded normally."I suppose we start at the beginning, whatever that may be." Sidon nodded and the two walked in silence.~One characteristic of Link's that Sidon had the honor of remembering was the fact that he was extremely impatient. The King of Hyrule just slammed down the third book he had opened and was currently laying on the floor groaning in annoyance. The King then tossed a small pebble a foot away from Sidon to get the Zora's attention."This is impossible." Link signed to his friend, "I can't find one that could tell of the beginnings of Hyrule or anything of significance.""Patience, your highness." Sidon closed the book in his hands that detailed Hyrule Castle's older designs. Nothing too important but still interesting. "The books are old and there are many of them, one will be the one you're looking for. You just need to have the patience for it." Link rolled his eyes at that, crossing his arms as well. "I understand you're used to getting things when you want them what with you having control over your own life but these things take time." The Hylian somewhat annoyed face fell just a bit at the realization that Sidon was right. "I'll go fetch a cook to make us something to eat while we're in here. I know how much a good meal means to you." Link thanked Sidon, even offering him a half smile, just as Sidon stood up and ventured out into the castle.Now, he was alone. And feeling guilty. He really didn't deserve Sidon, all the Zora Prince did was give Link his constant affection and confidence and all Link did was whine and complain. He couldn't even find the one book they were looking for after hours upon hours of looking. He really was feeling hopeless. He could figure out complex puzzles created by the Monks in the shrines and solve difficult riddles that were made by old pirates trying to hide their treasure but he couldn't find a book. Why were the Goddesses mocking him?As if on cue, a soft golden glow emerged from a book on a bookcase hidden away in the corner. Link blinked and quickly got to his feet and scrambled to the book. It was still glowing as he took it in his hands but the light died down when he opened it.It was, obviously, an old book. The cover looked like it had been dragged across Hyrule a good couple times and it just smelled old. The gold lettering on the cover was peeling, as was the famous Hyrule symbol of the Triforce with the bird-type figure, but he could still make out the words "THE BEGINNINGS OF HYRULE AND THE LEGENDS OF SKYLOFT". The King grinned and silently thanked the Goddesses as he returned to his previous spot and began reading."Since the very beginning, Hyrule has always been a prosperous place. Though before it even took the name Hyrule, it was considered the strongest in all the land." Link sighed, skipping a few pages ahead. He didn't want to read about how Hyrule was so great even before it was Hyrule. Once he found a page that seemed interesting, he stopped and resumed reading. "The Goddess Hylia gathered a number of people, placing them on the tops of mountains and sending those mountain tops high into the sky. That land was named Skyloft and served as a safe haven or temporary home for the citizens while a war took place down below. However Skyloft soon became a permanent home due to the destruction of the land below. As Hylia led an army of soldiers against the Demon King's army, it has been said that a prisoner was released in order to help the cause. The prisoner was wrongly put away, chained by the wrists deep in the dungeons of an old castle, for prophesying the war and rise of Demise. He, however held no ill will once the soldiers asked for his aid and was determined to fight for the land he so loved. The war was fought valiantly and in the end, Demise was banished and all was at peace, however the land below Skyloft was destroyed. Not much has been recorded about the hero who took place on the red Loftwing, bird of the Goddess and part of Hyrule's official symbol, other than his name. Link, the Hero of the land of Hylia." Link promptly shut the book, placed it on the floor and and held his head in his hands. At that moment, Sidon returned from his mini-trip through the castle to find a cook. The Zora paused in the too-short doorway and tilted his head upon seeing Link in such a...scared looking position. He then noticed a book by his friend's feet and put two and two together."Link," Sidon awkwardly sat down next to the King, "Perhaps this is enough reading for one day. I do not wish for you to be too overwhelmed with-" The Hylian suddenly slammed his fist down on the rocky floor and shook his head vigorously. "No," He signed with one hand, "I need to keep going. I just need you to continue reading for me." The look in Link's eyes told Sidon not to argue with him. In fact that look told him if he didn't continue reading soon Sidon would witness something he may never forget. For a second Sidon was admittedly scared of his small friend, for a second that fear was there. It vanished as quick as it had appeared once Sidon remembered that Link would never do anything to hurt anyone who didn't pose a threat. In fact, the slight anger may have just been aimed towards himself and not Sidon."As you wish," Sidon cupped Link's cheek in one gigantic hand and smiled softly, "however do not hesitate to ask me to stop if things get too much for you. I understand." Just like that the anger vanished and Link looked as expressionless as ever. He nodded and slumped against Sidon, signing a quick apology for acting so rudely. Sidon felt slightly relieved and slightly concerned, however this wasn't a time to address anything. He had to read the book as promised. Once Link pointed out where to begin, the Zora cleared his throat and began."Much of Link has been kept from us. No one knows of his life before he was imprisoned and no one knows of any family, and sadly no one knows where his body was left after he met his death once winning the war. It has been said that the Goddess Hylia had placed both a blessing and a curse on the brave hero before she went on to live through a mortal. Using the magic she had hidden away with her people, she used Link's courageous spirit to awaken the power in the Master Sword. So to speak, Link never truly died as his spirit is the Master Sword itself. The Master Sword also houses Fi, the Spirit of the Sword, and Demise, the Demon King who had cursed both Link and the young girl Zelda who doubled as Hylia's mortal form to be haunted by his reincarnated rage." Sidon paused for a moment to turn the page. his hands were shaking just a bit. Now he understood why Link was acting the way he was. "The second thing Hylia had done to the Hero was give him the gift of eternal life. Again, using the magic she had entrusted with her people, she made it so the Hero could be reborn time and time again to defend the land he loved and defend his people. He was to be reborn no matter the outcome of the war and no matter the decisions he made. With this, the new hero was reborn having no recollection of his past life or any sort of interaction with the Goddess Hylia. Without these he was still the hero and a knight in training. He and Zelda, said to be a childhood friend of his, had been whisked away down to the Surface which had been left a monster-ridden waste land once the war with Demise was over. Much of what happened on the Surface is unknown. However from the little that has been told, a self-proclaimed Demon Lord had begun execution of his plan to revive the Demon King Demise. Demise never was revived in the sense that he wanted. Once Demise was sure to never return, both Zelda and Link returned to Skyloft before once again making their way back down to the Surface to protect the Triforce and establishing the Kingdom of Hyrule." "The Hero of Hyrule's next incarnation is yet to be revealed. The current oracles have had no sign of the next hero's return other than a small, blue instrument. No set date and no set threat has been revealed much to our relief-" Link rested a hand on the book and pushed it down slightly. Sidon nodded and closed it."It's amazing, isn't it?" Link's hands were slow with the words as if he had chains on his wrists. "What is?" Sidon looked down worriedly. The King sighed and leaned against the Zora more, finding comfort in him."The fact that I can never die, even if I die. I have...I am essential. I cannot die. I cannot...I cannot catch a break. I cannot...I am needed. Now and forever. I am...Hyrule's weapon." Looking down at his hands, Link frowned slightly. "My ancestor...I died for this kingdom and I am cursed to relive the anguish of battle and the pain of possible failure." "Do not think that way." Sidon slammed the book shut and the sound echoed through the stairway that led back up into the castle. "This curse is something horrible, yes, but I believe the Goddess did not intend to make you suffer purposely! You must think of this reincarnation as a trait of the Gods." Link raised an eyebrow, clearly not understanding the meaning behind what Sidon had said. "Listen, my dear. You are clearly one powerful soul. You have fought for centuries, even if it technically wasn't you, against the forces of evil! You have become a living legend! You have been entrusted with the Goddesses with their beloved land in more than one way. You are a strong and courageous person. Not in the sense of physical fitness and in how brave you are in the face of Ganon but in the sense that you and your past selves have been through much turmoil and yet you still choose to fight for what you believe to be right!""I have held many of my feelings towards you back, in all honesty. However I now know this is a time to share my true emotions! Link, I admire you. You are the bravest soul I have ever met. With no recollection of your life one hundred years ago you still freed the Champions and defeated the Calamity. With no real memory of yourself you still put yourself aside and decided to claim the crown and rule this kingdom. You have saved me countless times on our adventures and you have been an excellent friend to all. Often times you believe that you have failed us all and that you hold no relevance now that everything has been said and done, however that is not true. Even if all of Hyrule agrees that you have used up your usefulness, which will never happen, I will always be there for you. You are my most treasured friend and I cannot begin to explain how much I value you!"Link's face was warm and his eyes were wide. He didn't know if the blushing was from the the amount of compliments Sidon just showered him with or with or maybe it was the fact that Sidon was clasping Link's hands tightly in his own and his face was about two inches away."You will always hold a very special place in my heart, Link. Everything you've accomplished makes me unbelievably proud and every little thing you do brings great joy to my heart. It pains me to see you be so hard upon yourself and while I disagree with the way you think yourself to be, I will fight until you see yourself the way I see you. Link, I hold no shame in saying that I do love you." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It hasn't occurred to a great many in the kingdom that Link was still a child. They all thought of him as the Hero that saved Hyrule, as the King, as the hylian that knew no boundaries and would pick a fight with a Lynel or the Calamity again if he wanted to. No one really dwelled on the fact that he was mentally still a teenage boy. No one really thought about how he had spent 100 years asleep. No one thought of Link as a child which was why it was such a shock to both Teba and Kass when Link went to them for help. Romantic help.Perhaps the most surprising part of the whole "romantic help" question was the part where Link mentioned Sidon to be the love interest. The two Rito cast each other rather confused looks. The King of Hyrule was having a romantic-related crisis involving the Prince of the Zoras. Neither Kass nor Teba knew how to react or respond in a situation like this."...so I don't understand what he meant." Link finished explaining, looking at both Ritos in front of him. "Do you think he meant it in a simple, platonic manner just to stop my self loathing or was he being serious?""Perhaps..." Kass begun uncertainly, glancing over to Teba and silently asking for help if he managed to muck up his answer, "it is best to consult the Goddesses. Farore would be the best chose considering your...connection to her." Teba rolled his eyes."No, listen, we don't know what to tell you in all honesty. In fact, we don't even know why you came to us with such a personal question.""Because you're both fathers and the closest thing I have to a father." Oh. Oh Hylia why did Link have to say that. Teba and Kass' eyes widened slightly, a small wave of sadness washing over them."Well, we're both certainly very honored to be considered father figures to you, aren't we Teba?" The other nodded as Kass spoke. "And...I suppose we could...help in some way though we don't really know how to.""I liked your idea, praying to Farore for advice." Teba grunted. He turned just a bit and pointed towards the set of long, winding stairs that led up and down the Rito Village. "Just go down to the Goddess statue we have and pray to your hearts content." "No, if i'm going to do that i'm going to do it right. We can go to the Spring of Courage." "But...the path up to the spring is a treacherous one." Kass chuckled nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I should know, I spent many days around that area avoiding monsters and lightning strikes. We will surely be fatally injured if not killed!" Link scoffed and waved the statement away."Kid, while I know you're fully capable of running up there and defeating every monster and managing to escape every strike of lightning, we are not. We are, sadly, much weaker than you in the lightning-proof department and I sure as hell cannot handle an entire horde of monsters surrounding me. I'm sure Kass can't either, an accordion and a good singing voice won't stop a Moblin from clubbing us down.""It's true." Kass sighed. "I've attempted to pacify monsters with music before. Turns out it only makes them more hostile." Again, Link scoffed and waved the worry away. Instead of offering a very self-absorbed comment on how Link could "protect the two of them from anything", he instead reached around to open the small pouch he kept attached to the back of his belt. He reached inside and pulled out two objects (that really had no physical way to fit in such the tiny pouch). One was a pair of Topaz earrings and the other was the famed Thunder Helm of the Gerudo. Both Rito looked at each other for a second before sighing, and each taking one object. Kass attacked the earrings to his scarf while Teba attempted to find a place for the helm (he ended up strapping it onto his thigh). By the time the two looked up Link had changed into the slightly terrifying Barbarian armor.They had no choice. Link seemed determined to go with the two of them and after Link admitting to seeing them as father figures they couldn't just decline. The King of Hyrule clambered onto Teba's back. Excitement was clear on his face and actions but neither of the two Rito were the slightest bit excited. With a nod from Link, the two Rito flew up into the sky and took off to the Spring of Courage.-Link had managed to defeat every monster in their way and were over half way to the Spring. Behind them were the corpses of slain Lizalfos, Moblins, and Bokoblins that nearly all bled an odd purple color that was similar to the paint of Link's outfit. Neither Kass nor Teba mentioned that, however. No matter how uncomfortable the thought made them.The King of Hyrule had found a small cave just big enough for the three of them and a camp fire. Link had made them all a nice meal of seared fish as well as shared the sweeter foods he had baked before venturing out. Kass was playing his accordion, the soothing song of his late teacher rang throughout the empty woods around them as Teba plucked the twigs and leaves out of his feathers. Link had taken it upon himself to keep guard, as he rested on the ground he was sure to listen for any sign of a monster. The music stopped and Kass sighed."I don't mean to be rude Link- your highness, but I have to ask how you can handle fighting all the time." Link tilted his head. "I understand that you had to fight for survival and for the fate of the kingdom once upon a time but now the need for it is over.""It's the only thing I know how to do at this point." Link signed in response. "When I woke up, I had to protect the kingdom. I didn't know anything about anything, I didn't know my name or where I was, but I knew how to fight. It's what I'm built for. I suppose that's why I continue to look for small fights to pick with monsters." "Yeah but kid, you can't just keep living your life fighting every evil thing you see. If you do, you'll have died as nothing more than a fighting machine.""Wrong." Link turned his body to face more towards the two and continued. "I will have died doing something that will protect the people I care for and I will have died doing something that makes the heroes before me proud. Although...it would be nice to not fight as often as I do. I suppose that is why I like Sidon so much.""Because he reminds you that you are more than just a machine built by the Goddesses image?" Kass murmured. The King nodded and looked at the crackling fire in front of him. "It's silly to think of but I believe every hero before me has had this issue. And maybe every hero before me has had someone to make them believe they're more than a weapon." A frown slowly placed itself on Link's face, his hands lowered just a bit as if to signify the sadness in his words before he began signing again. "And perhaps every hero before me has had doubts that they deserve that person, or if that person does care for them..." Kass and Teba glanced at one another, sharing a silent look that showed clear worry for the young King. "This is why I want to go to the Spring of Courage. Maybe an answer will be given to me. Maybe I'll know if what he said was genuine in the way I believe it was meant. I don't want to just assume and do something that may offend him and...disgrace the memory of Mipha."Awkward silence filled the cave only to be disturbed a second later by Teba. He cleared his throat and looked at Link. Teba wasn't going to just sit there and allow anyone to wallow in pity so he had to quickly come up with a distraction. As a father he learned that that was the best way to keep a child from bawling on the floor and potentially embarrassing you and themselves."As a young Rito I heard stories of Revali. I have to ask, was he as nice or as great as the they painted him to be?" Link snorted."When I landed on Vah Medoh the first thing he said to me was a complaint on how long I had kept him waiting. The first memory of him I recalled was where he basically deemed me less than fit to get rid of Ganon and called himself a better archer." Link smiled a bit. "No, he wasn't as nice to me. However to the others...I can only assume he was. And if he had gotten past being called my "support" in the whole fight then he and I may have been great friends. As bad as that all sounds if he were alive in that Divine Beast still, I would've done anything in my power to save him. He didn't see me as a friend but I see him as one. And...if I had the chance to talk to him again then I'd thank him for the help.""You're truly a kindhearted one, Link. Hyrule is lucky to have you and I'm sure Revali is more than grateful for you releasing his soul." Kass smiled as he tossed another stick in the dying campfire."In all honesty, it is kind of depressing always seeing Revali whenever I use the gift he gave me." Teba perked up just a bit hearing this. He had seen Link show off Revali's Gale before, but he was hoping perhaps he could see it once more. Revali was a great Rito and although not many talked about him, he would always be Teba's role model."I don't wanna be rude or anything...but..." Link stood up before Teba could finish and walked farther out the cave. The King jumped and knelt down on the ground. It wasn't long before the ground began to shake and Link was thrown up into the air by a forceful wind. The spirit of the Rito Champion Revali flew up besides Link and made a "there you go" type motion with his hand just before disappearing until the next time Revali's Gale would be used.-None of the three were really considered huggers, however once Link reached the Spring and reassured them that he could pray to Farore on his own suddenly he was being taken up in big, feathery arms. It was nice spending time with the two. Link felt as if he had a small family for just a moment. He had even felt comfortable enough to dwell on his previous friendship with Revali and talk more of his experiences with both Kass and Teba. But now the two were back in the sky and flying home. Link was left alone in the cold waters with the Master Sword in hand. He took no more than an hour there. Most of the time was spent on himself and not any actual communication with the Goddess. Link debated several possibilities where Sidon did in fact mean he loved him romantically, and some where Sidon meant he loved Link as a way to help Link feel less horrible about himself. In the end, Link received an answer from Farore. It wasn't one he wanted to hear, but it was one he needed to hear. His journey back home was much quicker than the journey to the Spring. It was simply a quick tap on the Sheikah Slate and suddenly he was standing in the docks underneath his castle. Link stood there a minute, looking down at the water underneath. Without a second thought he changed into his Zora armor and dove in. Hours later, Sidon found Link swimming around in the Castle's moat. Sidon couldn't even begin to question Link before the Hylian dashed through the water and embraced the Zora Prince. Sidon was caught off guard but he hugged back nonetheless. Even with the surprise of the sudden hug and even with the noise of the small waves (created with the movement) splashing against the moats walls, Sidon could've sworn he heard the faintest "thank you." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Sidon held the old book in his hands as Link stayed leaning against his side. They were on the second hero's adventure and more and more things were discovered of Link's past. He was, at one point, part of a tribe of tree children and technically the son of the Great Deku tree. The Link in this period of time had also fallen asleep, the only difference was Link had slept for one hundred years and the other hero slept for seven years. Surprisingly enough, the Zora Princess had fallen in love with the "Hero of Time". That little fact only made Sidon feel guilty for his own feelings towards Link. Clearly the Zora's have always had a thing for Link but usually it was the Princesses. There was no page on a Zora Prince.Sidon pushed that out of his head and continued reading to his beloved friend. This Link was the child of the Great Deku Tree, technically. He was part of a tribe under the Deku Tree's watch but it worked the same way. This Hero also possessed a powerful instrument called an "Ocarina". It supposedly had the power to change the flow of time. The "Ocarina of Time" doubled with the Temple of Time which was what Link had slept in for seven years. Much to Sidon's- and partially Link's- surprise the Temple of Time was still standing in the Great Plateau. Whether it was the exact same temple as before or not, it didn't matter. Link had already made plans to explore that ruined temple more and hopefully find the Ocarina itself. The book they were reading said that there was rumors of the instrument being locked away there or lost forever. Link hoped it was the former.As Sidon continued reading the words written by their ancestors he kept a close eye on Link. He watched his facial expressions change with every new bit of information. He began noticing smaller things such as how his eyes would light up with excitement whenever a new piece of information on Hyrule was before, on the people, the different races, on the enemy himself. However whenever Link (The Hero of Time in this case) was mentioned, his face grew dark and somewhat guilty. His expression turned sour as his eyes would avert to the ground and his ears would very subtly point downward just a bit. Then, Sidon would read the next page on the hero's great and legendary horse, Epona, and his face would light up again. It was an interesting change in his mood and Sidon made a mental note to ask why Link did that another day.Late in the afternoon when the book was over and done with. Link stood, stretched, yawned, and began walking up the stairs back into the castle. Sidon stayed back for just a bit, assuring Link he would be up soon. He sat there with the book in his large hands, it was opened to a page with an illustration of princess Ruto. It was amazing how much Zora's have evolved over the years. I'm Sidon's opinion, Zora's seemed more....fish-like back then than now. It didn't matter, the Zora's would always be an extremely strong race no matter what their physical appearance was!A few moments passed, Sidon silently wondered how his ancestor had managed to even grab Link's attention in a romantic way, before he finally put the book back on its rightful place on the proper shelf. Sidon sighed and began going up the many stairs that led into the castle. He hadn't lost faith in his (hopefully) future relationship with the Hero of the Wild. In fact he was a tad bit more confident knowing a Zora from the past had managed to reel in that Hylian! He was going to give it all he has and if Link...happens to reject him then so be it. Sidon would never let that affect them. He would continue to support him in any way possible. He would bear the pain and continue to show his love for Link in his motivation for him.Servants buzzed around the castle. Link never actually wanted people in Hyrule Castle, not even if they were servants. He believed he could take care of the whole castle on his own! Plus he didn't want to seem like a power hungry King by having servants. Sidon managed to convince Link that having people working in the castle to keep it tidy would not make him seem power hungry at all. Besides, he wasn't forcing people to be servants. Many, if not all, of those working in the castle did so willingly. The glamour of the newly remodeled building was their motive for working here and they loved spending nearly every minute of every day admiring the beauty of it. To Sidon, the servants were more than just servants. They also served as a sort of monitor for Link. Sidon had secretly asked those working in the parts of the castle Link most often visited to keep an eye on him. Nothing too crazy, just making sure Link was being taken care of and fed and all those basic things. Yes it sounds insane that the King of Hyrule needs to be checked to see if he has eaten yet but Link still hasn't managed to get used to a proper eating schedule or eating at all. Sidon knew this was probably a bit too overprotective but he just wanted to make sure Link didn't accidentally go days without food. This Kingdom can't afford to lose another leader.Sidon's room was directly across from Link's. His room was new, actually. New to Sidon. Usually the Zora Prince slept out in the moat but Link figured since he was spending so much time at the castle he might as well sleep inside. So he brought in the water beds from Zora's Domain and plopped it in the room across from his own. Link was originally going to ask Sidon to sleep in his room with him but he didn't want anything to be weird. Not yet at least.So there was Sidon. Door to his room closed behind him and a special project in front of him. That would be acknowledged a little later but for now Sidon sat on his bed and breathed in deeply, closing his eyes. He thought of the things he had planned to do today and how little time he really had. Then he thought of Link and how he was planning on going to the ruins of the Temple of Time. Hylia, he couldn't make it up there if his life depended on him but he knew Link would ask to accompany him. But Sidon couldn't. Not today. He glanced over at the special project and sighed. He had been working on it since he had the idea of creating his own Zora armor for Link and yet it still wasn't finished. No, it wasn't Zora armor. He knew better than to make Link another one. That armor was a gift from Mipha and of course Sidon made one of his own for Link. He would feel as if he were dishonoring his dear sister in making more Zora to proclaim his love for the Hylian. Instead he made something more to Link's standards. Something he'd love very much and would most likely use every day (though Sidon didn't want him to use it every day). Though the Prince had very little skills in terms of creating the actual gift, he had a rather close family friend help him.Loud rustling was heard just outside the Zora's door and he instantly knew that it would be time for Link to come knocking and invite him out for another adventure. He stood, took in another deep breath to compose himself, and opened the door. Standing just outside was Link in his casual, travelers attire (and mandatory crown) with his fist in the air. The King smiled up to his Zora friend and raised his other hand in there to begin signing his invitation. Before Link could even spell out a single word Sidon spoke."I apologize my dear friend, I cannot accompany you today. I fear I have some chores to take care of here at the castle. However I will eagerly wait for your return later this day to hear all about your adventure. Please forgive me." Link's face fell slightly but he nodded. He stood there awkwardly a moment before signing a quick goodbye. Sidon wasn't going to let him go that easily, however. "Woah there, your majesty. Don't believe you can just leave without a proper goodbye." Sidon knelt down and hugged the small Hylian tightly, but not too tightly of course. He had gotten into the habit of hugging Link goodbye. He learned that the physical contact made Link feel loved and appreciated and it just made Sidon happy. The two broke apart and the Zora Prince gave his friends a few departing words of encouragement before the King jogged down the hallway, around the corner, and out of sight.Finally.Sidon quickly shut the door behind him once more and plopped down on the bed. His project was staring him straight in the eye and Sidon knew that if he didn't finish it soon he never would. With a long, exasperated sigh he mentally prepared himself and picked up the half-done gift to try to get closer to its completion. Hopefully by the time Link returned he'd have at least half of it finished.-"What do you mean he hasn't returned? He must've returned at some point in the night!" A member of the new Royal Guard yelled out to a gatekeeper in a panicked tone. "Why didn't anyone bother to accompany him? He is the King of Hyrule!""He...He's also the Hylian Champion who defeated the Great Calamity and....survived on his own in the wilderness surrounded by Lynels, Bokoblins, Moblins, and Lizalfos for a fairly long time...Not to mention he, uh, reclaimed the Divine Beasts..." a new soldier in training piped up. She was a Zora and had always heard rumors of how amazing a fighter Link was. She believed he was fit to take care of himself. Too bad her commander didn't share her opinion."Yes but he is the KING of HYRULE! If he is to die then...then this Kingdom is doomed! Again!" The Royal Guard Knight continued his angry yelling just outside of Link's empty room to the small group of underclass soldiers. Unluckily for Sidon this also happened to be just outside his bedroom door. For a moment he attempted to stifle the yells but once he heard the words "Link" and "missing" being used he shoot up and stumbled to open the door."What do you mean Link has gone missing?!" Sidon boasted before he even managed to pry open the door. "He was only to go to the ruins in the Great Plateau and return!""Your highness," all knights bowed and averted their eyes as the Royal Guardsman spoke to Sidon, "It seems the King of Hyrule has not yet returned from-" a thunderous roar echoed throughout the castle and cut off the Royal Guardsman mid-sentence. Outside shrill screeches were heard followed by another roar. A moment hadn't passed and yet half the soldiers and soldiers in training were rushing to see what the ruckus was about."Oh dear Hylia!" Sidon yelled as he watched the epic battle between Link and a Lynel unfold far too close to Castle Town. Link was smacked right into the town square by the gigantic bat-looking weapon the Lynel held. The King wasted no time in springing to his feet and sprinting towards the silver monster. The Lynel was charging straight to the gate into Castle Town and it was at this time that Sidon ordered the Royal Guard Commander to hurry down and protect the residents. In the moment that he tore his eyes away from Link, Link had managed to mount the savage monster and steer him a somewhat safe distance away from the town. The monster didn't like that so of course it grabbed the small King and flung him down onto the ground. Another thunderous roar ripped through the air and Link had barely enough time to dodge a deadly swing from the Lynel. While the beast prepared for another attack, the Hylian pulled out his bow and shot an array of three arrows. While the monster was down he took this opportunity to lunge at the beast and attack. At this point the soldiers were making a protective barrier in front of the open gate of Castle Town. The residents were standing behind them and watching in fear, shock, and some amazement as Link continued to attack the beast. The Lynel quickly recovered, shoved Link to the ground rather forcefully and slammed its weapon down on the ground creating a dome of fire around them. Before the fire died down a rumble rippled through the air and all was silent. Out of the dust came a whistle which Sidon immediately recognized as the one Link used to call for his horses. He looked down to where he last saw the King of Hyrule only to see him now standing on the corpse of the silver Lynel, holding what looked like the Ocarina and had a gigantic smile on his face. Link was looking in Sidon's direction, holding the Ocarina with a big 'ol thumbs up accompanying it. As if nothing had just happened, Link slid off the Lynel and walked cheerily to the town's entrance. "Oh dear Hylia!" Sidon wheezed out as he turned away from the window he was staring through and leaned against the wall. He was out of breath and his heart was beating a million beats a minute. "Oh my...oh Goddess..." Sidon had fought Octoroks and the Divine Beast Vah Ruta but nothing was as terrifying and nerve racking as watching Link battle a Lynel. "My Prince!" A Zora soldier- the one from earlier- quickly ran over to the wheezing prince. "Shall I help you back to your room? Shall I seek some medical attention?" Sidon shook his head and waved the soldier's helping hand away."Thank you, my dear, but I am fine..." Inhaling deeply, Sidon attempted to compose himself. He fixed his posture and stood tall. His heart was still racing but at least he wasn't gasping for air like before. "Please, do me a favor and inform the King that I wish to see him. No, tell the King I demand to see him at once." The Zora soldier nodded and hurried off. However she didn't need to go very far. A second later Link came sprinting in. He ran into the the poor Zora, smearing a mixture of his and the Lynel's blood on her, apologized quickly and scrambled to Sidon."Oh Hylia, Link you're dying!" Link looked confused, very confused. He tilted his head at Sidon. Sidon of course, meant that Link was bleeding a bit too much for comfort and it looked like his injuries were fatal. However Link seemed just fine despite these dangerous looking injuries. "Oh Goddess...come, come this way." Sidon practically dragged the Hylian into his room (thankfully his nearly finished gift was put away and out of sight) to try to find perhaps fairy tonic to try to fix Link up. "Sit here." Sidon pointed to his bed and began digging through various cabinets. It wasn't long before Link began to notice the immense lack of blood in his body and how Sidon was probably right to worry, however Link didn't really think much of his current state. He laid himself down, closed his eyes, and relaxed. For just a moment his body let go. In that moment a pale blue light enshrouded the Hylian King and Mipha's soft voice rang out that it was her pleasure. A split second later and Link was fully healed and felt like he had energy to spare.Sidon paused for a second. Hearing his sister's soothingly familiar voice always made him sad inside. He didn't believe he would ever get used to hearing it no matter how many times Link was saved from the brink of death from her healing gift. The Zora Prince put a stop to what he was doing and turned around. Link was sitting there with his wounds all healed and blood gone. A nice grin was plastered on his face as he looked at Sidon with pure excitement. Clasped in his hands was the same Ocarina he was proudly displaying earlier. "Ah, I see your trip to the Temple of Time proved itself to be worthy." Sidon spoke softly. "You have found the seemingly lost ancient instrument." Link shook his head rapidly, a grin still on his face. He set the ocarina aside to explain himself as Sidon slowly seated himself besides his friend."No, I couldn't find the Ocarina at all. There was no secret doors or anything so I started thinking, maybe to access that room I needed one of my own! So I made one!" Sidon looked over to the instrument again and noticed things he hadn't before. For one, this one was a nice shade of wooden brown instead of the royal blue ocarina they had seen in the book. This ocarina was also a bit...rough around the edges. It wasn't smooth and clearly was made by someone not too experienced with carving. "Once I made it I tried to play the song the book had but nothing happened.""Is this why you took so long to return?" Link shook his head once more."No. For some reason I felt too...at home in the Temple with this in my hands. I stayed up and played the song for hours and something just felt so right." Sidon nodded, not quite sure what Link meant but he somewhat understood. "After a while I began thinking of myself and eventually you. I don't know why or how but while playing the ancient song in the book I managed to completely blow that off and created something new. I've dedicated it to you since you were on my mind at the time." Sidon felt his cheeks flush just a bit and his eyes widen. "Maybe one day I'll play it for you. Once it's finished." Link stood and stretched, completely oblivious to the blushing Zora. "Oh!" Link resumed signing, this time with one hand so he could use the other to pull out whatever it was he was reaching for in his too-small pouch attacked to his hip. "That Lynel was also for you. Not the actual monster but the goods you can scavenge from it once you defeat it." He pulled out a diamond, a star fragment, and pieces of the actual beast including its oddly colored insides (ew). Link smiled widely at Sidon who simply stared down at the loot in his hands before looking back up at Link. "I'm going out to apologize to the soldiers and Castle Town. I'll see you at dinner though- I'll ask the kitchen staff to prepare your favorite meal." Link walked out of Sidon's room with his ocarina and left the poor shark prince alone with the nice though admittedly gross gifts. However one thing in the small pile of treasure caught Sidon's eye. He gently pushed aside the diamond and Lynel horn to reveal what was hidden underneath; a beautiful blue nightshade. What? Lynels don't drop flowers. Why was it in the pile of gifts given to Sidon? Unless...Link had scavenged for one on Hyrule Field. Oh no, he was blushing again.As he stared down at the gifts given to him Sidon's face only reddened even more. The fact that Link had gone out of his way to gather some pretty unusual gifts, created a song on a replica of an ancient instrument, and just flat out thought about Sidon when he was off on an adventure for himself only assured Sidon that he was most certainly the one for him. With a surge of motivation Sidon stood and pulled out the nearly completed gift. It would be done and whatever would happen between the two of them would be up to the Goddesses. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "They say that after the Hero of Time left to find a friend he had lost, he accidentally stumbled upon a land not a part of this world but made entirely in the mind of evil. Not much is known about this land or the evil the Hero of Time had to face given that it was on an entirely different plane of existence but the Oracles have called this land Termina." Sidon turned the page of the ancient book as Link listened intently. As usual, Link was leaning against the Zora Prince. His eyes were closed and he was at ease. It was nice listening to Sidon read, Link thought his voice was very...soothing. Comforting? Whatever it was Link liked listening to it."The evil was said to be placed in a mask shaped like a heart with two vibrant yellow eyes that glowed when it expelled its horrendous magic. They say the mask, Majora's Mask it was called, was powerless on its own but with a vessel it was something to be feared. Unfortunately for the Hero of Time he had met a forest child who had been possessed by the mask. The wearer then, with the help of the mask, turned the hero into a Deku (said to be an ancient relative of the forest children "Koroks") and took his Ocarina and beloved steed. From there the Hero of Time faced many more challenges. Some of which being turned into several more races of Termina such as a Goron and a...a Zora." Sidon paused for a moment, partly because he could feel Link's discomfort with this Hero and partly because he was somewhat shocked that at one point in time Link had become an actual Zora...technically."Shall I continue?" Link hesitated but he nodded. Sidon cleared his throat and continued. "The Oracles described the peril this Hero faced as "something too dark for a child that age, even if he had already fought for life and death". Majora's Mask had the power to possess the good protectors of the different corners of this land and torment its poor inhabitants. The masks the Hero collected (Deku, Zora, Goron, etc.) were described as the faces of the dead. A Deku Scrub who had the caught the heart of the Deku Princess had died so his spirit (and essentially his face) had become a mask for the Hero to wear and transform himself into a Deku Scrub whenever he pleased. This same detail applies to other masks. In the end, the masks were all used to obtain a final mask to stop the moon from falling and killing all of those in Termina. That was Majora's Mask ultimate plan."Link put his hand on the book, memories of the horrific dream he had the night before his coronation came flashing into his mind. The poor boy...the poor Hero. His story was the most terrifying he's heard so far, being transported to another realm of existence only to be forced to wear the faces of the dead to stop the moon from killing all those who lived there."Shall we head back up the Castle, My King?" Sidon murmured as he placed on hand Link's back. Link shook his head and instead stood up, going back to the shelf. He pulled a black book off the shelf, once the light hit the cover luminous green designs began shining. "Are you sure you want to continue? It's perfectly fine if you wish to stop and take a break, in fact we can break right now and return in a bit to continue if you'd like." Link thought for a moment and nodded. A break could be nice, he hasn't had a snack in a while. "I shall meet you back here in two hours then. Enjoy yourself out there." Link smiled, quickly signing a thank you before he sped up the stairs.His first stop was, of course, the kitchen. A chef was already in there preparing dinner. Link casually strolled in and sneakily grabbed a fruit pie left on the table closest to the door. In its place he left a silver rupee. With a pie in his hand he walked to his room and began chowing down.The fruit pie was nice, but the food didn't distract him from the horrible knowledge of knowing the Heroes before him had to endure horrific things. To think that a child, a child, only went off to find a fairy friend got caught up in the evil plans of a mask. To think that this child had to save everyone in three days and to do that he had to wear the faces of the dead. And that same child was himself. It made Link sick to his stomach.He began thinking about that Hero again, how his dream had showed him. The mask on him, the way his voice in the dream sounded so horrifying and excited yet scared at the same time. How he was twitching uncontrollably, how he just seemed unstable. That mask was definitely something to be feared if it could cause so much chaos.The King of Hyrule set aside the empty plate and shook his head. He wasn't going to dwell on the mask, he didn't want to think about how that Child Hero had probably been traumatized over something as terrifying as Majora's Mask. He attempted to distract himself, eyes darting around the room for any kind of distraction. They landed on the small rusty sword he had hung up.Link smiled and stood, slowly taking the sword off its plaque and held it tightly. The last time he held that sword it had been when he had recovered a memory of his own, not about Zelda or his duty. Since then he's had no luck in finding areas where he could recall something of his childhood or even himself as a knight. He had even prayed to the Goddesses for more memories! Nothing.Link stared at the sword for a second, as if expecting it to begin glowing and lead him to another memory. As expected it didn't happen and the Hylian sighed, returning the rusty sword to its place on the wall. Oh well. So much for that theory. As he returned to his bed (hoping to get a little nap in) he heard something...familiar. It sounded like hollow wood hitting each other because of a breeze. It sounded like...trees rustling. Wait, was that a laugh?It was a Korok.The Hylian swung his window open and poked his head far outside to try to get a better clue at where the sound was coming from. Luckily for him he didn't have to use too much brainpower because two Koroks dropped out the sky, they were right above Link's window, and onto the Castle's path down below. The two seemed to be running (as much as they could with their incredibly short legs) and this only made Link more curious as to why they were here. Without skipping a beat Link jumped out his window and made an attempt to paraglide over to the two Koroks. A thick, white fog enveloped Link and all he could hear was the taunting laugh of the forest children.When his feet touched the ground the fog lifted. He was in the Lost Woods Link stood still for a second. This seemed a bit too convenient. He was just thinking about how he hadn't regained any of his personal memories and now he's been suddenly transported from Hyrule Castle to the Lost Woods? It felt like the Goddesses were trying to mess with him, just a bit. Nonetheless Link sighed and took out his Sheikah slate to transport instantly to the shrine that rested at the Great Deku Tree's side. Just his luck, the Sheikah slate picked up no sign of any shrine nearby. Looks like he had to walk.As he attempted to make his way back into the Korok Forest he wondered what kind of memory this would be. A good one like before, or maybe a bad one? Would it have his family? His old friends (if he had any as a child that is)? Would it involve backstory on himself and just himself? Whatever the case may be he was just happy he'd get a piece of himself back.It took days, hours, minutes to get through the thick fog and trees. The dead and dying trees with the faces carved on them smiled down at Link as he finally reached the small clearing that led straight into the Korok Forest. Link couldn't run fast enough, he nearly tripped over his own feet as he sprinted away from the fog and into the comforting sight of the Koroks playing around with sticks and leaves. "Ah, I see you've made it here." The Great Deku Tree spoke softly , a hint of sadness in his voice. Link didn't remember the last time he had visited his ancient friend, he couldn't even remember if he had told him of Zelda's passing but he was sure he knew somehow. "I assumed this ring of light was meant for you." Link nodded as he approached the same glowing light he had seen before, this time it was placed just in front of where the Master Sword stood for a hundred years. "Go on then, I'll be waiting for you to come to." The Hylian nodded again and hesitantly stepped into the glowing circle.-"Go on then, Link." Link blinked and looked up to see a man standing next to him, holding his hand. He was a young boy and this man, this man with piercing blue eyes and dirty blond hair, appeared to be his father. Link smiled up at his father and his father smiled back but there was a hint of sadness in the smile. "Go on, son. The King would like to see you do this one task. He wants to...test something." "Did I do something wrong?" Link asked, his own voice surprising himself just a bit. His father chuckled lightly and knelt down, placing both hands on his shoulders. "Not at all. But when you saved the princess the other day he has something he wants to see." "Does it have to do with the triangle on my hand?" Link tilted his head and looked down at his right hand. The Triforce glowed dimly on his skin. "It's cool, isn't it? The Princess and I have matching ones. The whole Kingdom has this thing on every banner. Does this make me important?" His father smiled sadly again and nodded."Yes, very important. But before he says you really are important he needs to test you. Now the test is simple, just get through the forest. There will be someone...special waiting for you at the end. They'll take you back to the castle and I'll be waiting there for you, I promise." Link nodded and let go of his father's hand, walking to the edge of the forest. "I'll see you soon, Link." Link turned around to wave to his father but the fog blocked his vision and he was forced to walk straight ahead where it was a bit clearer.He was scared but something told him that there was no reason to be afraid, so he swallowed his fear and bravely began walking. The tall trees towered above him and cast spooky shadows on the ground. The air made the thin branches move and creak. For some reason Link heard giggling too..."Master, I am here waiting for you." Link yelped and turned around. No one was behind him so where did the voice come from? "I will guide you to me if you allow me to do so.""Who...Who are you?" Link shouted a bit too loud. His tiny hands were balled up into fists as he desperately tried to find the source of the voice. "It is I, Fi. I see you require my assistance to find me." He realized the voice came from no where and everywhere at once. He couldn't tell if she was good or bad but from the sound of her monotone voice she only wanted to help him. "Okay, come out and help me!" Link grabbed a stick off the floor and held it out like a sword, just in case. "While I can no longer leave the sword," Fi floated into view of the amazed child, "I can offer you this projection of how my physical form once looked." Link's eyes were wide and his mouth was agape. Fi looked like a ghost, a beautifully monochromatic, nearly transparent ghost. "You are not my master yet, but I can sense him it in you so therefore I will call you Master. Please, follow me." She floated backwards, keeping her eyes on the child as he followed her."Are you dead?" Link asked quietly."While I am living nor dead, I am a spirit." The child's eyes widened even more as an excited giggle escaped the hand he had clasped over his mouth. "I inhabit a special sword. Your sword.""I have a sword?!" Fi nodded, turning to the left. "That's so cool! I already have a sword but it's made out of wood and kind of useless." He followed her as she turned again. "Is the sword really mine?""Yes. Only you can wield it." She floated down to the ground, out on the clearing where the fog couldn't touch them. "I will be waiting for you just in there, Master." Fi pointed to a path that seemed to be leading through a hollowed out tree trunk into another forest. She disappeared and Link was left alone again. He followed the path through the hollow tree and into another forest. This one was different than the one he had just been in. Light shone through the leaves of the trees and playful laughter came from every corner. Something in the middle glowed. Link squinted and immediately recognized it as the sword Fi spoke of."Hello there, young one." A loud yet gentle voice boomed out as Link got close enough to the sword. The Hylian child jumped in surprise and looked up to see the Great Deku Tree for the very first time. "I see you have made your way through the forest. Did someone help you?""Yes..." Link pointed at the sword. "She did. She said her name was Fi." The Great Deku Tree chuckled."So she did. I suppose I should tell you my name as well. I am the Great Deku Tree and this is the Korok forest. That sword right there is the Master Sword." Link repeated the name of the sword in awe, placing a small hand on its handle. "Fi said it was mine. Can I take it?" "Yes. In your situation taking it is a must." Link stood closer to the sword and placed both hands on its handle. "Before you pull it, I must warn you. Pulling this sword means your life may change. I cannot say whether it is for the better or for worse, that is up to you." "Great Deku Tree," Little Link looked up at the gigantic tree in front of him with innocent eyes that knew nothing of what would lay ahead of him once he pulled that sword out of its pedestal, "Am I important? The triangle- triforce on my hand is the same as the princess and the spirit lady said that this sword is mine...am I really really important?" "Yes. You are very important. Just like how the heroes before you were important." There was more excitement on his face upon hearing those words. "It is now time for you to claim your weapon, child. I pray to the ancient Goddesses that you receive a fitting reward for what you will do."Link didn't struggle when he pulled out the sword. Sure the sword stood taller than Link himself but it felt like pulling a stick out between two rocks. It weighed nothing and Link could've sworn it was floating out of his hand. "Until we meet again, young hero." Link looked at the Deku Tree as a holy, golden light covered his view. The light began to fade a moment later and Link gripped the Master Sword tightly. He noticed a certain piece of the Triforce on his hand was glowing nearly as brightly as the light surrounding him. Both lights died down and Link was standing in front of the King, his father, the Princess, and practically the whole royal court. The sword glowed a bright blue and Link held it up triumphantly before he collapsed, all the energy in his small body draining at once.-"Welcome back." The Deku Tree smiled warmly. Link looked down to see he was no longer three feet tall. "You were such a unique child, so full of life." The Deku Tree sighed nostalgically. "Often I regret allowing you to pull the sword that day. I could have turned you away and you would be forced to come back another day. Maybe if I had done that you would have lived a pleasant childhood..." "It's fine." Link signed with a smile. "Whether I pulled the sword that day or five years from then, I never would've had a normal childhood. I'm at peace with that.""That truth saddens me." The Koroks began crowding around Link, offering him acorns. He looked pale since he regained his childhood memory. "However, while I do not wish to remember the things you had to endure as a child I am glad it shaped you into the man you are today. You are making a suitable King. I must say I am quite proud of you." Link smiled, taking every single acorn given to him. "I am also glad the Goddesses are giving you an opportunity to remember yourself. And I'm glad you've taken it upon yourself to learn your history as well." "It is getting late, I believe you have somewhere to be. You have yet to learn about the Twilight Realm." Link nodded, unhooking the Sheikah Slate from its spot on his hip. He waved a final goodbye to the Great Deku Tree before he selected the tower that resided in Central Hyrule and was transported away in a lazy blue light. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Dear sister." Sidon sat crossed legged at the area where the bodies of the Champions were buried at the very beginning of Link's journey to be King. "Every day I feel as if I'm forgetting all about you. I hole myself up in my room and work nonstop to finish my very own gift of declaration for Link and I don't stop to think of how you may be faring with this all." He twirled the long grass around his fingers, a soft and sad smile on his face. "I wonder if you've been watching me through Link's eyes, a part of your spirit rests within him so surely you must see me...are you upset? I never meant for these kinds of feelings to surface, you know I am not one to simply fall in love for any Hylian that comes waltzing into the Zora Domain.""I pray to the ancient Goddesses that you haven't grown angry at me..." He sighed again and rolled his eyes. "What am I saying, of course you aren't. You aren't one to be angry because of something I had no control over. What is wrong with me..." He rubbed his eyes, tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. "It's been so long without you, I can't even remember how forgiving you were. Often I wish...I wish I could see you once in my dreams. I wish the great Goddesses that watch over us would bless me with at least one visit from your spirit." A hand rested on Sidon's shoulder causing the Zora to jump. Link walked out from behind Sidon, his arms and pockets overflowing with acorns. The Hylian offered the Prince an acorn, which Sidon happily took. He smiled at Link with tearful eyes and practically broke down when Link dropped the food in his hands to hug him.The hug lasted a while, perhaps longer than any normal person would make it. But Sidon was crying and Link didn't ever want to let go of him. The Zora's gigantic head buried into Link's chest (who knew that Sidon sitting crossed-legged and just a bit hunched over would be the same height as Link standing up) and Link soothingly rubbed along the shark tail on his head. After a while Sidon pulled away, sniffling and rubbing the remaining tears away."I am sorry you had to see me in such a moment of vulnerability." He said, his voice shaking a bit. "It seems after holding in the tears for so long I have finally broken down. I apologize." Link shook his head, telling him not to apologize. "Yes, well," The Zora cleared his throat and stood up, "Shall we return to the castle? We have more to read." Link shook his head again."You go home." Sidon wasn't shocked, he somewhat expected this actually. Link knew when Sidon needed a break and perhaps this was a good time for one. Being home with his father would surely fix him up. He could even spend time looking at old photographs of himself with Mipha. "I'll arrange for someone to escort you while you pack up." Sidon smiled and gently hugged the Hylian King, murmuring a soft thank you. The two of them broke apart and walked to the castle. Sidon didn't even bother to think if Link had heard of his love for him.- The Twilight Realm was something of a mystery, a frightening mystery. While people understood the inhabitants meant no real harm old legends would remind them that the Twilight was only created out of the greed in peoples hearts and their desire to join the Goddesses and use their power. Link was reading to himself since Sidon had left home. It would be hard and he would hate every second of it but if it meant Sidon was home and relaxing then he would endure it. The Hero of the Twilight's story was one considered to be odd. He was a family-less sheep herder in a town just in the outskirts of Hyrule. He lived alone with his horse (surprisingly enough this was the same horse the Hero of Time had) but had a variety of friends; a group of small children that were all constantly in awe of his swordsmanship, the father of one of these children, and a girl around his age. His adventure began when invaders from the Twilight Realm captured the girl and the young boy, and spread Twilight all over Hyrule. The inhabitants of this world immediately turned into spirits, for those of the light cannot live in the corrupted Twilight, except the Hero. The shard of the Triforce he had transformed him into a Divine Beast, a wolf. The transformed Hero was imprisoned but was almost immediately released by the cursed Princess of the Twilight, Midna. She had forcibly given up her throne and was cursed to look like an imp as opposed to her natural beautiful self. With her help the Hero was able to reclaim Hyrule from the corrupted Twilight. Spirits of Light returned the light to Hyrule with the help of the two and places, such as the Zora Domain and Death Mountain, overrun by monsters of Twilight were safe yet again. These same areas also held a dark power that would later be a crucial part of their plot to destroy Ganondorf and the puppet he was controlling, Zant: Twilight Usurper, in order to regain his power. Link remembered the wolf in his dream. He sighed and closed his eyes. He didn't want to read any more, he didn't want to learn of any more ancestors, he didn't want to know how they suffered or how their friends and loved ones suffered. He wanted to put the book away and forget. Instead Link skipped ahead. The Hero of Twilight has claimed he saw the spirit of the late Queen of the Zora, Queen Rutela (who had been executed in front of her own people as a threat to those who considered opposing Zant). It was supposedly she that gave him the Zora armor which her late husband had made for a hero and it was she that also led him to save the young Prince of the Zora, Prince Ralis. Ralis was in a critical condition within the Castle Town's walls and it was Link who escorted his friend, who had no memory of herself or her childhood friend, and a bartender who was a part of an underground Resistance group that worked to make Hyrule a far better place. The Hero of Twilight escorted them all the day to Kakariko village, protecting them from all the evil that stood in there way. Prince Ralis was saved by the Shaman in the village and in return he gifted a coral earring to the hero, a item necessary to continue his quest to find the next missing piece of the mirror of Twilight and save Hyrule. Damn. Link was hoping for a bit of a happier piece. The Hylian King sighed and, with shaky hands, skipped ahead to the end. The end had to be happier. It was the end after all. With Ganondorf defeated the Four Spirits of Light lifted the curse placed on Midna. The three ventured off to Gerudo desert and Midna bade her farewells to the Hero of Twilight and Princess Zelda. The Twilight Princess proceeded to destroy the Mirror of Twilight, the only connection between Hyrule and the Twilight Realm, before disappearing forever. It has been rumored that after that the Hero refused to believe that that was the last connection so he searched the land for another way. He had to be forcibly stopped and returned to his home village by the Princess before he killed himself due to starvation in the desert while looking. He never found another way back and essentially lost a close friend he had made and spent so much time with on his quest. Okay, that was enough. Link shut the book. No more reading about nearly dying and losing friends, that was enough for today. In fact, that was enough of everything for that day.He slowly stood up and placed the book on its proper place on the shelf. As he made his way to the door something glimmered in the corner of his eye. Oh Hylia, he said that was enough for the day... Link sighed and turned around, a candle was lit on a small table and what looked like a picture frame seemed to be catching its light. The Hylian King sighed and walked over, gently getting the frame out from behind a stack of boxes which were filled with more books.The frame was just that but what was behind it was interesting. A small door, half on the wall and half on the floor, with no key hole and instead a handle. Link reached out to open it but something stopped him. It was like Sidon's voice rang out in his head and warned him he wouldn't be able to handle it, not today. Not with everything he's remembered, not with everything he's learned. Link gulped and turned around, walking out the old library. Tomorrow he would explore the new room.-"Your highness, your horse is ready." A Gerudo soldier knelt down as Link stepped out his room, yawning. "I have taken it upon myself to feed it as well as, I hope you do not mind." Link yawned again and shrugged, walking down the hall, his new boots clacking against the floor. "I have also taken it upon myself to assign myself as well as a Goron to accompany you, given where you're heading." What? Link tilted his head in confusion. "Last night before you went to bed you proclaimed you were going to head to Goron City, Gerudo Town, and Rito Village. You said you wanted to personally invite certain people to the castle to explore something." Oh right."Thank you for helping with the preparations, could you have a Rito accompany us as well?" The soldier nodded and she instructed one of the nearby guards to have an available Rito soldier meet them at the entrance of Castle Town. With that all settled, Link made his way through the castle. Of course him being King, it wasn't like he could have a peaceful stroll through the castle. On his way out he was stopped three times regarding the recent Lynel invasion on areas far too close residential land, the sudden increase of Guardians waking up as people walk past them (they were still scared, even if the Guardians had been proven to be "good" again), and how certain villages could not be rebuilt without the proper funds. Link had solutions to this all of course; have only Goron and Gerudo members of the Royal Guard take care of the Lynels and have them equipped with the proper armor needed to protect them from possible lightning attacks, The Guardians were no threat anymore and if they proved themselves to be a threat again then he would have the surrounding areas evacuated while Robbie took care of it, and he would make some sort of deal with Bludo to have some Gorons mine for the Kingdom and help pay for the rebuilding, perhaps free housing in certain rebuilt villages. Those crowding around Link seemed satisfied with these answers and they dispersed, leaving him alone and only a little stressed.His horse was a sight for sore eyes. The pure white coat glimmered in the sun and gave Link a pleasant feeling. His horse neighed as Link patted his neck. It had been so long since he's been out for a ride. The Gerudo solider accompanying him mounted her horse while the Goron handled the carriage that would be used for the three guests. His Rito guard patrolled the skies. With a long, content sigh, Link mounted his faithful steed and off they went.The journey wasn't treacherous but it was long. It took a good several days to even make it to the Gerudo Desert, he couldn't imagine how long it would take it to make two more stops before returning to the castle. Link and his Gerudo Guard, who's name he learned to be Asryn, were the only two to make the journey over to Gerudo town. Link instructed the Rito, who's name was Merth, to fly over to the Rito Village and ask Teba to meet them on their journey to Goron city. The lucky one in this situation was obviously Darm, the Goron, he got to rest at the nearby stable and wait for Link and Asryn to return.The desert night was cold and unforgiving but Link didn't mind it. He may have been freezing just a bit but he enjoyed every second of it. Besides, things warmed up once they reached the entrance of Gerudo Town. Asryn excused herself and walked in to ask for Chief Riju who was already expecting them. In no time Riju walked out alone, a bag slung over her shoulder. Without questioning her Link smiled and knelt down, bowing his head in respect. The Gerudo Chief returned the gesture with a warm hug and a smile.Goron City was their next stop and the journey there would be longer than the one to the Gerudo. Riju was patient and was more than happy to talk about her recent experiences as Chief. Somewhere along the way Teba joined them and the three were exchanging thrilling stories of their every day lives. At one point Link joined Riju and Teba in the carriage, allowing Merth to ride his beloved horse.As expected the journey to Death Mountain was long, it took nearly a week. By the time they arrived they were all too tired to even attempt to make it up the path. Darm offered to go up and retrieve Yunobo while the others slept in the nearby horse stable. When the sun had risen Yunobo was excitedly waiting in the carriage for everyone to wake up.It was an exciting and lovely ride, Link felt somewhat at home. The laughing and chatter felt comfortable and not at all forced. The nearly instant connections with everyone felt like they had all known each other for their whole lives. No title and no lack of title made things weird, in that small carriage they all felt like an odd little family of warriors.Finally, finally, after nearly two and a half weeks they arrived back to Hyrule Castle (Thank Hylia Link was smart enough to assign a group of people Impa trusted to "run the Kingdom" while he was out). Yunobo had never seen the Castle this close and was in awe. Riju squealed in excitement at the thought of being allowed to explore this huge mystery of a building. Teba...Teba kept his somewhat monotone expression but Link knew he was excited to explore Hyrule Castle's hidden secrets as well. The staff had prepared a lavish dinner to welcome the guests and Link back, they even went as far as preparing certain dishes that each one enjoyed. Then, the best part came, a nice long and relaxing night of sleep. Each guest had their own incredibly comfortable room which was arranged to fit their needs. They bade each other a goodnight and went off, the excitement of the day wearing off.-"Wake up! Wake up!""Wake up, goro! It's time to start the day!" Link groaned and pulled the blanket over his head. "Come on brother! It's a brand new day and we're ready to explore!""Link, I will not hesitate to forcibly open this door!" The Hylian King sighed and slowly got out of bed, grabbing a nearby robe to cover his half naked body with before he opened the door. Yunobo and Riju were standing just outside Link's door, excitement in their faces and voices. It was far too early for this. "Come on, hurry up and get dressed so we can eat breakfast and explore!" Riju practically jumped with excitement, Yunobo actually looked like he was jumping. Link nodded and gestured at his clothes before shutting the door. Just outside he heard the two continue the chorus of "wake up!", this time to Teba's door.Breakfast was rather rushed, Riju and Yunobo obviously finished first and kept pestering Link and Teba to eat faster while simultaneously wondering what they would find. Finally, after what felt like forever to the two, Link and Teba finished. Riju practically pulled the chair out from underneath Link as she demanded he take them to the secret room he had mentioned. Link chuckled and happily obliged.Upon arriving to the ancient library the three guests gasped. Of course they were in awe, it's not very day you get to see books upon books of Hyrule's History just laying around in front of you. Like the other night Link bent down and moved the old and dusty frame to reveal the secret door. Riju squeaked in delight and Yunobo was just now realizing that they'd be heading into dark room underneath the castle, the thought making him lose some excitement.Link struggled to open the door but he did, it revealing a ladder that went down. Link was, of course, the first one to go down, Teba, Riju, and Yunobo followed in that order. It was dark (as expected) and no one could see anything. Link unsheathed the Master Sword, its faint blue glow giving just enough light for Link to see a Triforce, similar to the one out on on the Sacred Grounds, had been carved onto the floor. He stepped on it and torches all along the room instantly lit up with blue fire. Yunobo yelped and Riju threw her arms out in front of him, the suddenly lit torches surprised her too but she wasn't going to show it. "It's just fire you two." Teba sighed and began walking down the long hallway-like room. Riju and Yunobo followed closely behind their older Rito friend.The room, as said before, was long. The walls were covered in giant portraits of the Previous Princesses, Kings, and Queens. At the very end was a beautifully done portrait of Zelda in her royal gown. Guilt shot through Link as he quickly looked away from the painting. He hadn't thought of Zelda in forever, he didn't want to. He didn't want to be reminded of how he failed her. "Link." Riju spoke quietly from the other side. He looked back up and saw Riju's hand on a door handle. When he looked at her her eyes were sad but she knew better than to mention the late Princess. The King pushed the next door open and, as this room did, torches lit up with blue flames. This room was different, however, instead of portraits of the royal family there were of Link instead."This is...creepy." Teba rubbed the back of his neck as he looked around the room. Only the left side, it turns out, had portraits of Link and the right seemed to have portraits of different people. "These guys all look like you except...different?" Link nodded, chewing his lower lip as he looked up at the paintings. The first was of the "original Link", the one who had died protecting his home land. It depicted him in his chains, wrists bloody and clothes torn, his expression full of rage. Link looked away and walked down the room."Who are these guys, goro?" Yunobo gawked at the portrait of some ancient Goron. Link waved the question away as he looked at some more portraits, this time of the Hero of the Sky. "There are books under the paintings." Riju selected a book out from under the very first Link and opened it up. She coughed as the dust from the book rose into the air. "It's written in ancient hylian, I can't read it now but with some time I'm sure I can translate it." She tucked the book under her arm and followed the others. Link didn't stop her from taking it, he didn't want to tell them all he "technically never dies", it'd be weird and he would sound crazy. As they continued walking they saw more and more portraits of Link and several others. There were small plaques underneath each one that described who they were and where they were from. At one point Link noticed there were heroes that he hadn't read about. He stopped at the painting of that had what looked like a child Link with an odd bird-looking cap. He flipped through the book, the ancient text not bothering him one bit and realized there were parts of his history he accidentally skipped. He made a mental note to go back and read the sections between The Hero of the Sky and the Hero of time. As they walked even more they saw even more strange things. Teba had to stop and do a double take when he saw a portrait of what looked like a young Rito girl except...she looked more like a Hylian with a beak. Teba read the small plaque underneath her and confirmed she was in fact a Rito and an ancient sage. The thing that caught his eye was the small statement underneath."Why does it say that it...this Rito girl was a part of 'one of the rips in the fabric of time created by the Hero of Time'?" Teba looked over to Link who was thankfully nearby. After making sure Riju and Yunobo were too distracted by a painting of Nabooru Link half-explained what the Hero of Time had done. As expected Teba didn't quite believe him but the way Link seemed uncomfortable and somewhat ashamed he seemed to understand. Link then explained that he didn't want to overwhelm everyone with that kind of knowledge or really any knowledge of this room and why there were so many heroes here that looked exactly like him. Teba nodded and walked along, leaving the subject alone.At the end of the long hallway there was one final portrait of Link. A small memory hit him.It had been a long day and Link's day just got longer. He had to stand in the same position for hours while the appointed artist painted the picture of himself with the master sword. It wasn't just him that was getting his portrait painted however, the Four Champions were all standing just as still as other artists painted their portraits. Revali threw Link a somewhat annoyed look as he spoke. Link heard nothing. Urbosa responded to Revali and the two seemed to be going back and forth, eventually Daruk butted in. He couldn't hear any of their voices. The memory faded away and Link was left staring up at the four champions. Sure this seemed small and insignificant but to Link, this was something new that he would cherish.The others crowded around him and gazed up at the beautifully done paintings of the champions. Daruk mentioned how when Rudania was crawling out of the volcano he had seen Daruk's spirit. Riju had tears in her eyes, as she stepped forward and lightly placed a hand on Urbosa's painting, wishing she had such an opportunity.-"I've noticed something." Riju mumbled as she stared up at the night sky from just outside the Sanctum. Once they all finished up in the new rooms they decided to relax and try to read some of Hyrule's ancient history. Of course with that came the confession that the Goddesses had made Link be reborn to defeat evil time and time again. The reactions were much more casual than what Link expected, which he was grateful for. "While in that room full of paintings of you...I've come to realize you aren't meant for this." She gestured to the crown atop Link's head. "What do you mean?" Riju sighed and turned to Link."I mean you're meant to be a warrior, that's obvious at this point. The Goddesses have made you into a weapon not a leader. I'm not trying to offend you but this isn't who you are, Link. Now I'm not saying you're a bad King, you're great given the fact that you don't have a single clue what a King does or really how to run a country but...this isn't for you." The Hylian King stayed silent, staring down at the waters below. "I understand you had nearly no choice in this and you still feel like you have to be King but Link, you aren't meant to be one. You don't know how to do...any of this! People..." Riju sighed again and tried to pick her words carefully. "People saw me as a the unqualified Gerudo Chief. They saw me as a young girl and not a leader. It wasn't until I went out and helped appease Vah Naboris and got the Thunder Helm returned to me did my people see me as their true leader. Hyrule...Hyrule sees you as the Champion. As the great Hero that defeated the Calamity. They all already trust you given you saved everyone...they're all expecting greatness from you no matter what. This kind of trust can be dangerous because if you happen to slip up just a tiny bit then you will lose your kingdom forever." "What are you trying to say?" "I'm trying to say that being a King isn't as easy as you may or may not believe it to be. Being responsible for an entire country isn't easy. You got lucky these past few months, little has gone on and all you really needed to take care of was repairs and trying to get Hyrule back on track. In the future things will get more difficult and more political and with your lack of experience you will crash and burn. You need to take these simpler times to learn about how to run Hyrule. You need to realize that you cannot please everyone. And I know this may be hard for you because you're so used to being all alone and doing things yourself but...you need to learn that you're going to need groups of people behind you to help you make the important decisions." Riju yawned and patted Link's shoulder, murmuring a sleepy goodnight as she walked back into the Sanctum and left with the others. Link was left alone again. He slid the crown off his head, staring down at it solemnly. Riju was right, he wasn't meant for this life. Even if the Goddesses claimed that he his destiny led up to this, being a King just wasn't in his blood. But he would be damned if he at least didn't try to protect and serve the land he loved. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Ah how I've missed the Domain." Impa breathed in fresh air as Link held onto one of her arms, escorting Impa down the long bridge into Zora's Domain. "It has been quite a long time...over one hundred years since I last visited." She smiled and looked up at the Hylian Champion. "I remember the days the Domain showed off its underwater palace. Ah, such a beauty it was. Not to mention the many handsome Zora folk that would offer to buy me a special Zora helm that would allow me to breath underwater to give me a tour...and flirt with me." The Sheikah elder laughed at the memory of her younger days but left Link in a state of discomfort. After all, Impa was only a few years older than Zelda and he before the Calamity struck and yet she was still picking up Zora suitors left and right. It was just...weird. "I must say I'm still surprised you wanted this. I know you're very stubborn about these kinds of things, especially now after being so used to doing things on your own and winging it.""Revali winged it and he died." Link signed with one hand. "After what Riju told me my eyes have been opened. I don't want Hyrule to die because I turned out to be a horrible King." Impa hummed in agreement and let go of Link's arm once they were just a few feet away from the entrance to the Domain. She took it all in, smiling contently. "You and King Dorephan are the only two that I know that would be willing to give me honest help.""I'm glad you can trust us with these things, Link. It shows you really are maturing. You're already on the correct path to becoming a wonderful king." The Sheikah elder walked slowly into the Zora Domain, smiling at its residents. Link had his eyes focused straight ahead. Sidon hasn't come home- back to the castle yet and he didn't want him to feel like Link's being there was a sign to go back. If Sidon was happy at his home then Link wouldn't ruin that. "Mipha..." Impa sighed, pulling Link out of his thoughts. She paused at the statue of the Zora Princess, placing a hand on it and bowing her head in respect. "Such a brave young woman. So full of optimism and courage." Link shifted uncomfortably, not looking up. He hadn't forgotten about Mipha the way he had Zelda. No, she haunted the corners of his mind every time he looked at Sidon and felt love flood his heart. Impa made it up the many steps to King Dorephan's throne room without Link helping her. She insisted on doing it herself, like old times. The Zora King was more than happy to see the Sheikah elder after so many years, he ordered a Zora guard to bring a few chairs for herself and Link as well as some kind of refreshment. Impa sat down once the chairs were brought in and Link sat down as well. He was obviously a bit nervous for whatever they would discuss within the next few hours."So," The Zora King leaned back in his throne and stared down the King of Hyrule, "you've come for guidance. I must say I am very surprised given your nature. But I am more than happy to help in any way possible. What is it exactly you need help with?" Impa sipped the tea brought to her and looked at Link over the cup, motioning for him to begin. The King stared down at his lap for a minute before he began."I have no clue what I'm doing and I need to know how to be a great King- like you." Dorephan laughed at that."While that is a rather nice compliment I wouldn't say I'm a great King. No one can be a great king, my son. You must learn this. There will always be one person who sees different." Link looked down again, Imp patted his knee. "But do not fret, I will still help you." The Zora King smiled warmly before he continued. "A King listens to his people. He needs to take the needs of the many and figure out a way to please everyone, or at least enough people. Now being a king isn't just about people. It's about your kingdom as well. You must do what's best for the kingdom as a whole.""I believe that won't be the hard part for you, Link." Impa set her up down as she spoke. "Your heart and soul belongs to Hyrule. You quite obviously will do anything for the kingdom. The only problem is your lack of skills to put that love to use. Now while you have gotten much done; improved traveling routes, village restoration, growing army and more solid connections with the other four races, but there is more. There is trade, laws, taxes, appointing people who will be qualified enough to handle things you're too busy to handle. There will be the necessity of having to sit and listen to your subjects and speak with an expert team to fix problems. These kinds of things is what you have lacked to do.""We're not judging you, your highness." King Dorephan butted in once Impa finished. She had left Link feeling just a bit miserable. "We're simply listing the areas you need to improve on. Lucky for you we are gathered here to help you with these things. No matter how long it takes." Link smiled. He was grateful for this opportunity but he dreaded how much time they would spend holed up in there, talking of nothing but Link's bad choices and lack of skills.-Finished. It was finished.Sidon smiled and gazed down at the finished sword and shield. It had taken him a long time but every single minute of he spent hunched over a work table or standing by an expert blacksmith was worth it and only made him more sure of his decision. He would confess his love to Link. He would do it soon. He would follow what was typically a tradition meant for Zora Princesses but he felt like it would still hold its meaning. After all, the tradition began as an act of love, Sidon intended this to be an act of love as well so it wouldn't cause to much of an uproar. Right?The sword was meant to be somewhat similar to the Master Sword in length but to imitate a Zora sword in design. Sidon used his own sword as a sort of guide but in all honesty the one he made was just a bit shorter and less elegant than expected. That was fine, the fact that he tried his best should make up for its lack of style. While the blade itself was built the same way as any other blade it was the handle that held the weapons true beauty. In center, just above the beautiful blue colored grip, there was glimmering red scale cut into the shape of a diamond. There were two scales placed on either side, each one once belonging to Sidon. Taking out scales was no easy task and taking out two for one weapon wasn't fun (or painless) but the Zora Prince endured it to show his love.The shield was created to mimic the look of the Royal Guard's shield. It was rather big but it was light. In the center, much like the sword, was a cluster of beautiful red scales (again it wasn't exactly easy getting that many scales out in one sitting) in the shape of a heart. The heart was in the center space of the Triforce, the triangle piece that symbolized courage was painted in red as opposed to the yellow he had used for the other two pieces.Both items were made to last a long time. Sidon made sure of it. He had to make the journey to visit the Akkala Ancient Tech Lab and strike a bargain with Robbie to somehow infuse some ancient elements into the sword and shield but it was done. Neither the sword nor the shield would break any time soon. And if they did, Sidon prepared for that as well. If, for whatever reason, Link's sword were to shatter or his shield were to break apart into a million pieces, his scales would not break. The scales in the form of a heart would stay in the form of a heart of the shield were to break. Link could easily pick it up and carry it around if he so please. Same thing applied for the scales on the Master Sword. Yes, ancient technology did come in handy for these issues. Now the only problem Sidon had to face was when to give Link these gifts..."Ah, isn't he so dreamy?" A Zora girl sighed out, fairly close to where Sidon was. He was used to this. The female Zora all longed for the Prince. They lusted after him but alas, they would never get a chance with him. "The way he helped the Prince and saved us- how brave! How courageous!""That is exactly what I look for in a man. He has to be courageous. Not to mention he is the King after all! What a nice little edition to an already perfect package!" Wait, what? "And to think, he's here today! Talking to our very own King! How lucky must we be to have this privilege! Oh, if only we took advantage of having him here before he became royalty!" Sidon blinked and whipped around in the chair he had been sitting in. Two Zora women were giggling to one another and looked up the stairs to his fathers throne room. Oh Hylia, Link must've been visiting. How could he not have noticed that? Quickly, Sidon covered the finished shield and sword with a small tarp and hurried on out to the foot of the stairs.He was stopped by the Zora guards, they said his father ordered for no one to enter until they finished discussing some very important matters. This included Sidon. The Prince sighed and apologized for distracting the guard from his duty and walked back to Dento's workshop. He didn't uncover the gifts he made, what was the point after all? He finished and he knew what they looked like. He didn't have a real need for them right now. What he needed to do was figure out when and where to actually...confess.Sidon realized he never really thought about that.An idea struck him. A second later he was walking rapidly throughout the domain looking for Muzu. After questioning a few people Sidon found out that the elder Zora was out on the east reservoir, staring at Vah Ruta as she stood still in the water. He had been doing that more often now that it was safe to approach the Divine Beast. People had claimed to see the elder pray for hours or just sit down and stare at the mechanic wonder. Ever since Mipha's in tact corpse had been...released from Ruta he seemed to be feeling even more like she was gone.Sidon stood at the top of the stairs that led up to the reservoir. Muzu was silent but seemed too lost in thought to notice Sidon approaching him from behind. It wasn't until the Zora Prince was standing beside the elder and cleared his threat did Muzu notice him."Pardon me, my Prince." Muzu sighed and looked at Sidon. "I didn't hear you come. Is there something you needed? Something the King needs?""No, no. My father is busy with Link. I need you actually." Muzu nodded and turned his whole body to face Sidon. "I uh, I have several questions regarding the old Zora Princess traditions of presenting armor for her loved one..." Perhaps this topic wasn't the best to discuss with Muzu, not now or ever. But this old Zora knew everything there was to know about it. He knew more than what was written in their historic books! Sidon just prayed that things wouldn't end in a heated argument between the two of them.As expected Muzu tensed up. His default frown deepened as he nodded for Sidon to continue with his question."I was hoping...you could perhaps tell me more about it. I never had the opportunity to experience such a lovely tradition. Was there a sort of special ceremony? Rules? Was there anything that needed to be done?""Well..." The Elder Zora scratched his chin as he thought for a moment, trying to recollect what exactly happened. "There is a ceremony. All the Domain and invited guests gathered around as the Princess presented her gift to her lover where he then accepts or denies the gift. If he accepts then the celebration becomes a bit more of a party. Those attending spend the rest of the day and night dancing and celebrating the engagement of the two. If the gift is denied, however, then the celebration is cancelled." Sidon nodded. He was already compiling a list of guests he wished to invite. "As for things that were a "necessity" obviously the Zora armor--""Aha! I have a question about that- sorry about the interruption by the way- I was wondering if perhaps...it had to be Zora armor?" Muzu scoffed at the Prince's question."Of course it does. If you remember our history correctly the wife of the Zora King added her own scale into the Zora armor which protected him during battle. That is why it is Zora armor! Have you been lacking in your studies, my prince? Has spending so much time in Hyrule Castle with....King Hyrule distracted you with what's important?""No no, I was just wondering... And you know you can still refer to him as Link. To be quite frank, King Hyrule sounds dumb. It doesn't suit him. King Link is even a bit of a stretch...""He is the King of Hyrule. I will refer to him as that. Besides, Hyrule is his legal last name since he became King so that's even more of a reason to call him King Hyrule." There were slight undertones of anger in Muzu's voice as he said Link's name and title so many time. Sidon could tell he still wasn't over Link's "failure" from a hundred years ago."Right. Well." Sidon cleared his throat and proceeded with his questions. "Has there ever been an instance where no Zora Princesses have been, how do I word it... Has there ever been a point where there were no Zora Princesses? What happens then?""Then there was no ceremony. Simple as that." Muzu grunted."Right right. Has there...has there ever been a ceremony where a Zora Prince offered a gift to his potential suitor?" Muzu was taken aback by this question and Sidon didn't fully understand why. Sure this was something reserved for the Princesses but for to have such a large reaction to a question like Sidon's that Muzu gasped and stepped back? Sidon just didn't get it."No. There never has been and perhaps never will be one. Zora Princes are different in this kind of situation. They simply ask their lover to marry them, the large ceremony is never a part of their asking and neither is creating Zora armor." Sidon nodded and stayed silent, looked down at his feet for a moment. His next question would surely throw him onto thin ice with the Zora elder. He just hoped Muzu was mature enough to not go storming away."Muzu, perhaps this time could be different? Perhaps I, the Zora Prince, could do what a Princess would do? Perhaps I could have the lavish ceremony and present my gifts of love to my significant other?" As expected Muzu reacted largely. He gasped once more and made several strange noises, each one sounding more like a drowning duck than the last. There was a point where the older Zora waved his arms around and tried to talk but it came out sounding much more like gibberish than words. Finally after what felt like ages, Muzu calmed down. He took in a deep breath, closed his eyes and composed himself. He stayed silent, thinking of his response long and hard."If you so...please to do that then I suppose certain arrangements could be made." Sidon smiled brightly and crouched down to hug the elder Zora tightly, the shark tail on his head wagging happily. Muzu grunted and patted the Prince's back. "I apologize for acting the way I did. I was in shock that such an idea would come from you. I suppose I hold too much emotional attachment to such traditions... but I am...attempting to become more open minded now. So I suppose a new tradition could be made for future generations." Sidon nodded and let go of Muzu. He was too excited to speak. "Of course this would need to get the approval of King Dorephan.""Yes! Yes that is perfectly acceptable. I am more than certain that my father will approve of this! Thank you Muzu!" Another grunt from Muzu as he nodded and turned to face Vah Ruta once more."By the way, who is the lovely woman you're planning on engaging?" Uh oh. Sidon laughed awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck, taking a small step backward. This was the part where he prayed to the Goddess Hylia that things would go well."Well, they are a lovely person. They make me very happy. And I do hope you can understand my reasoning for...well my feelings." Muzu gave his prince a questioning look as Sidon continued to sputter out nonsense. "And If they make me happy I don't why I cannot marry them.""My prince, who is it?""It's well, Link." Sidon let out a small breath of relief, he finally managed to fully confess his feelings to Link to someone besides a small Goddess statue. He had to admit it felt refreshing. Muzu, however, did not find it refreshing. To him it seemed that everywhere he turned that...Hylian was there. To Muzu it seemed like every single Zora was falling fin over heels for the new King. No one seemed to get enough of Link and his "unflinching bravery" or what Muzu liked to call, "idiotic recklessness and otherworldly luck."Now Muzu was faced with a rather big problem. Here was Sidon, Zora Prince, heir of King Dorephan's throne, telling Muzu he wished to engage Link. Link. The one Sidon's own sister was in love with as well. Link. The one who brought Mipha's Demise (in Muzu's eyes) one hundred years ago. Link. The overrated hero who didn't deserve Prince Sidon's love or share the title of "Zora King". Muzu was prepared to retract his earlier statement, he was about to say that no. No new tradition would be made. No Sidon couldn't marry Link. No. Sidon couldn't do this. But as he looked up at the young Prince with anger he saw something he thought he'd never see again. As he looked at Sidon's eyes and face, he saw the absolute excitement at the idea of wedding the one he loved. Muzu recalled sitting with Mipha as she made her Zora armor. She refused to let the name of her potential husband slip, she wanted to surprise everyone. Even as Mipha excitedly explained every single detail of what she wanted he wedding day to be like, even as Mipha would describe her love interest in great detail yet still keep his image vague, she never let the name slip. It wasn't until recently that Muzu discovered the name of her potential husband.Here was Sidon. Here was the same love and life and happiness in his eyes as he looked at Muzu hopefully. Here was Sidon, brave enough to admit that he was in love with Link even though he knew what Muzu thought of him. Here was Sidon, Prince of the Zora, asking for the chance to be with the one he loved. Muzu wanted to yell and argue and convince his prince that he deserved better. He wanted to say that Link wasn't worthy of him. He couldn't marry Link. He just couldn't. He wanted to demand why Sidon loved the Hylian that failed his sister, the domain, the Kingdom. Why Sidon would even love the same man his sister loved. But Muzu didn't. This wasn't his love, it wasn't his life. He didn't have the same feelings as Sidon. He didn't see Link in the same light Sidon did.Muzu watched as Vah Ruta lifted her gigantic trunk to leg out a loud trumpet. A small spurt of water escaping but nothing to cause any worry or rain. The Divine Beast sunk back down into the water without another sound. Oh Mipha. How lovely she would've looked on her wedding day, how happy she would've been. Muzu smiled slightly at the thought. The elder looked back at Sidon, the excitement in his face fell just a bit. Perhaps...this was Muzu's second chance. He never had the opportunity to see Mipha happily present her gift, he never had a chance to properly apologize to Link (he had done it after he appeased Vah Ruta but in all honesty, that apology wasn't too meaningful). This could be his chance to see Sidon, who he loved as much as he loved Mipha mind you, be as happy as Mipha would've been. This could be his chance to properly apologize."I hope you have a proper gift in mind, Link already has Zora armor and it would be ill-advised to gift him another." Sidon had tears in is eyes. He crouched down again and hugged the Zora elder once more. This time, Muzu hugged him back.-"Well, this has been a rather long and exhausting day." Link sighed as he stood from his chair. The meeting with Impa and King Dorephan had finally ended and Link now understand the basics of what he had to do. Yes, he had a long way to go but now he had a much clearer understanding of what it meant to be king."Indeed it has." The Zora King yawned. Hylia he was tired, but he had one more meeting after this. Link had arranged for Lady Riju of the Gerudo to meet with Dorephan. Link knew the King wanted his Domain's reach to expand a bit so he had Riju come by so the two races could figure out something that would allow the Zora women to travel to Gerudo Town without dying. "Come back anytime you wish, Your Majesty! My doors are always open for you!" Link smiled and nodded as he helped Impa down the many steps. They passed Riju on the way up, in their small conversation she mentioned she was excited to finally be able to properly speak with Sidon and King Dorephan. Link snapped his fingers, remembering something, and excused himself before he ran back up the steps. "Link! What has brought you back here? Did you forget something?" The King smiled warmly down at the Hylian. Link shook his head."I nearly forgot to mention that I plan on courting Sidon. Through days of prayer and hours of having inner arguments with myself I've come to the conclusion that he's the one the Goddesses meant for me and honestly I couldn't be happier about that." Link smiled and waved goodbye once more. He quickly jogged back down the steps, leaving King Dorephan in utter shock and confusion. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Everything was happening so fast and King Dorephan didn't know what to do. Link had run in at the last moment to proclaim he was going to begin courting Sidon and then left so abruptly that Dorephan couldn't call him back to explain himself. What made it was worse was that the Gerudo Chief walked in as Link left so poor King Dorephan had to compose himself quickly. Now that Lady Riju was gone Sidon came bursting in with Muzu behind him yelling out that he'd like to create a new Zora tradition similar to that of a Zora Princess's but instead with the Prince's as well. He then yelled out that he wanted to marry Link. This was, without a doubt, the most confusing day for the Zora King.Sidon stood tall and proud in front of his father, waiting for a response. Every second he didn't get one his confidence depleted slightly. The King only stared at his son with wide eyes."Father, I do not mean to disgrace our people in any way. I do not want to ruin old traditions or muddy up Mipha's good name with this. I cannot control where my love lies and I never meant it to fall on Link. Although looking back my feelings began to stir when he and I defeated Vah Ruta... In any case I never meant for this to happen. I'm not trying to upset Mipha's resting spirit with this and in all honesty I do not believe she would be upset. As for the traditions I just believe Zora Prince's should be allowed to express their love the same way! Muzu agrees with me!" King Dorephan looked over at Muzu questioningly who nodded slightly."Sidon..." King Dorephan sighed, "I do not know what you and Link are planning to do. I mean, I understand if the two you have feelings for one another but both of you proclaiming that in one day! And confessing separately to give me more surprise than if you were to do it together... At least yours was more formal than his...he just ran in here and announced that he would begin courting you!"Sidon felt like someone just greeted him warmly only to punch him in the gut and have all the wind knocked out of him. His eyes were wide and his pupils turned into thinner slits than usual. His mouth was agape as he stared up at his father silently. He had no idea how to respond to what he just heard."Son? What's the matter. It almost seems as if you didn't know Link felt that way for you!" King Dorephan laughed but stopped once he noticed Sidon had the exact same expression on his face. "Wait a minute, you didn't know?""I was under the impression you knew as well." Muzu spoke up, looking at Sidon. "Well, I guess I sort of assumed since you asked to create an entirely new tradition to engage the King. I suppose I figured you would ask if you two were already in some sort of romantic relationship but this? No offense, my prince, but planning to wed someone without knowing if they share those same feelings...well it's just plain stupid." Sidon still said nothing.The shock was still trying to settle in. "Sir, I think something is wrong with your son." Muzu waved his hand in front of Sidon's face, tilting his head. "He doesn't seem to be responding to anything.""I'm sure he's fine...he's just in a bit of shock is all. Could someone please escort Sidon to his room? I'm afraid he needs to rest up. And I suppose we have some things to discuss regarding...whatever new thing he wants to try." A couple of nearby guards answered their King's call and gently led the Zora Prince to his room in the Zora's underwater palace. It wasn't until Sidon was left alone in his room did he finally come to.Tears brimmed his eyes but since he was underwater they simple intermingled with the water around him. He was blushing like mad and laughing like crazy. It felt like an immense weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Things would get better and easier for Sidon from then on, he felt it.But oh, how wrong he was.The Zora Prince returned to Hyrule Castle the very next day. He was excited to finally be reunited with Link after so long. There was a certain air of anxiousness though, throughout his entire trip Sidon continued to come up with preposterous scenarios where Link didn't mean courting as in he was confessing his feelings but courting as some other arbitrary thing. It was silly to think that way but Sidon couldn't help it. He just couldn't believe that this was finally happening! "Welcome back, my Prince." A new Zora soldier knelt down in front of Sidon as he stepped out his carriage. "I trust your trip from Zora's Domain went well?" Sidon nodded, waiting for another couple of soldiers to unpack his belongings. "Excellent.""Yes, yes. I assume someone received my message? I wish to see the King immediately." The Zora Prince began walking rather fast through the gate that led to Castle Town. The poor Zora guard had to jog to catch up to him."My apologies my Prince! He is unavailable until further notice!" Sidon stopped and looked back at the guard. "We're sorry for the inconvenience...by the time we received the message he had already made plans... Again, we're terribly sorry." Sidon shook his head and continued walking up to the Castle."No need to apologize. It isn't your fault. What is he doing if I may ask?" "I'm not too sure to be honest. Sign Language isn't something that I really understand...from what I did understand he is making plans to provide funds for the Ancient Tech labs in Akkala and Hateno as well as meeting with Goron representatives about mining for the Kingdom and...I'm not sure if he said he was going to test those who wanted to join the Royal Guard by fighting monsters or by fighting him...either way the new members of the Royal Guard will be tested with some sort of combat trial." The second one sounded more probable. Sidon thanked the Zora soldier and entered the Castle. His nerves were still jumbling around and he was pretty sure the two guards leading him to his room noticed this. Sidon practically ran into his room once the door was opened for him. Goddess he was happy to be back. He really did miss the Castle. He missed hearing Link scuttle around at night in his room and try his best to be as silent as possible as he practiced his sword fighting. He missed taking nice strolls through Castle town and seeing the kids gaze in amazement at how tall he was (he didn't think he was that tall but the kids believed he was as tall as a Hinox). He just missed life at the Castle.Everything in his room was just as he left it. The blue nightshade given to him by Link was still alive and as beautiful as the day he got it. The several monster parts he had also received still seemed...well. The glass box they were put in seemed to intact so that lifted Sidon's worry that somehow the monster parts would try to escape (silly but Lynels are terrifying creatures that are capable of anything!). Sidon thanked the guards when they brought him his luggage and thanked them again once they promised to let the Zora Prince know when Link was finished. Finally, Sidon was left alone. He sighed as he settled into his bed, letting out a nice relaxed sigh. He seemed calm on the outside but on the inside he was as nervous as ever! He hoped it fade away once he and Link had a chance to talk.It didn't.Sidon was a nervous wreck when he asked Link to meet him in the secret library that held the secrets to Link's extensive past. The two of them spent a lot of time together in that room, Sidon thought it appropriate to have a conversation as important as that in there. Plus there was the knowledge that no one would accidentally walk in and interrupt. When Link walked in wearing his royal outfit and tired eyes with a big grin, Sidon nearly threw up. Normally the Zora Prince was a composed fellow, always confident in what he had to say or do. Hardly showed any signs of fear or nervousness. Not today. Before Link could even sign a simple hello Sidon blurted out that his father told him what Link said about courting and he was planning on presenting Link certain gifts as a sign of his love. Neither one said- or signed- anything for a bit. Link was caught off guard and confused for a moment but he smiled, took a giant hand in his own smaller one, and gave him reassuring pat. The small gesture wasn't really much but for Sidon it was the tip of the iceberg. Tears welled up in his eyes and this time they streamed down his cheeks. A happy smiled spread across both their faces as they embraced (Sidon had to crouch down so Link could hug him properly). Both of them stayed like that for a while, enjoying one another's presence. Link was the first to let go but he still held onto Sidon's hand tightly. "Sorry for not telling you this sooner, my love. I'm not the best with any sort of romantic problems, especially not my own." Link scoffed."I hate to be the bearer of bad news Sidon, but I have to admit you made your feelings a bit obvious. Not that I'm complaining, I enjoyed it." Link winked and Sidon rolled his eyes a bit, blushing lightly. He supposed he did make it a little obvious, at one point he practically confessed his love to Link. Ah well. In the end it only helped Sidon gain the love of the one he loved most. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Sidon supposed that now that Link and he were officially aware of their love for one another things would be easier. It wasn't for either of them. Link was still Link and the constant worry that he was worthless and a horrible leader and hero was as present as before. His nightmares would still show the same heroes of his past always telling him the exact same thing. However he did the healthy thing this time around and tried to explain his feelings to Sidon instead of bottling them up and trying to forget them like before. A nice long talk with Sidon always had Link feeling a bit better than ever and made him more confident. Sidon was always good at making Link feel like a million rupees.Sidon was beginning to doubt himself, however. Every time Link woke up in the middle of the night frantically looking out the window to stare up at the sky, every time Link would space out as Sidon read about a different Hero, every time Link would sit in his throne and look absolutely miserable or every time Link stare at the Master Sword with tears brimming his eyes, Sidon would be there. He would always help Link regain his confidence in himself as he'd offer up every single compliment he had. Sidon would always, without fail, lift Link's spirits. This is what scared the Zora Prince. Before they had officially begun planning the new ceremony of a Zora Prince offering gifts to his loved one, Sidon had confidence in himself that he could always make Link confident in himself. Now he began doubting that. What if one day when Link is feeling miserable he just can't lift the Hylian's Spirits? What if the compliments that leave his lips turn stale and Link is forever stuck in that pit of despair?No. No that wouldn't happen. Sidon was sure of it. He had brought his problems to Link and Link immediately shot that down. No way Sidon would ever fail to make Link happy. The Hylian King made it very clear that Sidon was perhaps the one person that managed to keep him happy after so many discouraging events. But Sidon couldn't help but believe that maybe he was wrong. Maybe he would eventually lose his magic touch. When those thoughts began filling his head others joined in as well. What if Sidon wasn't the one meant for Link? What if it was perhaps Zelda? Hyrule's History has made it very clear that the Princess and the Knight are meant to be. Maybe Link is just too lonely to admit he doesn't love Sidon in that way. Maybe he doesn't want to lose a friend like that. Maybe Sidon doesn't deserve Link.Those thoughts were disgusting and Sidon was disgusted with himself for thinking such horrible things but he couldn't help it. As he and Link would sit on the floor in the secret library, compiling a list of guests for the ceremony he couldn't help but think that Link didn't want this. After months of planning and preparation for the ceremony it was rapidly approaching and Sidon's doubt only grew. Just a week before the event he had enough."Excuse me," Sidon stopped a soldier strolling through the castle hallway, "I would like five- no, six. I would like six available members of the Royal Guard ready to escort me to the Faron Region. Make sure none of them are Zora and make sure all of them are very well prepared for possible lightning. Most importantly, if the King asks what it is that's going on simply tell him I'm leaving on business. No need to cause needless worry." The solider nodded and hurried off to find the needed Royal Guardsman that Sidon needed.The Zora Prince admitted to himself that this was a bit reckless and dangerous but he needed answers and some kind of comfort. The Spring of Courage, where the Goddess of Courage stayed, was where he was heading. Why this specific spring to pray in? It was obvious, he had questions about Link and himself. Who better to ask than the Goddess responsible for Link's divine courage? Hopefully he would actually get some sort of answer as opposed to the silence he always received from the Goddess statue in the Zora's Domain.He snuck into Link's room and quickly opened up his closet. Goddess, Link had so many outfits and accessories. Climbing outfit, fireproof outfit, his Vai outfit, Zora armor, some sort of dark outfit that had a mask of his face and so much more. Sidon didn't know anyone else that had as many clothes as Link. Finally after opening some small drawers Sidon found the topaz earrings he was looking for. It wouldn't protect him too much but it'd be good enough. He clipped the earrings to his neck jewelry (the closer to his head the better) and walked out. He was ready.-Sidon had left Link a note saying he was leaving out on business and he would return as soon as possible. He fully intended on returning before the ceremony and had his escorts run the horses at top speed. Sidon felt bad but he was going to make it up to the poor animals once they returned to Hyrule Castle. A nice long break and a barrel full of apples is what Sidon learned Link felt to be an appropriate reward for the horse's hard work. Perhaps a nice basket of carrots as well.They arrived at the spring two days after leaving. Sidon was surprised at how fast they got there but when you travel nonstop it was possible. The Royal Guard had managed to take down every enemy in their path and were currently scouting the area just in case. Sidon stepped out of his carriage and looked to the ancient spring. Light shined on the old Goddess statue, giving it a rather holy look. He gulped and walked down the stone path into the water and to the statue. The Zora Prince knelt down in front of the statue and shut his eyes tightly. This was it."O great Goddess Farore, Goddess of Courage, I come before you as a lost soul. My mind has been corrupted and I need your great guidance to show me the light once more." Silence. Sidon gulped and continued. "Link, the hero chosen by the Goddess Hylia, is the one I have been longing to...marry. However is it fate? Do you and the other Goddesses give your blessing to this marriage? Does..." Sidon stared down at his reflection in the crystal clear water and sighed. "Does my dear sister give her blessing? Is she up there with you all in the Sacred Realm? Is she happy, I wonder. Is she upset? Does she loathe me for what I am doing? Am I even the one for Link? Perhaps you have different plans for the Hero of Hyrule...""Prince of the Zora People..." an angelic voice rang out. Sidon jumped and looked around. The voice seemed to be coming from no where yet everywhere all at once. "Your prayers have been heard. Answers shall be given. I, Farore, will give you what you seek." The ground rumbled and the wind picks up a great deal. Something nearby roared loudly and before Sidon knew it he saw the great dragon Farosh flying out of the sky. He had only seen Farosh once before, when Link was carried to Zora's Domain by the dragon itself, and he was as terrified this time as he was the last. "No real harm shall be done to you, Zora Prince." What? Sidon was about to question what that meant but a lightning ball struck him, throwing him into unconsciousness.-"The Hero of the Wild has gone through many hardships." A loud distorted voice rang out. Sidon couldn't see anything other than himself. Everything around him was pitch black. "However, a hero cannot be a hero without enduring pain and proving he is worthy of the courage we granted him." Sidon blinked and upon opening his eyes the darkness changed to something a bit scarier. He was at Fort Hateno on that fateful night over a hundred years ago. Fire, guardians, weapons, bodies all around him. Sidon couldn't look anywhere without being horrified. Then he saw him: Link. He was quite obviously already ready to collapse and die but he fought bravely, defending the still living Princess Zelda. Sidon couldn't move or speak but, oh, how he wanted to run over and throw himself in between that guardian and his Hylian love."Your doubts are justified and we will offer you a choice, Zora Prince." The scene changed at Sidon was back in the dark nothingness. "Given how different the circumstances are with this hero's life and how much more involved we have become in his life we are allowing you to choose your fate with him as opposed to the one we had already planned. You believe you are not worthy of this hero's affection, you believe this hero would be better off without you. We will show you how this hero has been handling and coping with the life we have given him then you can decide for yourself whether or not this hero needs you in his life." Sidon gulped but nodded. He supposed the Goddesses were answering his prayers but they didn't have to be so...creepy and mysterious about it. Sidon would've been fine with with a simple answer...The darkness changed and Sidon was standing besides Link. He tore his eyes away from the Hylian only to see a sight much more painful. Mipha's spirit stood in front of Link, floating just above the water gracefully. Oh, they were in Vah Ruta. Link looked he was about to cry and Sidon couldn't tell if it was from the many open wounds he had or from seeing Mipha. The late Zora Princess took a few steps forward and blessed Link with her healing power, within a second he was healed but the tears were still there. Link took a few small steps forward and reached out to her hesitantly but light enveloped him and before he knew it he was being removed from the Divine Beast. As Sidon watched himself take Link's hands in his own and thank him in front of the many other Zora he noticed the smallest hint of guilt in the Hylian's eyes. Sidon didn't know how he missed it before. The scene changed and now it was dark. Sidon and Link were standing in front of Mipha's statue and Link was hesitantly signing out what he saw in Vah Ruta to Sidon. Sidon saw his own features change as Link explained to him what he saw, but then the other Sidon waved the worry and guilt away and reassured Link that nothing that had happened to Mipha was his fault. Mipha held no ill will and neither would Sidon and his father. Link smiled.The scene changed and Sidon saw several things seemingly at once. Link was fighting, fighting for his life and the lives of the dead Champions. In one second Sidon saw Link deliver the final blow to the terrible monster that haunted Vah Medoh. In another second Sidon saw Link being cornered to the very edge of the Divine Beast Vah Rudania, one single push and he'd be ashes. In another second Sidon saw Link sprinting as fast as he could to avoid lightning strikes. He wasn't fast enough and he was hit. The scene changed again and Sidon was seeing many things at once yet again. Link fighting (and losing) a fight against a Lynel, which Sidon recognized as the one on Ploymous Mountain. Then he was being chased by two Guardians, both shooting lasers that just barely missed him. Next was Link collapsing in the snow, Sidon couldn't tell if it was from exhaustion or from starvation. Sidon was shown more scenes where Link was attacking or being attacked, shown points in Link's life where he was on the brink of death but he continued to fight. Sidon understood that the Hylian Champion had a tough journey but oh my goddess, this was horrible. He stared in horror at everything thing he was shown, he couldn't close his eyes or run away. All he could do was watch."The Hero of the Wild has faced many challenging tasks as he worked to free the spirits of those piloting the Divine Beasts as well as protecting those living in Hyrule and regaining his own memories." In the darkness an ear piercing roar echoed. The darkness rippled and suddenly a giant and horribly grotesque beast was in front of him. Link was jumping around and avoiding all kinds of attacks, his eyes were fierce and the grip on his sword could break a bone with how tight it was. "This time around, the evil that haunts your world was stronger and more unstable than before. However the hero handled him well." The scene changed again and Sidon was right in the middle of Hyrule field where another giant monster was running wild. "It wasn't until the one with the Goddess blood sealed the evil away did his true challenges start." Link seemed to be flying in the air as he shot one brilliantly golden arrow to the horrible beast. Zelda appeared and sealed the Calamity that tortured Hyrule for a century away. It was done. "Certain risks were taken with how Ganon would be dealt with this time around and sadly, more lives were lost than necessary." Link was holding onto Zelda as she spoke and tried to climb onto his horse. He was crying and shaking his head, denying what he knew would happen. "We are not cruel Goddesses, we never intended for things to unfold the way they did, however certain things were inevitable. However we do try to fix the problems we have caused. This is why you are a part of this hero's life.""So...you're saying I was only put here on this earth for him?" Sidon whispered as he saw Link break down after learning of Zelda's passing. "While we have placed the chosen hero on this earth for a reason along with the Princess, that is not the case for you. We have all made it so your fates are intertwined but your true goal in life isn't simply being there for the hero. As said, we are not cruel. We would not force such a thing on anyone who didn't want this." The scene changed and Sidon saw himself with Link in Hyrule Castle's secret library. "Our intention for you was to be there as a friend for Link, the feelings you have developed for him are entirely your own the way the feelings of the others we have assigned to the hero was their own.""You've done this before then? Had people be there for Link?" More people appeared, Sidon recognized them as the previous heroes of Hyrule. One of the heroes had a fairy with him, another had a girl who looked vaguely like Princess Zelda, another had two people; a girl with short hair but most definitely wasn't a princess and a...weird goblin looking woman with orange hair and strange, luminescent green markings all over her body. Heroes who Sidon had never seen before appeared next. A young boy with a conductor's baton in hand stood next to what looked like his younger sister and a pirate girl, now a group of boys (three of them to be precise) with multicolored hair stood arm in arm, next to that group of boys was another group (of four this time) locked arm in arm as well, finally a boy sitting in an orchard of apple trees with the princess at his side."We've made mistakes in the past regarding the hero, for a long time we saw him as a weapon and only a weapon for our own." The heroes and their loved ones vanished and were replaced by a small boy on a horse in the woods. staring up at something in the sky. Sidon took a moment to to recognize the thing was, in fact, the evil mask that tried to kill everyone with the moon. "We never knew that us not stepping in would...cause disaster for the one we needed the most." The boy was replaced with a gruesome looking zombie wearing destroyed armor and covered in vines. "The Hero of Time. He was forgotten by Hyrule and all those he loved. He was a young boy when he set out to defeat Ganondorf, when he warmed the Princess of Ganon's plans he set out to find the fairy he had become close with. However all those who knew him and of his victory had erased him from their minds. He was alone and when he died he stayed on this earth as a spirit to train the next hero, The Hero of Twilight, to become unforgettable so he would not have to live a life as lonely as the one of his ancestor." "Long ago when the Goddess Hylia fought alongside the Chosen Hero she made a silent promise to make sure no one would forget of his heroism. We three have tried our hardest to keep that promise as he is reborn time and time again but even Goddesses are not perfect." Sidon looked down at his feet, unsure of what to say. "Dear child, although we will not try to force you to stay in the fate we hoped you'd follow, we will say one thing: the Hero of the Wild is not as fortunate as the ones before him. He has no family, his closest friends have perished, and he knows nothing of himself. However through the many hardships he has faced, the courage he has has kept him going and the love he shares for this land its people have made him strong. However these things have taken him only so far. Zora Prince, had it not been for your never ending support in his battles and your unconditional love for this hero he would have never had the true strength to finish off the Calamity. Had it not been for the Hero of the Wind's friendship with the legendary pirate and secret Princess then Ganondort would have of plunged his home into despair. Had it not been for the Hero of Twilight's friendship with the Princess of the Twili and his love for a childhood friend then Hyrule would've been corrupted by the shadows. Had it not been for The Chosen Hero's love of his land and Hylia's love of him then none of this- of any of you- would be here. Do you understand, Zora Prince?"Sidon let out a deep sigh. At the moment he was more confused than when he first arrived at the Spring of Courage. When he asked the Goddess for advice on whether or not he was the one for Link. Now the Goddess (Goddesses?) were telling him he had a choice in whether or not he'd stay with Link as fate had intended. Yeah, Sidon was as confused ever. There was silence as Sidon tried to figure out the things the Goddesses had presented him with. They showed him how Link had fought bravely and how he had been thrown into his life as a King. They showed him a select few times where the two of them were together. They explained how every hero has the same doubts and issues and every time there is someone there to care for him. In this case Sidon was that person but his feelings were his own and not artificial ones placed in him by the Goddesses (this was where most of his confusion came from). He didn't understand whether the Goddesses were implying if his friendship was real or his love for Link was real...Oh, it seemed they had answered his prayers. Sidon asked for clarification on whether or not he was right for Link, whether or not the Goddesses had different plans for him. Through some rather complicated visuals and explanations they showed Sidon what he wanted. They showed him an answer that Sidon already knew was the right one but he just needed some sort of confirmation. The Zora Prince smiled slightly and looked up, although there was nothing and no one around, he still smiled."I thank you all for helping me. Had it not been for your clarification I...I would have made a very bad decision. Thanks to you all I can live the life I was obviously meant for.""Our job is not finished. We intend on answering all of your prayers." Sidon tilted his head in confusion and then remembered. Mipha. He was standing on Divine Beast Vah Ruta's trunk, looking over to Zora's Domain. Sidon didn't know what he was doing there. "Hello Sidon." It was like a spear had pierced his heart. The soft and gentle voice came from behind him and tears instantly blurred his vision. Sidon turned around slowly to see his sister standing there. She was just as he remembered her. She smiled as Sidon began sobbing like a small child. When he hugged her she giggled and told him it was alright, no need for tears. She soothed him, humming an old lullaby Sidon hadn't heard in a hundred years. The Zora Prince was crouched over and sobbing into his sister's chest, blubbering out incoherent words but he didn't care. All he cared about was seeing her again."It's been quite some time, I know. My, how big you've gotten. You must tower over nearly every Zora." Mipha spoke softly when Sidon finally began to calm down, he was kneeling and hunched over so he could properly hug her. "I'm glad the Goddesses have granted us this time together. I've missed you and father since the day I died." Sidon whimpered and tried to respond but couldn't form the words. "I'm quite proud of you, you know. You helped appease Ruta! You were unstoppable in the water!" Sidon smiled and let go of her slightly to look up at her face. "You're going to make an excellent King one day." "Th-Thank you...Mipha." Sidon's voice was shaky and was threatened to be cut off by another round of sobbing. He stood slowly, no longer hugging her but he held onto her hands tightly. "I've missed you too. Everyone has...Muzu still isn't over it in fact." Mipha nodded grimly. "But he is learning...to be less spiteful towards Link...he's not blaming him for your death at least." "That's good, I'm glad things are working out." Mipha smiled warmly and Sidon felt like crying again. "Speaking of Link, I believe your proposal in a week or so, correct?" Sidon looked away in shame and nodded. "How exciting! I'm actually surprised Muzu allowed you to create a new tradition, he's always too attached to the old Zora way but to be quite honest I didn't like the fact that they excluded the princes. It didn't seem fair at all." Sidon nodded, staying silent. Mipha frowned and took a step into his line of vision. "I understand that you may feel like I'm upset at you for this but believe me when I say I'm not.""I know...but dear sister he is the one your heart belonged to...he is your childhood friend. He was supposed to be the one you married once the Calamity was defeated and here I am planning on marrying him and disgracing you.""The only one disgracing me right now is that mindset you have. Sidon while I am upset that I will never live the life I wanted I am glad Link has found someone who he trusts enough to open up to in such ways he wouldn't with me. I'm glad you found someone who will always be by your side and protect you from anything, even if that anything is your own thoughts."They spent the rest of their time together talking, reminiscing. Sidon cried a total of twenty times throughout his time with Mipha and Mipha would comfort him every time. Mipha talked about her time in the afterlife, how much time she's spent with the other champions. Sidon talked about his adventures with Link. When Sidon's time was done he gave Mipha one tight hug and whispered how much he loved her. When he opened his eyes Sidon was lying on the ground and staring up at the sky. All he heard was ringing but he saw the Royal Guards from earlier screaming at one another and trying to get him to stand up. He turned his head to the side to look at the smiling Goddess statue and whispered out a quiet thank you.- "Where did you go?" Link was signing frantically as Sidon slowly walked through the Castle Town. He knew the Goddess said he would be in no real pain or harm or whatever from the electricity but falling onto the stone ground did hurt. "I've been worried sick and now I'm hearing that you got hurt. What happened?" Sidon tried to wave Link's worry aside but Link persisted. "What happened? I deserve to know.""Oh nothing much. I just made a small trip to Lurelin Village in preparation for the ceremony. Nothing too extreme." He wasn't lying. After his...conversation at the Spring of Courage Sidon went to the village nearby. He had invited a local that Link seemed fond of, it turns out he tried to run away from his village to escape the fishing fate in store for him. Link said he would always save the poor guy from a silver bokoblin but he always kept his spirits up and Link liked that. "All I did was fall by the way, not like I went out to defeat an Octorok like before." Link hesitantly accepted this answer and took the Zora's hand to led him into the castle. The ceremony was approximately two days away. Tomorrow Sidon would go back to his home and prepare himself, then on the day of the actual event Link would go. He was going to leave both Robbie and Purah in charge of the castle and basically the Kingdom, both the scientists insisted that they didn't mind and that they'd much rather celebrate the wedding instead. Link wasn't going to argue with them. When Sidon was sitting on his bed, relaxing after his very emotionally exhausting, Link plopped down besides him and hugged him tightly. He's been doing this a lot lately. Sidon didn't mind. Link just needed to feel for himself to make sure Sidon was real and this wasn't part of some hyper-realistic dream. The Zora Prince wrapped one arm around his Hylian love and looked down at him with a smile on his face. They would be engaged soon and now he knew that there was nothing to be worried about. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Hold still!" Impa had infinite patience but for some reason all that ran out when she tried to comb Link's hair. Goddess, that boy never did comb his hair. She found twigs in there! He hasn't been out in the forests for ages!"It hurts. You're hurting your king and for that I will probably do something about it." Impa hummed and rolled her eyes as she continued running the brush through his mass of tangled hair."Go on, your highness. Throw this frail old woman in jail for a hundred years or so." Link snorted. He didn't know what it was about the Sheikah Elder that made him feel like a young child. Maybe it was the fact that she treated him like her own, maybe it was the fact that he knew he could be more relaxed around her. Whatever it was he was grateful he has those small moments where he could sit and pretend that he was a little boy and Impa was his mother or grandmother trying to comb his too messy hair."You really should cut your hair soon. It's about half way down your back and is full tangles." Link nodded but both of them knew he wouldn't cut his hair anytime soon. Impa finished up and tied his hair back into his usual ponytail. She walked slowly around him and admired her work. "I remember when I used to comb Paya's hair. She'd squirm nearly as much as you do." The elder chuckled and slowly walked to the pillow Link placed his crown on. When she placed it in his head, Impa made sure the crown didn't ruin her expertly made ponytail.This day was the day he was to be engaged. Nearly the entire kingdom was invited to the Zora's Domain just to see the King of Hyrule and Prince of the Zora get engaged. So many people, so much food. So many people. Link didn't even want to think of how many there would be at his wedding. No, no. This wasn't the time to think of that. Right now Link had bigger fish to fry- er, engage."Are you going to finish getting dressed or will you just stand there looking confused until it is time to leave?" Link blinked and nodded. Impa was already sitting in her usual spot and staring at Link who was staring off into space. "I have personally chosen what you will wear from what you brought. Thank Hylia you brought a variety. That green tunic, little shorts, and pointy hat may have been appropriate attire for defeating the Calamity, and perhaps was considered to be something fancy back in the era of the Hero of Time, but not for an engagement." Link grinned and shrugged before he jogged up the stairs to Impa and Paya's shared room. Of course Paya chose the most...royal looking clothes. A long, deep blue coat (robe? It certainly looked like one to Link) with golden-yellow shoulders that protruded out. The little buttons were gold as well and each one had the Triforce engraved on it. All around the end yellow threads created a pattern of swirls that vaguely reminded Link of the patterns on the ancient shrines, his cuffs held the same pattern and color. The shirt he wore underneath that coat was white though its ruffled design didn't make it as blinding as it should have been (but it at least made Link feel a bit like a pirate). His shirt buttons were, as expected, little triangles. He was starting to get tired of the Triforce but he had to deal with it again, his belt had a gigantic Triforce on the center of it. Thankfully his pants were just off-white and his boots were simply boots. Though the heels on them were just a half inch higher than normal.After getting dressed Link trudged down the stairs, he felt overdressed but what could he do? This was normal King attire, if anything he was always severely under-dressed. Impa smiled once she saw him and waved him over. She had a wooden box in her lap which she opened when Link was close enough. She pulled out a variety of rings (most of them having the Triforce but some had small gems with the symbols of the Goddesses on them) and gave most of them to Link. He asked if maybe this was a bit too much. Impa scoffed and proclaimed that this was a very special event, he might as well be as fancy as ever!Finally, finally, after nearly an entire morning of primping and preparing, Link piled into his royal carriage with Paya and Impa. The two Sheikah had on lovely blue robes that was supposedly only worn for special occasions. Impa took the time to paint on the Sheikah symbol on her left eye, something she constantly had when she was younger. Throughout the trip to the Zora's Domain the three talked. Impa eased Link's nerves and Paya eased Impa's nerves (Impa was slightly worried that Link would accidentally do something to ruin the day due to his nerves like run off and accidentally anger the nearby Lynel. Much to Impa's pleasure Link would do no such thing that day). As they talked Link clutched a small package, Paya questioned him what it was at one point what it was but Link refused to answer.They arrived just a few hours after midday. The path up to the Zora's Domain was crowded with many different people from around the kingdom. While the path was long no one complained, the scenery was amazing and everyone enjoyed it. The three hopped out the carriage and began walking with everyone else. Link's arms were locked with both Paya's and Impa's. As they walked he nearly yanked both women around as he excitedly pointed at the different areas where he defeated some sort of enemy.Meanwhile, Sidon was pacing back and forth in front of his father. He had spent a better part of the day under the water in his room, preparing for the day. It took three Zoras to help him out on the many pieces of jewelry that the Zora royals wore for special occasions. Sidon's head was covered in silver and diamond jewelry. A very beautiful headdress rested on his head and wrapped around the his shark tail, the Zora crest hung off a chain that was wrapped around the base of that tail. He had on his crown, something he wore only twice before. When Mipha was announced to be a champion and when Mipha was announced dead, at least now he could use it for a happy occasion. His everyday neck jewelry was replaced with something more royal. While this one looked the same it adorned several pieces of luminous stone that would gave a beautiful glow at night. His bracelets were changed for ones that matched his neck jewelry. The mini-scarf he wore was changed for a light blue one that had the Zora crest embedded on it. On top of that he had a necklace resting, the necklace had the Triforce on it as a nod to the Hylians and who he was engaging.All of this jewelry was heavy and Sidon thought he would drown with it all on. He was almost scared to go up the waterfall that led to his father's throne room. But he made it and now he was pacing back and forth. He was nervous and prayed to the Goddess statue that everything would go as planned. As more guests began filing into the Domain it became more crowded and Sidon got more nervous. People brought food (thank Hylia, with this many people here Sidon was starting to get worried there wouldn't be enough to go around) and some brought gifts. As the guests mingled and talked among themselves Sidon tried his best to calm down."My son, do not worry." Dorephan leaned over and patted Sidon's back with one gigantic finger. "All will go well, I promise you." Sidon smiled at his fathers kind words and and hugged his hand. "You should be enjoying yourself, not worrying. It is a grand day, one to go into Zora history for ages! The beginning of a brand new tradition. The beginning of a new era for Hyrule! The beginning of a new era for the Zora!" Sidon smiled again and took a deep breath. His father was right, Sidon couldn't worry. Everything would be fine. He had his gifts, he had his speech, everything would go as planned."My, things have gone quiet haven't they?" Dorephan muttered. The Zora Prince's eyes widened. The chatter of the guests had gone silent and that could only mean one thing."My Prince!" Muzu called out as he emerged from the crowd. Sidon was ready to pass out. "The Hylian King has arrived. Come, let us take you to your position." Sidon nodded and waved to his father before he followed Muzu into the crowd. The crowd parted for him and in another area it parted for Link. While Sidon couldn't see the Hylian King (he kept his gaze down) he was certain Link had seen him. Sidon was placed at the very entrance of the Zora's Domain. From there he could see everyone. Since there were so many guests some were up on the stairs, in the shops, by the throne room, anywhere there was space. Link was standing in front of Mipha's statue, ready to begin the ceremony. He looked uncomfortable in his own Royal attire but he had on the biggest Sidon had ever seen."Mhmm." Muzu hummed, Sidon looked down at him. "You have your gift, yes? Good. Now I do hope you don't forget anything you need to say." Sidon nodded. "May the Goddess bless you, Sidon." Muzu smiled and patted the Prince's arm before he turned around and walked to Link. Oh Hylia. The ceremony was starting.Music played from somewhere. Sidon didn't take the time to look. He kept his eyes locked on the statue of his sister as he walked up to his Hylian lover. The music stopped when he stood directly in front of Link, both of them were on both sides of Muzu. The bowed to one another in respect then stood still and waited for Muzu to begin."Ladies and gentleman. Zora and visiting guests, it is my pleasure to announce that we are here to witness the beginning of a brand new tradition for the Zora Princes." The elder's voice boomed out which surprised Sidon. Muzu was usually rather quiet and his voice was almost always hoarse. "Sidon, Prince of the Zora, son of King Dorephan. The Domain has admired him for his brave acts in protecting us and those outside the Kingdom. He has defeated great Octoroks terrorizing villages and helped appease the Divine Beast which held the spirit of our dear Princess Mipha captive. We all admire him and his excellence, we all know you will be a wonderful king." Everyone clapped, the Zora's clapping a bit louder than others."Link, King of Hyrule, Hylian Champion, Hero chosen by the Goddesses. The entire kingdom has witnessed your courageous acts in protecting this land. You have gone through many hardships; losing your memory, losing your friends and family, losing the princess. You were thrown into royalty unfairly and without a clue and yet you have been a wonderful King to this slowly re growing kingdom. You have reclaimed all Divine Beasts and freed the spirits of the champions, you have protected the people of this land without a care of your own safety, you have freed us all from the Calamity. We all admire your divine courage and we pray that the Goddesses reward you appropriately." Everyone clapped once more, the Zora's clapping a bit louder once again."These two souls," Muzu continued once the clapping died down, "have found one another somehow. They have grown closer with each day they spend together. We will never truly know when the two clicked. Perhaps it was when they calmed Vah Ruta, perhaps it was when they traveled all of Hyrule together, perhaps it was in their time in the castle. Whatever the case may be their spirits have intertwined and the two have fallen for one another. It is clear to any that sees the two together that they care deeply for one another. And while people may argue and deny this love all they want," at this Muzu looked up at Sidon with a small smile, "they cannot ignore that these two are obviously fated for one another." Sidon smiled at the Zora elder with teary eyes. That was, probably, the sweetest thing Muzu has said."We will now begin with the giving of the gifts. Sidon, the Zora Prince, shall now give Link his gifts." Muzu stepped back and suddenly all eyes were on Sidon. He felt like he was going to throw up. Sidon fumbled with the two large boxes he had set down besides him. He held one beautifully decorated box up in each hand and knelt down, bowing his head. He cleared his throat and spoke in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear."Link, Hylian King. For you I have made these gifts as a symbol of the love I feel for you. I pray you accept them as well as I pray you allow me to take your hand in marriage." Link took both boxes and gently set them down, opened them up and took the sword and shield out. His eyes widened as he stared at the beautifully crafted weapons in his hands. "Following the old Zora Princess tradition I have made something that can protect you in battle. While I pray to the Goddess Hylia that you don't ever need to be in battle again, I know that is impossible. With these gifts I pray that the scales I have embedded in them will be able to protect you." Sidon looked up at the Hylian King who was still holding the sword and shield. Link had tears in his eyes and a wide smile plastered on his face. As Sidon stood up Link signed out the words he wanted to hear."I accept these gifts." Sidon's breath got caught in his throat, his own tears threatening to stream onto his cheeks. Before Sidon could speak again, Link began signing once more. This time, however, Paya translated what Link was signing."Before anything else happens, I have a gift of my own." Paya said. She had volunteered to translate for Link, much to Link and Impa's surprise. Yes, she was usually a very shy girl and would much rather keep to herself but there were times where she felt a surge of bravery course through her veins and she was able to do things like this. She was a Sheikah after all, and much like her grandmother. "I know it isn't something really relevant to the old or new Zora tradition but I felt like it was appropriate." Link took a poorly wrapped gift from Impa and knelt down, holding it up to Sidon who immediately took it. "Your happiness is my happiness. I know things haven't been so great since Mipha died in battle, I know you think you don't deserve me or whatever you feel is wrong because of what Mipha felt. I know you miss your sister every day and would like some physical reminder of her and how much you loved her. And maybe this will also be a reminder for you of how much I love you, even if it isn't something I made with my own two hands." Sidon blinked in confusion and opened the gift with shaky hands. Sidon gasped when he saw what was inside, this time the tears did fall. "It isn't the exact one Mipha wore when she went into combat but I know she did wear this proudly at one point. I hope you can accept my gift and I hope you know that she is proud of you for everything you've done. Not just for me, but for the Kingdom." Sidon stared down at the light blue sash Mipha had worn at one point in her life. He didn't know how Link had found this sash (it was probably hidden deep in the castle) but he was just glad he did.The Hylian King stood up to his the Zora Prince crying with the sash in his hands. Sidon whispered out "I accept your gift as well". Muzu cleared his threat and Sidon nodded. He calmed himself and took Link's hand in his own. He took a deep breath in and began speaking once more."Link. King of Hyrule. Hylian Champion and Hero of Hyrule." The Zora Prince took Link's hands in his own. "I have known you for as long as I can remember. When you awoke from your century long slumber your helped me save my home and my people. When we ventured out into Hyrule to explore you opened your heart to me, you helped me see a part of you no one else has. When you began your life as King you went through many different things, there were points where you would give up. You would believe you hadn't fulfilled your duty as protector of this kingdom. You believed you were a horrible ruler. There were points where you had nightmares of previous heroes visit you and tell you you were a failure. You have gone through so much anguish in your life and yet your dedication to better others and keep everyone safe is a never ending ray of light that Hyrule needs. Link, many people will ask me why you're the one I have fallen for. What is so special about the Hylian that has been seen running around in outlandish costumes picking fights with monsters? Well I'm here to say why I have fallen for you.""People see you as the hero, the king, the champion, the hylian, a traveler. They see you as the one with the sword that always happens to be at the right place at the right time. I see you as something more. You're kind hearted soul and you care deeply for Hyrule and all it's people. You love animals and will do anything in your power to keep one from getting hurt. You're stubborn and believe you can do almost anything on your own even when you know you can't. You were thrown into a life of responsibility too soon and yet you still try to hold your head up high. I see these things everyday. I see your courage, your courage, and not the one placed in you to complete the task of defeating the darkness. I see you go through so many different things each day and you never give up. I suppose over time after I have gotten to know you for long these feelings were bound to develop. I even began questioning my own love for you. Was I in love with you or the thought of you? The answer is both. I love the thought of you living the happy life you deserve. I love the thought of you not having to live your life as if it were a constant war zone. I love the thought of you being the knight in shining armor to not just me, but everyone. And I love you because you're a strong person. You never give up even when your chances seem slim. You are a dedicated friend and leader. You are loyal and will be there for me whenever I need you. For me, you have done much more than needed. For me you try to give me the moon and the stars in the sky. For me you have allowed yourself to become vulnerable and allowed me to help heal you. I love you not because you're the Hero of Hyrule but because you're so much more than that. You're the Hylian who is dedicated to himself and others, you pour your heart and soul into everything you do, you understand thoughts and emotions that most people cannot comprehend because of your own experiences. You are someone so unique and so full of life and so special. You have captured my heart and for those very reasons I love you. And for those very reasons I ask you, will you marry me?"Sidon couldn't pause to take a proper breath before Link rapidly signed out his answer. This time it didn't matter if Paya didn't translate in her rather loud voice, everyone could see Link nodding his head as his hands furiously signed the short word before he threw himself onto his Zora fiancé. The entire domain cheered and clapped as Sidon bent down to lift Link up. From that moment forward everything would be a blur. The celebration quickly followed the engagement ceremony and pretty soon everyone was either gathering around both Sidon and Link and congratulating them or they were dancing along to the music playing with a Noble Pursuit in their hand (or some other, calmer drink if that was more their taste). For hours and hours the guests all partied to their hearts desire. More than a few times did their celebrating get a bit too out of hand but the few sober guests and the many guards managed to reel in the guests. However they did have a hard time trying to get the drunken Hylian King down from the very top of the giant fish that decorated the domain. Sidon (who thankfully hadn't touched a Noble Pursuit and wasn't planning on touching one) simply laughed as Link tried to show off to those down below how high up he was. After a bit, Teba grumbled something about Link accidentally falling before he flew up and got the King down. The party went on for quite some time. Most guests left by the time the sun was rising the next morning. The rest went back home around noon. The Zora Domain wasn't as trashed as most would expect it to be. Surprisingly enough a vast majority of the guests were very good on actually tossing their garbage. The few Zora people who still had the energy to be awake were cleaning up what was left of the mess, making sure not to step on the Hylian King (who was laying on the ground and staring up at the sky, the inch and a half of water that constantly covered the floor relaxed him after such a eventful night). After a bit, Sidon joined him.As the two tiredly stared up at the morning sky Link slowly inched his hand closer to Sidon's. His hand brushed against his Zora fiance's and within a moment their hands were loosely holding onto each other. Link smiled sighed contently. He couldn't wait to marry the Zora Prince. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Goodbyes are, perhaps, the hardest thing Link has endured. He has had to say goodbye to any normal life he had lived before the Calamity. He has had to say goodbye to his friends, the Champions. He has had to say goodbye to his memories. He has had to say goodbye to Princess Zelda as she died in his arms. Now, he had to say goodbye to his fiancé so he could make the trip back to Hyrule Castle and return to his royal duties. Sidon was to stay at the Zora's Domain and spend some much needed time with his people. Of course, the two would be planning their wedding (with help of course!) while they stayed in their respective Kingdoms. It'd be difficult but they couldn't spend every waking second together to plan their wedding. They needed to also pay attention to their responsibilities and blah blah blah. So technically speaking the two wouldn't see each other until the day of their actual wedding. Which was complete agony for Link.Don't get Sidon wrong- he was going to be miserable as well!- but he thought it to be a sort of romantic thing. They wouldn't see each other until their wedding day and that would make that day so much more special. Link didn't exactly think that way and was already scheming up a plan to finish a months worth of work in less than a week. Sidon had to force Link to promise he wouldn't do that and to just go along with their plan. Link begrudgingly agreed.So they did as planned. Link returned to the castle and Sidon stayed home. Over the course of two and a half months Link and Sidon prepared for their wedding. They had several willing helpers (which was consisted of Bolson, Rhondson, and Paya as well as a few others) who would help the two communicate their plans and ideas via letters as well as actually getting the decorations, food, and just about everything else ready. Link promised everyone who was helping a hearty reward but they all turned it down and insisted they were more than happy to help for free.The help was greatly appreciated by both Sidon and Link. Link was overwhelmed by the many new issues that suddenly surged in the Kingdom. Few funds to support the rebuilding of a certain village, sudden surge of monster attacks in more remote areas where travelers often explored, questions on how Hyrule would defend itself against Ganon's attack (Better to start preparing too early rather than too late), questions on how the Princess with Goddess blood would be born into the royal family and how the next hero of legend would be born if Link was going to marry a Zora. Offspring between a Hylian and Zora has never happened before, mostly because hardly any Hylians marry Zoras, so how would the hero and princess be born? These questions, as well as others, were always thrown at Link the moment he woke up. It was stressing and he was tired of them but he tried his best not to let that get to him.Some of the problems were obviously easier to handle. The funds? Link would create a team of miners and have them mine for rare and precious gems. He had discovered that the last king had hidden away chests filled with rupees just in case Hyrule was in trouble financially. Link would be up to the task but he knew he couldn't be the one exploring Hyrule for hidden chests so he would create another team to track down the hidden rupees. Monster attacks? He hired Kilton to teach a group of elite soldiers on the specific monster they were going to face. If the soldiers couldn't peacefully move the monsters than they'd had to resort to a more violent option. Protection against Ganon? Link consulted Impa, Purah, and Robbie. The four of them discussed possible ideas and plans for defeating Ganon and protecting the civilians as well as new technology. The Divine Beasts were going to be put away, placed below the Kingdom's ground and saved. They couldn't be used again, not after last time. The birth of the new hero and goddess blooded princess? This was more difficult. Since the blood of the Goddess Hylia ran through the bloodlines of the ancient Hyrulean family, Link didn't have that. So if there was any sort of possibility that by some miracle Link and Sidon somehow managed to have children, their child wouldn't have the Goddess's blood. But Link recalled the Goddess mentioning that he had his share of the Triforce returned to him, as well as received Zelda's piece. Perhaps maybe the shard of wisdom was the only thing he needed in order to carry the blood of the Goddess? He didn't know. But even if that was the case, how would he have a child? Aside from the fact that Sidon was a male, a Hylian and Zora have never had a child before. This was a dilemma and Link nearly had a panic attack before he reminded himself that the Goddesses had planned for all this. He was sure they knew something would happen and the next Goddess-blooded princess would get there one way or another. As for the next legendary hero...well Link already knew the answer to that. He would die at one point and return to the world in a new life. No need to worry over bearing children there. The next hero was already there! This, however, wasn't something he could explain to anyone who asked. The answer was too complicated and probably something completely insane. So, when asked, Link simply shrugged and answered that the Goddess had a plan. With prayer the true answer would come to him. Everyone accepted this answer.Link would spent late nights, hunched over in the hidden study that belonged to the Last King of Hyrule. He would be reading some proposed laws, trying to figure out solutions to problems that happened across the Kingdom, and helping plan the wedding (the wedding stuff he always saved for last so he could fall asleep with a smile on his face). He was running on approximately two hours of sleep, sometimes less, a night. Not that he really cared. While saving Hyrule he hardly ever slept. But the lack of sleep was adding to his already growing stress.Link, thankfully, had a solution to this."Thank you for coming on such short notice." Link signed with a smile as Paya helped her grandmother out of the Royal Carriage. "I hope I didn't pull you out of anything important.""Important? Nothing is more important than helping you run a kingdom, my dear." Impa hugged Link warmly and they all walked up the path into the castle. "Besides, Paya had a letter to deliver you from the Zora Prince.""Ah, y-yes." Paya dug through a bag she had slung over her shoulder and pulled out an envelope with Link's name on it. "Prince Sidon would also like for me to remind you to not stress yourself out in this time where nearly everyone requires your attention." Impa chuckled."He knows you all too well your highness." As they walked in Link explained just exactly what he needed Impa to help him with. With everything explained Impa shooed Link away and demanded he take advantage of his "day off". She wouldn't do this too often. Link smiled and thanked her once more, hugged both Impa and Paya, before he jogged off to his room.Link had to admit, he was excited. For the first time in two and half months he had the freedom to do whatever he pleased! He quickly changed out of the itchy royal attire and into his more comfortable Champion's Tunic. He gathered his materials (really just his sword and shield AND the sword and shield Sidon had given to him) before he ran out the room. He had left the crown placed on his bed and most definitely didn't toss it on there when he was halfway down the hallway.Where to go? Where to go? Link didn't know. He ran through the long castle hallways, dodging whoever came across his path. He was racking his brain trying to think of the perfect place to go when something caught his attention. Link stopped and stood still. He heard the faint sound of bells? No. It was something else, something different but it sounded so similar. What could it be? He stayed silent and took a step closer to where he believed the sound was coming from. Yes. It was definitely something else. He knew what it was yet he couldn't place a finger on it.A fairy flew up to him from around the corner. A dim golden light, different than a fairy's normal pink glow, was shining off of its round little body glowed directly in his face as it flew in little circles in front of him. Link was...confused to say in the least. Most of the time fairies would fly away if anyone go too close. Now this one was right in front of him. What could this mean?The fairy flew forward and paused, going around in small circles again. Link hesitated before he took a step towards the creature once more. In response, the fairy flew forward again and waited. Oh. Now Link knew what this meant. He began walking towards the fairy and didn't stop. It seemed to be leading him somewhere, but where exactly? The creature flew into the deeper areas of the castle, confusing Link with every foot it flew. Eventually it paused at a door, flying in a lazy circle until Link caught up. He reached a hand out, the fairy reacted and flew straight through the door.Link sighed and pushed the hair out of his face. He already had a feeling something...divine was afoot. He wondered what it could be. Maybe another one of his childhood memories? Maybe a Goddess statue was in there? Only one way to find out...The door opened with a loud creak that echoed off the walls of the hallway. The golden fairy from before had vanished and no other golden light was seen. Link walked in slowly, keeping his eyes peeled for any sort glowing circle. He saw nothing as he walked deeper into the dark room. He frowned a bit and stood there, silently wondering why he was even led there if there was going to be nothing?The Hylian King sighed again, more annoyed this time, and looked around. It looked like sort of storage room. Everything in there was dusty and looked old. Probably the things Bolson or the new Castle servants had found when the Castle was remodeled. From the looks of it, it all just looked like broken junk that no one had the heart to dump out. But there had to be something in there that was important.Link began yanking tarps off of boxes, dust flying up in the air and causing Link to sneeze. He wouldn't get anything done if he was trapped in a room full of dust. Thankfully there was a boarded up window. Normally Link would jump at the chance to set something on fire- this was a perfect opportunity to do so!- but he controlled himself and instead decided to pry the boards off. They were flimsy so it didn't take much energy to do so. Light poured into the room, causing something off to the side to glimmer. Link raised a hand to block the light from his eyes and walked to the source.A beautiful and perfectly reserved tiara rested on top of a pillow placed on top of a box. The tiara seemed to have been untouched from the dust and seemed to be one worn for more...special occasions. In any case it seemed flashier than the one Zelda often wore. The Hylian King picked up the diadem and thought for a moment, Zelda's face popped into his mind. A pang of guilt shot through him at the thought of her, she hadn't crossed his mind in such a long time... He supposed he should...fully pay his respects to her. After such a long time and after everything that had happened it was the very least Link could do.With the tiara in hand, Link went back up to the main parts of the castle. He stopped to inform Impa where he was planning on going before returning to his room to change into the proper clothing. Once he was fully prepared, Link unclipped his Sheikah Slate and selected a shrine on the map that appeared. Within seconds he was standing behind the Goddess Statue at the Spring of Wisdom.The cold stung his cheeks and the water didn't help him. It soaked through his pants as he waded over to the front of the statue. He could barely feel the cold metal of the tiara with his freezing fingers. Damn his fingerless gloves, the Rito just didn't understand how crucial that part of his body was.Link knelt down in the water and bowed his head. He closed his eyes for a moment before he placed the tiara that once belonged to Princess Zelda on the little mound that was meant for offerings. When it was set down a brilliant golden light shot up and Link seemed to have sunk a bit lower into the water. He was struggling now, something felt like it was dragging him down as the light drew closer and closer to him. He was pulled down to where only his head was above the water. If he didn't die drowning then hypothermia would be a close second. He took in a deep breath before he was yanked roughly underwater. All he could see was the golden light above.-Link opened his eyes, he doesn't remember ever closing them, only to be blinded by the sun. He groaned and put a hand up to shade his eyes. He squinted while he adjusted to the light. When he was ready, he jumped out of the bed but nearly jumped in surprise when he noticed he was no longer in his Rito made clothing but back in his Champion's Tunic. That was...certainly odd, but whatever. In the distance he heard a cow moo and a cucco cluck in distress. When the light no longer bothered him he looked around. It looked like...he was in a house. A house in Hateno, however it wasn't his house.Link was standing on the second floor besides a bed. There was another, larger bed a few feet away from the one he was next to. It looked like this house belonged to a family. Well, Link wasn't going to invade their privacy much longer. It'd be weird if they saw their King in their house snooping around. He hurried down the stairs and walked out the house only to be greeted by a cow in his face. It mooed loudly and Link held his hands up defensively. The animal did nothing as Link slowly walked to the side.He was on a farm. He recognized this one to be the farm that resided at the foot of the hill that led up to the Hateno Ancient Tech Lab. Except...the farm seemed different somehow. It all looked different...A pony caught his attention. It neighed and trotted up to him happily, as if Link was an old friend. The Hylian King smiled and proceeded to pat the pony's side, looking around and spotting an apple tree nearby. He plucked a fruit off the tree and fed it to the pony. It neighed once more before it happily ate the apple out of Link's hand."You always told me your favorite memories were on your family's farm. Back when you lived here at least." Link jumped up in surprise. He swirled around and stood protectively in front of the small animal only for his defensive frame to shrivel up. "To be quite honest I was afraid you'd react negatively to this seeing as the Shrine of Resurrection wiped your memories clean. But I see your love of animals has saved the day." Zelda smiled warmly as Link stood there, mouth open and eyes wide. "My favorite memory was the day we went out and I found that frog." The area around them melted away and in came a new landscape. They were sitting on the hill that looked over at Hyrule Castle. The pony had apparently stayed with the two of them as the scenery changed. It neighed and happily began trotting around the new field, the new hill. This was the same exact hill from Link's memory of the day Zelda tried to make him taste a frog."Shall we sit?" The Princess sat down in the grass and patted the ground besides her. Link lowered himself onto the ground, his shaky legs almost causing him to collapse. "This is quite nice isn't it? The day is just as I remember it, only I wasn't wearing this silly old dress." Zelda sighed contently and looked over at the castle. "I get the felling you believe this to be some kind of dream, which is understandable, but believe me when I say this isn't.""You're really here?" Link finally signed out. Zelda smiled and nodded."Yes, Link. I'm really here. I have begged for the Goddesses to give me a few spare moments with you. I'm glad I finally got the opportunity to do so. Although I was expecting something more...subtle. Like maybe allowing me to visit you in your dreams. But I suppose drowning you and dragging your spirit to the Sacred Realm works as well."They sat there silently. Neither knew exactly what to say. It was tense, awkward, between them. But neither really cares. Although they were a tad uncomfortable they were glad to be in one another's presence again."Link, I'm sorry." Zelda finally spoke up. She was ripping grass blades out the ground and tearing them up. "I...I shouldn't of forced such responsibility onto you as I died. But I was panicking and it felt like the right decision at the moment and I didn't want Hyrule- or what was left of it- to suffer any more. I...I know how stressful it is to be a leader when you have no clue what to do. I hope I haven't caused you too much anguish since then..." Link smiled a bit and shook his head."Don't worry. It isn't that bad after a while. King Dorephan and Impa have helped me a lot too. I believe that I can handle this." Zelda smiled and sniffled. There were tears welling up in her eyes. "You were always so positive. It surprised me to be honest. Even when you knew your destiny and how...horrible your life would be, you were very optimistic. Even now. I admire that about you." Silence again. Zelda continued messing with the grass and Link looked down at Hyrule Field. He frowned and cleared his throat before speaking."I'm...sorry." His voice is low and hoarse from the lack of use. He cleared his throat it again. "I didn't...protect you." Zelda blinked. She had listened to him talk very few times in the past. She had forgotten what his voice sounded like so it was a bit of shock to hear him actually talk."It's fine, really. I had...I already had my suspicions that all of that would happen. Especially after a hundred years. I mean, Hylians can live longer than that but I was exhausting an awful lot of ancient power. It was bound to...to..." Zelda chewed her bottom lip and looked down at Castle Town. From there they could see small figures moving around, living their lives. "I suppose I should've warned you before you began battling the dark beast that that would've happened. So you wouldn't of been as scared or shocked. I guess I didn't because...I was hoping I would survive." She sighed and wiped a tear away."Let's talk about something else." Link signed. Zelda nodded."I suppose this is a good time to actually get to the thing I wanted to talk to you about. I just hope I don't get too embarrassed to actually say it." Zelda smoothed out her dress once she repositioned herself and spoke quietly. "You were...my best friend. You were there for me in times of great need. You protected me at all costs even when I treated you poorly. Yes, I know you were my appointed knight. I know it was your duty to protect me with all your life but...I felt like I didn't deserve that protection. I felt like...because of my inability to access that sealing power and my constant belittling of your position and you in general I didn't deserve to be protected. That day when the Yiga Clan had me surrounded you could've left me to perish but you didn't...that day when all went wrong and the Guardians were hunting us down you could've left me to die and saved yourself but you didn't. And all those days where I was a mess of emotions, where I wanted nothing to do with you or anyone, you were there by my side. You helped me cope with my feelings and tried to help me through them. You even opened up to me and made me feel like I was special. Like I wasn't a complete failure. You...you always will be my best friend, Link." Zelda and slowly took Link's hand in her own. She gave it a tight squeeze, smiling through the tears reforming in her eyes."You're my best friend too." Link whispered out in his raspy voice. "I understood what you were going through and you understood what I was going through. We might've had our ups and downs but I'm glad we were able to be as close as we were. Even if it was for a short while." The Princess smiled and began sobbing happy tears as she threw herself onto Link. It was funny, Link thought to himself, here he was hugging a crying Zelda on the ground. Only this time there was no rain and the tears weren't one of stress and heart-wrenching pain.The two spent their remaining time simply strolling through the fields and small patches of trees, hand in hand. Zelda explained that in the Sacred Realm her ancestors lived in their own kingdoms. She often visited them and would go exploring Hyrule's old form. It was always exciting to go see the hidden secrets of Hyrule in the Era of the Hero of Twilight or the Hero of the Sky (that one was her personal favorite, Skyloft intrigued her and she just loved the Surface before it became Hyrule) or any other form of Hyrule where any other legendary hero lived. To her delight she got along quite pleasantly with the other Goddess-blooded princesses although it was a bit confusing whenever someone wanted to talk to a specific Zelda.The topic came up of Link's status as King. The Hylian Knight, at first, shrugged and simply responded with an "it's fine, could be worse." Zelda urged him to talk and he did. He was hesitant at first, he didn't want to make the Princess feel as if she had shoved too much onto Link's plate when he had just finished fulfilling his duty, but after a bit of her pushing him to talk he did. He sheepishly mentioned the point in time where he went out exploring Hyrule and procrastinating his own coronation. He left out the parts that included Sidon, he was too embarrassed to mention him at first, until Zelda asked if he did this all alone. Surely Impa wouldn't of allowed that! Link then awkwardly explained how Mipha's younger brother had accompanied him in his journey around the kingdom. Then Link had explain how Sidon also spent a majority of his time in Hyrule Castle with Link instead of in the Zora Domain, helping him discover more on previous heroes and help him cope with all he had been through. Zelda smiled and patted Link's shoulder, informing him that he didn't have to dance around that subject. That was a breath of fresh air. Link laughed nervously and, in his gross raspy voice, told her that he was getting married soon. Zelda responded with another tight hug.The time came where the two had to depart. Zelda didn't want to say goodbye but she knew that a goodbye was inevitable. She led them to the Sacred Grounds, thinking it would be rather...fitting. As they approached, the Princess sighed and gave Link's hand a gentle squeeze."Before you go...I have to pass a message on to you..." Link raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly. "The Goddesses have...informed me that it is time for you to return the Master Sword to its resting place. Since your duty has been fulfilled you no longer need its strength." Link nodded again. "But...with the sword of legend returned to its place...you will no longer be able to...how do I put this? You will no longer be able to...see me. Your connection with me- with this ancient power really- will be sealed away. Of course the shards of courage and wisdom will still live on within you but you will never be able to...see me again. Or the Sacred Realm. But the remaining pieces of the spirits of the Champions will be freed and they will be able to fully cross over to the Sacred Realm..."Link was staring down at the ground as they slowly walked up the show to the old grounds where Link was fully recognized as a Hylian Champion. He didn't know what to think. He didn't want to return the Master Sword, that sword was practically a part of him! He went through shrine after shrine to prove to that sword that he was worthy. He used that legendary blade to protect him from the worst of enemies, from puny ChuChus to the big bad Calamity. And now he was being told he could never revisit Zelda once he returned it to its place? No way did he want to return it now. He was connected to this blade...he couldn't just let it go. Could he? Link looked at his hip. At the time it was bare, no Sheikah Slate clipped onto his belt and the sword Sidon made for him wasn't there either. He supposed it wouldn't be so bad. In fact, he didn't need the sword that sealed the darkness if there was no darkness to seal. All he really needed was the sword given to him by the lovely Zora Prince. Besides, Link would come back eventually. He would be reunited with the sword then."I'll miss you." Link signed when Zelda let his hand go. "I'll always miss you. And I won't forget about you." Zelda hugged him, crying again. Link hugged back tightly, burying his face in her shoulder. He tries to squeeze his eyes shut to stop the tears from flowing but alas, they streamed down his cheeks anyway. When the hug broke apart she smiled widely at her friend and laughed, wiping Link's tears away and saying he'd miss him as well."Goodbye, Link." Zelda whispered as Link knelt down in front of her."See you later, Zelda." The Hylian Knight said in his raspy voice. Zelda held her arm out and within a second the Triforce appeared on her hand. A second later the golden light coming from the magical triangle moved from the princess's hand to the the knight. When the light died down, Link was gone and Zelda was alone.-"Congratulations, your highness." Paya whispered, poking her head into Link's study. Link jumped up in surprise. He was taking a little nap on his desk. The Sheikah girl smiled and stepped into the room with a stack of letters in her arms. "As of today, your wedding is done being planned. All the preparations are ready. All that needs to happen is the actual wedding." She grabbed an envelope from the top of the stack she held and handed it to Link. The Hylian King already had a gigantic smile on his face but upon seeing that the letter was actually an invitation to his very own wedding. "Since neither you nor Prince Sidon could decide on an actual date for the wedding my grandmother took care of it. I hope it isn't too much of...I hope it isn't too soon." Link raised an eyebrow and looked back down at the invitation and nearly had a stroke. The wedding was planned for two weeks from that day."I-I tried to tell my grandma that that would be too soon but she insisted that it be that date and-" Link raised a hand and Paya stopped."It's fine," He sighed once he set the invitation down, "I just thought I had more time...I have one final task to do. It's important and I wanted to do it before the wedding...""Well...if it isn't too intrusive may I ask what it is?" Paya set the stack of envelopes down on the free area of Link's desk. "It was just something...the Goddess tasked me to do. That day I went to the Spring of Wisdom..." "But Master Link...that was over a month ago. I find it kind of hard to believe you haven't done it since then..." Link shrugged and glanced over at the Master Sword. It was leaning up against the wall besides the old Hylian Shield Link always had equipped. Paya followed Link's gaze and put two and two together. She touched his shoulder gently before speaking once more. "If you'd like, and if you allow me to, I could...act in your place for a short while today. While you go out and...do whatever it is you have to do." Link's ears twitched upward as he looked up at Paya in disbelief. "I'm...sure I will be able to handle everything for a little while. Grandmother has begun preparing me for the day I become the next leader of the Sheikah and I believe I am capable of handling the Kingdom for a day." Link shot up from his seat and hugged Paya, who blushed profusely as she hugged him back."Thank you, Paya." Link signed quickly once he let go of the Sheikah girl. "I'll be back later. I promise it won't be too long!" He grabbed his sword and shield before sprinting to his own room. As always he changed out of his Royal clothing and into his Champion's Tunic. Unlike many other times, he only carried the Master Sword with him. No shield no bow, not even the two weapons given to him by Sidon. No, this was a time for him and his sword. With everything ready, Link took out his Sheikah Slate and a moment later and Link was standing at the shrine near the Woodland stable.It was midday and sun bounced beautifully off the light blue blade of the sword. Link held the legendary weapon tightly in his hand as he made his way up to the path to the very entrance of the Lost Woods. He knew nothing would attack him, but holding the sword made him feel less...exposed. Less lonely.The fog thickened as he drew closer and closer to the forest's entrance. The temperature dropped slightly and Link could now see his breath. The sun had mysteriously vanished yet the Master Sword continued to glow and give off a vibrant light. This was it. He was only a short walk away from returning the blade that has protected him on his long and dangerous journey. He wouldn't see it until the next time Hyrule needed him..."Master." The voice was very faint but Link still heard it. Link looked around for a moment before his eyes settled on the Master Sword. "As your blade throughout the ages, I have a very strong connection with you. Right now that connection is indicating that your stress levels are rising considerably, with that may come a sudden loss of direction. Would you like me to show you the way to the Korok Forest?" Hylia, the voice was just as he remembered it. A monotone gone yet still somewhat endearing. She spoke an old, dead language. One used far before the creation of Hyrule. One Link shouldn't be able to understand as easily as he did yet he could."Fi." The name hit him suddenly. He recalled hearing her voice, hearing her tell Link her name, the very first time he tried to make his way through the confusing and foggy forest. Fi, the spirit within the sword, had shown herself. She had helped Link claim his sword. Now she was talking to him once more so Link could return her to her resting place. "Yes." Link thought to himself. He was certain Fi could hear his thoughts, they had a connection after all! "Show me the way. And...show yourself.""While I cannot leave the Master Sword," something shimmered by a tree and suddenly, she appeared, "I can offer this projection of how my physical form once looked. Shall we make our way trough the forest?" Link laughed breathlessly and nodded. Fi nodded back and began floating backwards, leading Link through the forest."Fi, what is...how long until...I come back and I take the Master Sword again?" Link asked, looking up at the somewhat transparent spirit."Judging from preexisting information on your previous tasks as Hero and Ganon's current state, I estimate it will not be for another two hundred years." Link nodded, looking down at the sword. "The connection is informing me that you are currently wondering if I ever become displeased with waiting so long. I do not. As a spirit inhabiting the sword I do not awaken until you are reborn. However I myself would not even call this being awake. While I am not asleep, per se, I am not awake. I am simply here and I do not mind that.""That's good." Link smiled just a bit. He had forgotten that Fi could practically read his thoughts. "Do you...do you believe I will see my Zelda again? Or anyone from here again?""I calculate a 5% chance that you will see anyone from this era again. You cannot access the Sacred Realm once the Master Sword is returned to its place in the pedestal, so the chances of you seeing the Zelda from here are zero. However there is a 80% chance you may see descendants from this era in the future." Fi lowered herself closer to the ground once the two of them reached the gigantic, hollowed out log. "We have reached the entrance to the Korok Forest. I will now recall this projection." "Stay. Please. It's nice talking to the sword that saved my skin so many. And perhaps you miss seeing your Link. I know I'm not him but at the very least I look like him." "As you wish, Master." The protection rippled and Fi slowly moved to Link's side. The Hylian King smiled and the two made their way into the forest. The fog lifted instantaneously and the sun shone right in Link's face. He could hear the wooden wind chime-like noise of the Korok's coming from all directions. His smile grew wider."Ah." The Great Deku Tree yawned as Link approached the place where the Master Sword once rested. "You've returned. What a wonderful surprise, Hestu was beginning to believe you'd forgotten all about us." Link smiled awkwardly and looked down at the three Silent Princesses in front of him. The Deku Tree hummed and resumed talking once more. "I sense a great deal of turmoil within you, Link.""I've come to return the Master Sword. The Goddesses instructed me to do so..." The Great Deku Tree hummed as Link unsheathed the sword and examined it."I was beginning to wonder when you'd place it back on its pedestal. But I suppose it was still needed after the battle with the darkness." The Hylian King nodded stiffly as he looked back up at the Deku Tree. He quickly glanced at Fi, who was floating quietly besides him, out of the corner of his eye. "The problem with this is I don't want to put it back. Without this sword I feel like...nothing." "That is quite an unsettling mindset, though is expected from someone like yourself. All your life you were conditioned to believe that this very sword was meant to be attached to your hand at all times. If not, then you wouldn't be the Hero sent by the Goddesses. However, that is not true. Not in the slightest." The Koroks began surrounding Link and Fi. Link wasn't sure if the Koroks, or anyone besides him for that matter, could see the spirit of the sword but they sure did act like the could. "With or without your sword you are a hero. You are still the legend passed down from generation to generation." The Koroks began excitedly chattering. Link couldn't make out much of what they were saying but he did catch a few of them exclaiming 'Yes! Mr.Hero will always be a Hero!'"While it is true that the blade you wield plays a major and crucial part in keeping the darkness away, you play an even bigger role. Without you the sword is simply a sword. Without you, there would be no one with courage as divine as the Goddess Farore to go up against an enemy as old as Hyrule itself. Without you the land we live in would not exist. I believe you should, perhaps, think about those truths rather than the ones you've made yourself believe. You are not nothing without the Master Sword, you will still continue to be Link. You will still continue to be the legendary Hero of Hyrule.""If I may, Master Link." Fi spoke, turning to face the Hylian King. "The Ancient Deku Tree speaks all truth. The blade you hold in your hand does not decrease your status as Hero or a person of great importance. In all the times I have been returned to my place in the pedestal the fragments of the Triforce you carry have remained with you thus keeping you as the chosen one." Link smiled ever so slightly as Fi's monotone voice explained to Link how he will always technically be a hero."Are you ready my boy?" Link nodded and held his sword close to his face. Pressing his forehead to the cold blade, Link let a few small tears fall. He really shouldn't be getting so emotional over a sword but he was. "Whenever you are ready simply return the sword to its rightful place. Once it is back you will no longer retrieve it. Not until the next life that is." Another nod and Link let out a shaky breath.Gripping the handle tightly, Link slowly lowered the top into the hole on the pedestal. Fi's projection rippled and became more transparent than before. The Hylian Hero slowly plunged his sword deeper into the pedestal and with each inch, the image of Fi grew weaker. As the sword finally began reaching its limit, Fi slowly floated to the front of Link and bowed her head."It was a pleasure seeing you again, Master Link. I hope to see you soon." With that the tip reached the bottom and Fi's projection vanished. The voice in the sword grew silent and the blade's shining blue light grew dull. The blue light was instead replaced with a low golden light that came from the pedestal itself. Though Link knew that the spirit in the sword could no longer hear him, he still closed his eyes and spoke silently to her in his mind. "See you later, old friend." ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Two days." Impa hummed as she ran her fingers through Link's hair, trying to pull out any twigs that kept mysteriously appearing. "Two days until Sidon can officially be dubbed Sidon Hyrule, Prince Consort of the Kingdom of Hyrule and you can be dubbed Link Hyrule, Prince Consort of the Zora Kingdom." The old woman plucked out a leaf before gently pouring water on Link's long locks. "It's quite funny how the Zora people don't have last names isn't it? I never understood that but I suppose it must have something to do with ancient traditions." Link nodded a little. He was not paying much attention to what Impa was saying in all honesty. In that secret room of the ancient heroes of Hyrule had found one of many books. The one he was reading seemed to offer smaller details on the former heroes. Their likes, dislikes, home life, that sort of stuff.The Sheikah elder dragged the brush through the dirty blond hair and smiled. "Paya has commissioned for lovely new coat to be made for you for your wedding. She's really gotten invested in this entire event. To be frank I'm quite happy she hasn't taken this too hard. Her crush on you had me worried when you tasked her to help plan your wedding. But she has overcome any feelings of grief she's had. Don't tell her I said this but I have read her diary and she's confessed she likes you much better as a best friend than a spouse or anything like that. She's said that your rambunctious behavior would probably have killed her by now. Of course that's not meant to offend you." Link chuckled and set his book down for a moment to lift his hands up into the air so Impa could see and signed out his response."I've read her diary too- don't worry." Impa laughed quietly.The sound of Impa's quiet hums filled the room, joined with the noise of Link turning the ancient pages of heroes long since gone. The brush ran through his tangled, somewhat dirty hair and tried it's best to clean up the messy locks. When all was said and done, Impa made Link stand up so she could take a better look. She examined her work, made him turn in a circle and nodded."I've done the best I could to fix the mess you call hair. But no matter how hard my frail old hands try I cannot seem to get your hair to stay neat. But I suppose those wild strands are what makes you, you." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a light blue band. "My my, your hair has grown quite a lot. It's nearly the length of your entire back. At this rate your ponytail will be as long as mine was when I was a young girl!" As she beckoned for him to kneel down so she can pull his hair into a perfect ponytail he stopped her."I'd like to try something new." Impa raised an eyebrow. As Link flipped to a page in his book showing the Hero of Twilight in his more casual clothes. Several messy sketches of him in different angles were quickly drawn onto the paper by whatever oracle wrote this particular section. "If you believe you can do it- or if you think it'll even look good on me- I'd like to try his hairstyle. I don't know why but it just kind of stuck to me. To be pretty honest I admire him- me?- uh, that hero.""Hm." The Sheikah elder examined the pages and nodded slowly. "I'll go fetch some scissors and get started." Impa turned to leave but Link stopped her and pulled a pair out from a nearby drawer. Impa smiled and and took the scissors before motioning for him to sit down. "It's about time you take my advice and cut this mane of yours. It'll be a nice change and a great look dear. Just you watch." Impa glanced over at the many detailed drawings of the Twilight Hero before parting and preparing Link's hair.-Before any wedding of anyone in the royal Zora family a small ritual or sorts takes place. The Zora with the royal blood is the only participant and it is a long, tedious task. The ritual calls for the one to be married, Sidon the Zora Prince in this case, to do a lengthy amount of prayer. First, to Farore the Goddess of Courage. Sidon must pray to her and ask for the courage for the events that will soon take place as well as the courage to push through any negative obstacle, no matter how big or small. Next, he must pray to the Goddess Din, the Goddess of Power. His prayers to her will be ones asking for the power to keep his marriage and its bond strong forever after. Then prayers to Nayru, the Goddess of Wisdom, are put into place. He will ask her to share her wisdom in times of trouble, share her wisdom in times where he is unsure of his love for his spouse or unsure of what to do to fix any sort of problems. Finally, Sidon is to pray to the previous Zora rulers. He is to ask them to protect not only himself and his kingdom, but his new spouse. He is to ask them for their blessing and forever look out for the love of his life. When all prayer is done Sidon will be presented with the ancient Zora pearls used by the previous rulers used on their own wedding days to give to whomever he's marrying. However that's not the end of it! He must stay where he is and think long and hard over the life changing decision he is making. When is he allowed to leave? When the ancient spirits of the Zora see him to be completely confident in his decision.All silver jewelry was taken off, including the rings given to him from link to symbolize engagement in a Hylian's tradition. When the sun began rising and Divine Beast Vah Ruta began letting out her loud cries to show the start of a new day, Sidon quickly made his way to one of the many waterfalls and swam upwards. The cave in which he was to pray in was separated from the rest of the Domain as to not cause any sort of interference. Its entrance was covered by a waterfall but upon nearing it the water split into two and pulled itself to the sides, much like a curtain would when being opened, to reveal the dark inside. Sidon gulped and slowly stepped onto the flat rocks barely peaking above the surface of the water that led inside. Once he was in the waterfall returned to normal and blue flames sparked to life all around the walls. The blue lights showed a large rock in the very center of the room. The Zora Prince hesitantly continued down the rocks to the much larger one and sat cross-legged on it."Alright," Sidon let out a deep breath, closing his eyes and clasping his hands together in a praying gesture before placing them on the center of his chest, "my time has come.""I am Sidon, Prince of the Zora people and next in line for the throne. I have come before you, the Three Golden Goddesses and the spirits of Zora rulers, to pray for my marriage. Link Hyrule, a man of many miracles will soon become my husband. Link Hyrule; the man that has defeated evil in this life, in his past lives, and in his next lives, the very embodiment of Farore's divine courage, the Hero of the Kingdom of Hyrule, the very King of Hyrule, will forever become a part of the Zora family tomorrow when I am to marry him. I have come to pray for him, my Domain, our marriage, and myself.""O Farore, Goddess of Courage. You and your sisters have all tasked Link with the role of a warrior, returning to fight a never dying darkness. He has won fights and proved himself victorious. He has the very courage you created. Now I am here, asking you for a shard of that courage. I ask you for courage in my decision, please lend me that power as I wake up tomorrow and doubts begin bubbling in the deepest parts of my brain. Please lend me that power when our bond seems to be broken beyond repair and none of us has the strength to fix it, lend me that power to fix problem without doubts in my mind." The wind whistled outside and Sidon was tempted to open his eyes. He restrained himself, however. It was a tradition to have the eyes firmly shut throughout the prayer session, if you opened them and witnesses the great spirits of the Goddesses while asking for their power it was rumored that the marriage would fail tremendously. That and you would possibly die because their power is too much for a mere mortal to witness."O Din, Goddess of Power. I ask you for your immense power in whatever way you see fit. You hold the key to helping me keep my marriage strong, stable, for no relationship is perfect. Your aid would help keep my bond strong, and if it is already strong then it shall make it stronger. I ask you to please, please, give us the strength to continue on in our later years whenever things may seem bleak." The wind picked up and Sidon took in a shaky breath before continuing."O Nayru, Goddess of Wisdom. You have a strong connection to my people. Wisdom has been passed down from one Hylian princess to the next. Now Link is the one with that power. I ask you to allow us a smidgen of that power in times of great crisis. Whether it may be something as major as us on the brink of dissolving our marriage to as minor as seemingly unimportant quarrels. Allow us a piece of your wisdom when we are at each other's throats, hollering at one another. Give us the wisdom to say the correct things, right our wrongs, fix our mess." The water surrounding him was now loudly slapping against the cave's walls and the rock Sidon was on before it all stopped completely. However Sidon wasn't finished yet."Ancient spirits of previous Zora rulers, Zora royals, answer my call and appear before me!" Sidon, keeping his eyes closed, repositioned himself so he was kneeling instead of sitting. "I have come to pray as many of you have before me. I have to come to pray for the guidance of the Goddesses and your blessing as well as protection. Link Hyrule, Hero of the land and King of Hyrule, will be the one I marry tomorrow. I ask you all, my ancestors, to protect this man. Watch over him the way you would your own kin for soon he will forever be a part of the Zora Royal family. Give us your blessing, show me that this marriage is meant to be, show me that no doubts come from myself or from my own bloodlines." There was a deafening silence in the cave. Sidon tried his best to keep his expression as blank as possible but he was sure he looked more like he was in pain than anything else.The sound of water moving was the only thing that he could hear after a full minute of nothing. The Zora Prince opened his eyes to see pale blue balls of light floating around him as well as another, thinner rock, in front of him with the traditional Zora pearls. Sidon smiled and stretched an arm to grab the beautiful pearls before a blue light engulfed them. When it died down the pearls were adorning a golden neck piece, similar to the one Sidon often wore. He smiled and whispered a thank you before he reached for it again. Once the beautiful piece of jewelry was safe in his hands the rock lowered itself into the water. The prayers had ended but the light blue balls of light were still there. Now came the part where Sidon really thought of his decision. The mysterious magic of this secluded cave filled it up with water and left Sidon floating alongside the blue light balls. He held the pearls close to himself as he closed his eyes again and allowed his mind to wander to various thoughts of Link. As the Zora Prince floated in the peaceful waters of the somewhat far off cave the Zora people began packing small bags and diving into the waters of the East Reservoir to try to make the trip to Central Hyrule. Most of the domain's residents had left already and only a few remained. King Dorephan was one of the few who had not yet stood from his throne and began making the long trip to the castle. His personal guards and servants were still gathering some much needed items for himself and Sidon; jewelry, useful weapons (just in case) appropriate wedding attire, much needed food, etc. As they prepared the King was smiling softly and contently, his eyes closed and his body was relaxed.King Dorephan believed the time would eventually come when his children married someone and became their own person. He supposed he always hoped they would remain children, Mipha and Sidon would rule side by side, as siblings. That was the plan Dorephan had in place for them. Then a strange young boy, a Hylian, had one day wandered into the Domain. He had no parents with him and no guardian either, he hadn't even come in the proper way! Some Zora found him trying to climb up the ladder up to the above-water palace. This was when Mipha took a liking to him. The two spent every second they could together whether it was exploring the grassy areas around the Domain, training with wooden weapons, or trying to fight off small ChuChus to something more relaxed such as running around the sparkling Domain and nearly tripping every adult Zora that dared cross their paths. These moments were the ones that made Dorephan realize he did not get to live out his mini-fantasy of Mipha forever being a child and be a fierce Queen. No matter though, Link seemed like a fine boy for his daughter. He wouldn't dare step on her destiny to become a qualified and formidable Queen of the Zora people. In fact, her marrying a Hylian could've boosted the relationship between the Zora and Hylians. Dorephan was content with that.When Sidon came along and the current Queen of the Zora people died from protecting her own home from a particularly angry band of Lizalfos, Dorephan began to believe that things would never be as pleasant as he hoped. His only son would never be able to see, hear, touch, remember his own mother. Dorephan had lost the love of his wife. Mipha had lost a best friend, a parent, a role model. Things were hard but Dorephan did not give up. Once Sidon hatched from the pearly white Zora egg the air changed. While all of the Domain was overcome with grief of the loss of their Queen they changed to a somewhat happier tone when small baby Sidon first opened his gigantic yellow eyes and stared at his subjects. Mipha smiled for the first time since her mother died, as did Dorephan. Link, who hasn't visited in quite some time, began coming back regularly and spent more and more time with the Royal family. Everything seemed to be falling back into place.A small frown flashed onto the Zora King's face as he remembered his daughter volunteering to pilot Divine Beast Vah Ruta. He remembered her bowing and promising Princess Zelda she'd fight for Hyrule until her last breath, she would be willing to die if it meant keeping her family and home safe. He remembered Mipha staying inside the Divine Beast for extended periods of time trying to control the thing. When she did return to the Domain she would collapse in exhaustion on the floor of the throne room. He remembered seeing her stressed and feeling hopeless when should just couldn't figure out how to work the damn elephant, he remembered giving his daughter a bright smile and pumping his fist into the air telling her not to give up, she would be amazing!He remembered getting the news that the Calamity had won, Mipha was dead as were the other champions. Link included. All hope was lost.Sidon was too young to fully grasp the fact that his sister was never coming him. When he did understand his screaming sobs were heart breaking and the pain resonated throughout the Domain. Dorephan felt helpless and much like a failure. He remembered believing that the Zora people would lose their Prince and King along with the Princess, the grief was so painful he believed Sidon and himself would die from it. Years would pass until Sidon became unusually chipper and enthusiastic, it was all a cover-up for the pain he felt. Years would pass until he would hear rumors of a blond and confused Hylian wandering around saving everyone from any harm, looking a bit too much like the fallen hero that fought along side the princess and rest of the champions a hundred years ago. Years would pass until Sidon sent out search parties for Link. The two would meet, Sidon's heart would skip a beat from the rush of excitement he felt at seeing an old friend and the light of hope. They would defeat Vah Ruta, free the trapped soul of the Mipha and continue their friendship. Dorephan would continue to believe that neither one felt any kind of romantic feelings or more he would be oblivious to that fact- Sidon was happy to see an old friend after all! Link was glad to have a companion as opposed to being alone at all times- until one day the new Hylian King would announce that he would begin courting his son and soon a wedding would be in place.Looking back Dorephan didn't understand why he hadn't seen the signs sooner."Sir," one of his servants called out quietly, "All of Sidon's and your things have been prepared. I have been informed that Sidon, however, hasn't returned from the cave. I suggest you leave first given how much...slower your pace is. I am sure that he will be able to catch up with you once he finishes up." The King sighed and opened up an eye. "I presume you all decided among yourselves who would stay with me and who would stay with my son?" The servant nodded. "Ah, excellent. Let us be on our way then." Now came the real struggle.Due to Dorephan's massive size and, of course, age standing up off of his throne was a challenge. His old bones and his weak knees made standing difficult but he managed. Once he was standing he now had to face...the door. With a groan he hunched over and just barely made it out. He had the doorway adjusted more than half a century ago, he knew he would grow to a massive size and just kind of guessed at how tall it should be. Now thinking about it, he should've went with his gut instinct and made the door at the most 45 feet tall instead of 30. "Sir, I suggest you dive down into the water from here. The water below is deep enough where you won't injury yourself with the bottom." Dorephan grunted and nodded, slowly walking to the...rather short wall and peeked over to the water down below. "There are several Zora waiting down below to assist you if you cannot swim up the surface. There is no need to worry.""Worry? Hah!" The gigantic King leaned back, his back cracking. "In my younger days I would jump from the very top of the giant fish into the water! Just because I have gained a few years and haven't been mobile doesn't mean that I've lost the one skill every Zora possesses!" The young servant of his stayed silent, not wanting to discourage her king. She stood back and held her breath as the gigantic Zora dove into the water. As he hoped, he still had the one skill every Zora had (swimming, obviously) and made it into the water safely. A gigantic splash- well more wave - reached the top of the Zora's above water domain. When Dorephan resurfaced he was laughing and hollering. He felt like a young man again."Your highness!" Dorephan looked down to see one of the armor clad Zora waving at him. "We will surround you while escorting you to Hyrule Castle. We have estimated that you will arrive no later than tonight." The Zora King smiled and nodded. He turned to look up at his beautiful domain, it sparkling in the day's light, before he resubmerged himself in the water and began his journey to Hyrule Castle. -The very night before the wedding was quite hectic as one could imagine. Nearly all, if not all, the kingdom had made their way to Hyrule castle, Castle Town, and neighboring villages. While Link tried his best to fit literally all the kingdom in the castle he just couldn't. Luckily the residents in the neighboring villages were kind enough to let families sleep in their homes for the night. When all the homes were packed with families then they turned to the inns and when those were full, well, the remaining had no choice but to camp out in their rather small carriages. This was one of many problems for Link. Riju spent a better part of the evening with her and the other champions (minus Sidon of course) trying to teach Link how to dance. It turns out that in all his years of knightly training he never once learned how to properly slow dance. Of course this was an outrage- this was Link's wedding and he would do it right! So the Gerudo Chief took it upon herself to teach Link how to slow dance. It took many hours and a lot of yelling, irritated sighing, and having Yunobo dance with her as an example to have Link finally be at least somewhat decent at dancing.When all that was done and the four were resting in the Sanctum, Teba cleared his throat and mentioned Link's much shorter hair and new hair style. Link smiled and with his disgustingly raspy voice explained his reasoning. The three champions were too shocked from hearing the Hyrulean King actually speak to respond. Link laughed and laughed at his friends surprised expressions and for the rest of the night they spent their time together asking odd questions about Link's ability to speak and Link refusing to speak again with a smug smile on his face. Eventually Impa came and, like a mother telling her child and their friends that it was time to sleep, commanded all the champions to return to their rooms. They had a big day tomorrow and couldn't afford a single person accidentally falling asleep. They bade one another good night and left, leaving Link in his room all alone. Even when Impa told Link to sleep he couldn't. So instead he got up and walked out onto his balcony. As he looked out onto the horizon of his kingdom his eyes settled on a oncoming group. It didn't take much, not even in the dark, for Link to realize who it was. He smiled as he watched the tall red figure be led into the castle. Before Link himself could be seen, however, he quickly made his way back to his bed. A silent prayer and thank you to the Three Golden Goddesses later and Link had his eyes squeezed shut trying to invite sleep in. He just couldn't wait for tomorrow.-White was everywhere and it was blinding.The decorations were up, the sun was out and the sky was clear. It was a perfect day for a royal wedding. Paya was just setting up the last of the decorations and guests were already starting to fill in whatever amount of seats there were and almost all were already taken. Paya silently cursed herself for underestimating the sheer size of the entire kingdom and prayed that there would be enough room in at least Castle Town to accommodate this large amount of people for the celebratory party afterwards. While that went on the grooms-to-be were preparing themselves. Link was pulling on the beautiful clothes specially made for this occasion; a rather long white coat with repeated stitching of the Triforce and Zora symbol on the cuffs and ends. His shirt was tucked into the usual gigantic belt that displayed the Triforce but this shirt had some rather nice pearls as buttons and, again, the Zora symbol on it. This time it was a pin made of, you guessed it, pearls that was over his heart. His jewelry consisted mostly of pearls and gold with sprinkles of emeralds (to honor the Goddess Farore of course). The whole time Link was being dressed into these rather extravagant garbs he couldn't think of how...much it is. Then again it was his wedding day, he should be sporting pearls and showing them off and yelling "I'm marrying a Zora Prince! I'm marrying a Zora Prince!"Sidon's outfit consisted of mostly jewelry of course. The Zora people had no need for clothes, plus shiny metals and gems were far more beautiful than any cloth. The Zora Prince, however, sported a rather nice green sash with a sword stitched on. It was similar the one on Link's tunic except this sword had Farore's symbol on the blade along with a single triangle. His neck piece was made of gold and showed off the Triforce, emerald pieces decorating the area around it. His fingers were covered in rings made of pearls, his necklaces had diamonds and sapphires, his bracelets once again had the Triforce on it along with the Zora's Symbol. His crown (or headpiece) was similar to his father's, a sort of circle that rested on top of his head with some protruding parts that had held pearls in them, the only difference was that Sidon's headpiece had a nice ruby in center part. Sidon looked stunning and those helping put all this jewelry on him fawned over how gorgeous it all looked, how gorgeous he looked. Sidon stared at his reflection, a soft smile on his face. Paya walked in a moment later. Her hair was mostly put up in a bun for the exception of a couple strands hanging loosely in front of her face. The new style and ceremonial outfit made her look like a much younger version of Impa. She smiled and nodded. Sidon practically leapt out of his seat. It was time. The wedding was about to begin. Rushing through the castle covered in heavy jewelry while simultaneously trying not to bump into other rushing guests or wedding helpers was quite the hassle. Paya was gripping onto Sidon's gigantic hand so tightly and running so fast he was worried he would trip more than once! Luckily he didn't and no ring, bracelet, or necklace fell off either. When he was in position Paya did one final check before running off back into the castle to make sure Link was in position. Sidon was now alone (well as alone as one could be when surrounded by Zora guards) and awaiting the start of Kass' accordion which was the Zora Prince's signal to make his way to the alter. From where he was standing he could barely get a glimpse of it. Sidon knew that Link was probably seeing the same thing but on the opposite side of course. Paya's plan was to have the two of them walk at the same time to the alter that way they see each other at the same time. It was more romantic that way, the over excited Sheikah explained. Kass' accordion began playing and Sidon's breath stopped. He gulped and began walking, his loyal guards going at the same pace as him. The hundreds and hundreds of guests all rose and looked off at the directions where the two husbands-to-be came from. Sidon didn't dare look at anyone. He looked straight ahead and continued walking. Then he saw him, Link, and he looked like a living dream.As cliche as it may seem Sidon would describe the next few moments of his life as this; the world around him faded away. Everything and everyone was a blur. Link was the one thing he focused on. A gigantic smile broke onto his face as the two of them continued walking to one another. Once they finally reached the alter the world came back into focus but it didn't matter. Sidon couldn't take his eyes off the most beautiful hylian in front of him. "The History of Hyrule," Impa's voice rang out loudly as the ceremony began, "Is often one looked at in pain. Our kingdom has faced death and disaster time and time again that our past is almost always one people want to forget. However, today we make history. Today will be a day everyone will fondly remember. For today is the day the King of Hyrule and Prince of the Zora are to be wed." The guests all cheered and clapped. Impa raised a hand and the crowd died down. "As you all know, marriage isn't to be taken lightly. Many people have come to me and asked me whether I believed Link was ready for such a large commitment. Their arguments have always been he's too young, he just woke up from the Shrine of Resurrection, he's only acting on post Calamity feelings, he is too reckless for this kind of thing, he is too wild. Link himself has come to me with these same arguments. Doubts would fill his mind as he begged me to throw some sense his way. He would say that maybe he wasn't ready for marriage, he was too wild, maybe he wasn't meant to be in such a relationship, maybe he wasn't meant to marry royalty, maybe he wasn't meant to marry at all. To all those doubts of his and all those who doubted him I have one thing to say: Do not worry. If you were too wild I'm plenty sure that the Zora Prince would have gone running long before you realized your true feelings." The crowd laughed and Sidon gave a quiet chuckle. "If you were not meant to marry then the Golden Goddesses would have struck you down the moment such a thought entered your head. If you weren't ready to marry then you would not have marched yourself into King Dorephan's throne room to announce you wished to court his son. As for the being too young I doubt that is an issue, you being over one hundred after all.""Marriage, as I was saying, is serious. It takes the patience and energy of both people. In this case, it took the patience of our own Zora Prince. Sidon, was the first of the two to realize his true feelings. With that came a great burden: getting Link to understand how he felt and pray that our painfully oblivious hero felt the same. The Prince is patient and he waited. He was there for Link when no one else was, when no one else could be. He was there to witness our king crack under pressure. He was there to witness our hero learn the dark truths of the heroes past. He was there when nightmares took over his sleep, when paranoia filled his mind, when stress overwhelmed him. He was there to see the parts of Link no one else in the Kingdom has. He was a friend, a shoulder to cry on, a pillar of support. He gave Link all his love, all his support, all of himself, and his never ending patience is now being paid." The guests all clapped, some of them crying a bit. "It is time for the two to exchange vows. Sidon will be the one to start." Impa stepped back and motioned for Sidon to begin speaking. The Zora nodded, cleared his throat, and began."Link..." Another deep breath. "Link, last night as I floated in the dark waters and thought of the obviously important decision I'm making I couldn't simply focus on the idea of marriage. I could only focus on you which may sound silly given the fact that I am marrying you but give me a moment to explain. I could only think of you and all the wonderful things I love. The way you get so confused with expressing feelings at times that you turn to having to defeat some sort of monster to show me how much you love me or doing the opposite and just blurting it out. The way you care for animals and treat them as if they were your own children! The way your eyes light up when you talk to me after a long day of exploring the home you love. The way your heart goes out to anyone you meet, the way you do anything it takes to ensure the happiness of your fellow Hylian, Zora, Rito, Gerudo, or Goron. Link, I know I have said this so many times before but you have gone through so much in your life. You have had countless battles and there is no doubt you will have countless more. But there is also no doubt you will win each and every one of them.""When I look in those lovely blue eyes of yours I see the sky. The beauty, security, and mystery of it. I see eyes that have stared into the very face of evil. I see the tiring nights, the despair, the fear, and the power you have faced. I see the way you look at me with those beautiful blue eyes and my heart skips a beat because I know that you see me and often believe some magical and evil force will take me away and you feel the need to protect me. You would probably throw yourself into battle for me, but listen to me when I say don't do it. Not on your own at least. As of today you and I are one, if something were to threaten me, you, or the kingdom then we shall go off into battle together. We shall defeat the evil together, and we shall return victorious together." Paya walked up slowly a pillow with the neck piece Sidon was given last night resting upon it. Sidon carefully picked the beautiful thing up and turned back to Link. "Normally a Zora royal is given pearls to present to their spouse on their wedding day, however the ancient spirits of rulers since past have presented me with this lovely thing instead." The Zora knelt down and gently put the neck piece on Link. Link had tears in his eyes, he gently touched the neck piece and looked back up to Sidon with a smile. "Now, it is time for Link to begin his vows." Sidon stood back up and waited for Paya to step up to translate what Link would say. She didn't."Sidon..." The Zora's eyes widened as he looked down at Link. He was sure everyone else was looking at the Hylian King the same way. "I've been alive for more years than I can count. I've lost my memories, my friends, my family. I pretty much died then was revived by a magical bath and a long nap. When I first came to I was thrown into a seemingly impossible adventure. I was afraid, more afraid than anyone could possibly imagine. Even with the courage of a goddess my knees would buckle and my hands would sweat a the first sign of danger. But I guess that all kind of changed when I first met you.""Going up the path to the Zora's domain was terrifying. At the time I was weak and barely had any decent weapons. All the monsters were electric based and it was raining. I was sure I was a goner. But I kept thinking about you and how you suddenly...showered me in such generous compliments and encouragement and I wasn't afraid. When we went out to defeat Vah Ruta you encouraged me to stay strong as I swam up the water and shoot arrows in the sky, I wasn't afraid. When I went in and battled the disgusting monster Ganon had made, I wasn't afraid. I kept thinking of you, your kind words, your strong belief in me. You gave me the true courage to continue." Sidon smiled softly, tears running down his cheeks. Link reached over and took the Zora's hands in his own before continuing. "You've been with me through so much. You've seen me at my worst and my best. You have had first hand experience of what I go through each and every day whether that day be me going out to endure nature and battle monsters or run a kingdom with no experience at all. You've learned all about me and my past. You know all the dark secrets kept between me, the Goddesses, and the royal family and yet you still deem me a good spouse. You've taken a weapon for Hyrule that has been programmed to fight no matter what, that has no real way of dealing with emotions, that can't ever see himself as useful, and made him believe he is something extraordinary. Before waking up would be a struggle, I never wanted to do it because I hated being myself so much. But now, waking up isn't so bad when I know I have someone that is willing to help me, talk to me, work with me, and love me by my side. I can't promise that you and I will forever feel like the perfect couple and our marriage will be perfect forever. But I can promise you that together we'll fight whatever comes in our way. No matter how big, strong, difficult the obstacle or opponent may be, we'll get through it. Together." Sidon was crying, as were most of the guests. Link's way with words were...interesting. His voice wasn't as raspy as last night but it still sounded slightly strange but even then it didn't ruin the moment. Sidon didn't know if all that Link said would be the same if he hadn't told him vocally!"And now," Impa stepped forward as Paya walked up with the rings, "comes the final part of the ceremony." The Sheikah girl handed the two their rings. "Do you, Link, King of Hyrule and Hero of the Goddess, take Sidon, Prince of the Zora, as your lawfully wedded husband. Do you swear to the Goddess Hylia that you will forever bind yourself to him and keep him safe, be with him no matter what?" "I do." Link smiled, tears now running down his cheeks as he placed the golden ring on Sidon's finger.""And do you, Sidon, Prince of the Zora, take Link, King of Hyrule and Hero of the Goddess, as your lawfully wedded husband? Do you swear to the Goddess Hylia that you will forever bind yourself to him and keep him safe, be with him no matter what?""I do." Sidon could barely keep his voice loud enough for everyone to hear as he slowly slid the ring onto Link's finger."And do the two of your promise to work together as the new Kings of Hyrule as well as future rulers of the Zora Domain. Do you promise to keep the peace in our kingdom, to protect everyone, to do everything in your power to protect the land the Goddess Hylia and the Three Golden Goddesses Farore, Din, and Nayru created?""We do." The two said in unison. They gripped on another's hands tightly, eagerly waiting the next phrase."With the power bestowed upon me by the Goddesses I now pronounce the two of you husband and husband, Kings of Hyrule, future Kings of the Zora Domain. You may now kiss." Link leapt onto Sidon and clung onto him as he kissed his husband passionately. Sidon was half expecting this and held onto his hylian husband, kissing him back and sealing their marriage. The guests cheered loudly. They stood and clapped. But neither Link nor Sidon could hear them. Everything melted away again. All that mattered in the moment was the two of them in that moment.-The celebratory party after the wedding went smoothly, as Paya hoped. There was plenty of food to go around and plenty of cake as well (she had ordered at least 150 cakes just to be sure, she was feeding an entire kingdom after all!). Yes, the Goddesses had blessed her and now Paya had the time to relax and enjoy the things she's been planning for months. Everyone congratulated her more than they did the newly married couple! This didn't bother either of them, however. Sidon and Link both felt like their Sheikah friend deserved the praise. They made note to properly pay her back very very soon.The two were inseparable throughout their party. Their hands were constantly clasped in one anothers as they spoke to friends. The other three "new" champions were the first to talk to them. Teba gave Link and Sidon a big speech about marriage and how it was two halves working together. Riju congratulated them and said she expects any future daughters or even pets to be named after her. Yunobo was so happy he was still crying as he hugged the two of them. Next came the royalty or leaders, whatever they were referred to in their respective homes. Bludo bellowed out how proud he was that Link found someone he could fight evil with. Kaneli proclaimed that if the two needed the perfect place for a honeymoon, the Rito Village was always a beautiful place. Riju stopped by again to make sure Link and Sidon understood that a daughter or pet had to be named after her. King Dorephan slowly lumbered over and with tears in his eyes wished the happy couple a life full of perfection. It was like that for the better half of the day. People went up to the two, congratulated them, gave them their wedding present and ran off to join the party. When all that was done, Link and Sidon got a moment to breathe before Riju yanked them out to have their first dance together. It was, obviously, a slow dance. The Gerudo Chief stayed nearby, dancing with Yunobo, to watch Link. As expected he wasn't perfect but it was enough to make Sidon feel like a God and make Link feel like he wasn't stumbling around. Hours later as the sun began to set the party was still in full swing. Riju had finally returned the Sheikah Slate to Link. He had asked her to take pictures throughout the day so Pikango could later turn them into beautiful paintings. Link and Sidon went through the photographs and smiled at each one of them (Link silently praised himself for asking Purah to upgrade his Sheikah Slate to allow him to take a lot more pictures). As the two smiled and laughed at the pictures, Link looked up to Sidon's beautiful face, his own smile turning softer. The Hylian King stood up and pulled his husband away from the crowd, away from the party, and into the castle. Link didn't speak until they had reached the very top of the castle where the Sanctum was. The two stood by the wall and looked down at the party below."I can't believe its happened." Link said breathlessly, still staring off at the horizon. "We got married.""It is quite a big moment in our lives." Sidon agreed, squeezing his husbands hand. "I have to say, never in a thousand years did I think I would marry someone as divine as you." Link blushed. "May I ask why you chose to speak today? Not that I'm complaining. Your voice is magnificent.""I'm sure you already know this but the only reason why I stopped speaking was because I was always so stressed and pressured to be perfect. To be the hero of everything. I was scared. One day it all got to me and I just couldn't get the energy to speak. Ever since then I haven't been able to talk. But now...with you all that melts away." Link smiled. There were tears in both their eyes for the about tenth time that day. "Sidon," Link rubbed his husband's hand with his thumb, "I love you.""I love you too, Link." Sidon whispered. The two kissed. In each others arms they felt happier than they've ever been. They felt whole. In that moment the whole world melted away once more as the they shared an unforgettable moment. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "You shouldn't let the gossip get to you, my dear." Sidon hummed as he placed every single piece of jewelry away for the night. "You and I both know that there is no possible way for us to conceive a child, especially not a child with the divine blood of the goddess Hylia." Link grunted rather loudly and continued to, rather violently, polish the savage lLynel crusher he had managed to snag out of the hands of the silver beast. The weapon was already spotlessly clean, Link could see his own upset reflection staring right back at him, but he still continued rubbing it with the rag in his hand. "Link," Sidon sighed and sat besides his husband, "Wasn't it you that had reassured me that the Goddesses had a plan for the next goddess blooded princess? I seem to recall you rolling your eyes and waving my own worries away while stating that you had complete faith in the Three Golden Goddesses. Now its a year later and you hear one person mention the fact that there is "no heir and no mortal Goddess" and suddenly you're throwing all faith out the window!" The Hylian King stopped his cleaning and crossed his arms, looking away from Sidon."I don't like to see you this upset. Especially not over something so small and so...fixable." The giant Zora Prince wrapped an arm around Link and pulled him closer. When Link didn't respond to the affection Sidon sighed and stood up before picking Link up from under his arms, much like how someone would pick up a small animal or child. The Hylian King glared at Sidon but Sidon merely smiled back. "Cheer up, my pearl. The Goddesses have not let us down once, I'm quite certain they won't let us down now. Besides," the zora prince brought his spouse closer and placed a gently kiss to his lips, "Such a heartbreaking expression should never make its home on your beautiful face." Link blushed darkly and attempted to keep his upset face but it didn't last long. Soon he was smiling and looking at anything besides Sidon so his smile wouldn't grow."You're cheating you know." Link signed as his Zora husband set him back down onto the bed. "Using your smooth talk to get me to feel better is considered cheating and you should feel rather ashamed of yourself.""Now why should I? You yourself have said that in battle you must use everything you can to win. No holding back." Link couldn't argue with that logic.The rest of the night was spent in bed, the two of them talking about anything they could think of. Link's hair had grown back to where he could have a pony tail again, Sidon had learned more and more about his ancestors with Hyrule Castle's extensive library (he had learned that the zoras of old had used their arm fins as some sort of weapon which was pretty cool, he wished to see if it was still possible), Link had to go up to the Eldin Tower Region to speak with Bludo about some odd increase of Lynels in the area, and Sidon was to meet with Riju to catch up with her. When their small talk had returned to the more serious topic of whether or not they would ever have a goddess blooded child Sidon sighed, pulled Link close and kissed his forehead. He reminded the King that everything would work out. He had to have faith."Although," Sidon mumbled a moment after convincing Link that everything would work out, "It would be nice to have a child." He leaned over and put out the light of their bed-side candle before snuggling closer to his husband and continuing. "It would be a dream to raise a child- or even children- with you, my love. Anyway, sweet dreams." Sidon closed his eyes and sighed contently. Link, however, did not close his eyes and to sleep soundly. Instead the Hylian King was now more awake than ever, panicking slightly. Now he knew for a fact that Sidon wanted a children (or children) and Link wasn't about to let his husband down.-"We've been seeing Lynels a lot lately, Goro." Yunobo mumbled as he walked Link through the entrance of Goron City. "It's gotten kind of scary to be honest...I-I know that I have Lord Daruk's shield power but...still. Lynels are fierce monsters, Goro!" Link nodded, adjusting his crown. He decided to not wear the usual fireproof suit one would wear if visiting Death Mountain. Instead he chugged about three fireproof elixirs and deemed himself good to go. "These Lynels..." Yunobo continued, rubbing the back of his neck, "I dunno. They're...scarier. They look like they're a different color but Boss says it's just the, uh, "fire in the air". I don't believe him, Goro. Somethings kind of off. But then again that's what you're here for!""Don't worry." Link signed. "I'll fix the problem. Lynels are a piece of cake." The young Goron smiled and thanked his friend, offering him a word of encouragement before finally pointing him in the direction of the Goron Boss, Bludo. Link hurried over, wanting to resolve the issue as soon as possible. Bludo explained the situation, all around the outskirts of Death Mountain there have been multiple reports of Lynel sightings. Bludo estimated a total of six Lynels surrounded the area, mostly silver ones. There was one, however, that people thought to be a weird yellow sort of color. Bludo stated that he believed it was probably the fiery air of Death Mountain making it look like that since that particular Lynel happened to be closer to the volcano than the rest. Link nodded, thanked Bludo for the information, and got straight to work.Normally this would be a job for the soldiers trained to handle these overpowered monsters but Link didn't want to risk anything. So many Lynels...he didn't think even the best of his soldiers could handle six Lynels. Plus Link missed the adventure.He headed to the stable that rested at the foot of the Eldin Region and asked the stable manager of people that had gone out during the night (to keep an eye out for them, just in case). The manager reported that only a small group had gone. Two hylian adults and four children. But they had left early yesterday evening and were heading towards the hot springs located behind the mountain. That was a relief.He got on with his task, visiting Robbie's Tech Lab to purchase a few ancient arrows (Robbie only allowed Link to buy three, he spouted something about upgrading the arrows so he needed as many as possible) before beginning his search for the Lynels.It was easy work. Within an hour Link had found and defeated one silver Lynel without trouble. He continued his search, using the weapons Sidon had given to him when he first proposed as well as some other ones Link has been hoarding since he first woke up from the Shrine of Resurrection. When he defeated the fifth silver Lynel most of his weapons were broken and useless. No matter. He had all three ancient arrows. The last beast would be the fastest to kill.He spent a good two hours searching for the final foe and so far he had no luck. He checked and double checked his Sheikah Slate, making sure the tracking for Silver Lynels was on, and attempted "activate the animal instincts" he supposedly developed while traveling alone. Nothing happened.Link was beginning to lose hope. Perhaps someone had already defeated the last Lynel? That was unlikely but it wasn't impossible. He continued his search. He reached the point where there was rocks mixing in with ruins of old villages. Hardened lava made up the ground and a cliff leading to certain death was in eye sight. Still, he saw no sign of a Lynel and decided that maybe getting up on higher ground would help. So he begun climbing the mountain side and carefully jumped from ledge to ledge, keeping an eye out for any sign of the monster.A screech pierced through the air and Link looked around wildly in search of the source. Just in front of the Eldin Great Skeleton was a small group that Link only assumed to be the ones who had left the day before. They were backing away from an usually large Lynel (nearly twice as big as any silver one) with weird gold skin.Link began sprinting down the side of the mountain, pulling out his bow and ancient arrows. One of the two hylian adults was injured and on the ground, trying their best to drag themselves away from danger. The other adult had pushed the crowd of children behind them, shield up. The Lynel raised its gigantic crusher and just as the injured hylian prepared for the worst, the other dove and raised the shield in a feeble attempt to deflect the weapon.The monster didn't even hesitate to swing and knock both hylians off the side of the cliff and to both their dooms.Another loud shriek was heard and the Lynel focused on the group of four children. Link began running even faster. He jumped off a small ledge and aimed in midair he aimed and shot the ancient arrow.It had no affect.Link's heart sank. The beast didn't even seem bothered by the fact that it was just hit by an arrow. The children continued backing up as the Lynel slowly went forward. He was nearly there. Nearly there...The monster's pace quickened as it raised it crusher once more. Just a little farther.Link hastily yanked the Sheikah Slate off of his hip, running faster, and quickly pressed on the stasis option. He aimed the Slate and pressed it once more. The Lynel was frozen in time but only for a short while. When the stasis wore off and the golden beast turned to look at what caused his momentary stop, Link was already there. With the strength of Lord Daruk, the tiny hylian king successfully tackled the monster to the ground. Not a second later and Link had stood up once more, ran to the frightened children, scooped all four of them up into his arms and began sprinting towards the skull of the Eldin Great Skeleton. Once they were safely hidden from the Golden Lynel, Link got a good look at the kids. The eldest looked like a Gerudo, she carried a baby Goron in her arms and holding onto both of her arms was a silver Zora and a blue feathered Rito."Stay here." Link said as he handed the shield to the Zora child. Before any of them could respond Link had already pulled out his sword and was sprinting towards the enraged Lynel. He already knew that this monster would probably impossible to beat, if it didn't instantly disintegrate when hit with an ancient arrow then a sword wouldn't do any damage.Link dodged a swing of the giant crusher and got an idea. If Link couldn't hurt the monster with his weapons, maybe the Lynel's own weapons would be enough to hurt it. It would be risky, so very risky, but he had to deal with this monster before anyone else got killed.Link dodged again, pulled the Slate off of his hip and froze the Lynel for a split second before unfreezing him and snapping his fingers. The lighting struck the golden monster and it dropped its over-sized weapon to the ground. The Hylian King ran to the crusher and froze the Lynel once more before picking up its weapon. It was admittedly heavy, but the adrenaline of the battle gave Link that extra bit of strength. He began hitting the frozen beast like crazy and once the stasis wore off, the Lynel was flying off the edge of the ground and down into the chasm where its earlier victims lay dead. The battle was over and Link's adrenaline was gone.The four children watched the hold thing, heads poking out the side of the giant skull. Link took a moment to catch his breath before he walked back to the four kids, dragging the Lynel's weapon behind him."That...was so cool!" The silver-scaled Zora girl exclaimed, running towards Link. "The way you just-just tackled it!! Then you used lightning!! And you froze it!! And you used its own weapon to-to smack it dead!!" Link smiled. "Oh! I'm Cilia! That's Nanju." She pointed to the Gerudo who was clutching a Goron baby in her arms. "The little Goron she's carrying is Derun. And he," She pointed to the Rito boy, "is Areli.""You're...the King." Nanju asked, tilting her head. Link nodded again. "Thank you. For saving us.""Anytime." The Hylian King took his shield back from Cilia, patting her head. "I'm just sorry I couldn't save your parents.""Those two," Areli sighed, "weren't our parents. Just a couple of delusional hylians that got too excited at the idea of looking like the kingdom's heroes for collecting orphans and finding them homes." The Rito boy shrugged before speaking again. "But they did offer us food and protection for a short while so I suppose their death is somewhat tragic." The other two solemnly nodded in agreement. Link blinked and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly."Right, well...I suppose I should take you all...uh, to the springs? I was informed by the Foothill Stable manager that you all were going there.""Yes, in hopes of finding a home for Derun but none of the Gorons there wanted to adopt him. They brought us too look at the skeleton and cheer us up." Nanju sighed. "Now we have no where else to go." Link thought for a moment. He supposed he could take them all with him to Hyrule Castle while he finds suitable caretakers."I hope you don't mind the long trip to the Central Tower Region because I'm bringing you all to the Castle with me." Link took Derun from Nanju's arms and held onto him, beginning to walk."What?!" Cilia's tail flapped happily as she ran besides Link. "We get to stay in the Castle?! With you?! And Prince Sidon!! Will I meet him??" Link smiled and nodded."Will we really get to stay in Hyrule Castle?" Nanju's eyes practically sparkled at the idea of getting to stay in such an extravagant castle after spending so much time in cold caves and makeshift tents."Of course." With his free hand Link unhooked his Sheikah slate again and opened up the map. "I usually travel by shrines. I can get anywhere in Hyrule with the Sheikah Slate. Up until a few months ago I couldn't bring anyone else along because it only worked for the, uh, "chosen hero", but Robbie and Purah recently upgraded it so I can have people join me. But...there's a lot of us so I won't make it take us too far. Just in case." Link swiped a finger across the screen of the slate, looking for a shrine a good distance away. "Alright, everyone hold onto me." They all did, grabbing onto Link as tightly as they could. A moment later they became nothing but blue light floating up into the sky and vanishing.A second passed and suddenly they appeared at a shrine not too far from the South Akkala Stable.Cilia squealed and turned to face Link with wide eyes. Nanju blinked, confused at what had just happened. Areli was the only one that spoke."What was that? What happened? How'd we get here?" Areli questioned, looking at Link for answers. Link smirked and patted the Sheikah Slate that had been returned to its place on his hip."The Slate is connected to the shrines and towers scattered around Hyrule. With this, I can go anywhere I wish." He shifted Derun in his arms before he began walking. "Come on, we have a long way to go." The three children stood there in shock for a moment longer before running after Link and attacking him with question after question.They spent the rest of the day walking along the dirt path that led to Hyrule Castle. Link, of course, was going to travel via Sheikah Slate again, he wouldn't dare make these kids walk all the way to Hyrule Castle, he was just taking precautions just in case. He couldn't have the slate suddenly stop working while teleporting and have them all stuck in whatever blue light took them. Besides, Link enjoyed spending time with these kids.Areli, the Rito, resembled Revali in some ways. They were both somewhat cold towards people and both were very confident in their flight skills. Other than that, however, Areli was an entirely different being. Areli, unlike Revali, seemed more of a silently judge kind of person. He was quiet for a good while after they began their long walk but he seemed to be warming up to Link. He even spoke about his past and explained that he didn't want to become a Rito Warrior but at the very same time he did. He held a grudge against every monster out in Hyrule, especially the Talus'. When he was just a young Rito, barely able to fly, his parents took him up to the Hebra Mountains to enjoy the snow and spend a quiet afternoon together. Unfortunately that night took a turn for the worse when an Ice Talus emerged from the snow and killed the two of them. Areli was barely able to escape. He spent two days alone out in the cold before those two Hylians found and took him in. Since then he made up his mind and promised himself that he would do anything to protect the one place he could still consider a home even if he hasn't been there in quite some time and had no living family there.Nanju, a young Gerudo, was only a couple years younger than Riju. Nanju seemed somewhat stoic, but she warmed up to Link almost as fast as Areli did. She talked about her travels with the other three kids, what she liked (sweets and fruits) and what she disliked (pesky bugs) and even of her life before. She was sent out into the Kingdom with her father so she could experience life outside of Gerudo Town. A week after their trip began, she found out her father had joined the Yiga Clan. When he fell asleep one night she took matters into her own hands and with a small knife she got rid of another threat to Hyrule. After that she wandered on her own for a while until she finally made it back to the desert. When she did she heard that her mother was taken out by members of the Yiga Clan. She left Gerudo Town again, never wanting to return. One day she bumped into Areli and he introduced the two hylians taking care of him to her. She became an official member of their little group after that.Cilia, the silver scaled Zora, was the brightest of the bunch. Link commented that she reminded him a lot of Sidon and how positive and happy he is. She opened up almost immediately, stating that hearing Nanju and Areli talk so openly gave her the confidence to do so as well. Both her parents had disappeared. It's what people told her. One day the two of them had gone out to explore the sea beyond Hyrule's boundary and they haven't returned since then. That was over a year ago. On the anniversary of their disappearance, Cilia gave up waiting for them. She felt like a burden on the Zora people that took turns taking care of her so she left. With nothing but a few rupees and a small bag of fish she swam down the waterfalls and through the rivers until her body was sore from swimming. It was Nanju that found her, passed out at the shore of a river. They took her in and she has been with them ever since."Derun," Nanju began after she peeked over at the Goron child sleeping in Link's arms, "was abandoned. We found him while we were making our way through the Akkala Region we found him half-buried under some leaves. That's why we went to the springs behind Death Mountain...the two hylians taking care of us decided not to go to Goron City because Derun's parents would probably be there and..." Nanju sighed and shook her head. "Never mind."They walked silently for a minute. Link wasn't exactly sure what to do or say. These kids were all so...unlucky, to put it lightly."Don't you usually, I dunno, not talk?" Areli broke the silence and interrupted Link's thoughts. "Even when you're giving your kingly speeches and whatnot you...do sign language and have that Sheikah girl translate. Why are you speaking so much now?" The three of them looked up at Link curiously. Cilia tilted her head."It's true, I'm more...comfortable not actually talking and signing, but this way it's easier to speak with you three. Since you're kids. And it's not that big a deal for me anymore. Verbally speaking, that is." Link chuckled. "I remember...just last year, maybe a little longer, I couldn't bring myself to speak to anyone. It was a gigantic effort for me to say a simple hello.""But why?" Nanju asked, quirking an eyebrow."Well, when I first woke up from the Shrine of Resurrection I didn't exactly remember how to talk so there's that." Link grinned and the three giggled. "But in all seriousness, I couldn't talk. The weight of the world was on my shoulders, I didn't want to let anyone down. I didn't want anyone to believe I was incapable of protecting them and Hyrule. So I stayed quiet. And when I defeated the Calamity and...Zelda died I still stayed quiet. I had failed to protect the Princess and true savior of Hyrule and couldn't...talk to people knowing that they believed I was the one who saved everyone when it was her. I felt too guilty to speak. Even before I went into my hundred year sleep I couldn't speak. The fate of Hyrule was on my shoulders and the crushing weight of it was getting to me."Silence fell on the group again. Now it was Areli, Cilia, and Nanju who didn't know what to say. They looked at one another, then at Link. Link didn't notice them, he was lost in thought and staring straight ahead. Nanju hesitantly raised a hand and placed it on Link's shoulder."I don't believe that was your fault, Princess Zelda dying. The Goddesses must have had that planned for her already. There was nothing you could do." Link blinked, surprised by the sudden contact and consolation. Then he smiled slightly and nodded."Thank you for saying that." Nanju nodded and removed her hand.Conversation after that wasn't so awkward. The three kids asked Link questions about his favorite food, color, weapon, area in Hyrule, etc. Link showed off the powers granted to him by the previous Champions and re-told the amazing stories about how he and the new Champions defeated the four corrupted Divine Beasts and freed the spirits of the old Champions.When night had fallen, Link was lucky to run into a travelling merchant. He bought food for the kids, letting all four of them eat and rest up in a nearby forest. While they did that, Link also bought a few of hylain hoods (much to the merchant's confusion) and proceeded to tie them all together. When he was certain they were tightly tied to one another he removed his shield and the gigantic Lynel weapon (yes he still had it with him, he wasn't just going to let a perfectly good weapon go to waste!) from his back and placed them on the ground. He wrapped the tied up hoods around his chest and stared at the two items he had placed on the floor. The shield was easy, he was just going to tie it besides the Sheikah Slate. The gigantic Lynel crusher however... that was a bit more difficult. He struggled for a good while but eventually he was able to also attach that too to his belt. Yes it would be uncomfortable and it would be dragged on the ground but oh well. That was a small price to pay.When the kids all grew bored and were ready to continue their long walk they went back to the Hylian King who was eagerly awaiting them. He took a now awake Derun and placed him in the front of his makeshift sash. Cilia climbed into the back, giggling at the very thought that the King of all of Hyrule was carrying her on his back."Isn't this too much weight for you?" Areli asked as he and Nanju clambered into Link's open arms. "The two of us are older, we can walk.""I know that." Link stood up when both of them were sitting on one arm each. "I also know that when I was on my own walking through Hyrule I wished I could have someone carry me." He began walking. "There's a lot of areas where horses can't go, you know. Plus the sun is setting. Just because I risk my sleep schedule to keep wandering around doesn't mean you all have to.""Thank you." Cilia yawned, closing her eyes. "You're so nice to us. I hope one day we all have parents as nice as you..." She closed her eyes and began drifting off to sleep as did the other three. Link continued walking, smiling silently to himself.-The very next morning the four of them woke up to the sunlight hitting their faces and a dog barking rather loudly. They were in separate beds in what looked like a stable. Link was talking to a merchant with a beedle-shaped backpack. When he noticed the four of them awake he said goodbye to the merchant and walked to them."Good morning." Link smiled. "We're at the Woodland Stable. We should be able to get to the castle today but we have to leave soon." The four of them nodded slowly got out of bed. Link handed them plates of what looked like wildberry crepes. They ate excitedly, talking about what they thought the castle would be like. Link chuckled and listened, feeding Derun his share of crepes. When all the food was gone they continued their walk.With every step they took they got even more excited. Hyrule Castle was getting closer and closer and they were all practically running towards it. Even Derun, who hardly understood what was going on, was excitedly babbling and pointing at the castle.When they entered Castle Town their excitement finally reached its peak. Cilia and Nanju grabbed both of Link's hands and excitedly dragged him down the roads, squealing at everything they saw. Areli flew close and pointed out things he saw from above. The residents of Castle Town bowed knelt down and bowed in the presence of their King, slightly confused why he had four children with him. Finally, Link was being dragged to the entrance of Hyrule Castle. The two guards opened up the doors for the King and his...young guests and the five of them walked in."Grandma, please calm down!" Paya exclaimed as she followed behind Impa who was walking at top speed towards Link. Cilia and Nanju stopped abruptly and quickly hid behind Link, peeking out from behind his arms. Areli lowered himself from the air and stood besides Cilia."You!" Impa stopped, not yet noticing the four children so closely attached to Link. "You had half the kingdom worried sick over you.""Why?" Link reverted back to signing out his words. He tilted his head and continued. "I told you I was going out to fix the Lynel issue that Bludo asked about." Impa glared at Link."That was yesterday morning. Since then there has been no sign of you. At first I believed that maybe you took that time to go out and get rid of whatever energy you had considering how antsy you get but..." She snapped and another member of the Sheikah tribe came up, holding Link's crown on a pillow. "When it got late Sidon sent out a Rito soldier to scout the area. He returned with your crown. It was so close to the edge of the cliffs that...we all believed the worst." Oh. Link chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck."Link?!" They all turned to look at Sidon who was standing at the door at the opposite side of the room. "Link!" The Zora Prince smiled widely and began running towards his husband with open arms. Link opened up his arms and was about to prepare for the big hug coming but then he remembered. The kids. Link looked down at Derun, who was sleepily looking up at him. Sidon would crush the poor little guy if Link didn't do something. So, he panicked and activated Daruk's Protection. Sidon skidded to a halt, confused as to why Link suddenly shielded himself from Sidon's hug."Oh my Hylia is this is so cool!" Cilia jumped out from behind Link and pressed her face against the glowing red shield surrounding them all. "Look! Areli look! Nanju!! Derun!! It's Prince Sidon!! Look! Look!"Nanju and Areli, having gotten over the short moment of fear with, walked to Link's sides and stared in awe at the interior of the castle. Nanju took Derun out of the front of the sash and held him up high so he could see as well."Link," Impa blinked, "who...who's kids are these?" Link laughed nervously again."I'll explain it later. Please give me some time to rest first. Oh, and I need to head to my study right away." Link took the hands of Nanju and Cilia and began quickly walking out of the room. Areli, who had begun flying so he could see everything, quickly caught up and sat himself on Link's shoulders. The group left Sidon, Paya, and Impa with their mouths open and eyes wide, all confused at what they were seeing.As they walked through the castle's long hallways, Link answered every question asked to him. Who's painting was that? What's in that room? Why does the armor for this soldier look different than that one? Where do those stairs lead? Finally they reached the library and Link used the Sheikah Slate to remove a metal bookcase and reveal the secret study that Link had been using. The kids all gasped when they saw this and ran inside, gawking at the secret room. Link chuckled and told them to be careful before pulling out a piece of paper and a quill. He sat down and began writing furiously, explaining in great detail everything about the mysterious gold Lynel he fought yesterday.Not long after he began writing Cilia squealed and announced that Sidon was coming. Link looked up and smiled for a second before he continued his work. The four kids quickly ran up to the Zora Prince before he could even get near Link's secret study."Hi!" Cilia was practically jumping up and down from excitement. "I'm Cilia!! I'm a zora like you! That's Areli, Nanju, and the baby is Derun!" Sidon smiled and bowed."Hello all, I'm Prince Sidon." They giggled and bowed as well. "Might I ask, where did Link...find you?""He defeated a super weird gold Lynel to save us!" Cilia exclaimed. Nanju nodded and handed the silver Zora Derun, who was babbling to himself again."I have to admit, it was really cool!" Nanju backed away as she spoke. "The two hylians trying to protect us got knocked off the cliff and the Lynel was walking towards us when he froze it in time!" She stopped backing away. "Then he ran from the mountain and-!" Nanju began running straight to Areli who didn't react fast enough and was tackled to the ground. "He tackled the giant Lynel and grabbed us all and hid us before he went back and-!""And he used lightning!" Cilia cut off Nanju and jumped on one of the tables, snapping her fingers the way Link did when he summoned the power that Urbosa had granted him. "Then he froze the Lynel again and picked up its giant weapon and started hitting it then the Lynel flew off the cliff!" Cilia hopped off the table helped Areli to his feet."Y-Yeah." Areli brushed his feathers off. "Then we started walking over here. Link- oh, uh, I mean the King? He said we could stay here." Sidon nodded and looked up, seeing Link quickly walk out of his study with two envelopes in hand. He handed them both to a nearby guard. Link signed some instructions to the guard but Sidon was only about to catch Robbie and Purah's names. When that was done, the Hylian King walked to his husband and the four children he rescued."Okay," Link spoke, clapping his hands together, "I heard you guys told Sidon what happened. Great." The four of them smiled brightly. "Now I'm hungry and I'm sure you're all hungry so let's all go to the dining hall, shall we? There I'll have the chance to explain to Impa what happened yesterday and you all can introduce yourselves. After that I can take you exploring around the castle but if you want to explore Castle Town you'll have to go with Paya since I need to...decide what will happen to you guys.""Decide what will happen to us?" Nanju asked. "What does that mean?""It means...that I need to figure out how to find suitable parents for you guys. You can't spend your lives wandering the Kingdom. We all see how that turned out...""But...can't we stay here?" Cilia asked, her eyes big and sad. "I like it here! And I like being with you! You're super cool and nice." Link chuckled and patted the zora girl's head."I need to talk to Impa. Just...don't worry about any of that for now, okay? Just have fun and we'll see what the Goddess' plans are." Link smiled a bit and that seemed to ease most of their worries. Nanju and Cilia wasted no time in taking Link's hands once more and dragging him out the room. Areli was holding Derun and struggling to keep up to them.-Lunch was fun for the four kids. They ate more than they had in the time they spent traveling the kingdom. With every extravagant dish that was carried out on a silver platter their eyes widened and their jaws dropped. The scarfed down plate after plate of meat, rice, sushi, soup, and desert. The whole time they talked to the others, the children came to realize that Impa was not just some scary woman from earlier but was the nice Sheikah Elder who was technically only a year or two older than Link. Paya introduced herself to be Impa's granddaughter as well as next in line to be the Sheikah Elder. Sidon reintroduced himself and added in some small things about himself, offering to take the children out to the village so Link, Paya, and Impa could work in peace. They eagerly accepted the offer.Impa eventually asked how Link had "stumbled upon" the four of them. Cilia practically jumped up at the question. She began retelling the tale (again) of how Link had defeated the gigantic Lynel (this time she tackled Areli to the ground) and walked them all to Central Hyrule. Impa chuckled as she watched Nanju and Cilia compete to finish the story. Areli butted in a couple times, adding in smaller details that the two girls missed.When their meals were finished and the stories were done, Sidon gathered the four of them, taking Derun in his arms, and kissed Link goodbye before he took them all out on a day of fun in Castle Town."What is your plan?" Impa asked when they had all left the dining hall. "With the children, I mean." Link shrugged."I need to find homes for them. I'd like to keep them all together. It's obvious they've grown close and it would be horrible if I suddenly separated them." Impa nodded. "Do you know anyone that's looking to adopt four kids?""As a matter of fact I do. You." The Hylian King stopped walking and stared at his friend with wide eyes. Impa turned around and continued talking. "What? It's true, no? You and Prince Sidon have been looking for ways to have children. So far nothing has come up. Now you have an opportunity! Don't tell me you're going to let this go to waste." Link sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know..." "You five have only known each other for a day, and even with that you all seem close. The children trust you completely and are very comfortable around. So much that they hang onto you every second they can. Most children in Hyrule would be too scared to even touch the King." Link but his lower lip, still looking unsure. "Talk it over with Prince Sidon. Look for suitable guardians. Spend more time with them. Just don't completely dismiss the idea." Impa turned back around and began walking away. "And please don't go tackling anymore seemingly indestructible Lynels. I understand that you sometimes can't control your impulsive behavior especially in times of crisis but your children would be devastated if they learned that their father skidded off a cliff with a Lynel because he made a poor decision."-A little over a month had passed since Link had first brought Areli, Cilia, Derun, and Nanju to the castle. The search for proper parents willing to adopt all four of them had been unsuccessful so far, however, the kids didn't mind. All the while they were there they had become closer to both Link and Sidon. The six of them spent as much time together as possible, Link and Sidon taking them out at least once a week to nearby villages or stables so the children could go out and explore. Link even taught the four of them how to properly wield a sword (much to Sidon's dismay). The Hylian Champion even told the four of them of his "extensive past" letting them know that whenever the darkness reared its ugly head, Link would be re-born and battle it. He joked saying that his legendary horse that he had just resurrected from the grave held the part of the spirit of the Hylian Hero, which is why Epona would always answer Link's call no matter how far away.Impa hadn't mentioned anything about adoption to Link yet, she knew that if she brought the subject up Link would immediately shoot it down. He would claim he was unfit to be a parent and the children deserved so much better than a reckless Hylian fighting machine that could barely manage to think before he acts. The Sheikah Elder observed the Hylian King as he played with his four children, seeing how bright his face got when the four kids ran to hug him after a long day of doing nothing but attending to his royal responsibilities, seeing all the stress of the day melt away from his body as the four of them told them about their day exploring the castle or hanging out with one of the many friends they had made in the castle.As even more time passed, Link and Sidon had grown more and more attached to the four children they had taken in. The search for parents was still unsuccessful but at this point, none of them cared anymore. Areli, Cilia, Derun, and Nanju already felt like they were part of a family, the best family in Hyrule, and they didn't want this happy feeling of completion to end because some one had volunteered to take in the poor orphan children. When they were alone during the day, the four of them got together in their room and came up with several extravagant plans to hint that they wanted to be an official family. Every single plan was shot down for one reason or another. Eventually they gave up and decided to live in this happy moment for as long as they could.Meanwhile, the conversation he had with Impa oh so long ago never left Link's head. Father, father, father. The word kept bouncing around in Link's mind. As expected he believed the children deserved someone better. Sure Link was the King of all the land but that didn't mean he was an adult who was responsible and knew what he was doing. So, he tended to ignore all thoughts of sealing the deal and officially claiming those kids as his own. That mindset changed, however, one calm night. They were all sitting around on the floor in Link and Sidon's room, casually chatting about that day's events when Derun stood up and took his very steps. He stumbled a bit, but the Goron baby did walk, and he walked right into Link's arms. It was in that moment that the Hylian King knew he didn't want to miss a second more of these kid's lives. He didn't want to miss precious moments like these where something as big as Derun's first steps or small as a fun family dinner. That same night, when the kids had fallen fast asleep in Link and Sidon's shared bed and the couple in question were out on their balcony, staring out into the night sky, Link took in a deep breath and tapped Sidon's shoulder. With his husband's attention all on him, Link began signing and explaining that he wished to adopt the children. When all was said and done, Sidon had tears in his eyes and a gigantic smile on his face. He stated that he had wanted to mention adoption for a while but he waited since he knew that Link had to sort his own feelings out first. Their night ended with happy tears and hugs all around before they went back into their room, kissed the heads of their four sleeping kids, and went to sleep themselves.- News had spread across Hyrule fairly quickly that the King of Hyrule and his husband the Prince of the Zora were adopting four kids. Gifts were being sent from all corners of Hyrule as a congratulations, ranging from clothes to toys to weapons. Everywhere Areli, Cilia, Derun, and Nanju went there were people bowing and referring to them as the future princes and princesses of Hyrule, this gave the four of them a special sort of feeling. Smiles hardy ever left their faces nowadays. For them, it was hard to believe that almost two months ago they were nearly freezing to death and scavenging for food out in the wild with their two hylian guardians. The idea of being part of a family, especially the royal family, was just a fantasy. But now they were wearing luxurious clothes and being visited by the royals from other areas in Hyrule. Things were truly working out for the better for them.Preparations were being made for a coronation. Impa said such a grand event wasn't necessary but Link insisted, he wanted his children to really feel like they were in a family and an official ceremony would certainly help. Of course this coronation wouldn't be rushed like Link's, this one was being well thought out and would include all of the different cultures of the Rito, Zora, Goron, and Gerudo. It was going to be perfect and Link made sure of it.But that wasn't the entire reason why the coronation was being held off. After the announcement had been made and the entire kingdom was aware of two new princes and princesses something continued to bug him. It didn't leave him in the month that followed the announcement, it didn't leave him when he went to bed, it didn't leave him when he went down into the very depths of the castle to pray to his ancestors, it didn't leave him when he was spending time with his family. Every second of every day it gnawed at the back of his mind. "You didn't forget about me, did you?" Maybe it was just his paranoia. Maybe it was just the fact that he still wasn't over her death. Maybe it was the conversation he overheard the other day between two members of the Royal Guard who were expressing their concerns over having four new heirs but not the true heir. Not the princess with the blood of the Goddess Hylia. Not Zelda.He visited her grave more and more often, wondering what he should do about his current situation. On especially quiet days, days where he had somehow managed to take care of nearly all his royal tasks, he sat back and talked with the five graves in front of him. He knew it was foolish but he believed that perhaps the spirits of the champions or even Zelda were still hanging around. Maybe they were listening to him, comforting him with their invisible presence."What's troubling you, my pearl?" Sidon asked one night as he and Link were staring out at the beautiful night sky. "I've noticed...you seem off. Something's bugging you so you might as well say it." Link sighed and helplessly waved his hands around. "Is your work piling up? I know I haven't been much help with running the Kingdom but my own duties have been more difficult to manage since I decided to spend more time here than the Zora Domain...""No, no." Link signed before resting a hand on Sidon's shoulder (or rather trying to then giving up and settling for his upper arm). "It isn't that. The workload is fine. And you do more than enough, I'm grateful and amazed that you can juggle spending so much time with the kids, the coronation plans, and your own work.""Then what?" Sidon pulled Link into his arms and hugged him tightly. "Confide in me, please. I don't like to see you so distressed." For a moment, Link just held onto Sidon. It had been a while since he last shared a moment alone with his husband. He liked this, being in the safety and comfort of Sidon's arms. Sidon was the one who broke the hug. He slowly dropped his arms from around Link and instead moved a single hand to cup his husband's cheek. The moment Link saw that the Zora Prince was slowly leaning down, he wasted no time in standing up on the tips of his toes and closing the gap between them. Their kiss was slow, sweet, and reassuring. Sidon felt Link's mouth turn up into a smile. When they broke apart, Link sighed happily."Zelda." That was the only word that left Link's mouth. Sidon blinked."What of her?" "She's...not here." Link looked up at the moon. "The Princess with the blood of the Goddess Hylia isn't here. The true savior of Hyrule- the one who seals away the evil that threatens our kingdom- isn't here. And people are talking." His hands tightened into fists and his expression turned a bit sour. "She isn't here, the "true heir" to the throne isn't here. People are complaining and saying that...that I shouldn't be worried about our kids...I should be worried about figuring out a way to get the royal lineage back on track... And I don't know what to do." Link let out a shaky breath, his fists tightening even more. "I don't know what to do! I...I don't want...Areli or Celia or Derun or Nanju to be upset because part of the kingdom doesn't care for them at the moment. I don't want them to feel any sort of pain because everyone wants to find a true heir before they even put the four of them in their minds."Sidon was silent. To be quite honest he had encountered those rumors as well. They upset him- those were his kids after all!- but even he didn't know how to handle this. He wanted to confront those who were talking and complaining. He wanted to tell them off, to yell, to kick them out of his home, but he knew they were right. Hyrule needed a Zelda to survive. Hyrule could not survive without a hylian princess that carried that ancient sealing power in her blood. "Why don't you talk to the Goddesses?" A tiny voice came from across the room. It had come from Cilia who was standing near the door with her three siblings. "Yeah," Areli agreed, stretching his wings, "you've told us before that when you were trying to figure out your life duty after saving all of Hyrule's butts you talked to the Goddesses. Why not do that now?" "It would be the smart thing to do." Nanju chimed in as she walked into the room, Derun walking besides her and holding her hand tightly. "The Goddesses know what to do. They'll help you. They'll know what to do about...the next ruler of Hyrule." Link's heart nearly broke."We're sorry you had to see us in such a sorry state, children." Sidon whispered, going over to the bed and sitting down. The kids followed his lead and half-jumped half-climbed into the bed. "We're simply having a hard time right now. It's rather difficult for your father to make decisions based on his feelings, all of our feelings, and all of the kingdom's feelings." Link grunted and ran a hand through his hair."We know what the kingdom thinks of us." The words were spat out of Areli's mouth with such disgust. "But we don't care." Nanju smiled softly and placed a hand on her brother's feathery shoulder. "It may sting a bit when we hear people say...you two shouldn't show us as much kindness as you but-""-But that doesn't matter, and it never will!" Cilia chirped, sliding off the bed and running over to Link who was still pouting on the balcony. She hugged him tightly, continuing, "We don't care what the kingdom thinks of us. We don't care if one of us or none of us ends up inheriting the position as leader. All we care about is each other and you guys- our family!" For a moment, all Link could do was stare. Stare down at this silver scaled zora child that was hugging his waist tightly and with all the love in the world. A second later and more arms wrapped around him. Nanju and Areli had gone over to hug their father as well. Derun, who didn't quite understand what was going on but wanted to be a part of this too, grabbed onto the front of Link's shirt and attempted to pull him closer.Tears streamed down the Hylian's cheeks, a small smile appearing on his face. He knelt down and wrapped all four of his children in his arms. Without missing a single beat, Sidon jumped off his spot from the bed and scooped his husband and his four kids into his own arms, holding them in a tight and loving embrace.-Normally Link would say no if someone asked to accompany him to the Spring of Courage. Yes, the spring was technically free to the public, but if he was going there to attempt to talk to the Goddess then he wanted to be totally alone. This time, however, when Sidon, Areli, Cilia, Derun, and Nanju all put on their best puppy faces and politely asked Link to join him on his journey to the Spring of Courage, he couldn't resist. And again, normally Link would be content with going places with little to no protection. He was a skilled swordsman! He could defend himself and defeat any foe with a stick and a rock if he had to! But this time he tasked approximately fifteen members of the Royal Guard and five members of the Sheikah's most elite warriors to protect him and his family. The trip was three days long. In the time spent in the Royal Carriage (which had been modified to be able to fit Sidon's great height) the four princes and princess to be demanded that Link share his stories of the Divine Beasts and Champions. When all his stories of his great adventure against the Calamity had been exhausted, the children demanded that Link tell them tales of his travels throughout Hyrule and the time spent preparing to be King. When that story was exhausted, Link went on to tell them the legends of the past heroes of Hyrule. Cilia's favorite hero was the Hero of the Wind, Areli's was the Hero of the Sky, and Nanju's was the Hero of Time ("My favorite hero is the one sitting next to me." Sidon said matter-of-factly with a sly smile. Link scoffed and rolled his eyes, a slight blush appearing on his cheeks. The Zora Prince hadn't lost his charm yet.).When they reached a point where the Royal Carriage's wheels could no longer ride smoothly over the dirt, they all clambered out and resumed their journey on foot. Eventually the forest became thicker and the path was narrower. Roots were sticking out everywhere. The kids got tired of walking after only an hour of walking. Areli had perched himself on top of Sidon's head (Sidon claimed his scales were as thick as iron and he couldn't even feel his son's talons on his tail), Derun was snuggling into Sidon's arms. Link carried Cilia on his shoulders. He offered to carry Nanju in his arms the way he did when they were first making their way to Hyrule Castle, Nanju politely declined.Finally, finally, they reached the Spring. The Royal Guards and Sheikah put themselves into position as the group entered the Spring. Link explained that they should all stay back while he does what he needs to do, then when he was finished they could explore the area and pray to their heart's content. The five of them obediently stood back as Link walked into the water (Thank Hylia he was smart enough to wear his normal travelers clothes as opposed to his royal garb).The Hylian Champion took a deep breath in and closed his eyes. Usually at this time he would press the Master Sword to his forehead and begin praying, but now he wasn't quite sure what to do. He thought for a second and pulled out the sword Sidon had gifted him. Pressing that against his forehead, he began his prayers. "O Golden Goddess Farore, Goddess of Courage. I come before you in need of guidance. " Silence. "I come...asking about the next Hylian Princess and future savior of Hyrule." "Hylian Champion, Hylian King, Current carrier of the Triforce. I am listening." The wind picked up."Goddess Farore." Link let out a shaky breath. "My people and I worry about Hyrule's future. Hyrule needs a Zelda, a princess who carries the blood of the goddess Hylia. Without her our kingdom will have no defense against the evil that is Ganon if and when he rises again." "I hear your worries as well as the ones of my people. Fret not." The wind was blowing loudly. Link could hear Sidon tell the kids to back away from the water. "My sisters and I shall aid you. My sisters and I will give you the final color which you will use to create the painting that is your life." The air began feeling different. Link couldn't quite put his finger on it. "Open your eyes." Link did as told.The Goddess statue in front of him was glowing brightly. Golden light brighter than the sun emerged from the ancient monument. The light slowly dipped itself into the water and laily made its way to Link. The water underneath him glowed brightly."Hylian Hero. Look up." Link blinked and turned around to look up at the sky. Farosh was flying down towards Link at a speed that matched the Scourge of Vah Naboris. Before he knew it, Link was being grabbed by the electric dragon's gigantic claws and pushed down into the water that seemed a lot deeper than before. The last thing Link had heard was the collective screams of his children and Sidon yelling out his name.- His eyes opened and he was standing up right in a place unfamiliar to him. Link began walking slowly, taking in every single detail. This village seemed small, and it seemed to be floating in the air. The buildings were beautiful and whimsical. This place felt cheery and gave Link a warm feeling, as if he were home. Skyloft. The name rang in his head. At the moment he couldn't remember the significance but later on, when he returned to his own realm and to his castle, he would realize it was the home of the very first reincarnation of the Hero. The home of the Hero of the Sky.Yes, this was Skyloft. Link smiled, letting all those happy feelings flood his mind. This was home. He continued to walk, much more relaxed now. Although the buildings were all empty and there seemed to be no signs of life, Link continued walking in and out of them. He explored every nook and cranny, smiling nostalgically. When he reached the Knight's Academy his legs instinctively walked to his own room. Link had to resist the urge to flop down on the neatly made bed and take a nice nap.The names on the doors were all written in a language far older than the current Hylian alphabet. The letters, however, jumbled around in his mind and he was able to decipher them. The first room he came across was Groose. Link opened up the door and looked at the inside. The feeling of uneasiness returned, he felt as if he was trespassing in enemy territory. His eyes happened upon a punching bag with his face on it. Link smiled."That's right. Groose was my friend." Link closed the door. Zelda's room was next. He opened the door and looked inside. He felt as if he had just been hugged warmly. The room was nice and inviting. Detailed drawings of several plants and people were hung up on the wall. Several dolls of winged creatures adorned her bed.His little tour through the Knight's Academy ended. When he walked out he caught sight of the gigantic Goddess Statue. Link quickly made his way to the statue. The base had a part where it was open, it looked like stairs lead down farther. "That's where I met Fi." The spirit in the Master Sword. Link smiled. He began walking towards the opening when something called out to him. A Loftwing landed besides him and chirped happily. It's bright red feathers shone brilliantly in the sunlight. The Loftwing butted its head against Link's hand, Link instinctively began stroking its feathers. The Surface. The crimson Loftwing had lifted its head and was staring Link straight in the eyes. Link nodded and wasted no time in climbing onto the majestic creature and taking flight. He didn't know, or more he didn't remember, how he knew how to fly such a creature but this felt as natural to Link as holding a sword felt. The Loftwing chirped out happily every once in a while as it soared through the sky and towards a particular beam of light. When they were close enough, they dove down a small hole in the mass of clouds where the light was. Link had closed his eyes for a moment, when he reopened them his breath was taken away. The Surface, Hyrule before it was Hyrule, was beautiful. The mass of trees, water, lava, sand, everything. It was absolutely amazing.The Loftwing landed at an ancient temple. The same Goddess Statue he had seen up at Skyloft was here as well. Link jumped off and gave the crimson Loftwing a nice pat before he made his way to the two gigantic doors. "This is the Sealed Temple." Link thought before he pushed the doors open.Three people were waiting for him. The three of them turned around to face Link."Welcome, hero." The first that spoke was him. No, not him. The eyes were bigger, skin was lighter. His hair seemed fluffier and an even dirtier blond. Link recognized him as the Hero of the Sky."We have been patiently awaiting your arrival." The second to speak was a girl. She looked like Zelda but entirely different. The face was rounder, she had bangs that nearly covered her eyes. She seemed smaller too. "And now we can discuss the answer to your pleas." The last one to speak was, admittedly, frightening. He was gigantic, five times taller than the other two. His skin was a deep coal color with scales to match. His hair seemed to be flames, his small eyes were the same color as his hair and full of anger and malice. One disgusting scar adorned his face."We have taken form of three familiar figures." The Hero of the Sky spoke. "As we cannot fully reveal our true forms to mortals." The bowed. "I am Farore. Goddess of Courage. That is Nayru," Zelda bowed, "Goddess of Wisdom. And Din," the beast-man bowed as well, "Goddess of Power." "We've taken these forms as a thank you." Nayru stepped forward. "To show our gratitude towards you for continuing to stop the ancient evil that torments our land. For living with the fate we have...cursed you with.""As you can tell," Din stepped forward, " Farore is you. The first time your spirit returned to life after defending the Goddess Hylia and laying down your life for the land you loved. Nayru is the Goddess Hylia reborn. Her name was Zelda. Together, you and she founded Hyrule after defeating the evil that would torment you forever. I have taken the form of that evil: Demise. Demise demanded power, power to surpass the Goddesses. Demise demanded destruction. Demise demanded chaos. Upon full defeating him, his anger was so powerful that it took a form of its own and lived on to carry the destruction that Demise wanted. Ganon, or Ganondorf, is that anger. That pure hatred and evil.""Since we were the ones that forced this life on you, we have tried our best to make sure you are rewarded properly." Farore smiled, which Link found weird since it was his own face smiling at him. "We regret not doing so for the past hero, the Hero of Time. He didn't deserve such...confusing and traumatic fates. However, here stands the hero reborn. And this time we have promised ourselves to not fail you when time is playing with your life.""We understand that our plan for you was confusing." Nayru spoke. "And we thank you for following our guidance all the way through. And we hope you finally find peace and happiness with the family we have gifted you with. Those four children are all very special, Chosen Hero.""Now, for the matter we are here to discuss. The Princess with the blood of the Goddess Hylia." Link nodded. "Currently you hold the Triforce. Courage has dwelled within you since birth. Wisdom dwelled in Zelda since birth. Power has been Ganon's all along. When Zelda was trapped inside of the Calamity and using her holy powers to keep Ganon at bay, she absorbed his piece so she held Power as well as Wisdom. When Zelda perished and you became the ruler of Hyrule we gifted those two shards to you."Link's right hand began glowing brightly. The Triforce had shown itself on his hand. "Today we shall take the Triforce away from you and you will be able to wish for one thing." Nayru held up a single finger as she explained. "When the wish has been asked then the Triforce will reset. In time, Power will return to Ganon. Courage stays with you. Wisdom will go to the next Princess. Understood?" Link nodded. "Wonderful. Then, without further ado."The Three Golden Goddesses in front of him clasped their hands together and closed their eyes, bowing their heads. They each began glowing their respective colors. A golden light emerged from Link's chest. Suddenly he felt the energy draining from him. His knees buckled and he dropped down to the floor. He struggled to stand back up but the most he could do was kneel. An indescribable pain suddenly burst in his chest as three orbs began slowly floating out. The orbs (one red, one blue, one green), came together and morphed into triangles. When the triangles touched they grew bigger and bigger before changing color. The Triforce floated magnificently in front of Link. His eyes widened. "Place your hand upon the Triforce and make your wish." All three of the voices were coming together into one. Link scrambled to his feet and hesitantly placed a hand on the legendary Triforce, closing his eyes.- It was night now and Link was gazing out at Hyrule from his balcony, like he usually did. Sidon had told him that after the ancient dragon had taken him under the still weirdly deep spring water, no one found him until an hour later. Link had mysteriously appeared lying flat on his back at the foot of the Goddess Statue. When questioned about where he had gone to and how he got to the statue, Link shrugged and claimed it was all the Goddess's doing.Now here he was, back in the comfort of his castle. A journey back that would've taken them days took minutes because Sidon was stubborn and demanded that Link use the Sheikah Slate to get them all home faster. Link reluctantly did as told and practically jumped for joy when he realized he could take larger numbers of people to and from shrines without worrying about anyone getting "lost". Sidon was helping the kids get ready for bed. Link could hear them all chattering about what they wanted to do tomorrow though he wasn't paying attention. His mind was still on the conversation he had with the Goddesses and how lucky he was to have visited the ancient city of Skyloft as well as get to see Hyrule in its "early years". "What're you thinkin' about?" Areli asked, walking to Link, his sisters, brother, and Sidon close behind. "Nothing important." Link shrugged, ruffling the feathers on top of his son's head. Suddenly, Link tensed up. His ears twitched, his face showing complete focus. His family was asking him what was wrong but he didn't answer. In the blink of an eye, Link jumped onto the wall and climbed above their room. Sidon scolded his husband and demanded that he got down immediately. Link didn't listen. In the distance he could see something faint. It looked like a star at first but it was getting closer. "There!" Link pointed up to the sky at the golden light flying through. The others stared in shock and awe. It crash landed in the middle of Hyrule field and before anyone could say anything, Link was already jumping off the wall and onto the roof of the Castle. He ran along the Castle's roof and jumped down again, this time he began peacefully gliding towards Castle Town. He put the paraglider away and landed on the ground. He wasted no time in whistling a call for the horse of legend as he ran towards the gates of Castle Town. Since he was in a hurry and the gates were closed, Link took the extreme route and climbed over the walls the enclosed Castle Town. When he landed on the other side of the wall his horse was already running towards him at full speed, her white mane glowing in the moon light.On his horse he went at top speed towards the brightly glowing thing that had crashed onto Hyrule Field. When they reached the mysterious light, Link jumped off Epona and slid towards it.It looked like a giant sphere made purely of gold light. Link hesitated in getting anywhere closer to it. In the distance he could hear several shouts. He heard Sidon call out for him as well as his kids and some unidentifiable ones. He figured those were probably soldiers. Link waited for them to catch up.Sidon had ran all the way from the castle to the center of Hyrule Field with all four of his ready-for-bed children in his arms. Adrenaline was a hell of a thing! He skidded to a stop besides his husband, ready to scold him for running off without a word, but before he could say a word he stopped. His eyes landed on the thing in front of them."What is it?" Nanju asked, looking at her dads. Neither spoke. Link let out a shaky breath and took a small step forward. He knelt down placed his hand on odd sphere. His right hand began glowing, the Triforce appeared but now only the piece that symbolized courage glowed brightly. The light from the sphere intensified before fading away completely. Inside, was an infant with beautiful brown hair and vibrant green eyes with a smile as warm as the Sun's. Her left hand had the Triforce on it but only the piece that symbolized Wisdom was glowing. She smiled as Link picked her up gently. Tears began prickling his eyes.Here she was. The heiress to the throne. The Princess and savior of Hyrule. The Princess with the blood of the Goddess Hylia. Here was Zelda.
10695546	Happy Ending	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Dan Howell, Phil Lester", "Fandom": "Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by winstonlives", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-22T00:00:00", "words": "3,497", "Additional Tags": "Friendship/Love, Massage, Best Friends, Fluff and Humor, Shameless Smut, Hurt Dan Howell, Helpful Phil", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Dan Howell/Phil Lester, Dan Howell & Phil Lester", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Dan decided it would be a good time to clean his room. Phil was out getting groceries so he didn’t really want to watch anything. He was almost done, and began pulling the random stuff the happened to find their way under his bed. One more random sock to go and he’d be done. Unfortunately it happened to be in the hardest to reach place, so he partially crawled under and reached forward when his back seized up and his breath caught. “Holy fuck…” he tried to move but pain radiated down all his limbs. He struggled a little bit but knew it was futile because there was no way he could knowingly cause so much pain, his muscles tightening every time he moved. His eyes were watering by the time he gave up. There he lay half under the bed, for another twenty minutes before he heard the front door close and footfalls on the stairs. “Phil!” He called from his dusty prison.He could see Phil’s shoes stop in his doorway. “Dan?” “Phil, help me, jesus christ I have been stuck under here for forever!” “What happened?” “I was cleaning, and I pulled the muscles in my back! I’m fucking stuck under here.” Phil laughed, then a few moments later was on the ground looking at Dan across from him. “What do you want me to do?” “I don’t fucking know.” Dan huffed. “Try pulling me by the legs I guess.” “Okay, hang on.” Phil wiggled a little, then a bright light flashed. “Did you seriously just take a picture of me?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Phil chuckled, getting up and walking to the other side of the bed. He bent down, took Dan’s feet in his hands and pulled slowly. “Owwww fuck fuck fuck!” Dan yelled, causing Phil to immediately drop his feet. “I don’t know what to do!” He went to the other side of the bed again and got on the floor to talk to Dan. “What do you want me to do? Do I need to call an ambulance?”“No. Don’t be stupid. I think if you just pull really quick, don’t go slow. Like pulling off a plaster.”“Okay...you sure?”“No, but what other options do we have?” Dan said. Phil got up and went back to grab Dan’s feet. “Ready?” “No.” Dan said “Hang on.” He took a couple deep breaths, “Okay, count to 3, then pull.” “Okay, 1...2...3” Phil pulled as hard as he could, and Dan pushed with his arms swearing as he did so. Phil fell back with the movement and hit the ground, but Dan was out from under the bed. “You okay?” Phil panted, as he sat up.Dan’s eyes were watering from the pain, “Fuck...that hurt.” He tried to roll over but let out a yell. “Oww shit!” “Okay I am going to go get you some ice. Stay there. Then I am going to call my mum and see what she says we should do.” Phil said standing up. Dan groaned from the ground in agreement. _____“Do you think you can get up yet?” Phil asked walking back into Dan’s room an hour later.“No.” Dan whined, “I think I’ll die here Phil. I want you to delete the history off every computer or laptop I’ve ever owned when I go.” Phil chuckled, and sat next to Dan on the floor. “I don’t know about you but I am ready for dinner.” “I have to pee.” Dan whined, dropping his forehead to the carpet. “Well I guess I’ll have to help you up.” Phil said reached out towards Dan. “No! Don’t touch me!” Dan said, and went to pull away before yelping and slamming his eyes shut. “Fuck me Phil...this bloody hurts.” “Okay, so you eat here, and pee your pants I guess.” Phil shrugged and stood acting like he was going to leave the room. “Can’t you find me something to...you know like a bottle or something?” “You want me to find you a bottle to piss in?” “Well...yeah, kind of. I really can not get up yet...and I have to pee.” “Good lord. We have really crossed the closeness line haven’t we?” Phil sighed as he left the room. He returned a few minutes later with an empty milk jug. “Here...I can’t believe I am helping you do this?” “Thanks.” Dan said moving slowly to take the jug. “Ummm...let’s see do you think you could roll me onto my side?” Phil rolled his eyes, but did as he was asked, “I hope you don’t need me to hold it for you too. There is only so much closeness I can take in one day.” “Shut up, and go away.” Dan said. Phil walked out of the room, and closed the door. Dan struggled with his mission to relieve himself and not get it everywhere, but in the end he was mostly successful. Mostly… Phil knocked on the door ten minutes later. “So?” He asked as he pushed open the door. “How did it go?” “Fine, Phil.” Dan said, and tipped his head towards the bottle. “Great. Now we have a bottle of Dan pee…” Phil eyeballed the jug for a second before looking back at Dan. “Can we eat now? I ordered burritos. Thought you could eat that one handed, and be easier to eat laying on your stomach.” “Not really hungry. It hurts too much.” “Are you sure we shouldn’t go to A&E? Seriously you giving up food and having to pee in a bottle makes it seem pretty bad.” “If it’s still like this tomorrow I’ll think about it.” “Fine…” Phil huffed before standing up. “I’m going to get you another hot pack. It’s been long enough with cold, time to move to warm.” “Good I’m frozen from the ice.” Dan said resting his head on the ground again. “Do you want me to cover you up?” “Could you?” Dan asked, before Phil pulled down his duvet and covered him with it.______“Time for cold again.” Phil said coming back in the room after eating his dinner in the lounge, while Dan lay on his floor. “I was just starting to warm up.” Dan whined. “Too bad. Mum said to alternate heat and cold every twenty to thirty minutes. Is it feeling any better?”“A little.” Dan sucked in a breath as Phil placed the ice pack on his back. “Is there anything else she said would help?”“Yeah.” “Well what is it? I’m desperate.”“A massage.” “Oh.” Dan said, “I guess we’ll have to stick with hot and cold packs then.” “I mean…” Phil cleared his throat, “I could rub your back if you wanted me to.” “It’s okay. You don’t have to Phil. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” “If it will make you feel better I will. Nothing can make me more uncomfortable than having to dump out your pee from earlier.” Dan laughed, “Sorry.” “It’s fine. What are best friends for if not to pour your pee out of a milk jug every once and awhile.” “Oh god, can we not ever talk about it again.” Dan laughed. “Gladly. Let me get some lotion or something and I’ll rub your back.” Phil rose and walked out of the room. He returned a few minutes later with a bottle of massage oil. “Where the hell did you get that?” “I remembered we had some in the bathroom. Someone gave it to us as a housewarming present remember?” “Oh yeah.” Dan chuckled. “Jackass.” “Bet he didn’t think we’d use it on each other.” Phil said sitting next to Dan again. “I think that is exactly what he thought.” “Oh.” Phil coughed, “Okay, well I guess you need to take off your shirt.” Dan struggled a few minutes before Phil had to help him take it off. Slowly they got the shirt off, with a few whines and gasps from Dan. “You ready?” “Uh-huh.” Dan sighed, his forehead pressed to the floor again. A few moments later he felt the heat of Phil’s hands on his back. Phil rubbed at the muscles, his slippery hands moving smoothly over his skin. Dan began to relax into his touch, and a moan escaped his lips. “Feel good?” Phil asked, as he continued to rub the oil into Dan’s skin. “Yeah…” Dan sighed. “You’re good at this.” Phil’s hands moved lower down his back, and his thumbs moved momentarily under the waistband of Dan’s pants. He did that a few more times, each time his thumbs seemed to dip lower and lower. Dan moaned again, surprising himself. “Where does it hurt the most?” Phil asked quietly, as he did so, he moved to straddle Dan’s thighs. “This okay? I can get a better angle this way.” “Uh-huh.” Dan sighed into the floor. “My lower back is the worst bit.” “Okay.” Phil said and skimmed his hands down either side of Dan’s back starting at his shoulders all the way to Dan’s waist band. Then he placed his hands open on either side of Dan’s spine at it’s base and pressed his thumbs into the muscles there. “You have huge knots here, this might hurt.” He pushed harder moving his thumbs in small circles over the tensed muscles until he felt them relax. All the while Dan was unable to stifle the small moans and whines the bubbled out of him. “Fuck Phil that feels good.” Dan breathed. “Good.” Phil hummed a little, moving his thumbs lower still. “You’re so tight, Dan…” He said, his voice low.“Mmmm” Dan hummed. Phil moved his hands slowly back up to his shoulders, before sweeping them down again with enough pressure to feel where Dan’s muscles were bunched under the skin. He went back to one spot and worked it out with his thumbs, then moved to another. “Feels so good Phil, harder….yeah like that.” Dan breathed when Phil found a particularly tight spot. Phil paused to sprinkle more oil onto Dan’s back, “You mind if I pull these down a little? The oil will stain I think.” He said hooking his fingers under the waistband of Dan’s athletic shorts. “S’fine” Dan nodded slightly. Phil pulled gently, he stopped when the top of Dan’s crease peeked out. He smoothed the newly applied oil over the expanse of Dan’s back, making sure to moisten the newly exposed skin. Dan moaned quietly as Phil’s hands moved. Once again Phil pressed his thumbs into the muscles on Dan’s lower back, this time moving lower still since the material was no longer in his way. He continued farther down until once again his thumbs dipped below the waistband. He pressed into the muscles there, causing Dan to almost push back as he moaned again. “Fuck that feels good…” Phil moved over the same area again and again, each time going lower and lower. Finally he pulled the material lower still, before dripping more oil over the skin. Dan’s breathing was starting to come in shallow gasps, “My whole body is tingling Phil, feels so good.” “Want you to feel good…” Phil whispered, his breathing matching that of Dan’s. He pulled at the fabric again, this time, exposing Dan’s entire backside. He smoothed his hands over the mounds, the oil making the skin glisten. He pressed into the muscles, then squeezed and pulled. Dan panting, pushed back a little in response. Phil tentatively dipped his finger tips a little into the warm crease before moving his hands all the way up Dan’s back again. Leaning forward like that, forced his groin to press in to Dan for a moment. Long enough for Dan to feel Phil’s rock hard cock staining against his own shorts. “Fuck Phil…” Dan said, “Will you…” Phil’s hands stilled on his back, “What Dan? What do you need? Did I hurt you?” “No, feels amazing…” Dan shook his head. “Will you…Sorry…nevermind.” Dan panted. He slowly rocked his hips into the floor. He was hard, he tried to remember if he was hard before or after he realized Phil was. He wasn’t sure. He did know he wanted more...wanted Phil to touch him more. “How does your back feel?” Phil said, his hands still moving over Dan’s oiled skin. “Mmm better than it was, but still tight lower down.” Phil’s hands moved to massage the area, once again moving to press momentarily into the crease of Dan’s ass as he did so. Dan pressed back, into the pressure. He could hear Phil breathing heavy behind him. Once again Phil skimmed his hands up to his shoulders, this time Dan pressed back a little, so that Phil’s hard on was squeezed between them. Dan moaned at the sensation, and Phil caught his breath at the same time losing some control and bucked slightly at the sensation. “Phil….” “What...what do you want Dan...tell me.” Phil panted almost in his ear, as he was still leaned forward to rub his shoulders. His one hand snuck up the back of Dan’s neck and into his hair, while the other moved down his side, and stopped at Dan’s hip. “You should...umm take off your shirt…or you might stain it…” Dan panted, too scared to admit to what he really wanted. Phil sat back and pulled his shirt over his head quickly before leaning forward again, running his hands over the skin of Dan’s back as he did so. He massaged circles into the muscles in his shoulders before he leaned so far forward that his chest pressed against Dan. He moved his hands down Dan’s sides letting them come to rest on his hips as he pressed his skin to Dan’s back. Both of them moaning at the sensation of so much skin touching, the combined body heat sending them almost over the edge. Phil pressed his hips into Dan, at the same time his mouth found the side of his neck. “Fuck Phil...want you...fuck...so hard…” Dan panted, unable to form sentences by this point in time. “Your back…?” Phil said, pulling off of Dan. “Feels good Phil...please, touch me. Want you to fuck me, please” Dan said, practically begging. “I can feel you want it too.”“You sure?” Phil asked, as he ran his hands over Dan’s back, “It’s been a long time…” “I know...I’m sure…want you…always want you…” “Want you too...never stopped wanting you….”Phil whispered into his ear, as he pushed down his own shorts and boxers. His cock free, was now able to slide smoothly between Dan’s oiled cheeks. “Feels so good.” He panted, bucking his hips slowly. “Condom?” “No, s’fine Phil, haven’t needed one since you…” Dan said turning enough to look back at him. “Haven’t wanted to since you.” “Me either.” Phil smiled, then leaned down and took Dan’s mouth with his. “You sure you want this now?” “I’m so hard for you, I want to feel you in me.” “Fuck…” Phil breathed, his hips moving to slide his dick through Dan’s crease again. “Feel so good against me.” He pulled back and pulled off the rest of their clothes. He looked down at Dan, his eyes skimming over the smooth skin, then reached out to run his hand over it. “You’re still gorgeous.” He slipped his fingers between Dan’s cheeks, to stroke over the tight ring of muscle there. As he did do he leaned over to kiss Dan again. They moaned into each other’s mouths as he slipped the tip of one finger in. “So tight.” He said, then pressed kisses down Dan’s back until he came to his entrance, then placed a kiss there. “Please Phil...fuck me...don’t make me wait anymore.” Dan begged, as he perked his ass up, presenting it to Phil. Phil bit a cheek lightly before sitting up on his knees, he fingered Dan in order to loosen him up. Dan pressed back wanting more. “Look so good like this Dan. Can’t wait to fuck you…” he said, as he pushed in a third finger. He curled them, making Dan cry out in pleasure. “Still know how to make you feel good.” He smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to Dan’s back before he lined up. Slowly he pressed in, pausing as soon as his head breached Dan’s tight heat. He willed himself to go slow, when all he wanted to do was slam in. After a few moments he pressed farther in, moving slowly, as Dan clenched around him. Dan moaned biting his knuckles because of the stretch. “Remember, push out a little, hurts less.” He felt Dan do as he was told, and sighed as he bottomed out. Dan’s muscles squeezing around him, the tight heat that he hadn’t felt in years almost making him want to cry. “Feel so good, doing great, baby.” Dan moaned at the term of endearment he hadn’t heard in so long, “Fuck me Phil, want you to make me cum” Phil began to move his hips slowly at first, but began to pick up the pace a little as Dan’s moans grew into pleading. Phil ran his hands over Dan’s skin, massaging the muscles that rippled in his back as he moved. Eventually he stopped and held on to Dan’s hips as he began to pound into him harder. “Getting close Phil...feels so good inside me...fuck…” Dan moaned, pushing back into Phil’s thrusts, taking him in as deep as he could. Phil reached around and began stroking Dan’s cock in time with his thrusts, “Want you to cum for me baby.” He whispered in his ear, before kissing the sensitive skin on his neck. “I’m so close...just like that…” Dan panted before cuming over Phil’s hand and spurting on the floor. His muscles pulling Phil’s orgasm from him in a hot white blaze as he shot deep inside Dan. He kissed Dan’s shoulder before they both collapsed, panting and tangled together on the floor. Once they had calmed down, and their breathing returned to normal, Phil cleared his throat. “So...that happened.” “It did.” Dan said, looking up at him trying to read his expression. “Was good.” “Uh-huh.” “What...ummm?” Phil faltered, looking down at Dan who’s head was on his shoulder. “What does it mean?”“Yeah.” “Don’t know.” Dan shrugged. “I know I care about you, love you. I know you’re my best friend. I know that that was amazing, and I know I want to do it again sometime. But I also know we did the whole couple thing before...and it didn’t work out.”“It didn’t work, you’re right, but we’re different now. We’re older, and more mature. Maybe we didn’t work out before because it was too early. It wasn’t the right time. I know I never really wanted to break up, and that I never stopped wanting you.” Phil said, skimming his hand down Dan’s arm. “Maybe if we don’t label our relationship...and just be, just act how we want… just be us, you know? Maybe that would be better. I know that I don’t want anyone else. I love you Dan, and have loved you since the very beginning. I also know that I don’t want you to leave, or be with someone else. I want to be affectionate with you, and make love and have sex with you...but I also don’t want us to change really. I love us as us. I love our life, the only thing I would like to change is how we express how we feel about each other. Does that sound okay?” “Sounds perfect.” Dan nodded. “We should also promise to talk to each other.” “We talk all the time.” “I mean about how we’re feeling, if something has changed about how we feel about our relationship or one another.” “Agreed.” “I feel like we should prick our fingers and sign a contract or something.” Phil chuckled.“How bout we seal the deal with a kiss?” “Much better option.” Phil smiled, then leaned over to kiss Dan. They both sighed into it, starting sweet, but eventually they had to pull away in order to catch their breath. “Missed this.” Phil said pecking Dan on the lips once more. “How’s your back?” Dan sat up slowly. “Still a little tight, but much better, I can move. You did a good job Philly.” Dan smiled down at him. “How about I run you a bath to clean off some of this oil, and relax your back a little more? Then when you’re done, we go to bed and watch a movie?” “Sounds good.” Dan smiled, “Thanks for taking care of me.”“What are best friends for if not back massages, that finish with a happy ending?” Phil smirked, before getting up and walking down the hall to start the bath.
10643889	Satisfaction	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Star Butterfly, Marco Diaz, Janna Ordonia, Tom Lucitor, Jackie Lynn Thomas, Lilacia Pony Head, Ferguson O'durguson, Alfonzo Dolittle", "Fandom": "Star vs. the Forces of Evil", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by PeachyBeee", "chapters": "9/9", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-16T00:00:00", "words": "24,727", "Additional Tags": "Angst, Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Halloween, Eventual Romance, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Fluff, Halloween Costumes", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Star Butterfly/Marco Diaz, Star Butterfly & Marco Diaz, Star Butterfly/Oskar Greason, Marco Diaz/Jackie Lynn Thomas, Tom Lucitor/Janna Ordonia", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/M, Gen", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	"STAR-R-R-R-R!" Marco's voice sounded from behind as he clung on to the nearest vehicle in order to avoid being sucked up by another black hole."Hold on Marco!" She pointed her wand towards it yelling the spell, "Multi-Candy-Sheep-Plug-Cannon!" As soon as she said the words, thousands of pink cotton candy sheep began pouring out of her wand filling up the black hole and reducing the pressure. "Phew, that could've gone horribly!" She beamed and pulled Marco to his feet."How did that even work?" He dusted off his hoodie and stared wide eyed between star and the sheep plugging up the hole as one got sucked through."Eh, I have no idea," Star shrugged and laughed, "You down for pizza?""Sure!" Marco replied and the two walked away from the beaten up monsters and utter wreckage of broken vehicles and buildings that had been left behind. It was just another classic day for Star and Marco.Two pizzas and a ten-minute walk later, they arrived at the Diaz residence, wiped out from a day of kicking ass and mildly destroying the whole town."Ah, what a day, huh?" Marco grinned, laying back on the couch before peering over at his best friend. Star had fallen asleep as soon as they sat down and was currently drooling while murmuring something about monsters and her mother.Marco took one look at her and smiled to himself, shaking his head before pulling her arms over his shoulders and carrying her, piggy-back style, up to her room and to her bed. At least he attempted to carry her without disturbance; unfortunately, he wasn't the strongest kid in the world and Star wasn't the most peaceful sleeper either. It almost reminded him of the time she had cast spells in her sleep as she was thrashing about chaotically, yet somehow still sleeping soundly through the whole ordeal. Yep, that was Star, alright.He tried his best to gracefully put her down but she slumped head first onto the mattress with her arms outstretched in front of her, legs on the floor."Eh, good enough," He shrugged and left to go to his own room but paused as he heard a brief 'thanks Marco,'. He heard shuffling and presumed she was changing clothes so he hurried out. It wasn't even particularly late but he could feel the fatigue crawling in and decided the best thing to do would be to get an early night.Then he remembered the tests they had in the morning and groaned, walking to his desk to study.He looked it up and down: from the pencil marks he'd always left in boredom as a kid, to the taped together legs keeping the furniture upright after Star's 'Mystic Room Suck Transform' spell, to the spider drawings she'd leave every time she hung out there. Suddenly, studying seemed to be at the back of Marco's mind as he looked at each one individually. Most of them were the same but a fare few were individual, such as the 'Angie' spider and the 'Rafael' spider, based on his parents as well as the 'Star' and 'Marco' spiders.Finally, Marco returned his attention to his text books and looked over his history assignment before shutting the light off and going to bed. Something told him the oncoming day would be even more draining than the current. "Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh, Marco!" His eyes lazily fluttered open at the sound of Star's voice and he suddenly opened them wide in the realization that she was in his room, pulling his quilt over him more to cover up his pajama'd body."W-what happened?" His voice felt croaky from waking up.Star sat on his bed with her usual nightgown on and she bit her nails in nervousness, avoiding eye contact."Okay, it wasn't totally my fault," She grinned in anxiety."Star...""Okay, maybe it was," She began, "Oh no, what am I going to do! I'll have to stay indoors forever! I can't tell my parents, oh my gosh, my parents would kill me! And then send me to St. O's," She screamed, clutching her knees."You didn't answer me, what ha-," Marco heard his father yell in alarm and he rushed out of his room to where the yell came from: Star's bedroom."Oh, hello Marco!" Rafael greeted, grinning. His arm was also stuck inside the mouth of a mutant dresser."Dad?" Marco looked between Rafael and the dresser with recently acquired teeth. It scarily resembled monster arm and he flinched in memory."Nice... monster," His father patted the wooden draws gingerly, gritting his teeth. The creature snarled between its clenched jaw which withheld his arm in an iron grip.Suddenly, Star burst into the room. She looked at the creature, pointing and screaming simultaneously with Marco."What do we do?""You're the one with the wand?"Star shook her head, pointing to the mutant dresser, "It... ate it," She confessed and Marco gulped."Maybe... it's not so bad, we just have to... lock it up, make sure it doesn't cause any harm?" Marco suggested. "For now anyway, do you have any chains or-,""Psssh, of course I do!" She pulled a chain-mace from the wall and flung it at the dresser. Rafael ducked as it wound around the creature and stayed. "Well, that was easy!""I think you're forgetting something," Marco pointed to his father who was still stuck."Hmmm," Star stared in thought and while they hesitated, the creature broke free of the mace, briefly releasing Rafael's arm and a glimpse of the wand. Star lunged for it instinctively and Marco had to grab her waist to pull her away from the creature's jaws."Are you insane? You'd be stuck in there too!" He fretted."But-,""Ey, I'm free! Thanks kids!" Rafael celebrated and ran out of the room as laser-puppies gave chase."What was he doing in here anyway?" Marco questioned sceptically."Eh, probably borrowing my tweezers,"Marco gave her a look."Don't question it,""Right," He glanced at his phone for the time and realized they had ten minutes until School started. "Holy crap, we're going to be so late!" He yelled to Star who yelled back and then abruptly stopped."Hey, don't even worry about it, we can get there in three minutes with-," Star was about to mention her wand before her eyes went wide."What?" Marco asked, panicking."My wand's in there!" She exclaimed."Yes, we gathered that!""No, I mean, my wand is in there! And all of my clothes!" She slapped her face in her hands.Marco widened his eyes, "Hey, it's okay, maybe we can..." He searched for ideas, "Mo-o-o-m!" He drew out his mother's name.Angie appeared a few moments later, beaming through the doorway, "Everything okay?""Where's Star's laundry?" Marco asked frantically.Angie looked taken aback, "Why on earth would-?""Just answer the question!""I finished all her laundry last night," Angie stated, "Why?""I knew I shouldn't have listened to my mom, 'dressers are tidier than clothes rails' yeah right," She mocked in frustration, "I have no clothes... and no wand," Star's eyes watered and Marco tried to think of something."How did this even happen in the first place?" He inquired."I don't know, I was probably sleep spelling again," She replied, still knelt on the floor."Why don't you borrow something of Marco's," Angie suggested and the two stared at her in alarm."Mom... she can't do that,""Why not?""Because...!""Okay, how about something of mine then?"Star glanced up at Angie. She was certainly a... curvy woman. Star couldn't imagine wearing Angie's clothes and she quickly shook her head. "That's okay, I've borrowed Marco's clothes before," She brushed off, "We're practically the same size," She tried her best to smile, "It'll just be a little weird not having my wand for a day," She looked at the floor."Okay, it's sorted then, since you're late, I'll give you both a lift to school if you'd like?" Angie offered, smiling but Star shook her head once more."That's okay!" Star suddenly remembered something, "I have these!" She held up her dimensional scissors and grinned from ear to ear, "C'mon Marco, let's go find something to wear," Star dragged her anxious friend with her back into his room."Star, are you sure? I don't want people to get the wrong idea," Marco warned, fully showered and dressed and waiting for her to finish brushing her hair."Damn, this is so much easier with a wand," She murmured, "Nah, it's fine! What do ya mean 'wrong idea'?"Marco glanced at her mirroring outfit and immediately wished he didn't wear identical clothes every day. Maybe, if he changed up his style every now and then, people wouldn't notice, but with the hoodie and jeans Star was wearing, it was bound to give off the wrong impression."I'll just pretend I'm role-playing as you... again," She smiled before whipping out her dimensional scissors.Marco couldn't hide his dread at the inevitable reaction they would get from their classmates but seeing Star in normal clothes, without her signature horns or magic, looking... human, was quite a humbling sight. The fact that they were his clothes, brought the slightest of blushes to his face but he'd blame that on the room temperature."We look like twins!" She cheered, grabbing his hands and pulling him through the portal with her. He'd never get over the feeling of going through dimensional portals, even when he only ended up on earth, it still felt like Marco had been turned inside out. He also would never get over the dreaded feeling, just before the first bell rang, of their classmates staring at him and Star in their matching outfits."Diaz, you sly dog, you!" He heard the voice of Ferguson behind him, "You're lucky I didn't make my move, or you'd have some competition on your hands," The ginger boy joked and Alfonzo laughed along."It's not-,""I called it!" Janna yelled and happily took a handful of money from Justin.There were other various comments and snickers as well as a disproving snort from Brittney Wong. Star happily skipped to class without noticing the change in atmosphere while StarFan13 snapped pictures of her in her new getup. Marco covered his face with his hand and dragged himself after her, avoiding the curious stares of the entire student body.It was then when he shared eye contact with none other than Jackie Lynn Thomas as she skated through the school. She gave a brief look of shock, eyes darting between Marco and Star before giving him a thumbs up and a wink before gliding away. Marco, after recovering from her acknowledging and even winking at him, felt his whole soul tear apart with frustration. It was intense enough that he felt like lashing out at someone but, then he saw the happy look on the Star's face and he knew he couldn't bring himself to provoke an argument. Not with his best friend, anyway.He'd just have to grit his teeth for the rest of the day and endure the teasing of every single one of his classmates before they could go home and fix the dresser predicament. Like he assumed, it was a long day. After a series of long and boring classes, Marco had just arrived at the food hall to spot Ferguson and Alfonzo sitting across from Star. He'd almost forgotten about the matching outfit situation until she waved him over, very overtly, and grabbed the attention of the other tables."Marc-!" She almost shouted but he reached the table quickly and covered her mouth."Do you want everyone in the school to hear you!" He hissed and sat down."W-what? Since when have you cared about that?" Star asked but before Marco could reply Alfonzo cut in."So Star, how long have you two been together?" He grinned and Ferguson leaned in."Been together?" She questioned. Marco raised a finger to object but she continued, "Well, I arrived on Earth about a year ago and that was when Marco showed me around... wait, why are you asking? I thought everyone knew this by now?" She looked at them in confusion."Wow, this has been going on longer than I thought," Ferguson exchanged a glance with Alfonzo, "Don't get me wrong Star, everyone had their assumptions, it's just, no one could be sure, y'know," He continued, "Since well, Marco's... Marco and you're you,""What do you mean?" She asked sceptically, suddenly feeling a wave of discomfort."You guys have it so wrong," Marco stated flatly, returning from the vending machine and angrily chewing on a snack bar. "The whole school has it so wrong-,"Suddenly the sound of a badly played key-tar was heard from outside and Star ran to the window, letting out a staccato sigh and staring intently at the one and only, Oskar Greason. Ferguson and Alfonzo looked at Star and then back to Marco."Dude, you just gonna sit there?" Ferguson stressed, "He's totally hypnotizing your lady!""We're not dating!" Marco snapped and stood up, grabbing Star's attention as she turned around."Dating?" She echoed."This is what I was trying to say before! I know it looks like we are since we're wearing the same clothes and all but this is all just some huge misunderstanding!" Everyone had turned to stare at them now.Star burst out laughing, "What on Mewni gave you the idea that me and Marco were dating?" She tried to stifle her laughs. The other three looked at her clothes and then back at her. "What?""Star..." Marco took a deep breath, "Sometimes people that are dating... wear matching clothes,"Star looked at him, narrowing her eyes and smiling, "You're joking," She burst out laughing, "Okay, good one guys,""No really,""What?!" She couldn't suppress her amusement, "Humans are so weird!" Her laughter echoed throughout the room as they all kind of looked at her awkwardly.Marco shook his head and then half smiled, "Yeah, they are pretty weird," Soon enough, the school day was at an end; Star and Marco were halfway home already."...And that was how Ferguson got away from the whole angry cheer-leading squad with nothing but a bottle of mustard,""Whoa,""But anyways, we need to work out what we're gonna do about your dresser," Marco stated and Star nodded."You're right, as much as I like your hoodies, I don't want to be wearing them for the rest of my time on earth,""Exactly, maybe we should ask Glossaryck?" Marco shrugged. The little blue dude had somewhat helped them out before when it came to Star's wand so maybe he knew what had happened to her dresser and how to fix it?"You know, that's not a bad idea," ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Hmmm," The small blue glossary looked the dresser up and down which seemed to be strangely content. The only evidence of it being alive was its steady breathing movements. Glossaryck floated closer, stroking his chin in thought. He poked the piece of furniture several times before peeling a splinter from it. He brought it to his tongue and licked it before investigating it in more detail with his eyes. Finally, he broke it in two and looked between the two pieces before throwing them behind his back and placing his hands behind his head, lazily floating back to meet Star and Marco."Well?" Marco interrogated."It seems, Miss Butterfly," Glossaryck ignored Marco, "That this magic is similar to your own, but not yours," He explained, "The spell that has granted life to this dresser hasn't been cast by your half of the wand, that doesn't mean to say you cannot reverse the spell with your own, which brings to attention, where is your wand?""Actually..." Star glanced at the creature once again and back to Glossaryck, "It's not exactly in my reach," She tiptoed around the question. "The dresser ate it," Marco explained and Star smiled sheepishly."I see," Glossaryck looked uninterested, "Then I'll have to let the King and Queen know of this inconvenience," He stated before sliding back into Star's spell book. "Good-bye-,""Wait!" Marco yelled as Glossaryck immediately reappeared."Please don't tell them Glossaryck, they'll send me to St Olga's," Star pleaded, falling to her knees in desperation."What's so bad about Olga's? Your best friend goes there, doesn't she?" Glossaryck responded casually."No you don't understand! Last time we were there-," Star stopped herself, realising she was saying too much that Glossaryck could easily tell her mother. According to pony-head, the school had turned into some kind of party school with Miss Heinous gone but that still meant if she was sent there she'd have to leave Earth... and Marco, "There has to be something we can do!"Glossaryck read her eyes for a few minutes before finally announcing, "In order to overcome this, you'll have to decide on one of three options: One, you could, as you have done before without your wand, dip down and reverse the spell, Two, tell your mother, or Three, find the other half of the wand and reverse the spell,""Well the second one is out of the question," Marco glanced towards Star, "How good are you at wandless magic?""Almost as good as I am with my wand!" Star replied, half joking."So we're screwed,""Indeed," Glossaryck glanced at her from head to toe, "The circumstances since last time have changed,""Huh?" They both looked at him."You won't be able to retrieve your wand this time by dipping down, that much is clear,""I guess that leaves us with our only option, finding the other piece of your wand," Marco stated to Star as Glossaryck disappeared back inside the spell book amidst a cloud of smoke."Yeah,""And last time we saw it, Ludo had it,""That's right,""And we won't have a wand to help us if we decide to go up against him to get it back,""Uhuh,"Marco was midway freaking out when his mother entered the room, "Star! How about we go out and buy you some new clothes for tomorrow, since you don't have your wand anymore," She suggested, cheerfully and Star beamed."Ooh! Human clothes!""But Star-r-r-r!" Marco interrupted, "We have to figure out what we're going to do about your wand!""And we will Marco, don't worry," She brushed off."Why do I get the feeling I'm more anxious about this whole thing than you are?""Because, I know where my wand is, my parent's won't find out and the dresser isn't attacking anyone-,"A bite sound was heard followed by a scream from Rafael, "Ahh!""It'll be fine; we'll be back soon!" Star waved and followed Angie out of the house. Marco turned to look at his father who had his arm stuck inside the dresser's mouth again. Rafael gave him a shrug and a sheepish smile as Marco rolled his eyes. "Ooooh! Earth shopping!" Star stared wide eyed at the gleaming aisle of t shirts in front of her. Angie raised an eyebrow at the boring shirts with a pitiful 'sale' sign hanging next to them. "They're so pretty!" Star continued."Sure, if you say so," Angie responded. "Well, there's not much to choose from so, pick as much as you like,"Star spent the majority of the time running up and down the store, biting her nails and shrieking with excitement. Most of the time, Moon would force her to wear dresses she could barely move in and, it wasn't as though she hated them, they just weren't really her style. That was until she moved to Earth. Here, she had all the freedom to wear her favourite outfits every day and that in itself was awesome! Now, as she stood among all of the normal clothes with normal prices, couldn't ease her excitement. She felt for the first time ever, grown up. She'd always love her own quirky wardrobe, but who's to say she couldn't change things up a bit and make the most out of this Earth-shopportunity.After about an hour, Star happily modelled a new outfit: a grey t-shirt, blue oversized jacket and peach skirt. Angie was surprised at how well Star put the clothes together from what little choice she had as there weren't many places to clothes shop in Echo Creek. It wasn't all they'd bought either. By the amount of shopping bags they carried, one would think they'd purchased the whole store, when in actuality, Star just wanted a pair of socks in every colour of the rainbow."I don't understand! How can you not have cerulean? You have fuchsia, jade and even salmon! Cerulean is like in the top ten colours!""Ma'am, please don't shout at me,""Star, listen to the poor guy, besides, you already have cerulean,""No, that's cobalt, it's completely different Mrs Diaz,"Angie shook her head and looked outside. An idea came to mind immediately, "Hey Star, how's about we grab something to eat?" She pointed across the road to a row of different restaurants.Immediately distracted, Star's eyes widened and she shuffled closer to the window, "Ooh, okay!" Food always caught her attention. Marco made his way to Stop N Slurp to calm himself down from Star's antics yet again. Sometimes he loved having time to himself other times he hated it. As overwhelming as Star was, he hated not having her with him all the time. He sighed once again, imagining his mom and Star bonding, picking out clothes, the usual girl stuff. Then he pictured what it'd really be like and shivered at the thought, hoping his mom wouldn't get lost in another dimension or killed while they were out.He opened the door, hearing the familiar ring as he made his way inside the mostly empty convenience store. He was very much in the mood for a slurpee."I'm sorry Marco, our ice machine is out of order today," The clerk's voice was monotone as usual."What!" Marco groaned in frustration, "After walking all the way here," He muttered to himself before directing his attention back at the clerk who had cleared his throat. This day couldn't get any worse."Yeah, I'm also not allowed to sell you anything until you pay off your tab," The clerk's voice cracked as he spoke."Are you kidding, I don't even have a-,""Ahem," The clerk cleared his throat once again.Marco studied the piece of paper for a few moments and cringed at the number, "Not again," He muttered, "I keep telling you, if you see a blonde girl, wearing mostly blue, don't let her put stuff on my tab unless I'm here!""Yeah, sure, whatever," The clerk nodded, while eating a bag of popcorn and lazily streaming something on his phone. "Are you even listening?""Tab, something, blue girl, got it,"Marco groaned again, "Ugh," before hearing a familiar voice behind him. His day couldn't get any worse."Marco?"He turned, oh no."Hey, it is you! We haven't spoken in a while,"He wasn't prepared for this."How've you been? I heard about that whole situation with Star and the matching clothes, heh, it was a pretty funny misunderstanding huh?"He was not prepared, today, to have a conversation with Jackie Lynn Thomas."Heheh, yeah... funny," Marco racked his brain for something to say, anything. "So... do you come here often?"Jackie gave him a weird look. He immediately mentally face-palmed and melted under her confused gaze into a puddle of embarrassment."Well, I mean, it is Stop N Slurp, sure, I come here often," Her frown turned into a grin and then into a laugh. Marco was proud of himself for making her laugh."I'm sorry, that was a totally dumb thing to say," He stuttered. The last time he spoke to her like this was when she found out his deadly dark secret. That fateful sleepover. Still, things hadn't gone as horribly as he dreaded and he'd been working up the courage to ask her out ever since. It just never seemed to be the right time, especially with classes, karate and Star."Nah, it's cool, don't worry about it," She grinned, "So that whole thing today, loads of people thought that you and Star were official I mean... I'm not gonna lie, I thought the same thing,""You did?" Marco inwardly sighed, looking back and forth at Jackie's eyes for something better to say."But you're not, right? You guys are just friends,"Marco was confused for a moment. He felt the need to nod excessively and stress that he and Star were best friends and nothing more but the way she said 'just' brought a frown to his face. It made him want to disagree. "That's right," He finally managed to say."Cool," She finished and waited for a long time as though she were expecting him to say something. He didn't get the memo apparently because she continued, "Do you wanna, maybe, go get tacos then?""What, right now?""Sure, or whenever,"Marco hesitated for a few minutes before he caught on to her implication. "Oh! You mean...""Yep,""So you?""Sure,""I'd love to!" Marco almost squealed. Almost."I'll text you,""Okay." The Diaz residence was almost in sight. It was just a short journey up the hill and around the corner. Once she arrived, she rang the doorbell once, waited for thirty seconds and then whipped out her key, letting herself in.Janna took a look around the house. It looked like not even Marco's parents were home. After shrugging away her initial intention of looking for Star, she decided to leave and come back, although she felt like a change of scenery. The ravenette decided to leave via the back door.She was almost sure that Star knew she had a set of keys, even if Marco wasn't informed of her frequent visits, but then again, who in the neighbourhood was?She shoved her headphones in her ears, pressing shuffle on her phone, before noticing all her unanswered texts. She pondered for a few minutes, replying to most of the group chats so people wouldn't think she was ignorant. A one worded unrelated reply would usually do. Some days she'd spice things up a bit with a meme. Today was definitely one of those days.It was at this point when she noticed something bright, shining right in her eyes. Weird? She thought to herself. Janna loved crazy and creepy stuff and so she was determined to find the shiny light's source. It looked like it was on the balcony of Star's tower. She wasn't surprised; the weird stuff usually revolved around Star and so, she did the only logical thing and went to go investigate, making her way back inside to the balcony.Janna envied how nice Star's room was sometimes. She looked at the corner and noticed what looked to be Star's dresser, only it had teeth and was, at that point, asleep. A trail of drool trickled from it's sharp, teeth and she made sure to take a picture before climbing the spiral staircase to the next floor.By the time she had reached the balcony and had looked around, it seemed the shiny thing was gone. That's a shame, she thought, leaning against the brick railing before turning and heading out again. What she didn't notice, however, was the trail of glitter along the wall, now collected on her palm. Later, Star and Angie both decided to stop for dinner at The Salty Barnacle. Seagulls cried overhead as they made their way inside the diner-style restaurant and sat down in a booth by the window. Star clutched her menu, lounging across the table as she read."Hmmmm," She looked back and forth at the words. She couldn't decide whether to have the special or something else. Suddenly her eyes trailed over the breakfast dishes and she stopped letting out a gasp at the words in front of her."BACON WAFFLES!?" She was in awe and almost passed out at the thought, "That sounds amazing!""Bacon waffles huh? If you say so Star," Angie laughed before getting up to order. Star grinned lazily to herself as she lay on the table until she spotted someone in her peripheral vision. She was so startled, she fell backwards into the booth behind her and hid, her heartrate speeding up tenfold and her cheek's warming drastically. The person came accompanied with a keytar slung over his right shoulder and a couple of friends as they made their way to a booth by the entrance. It was none other than: Oskar Greason.Angie returned shortly afterwards and took a seat opposite Star, her back was facing the door so she couldn't see what had bothered Star so much."Star?" She asked in concern, "Are you alright?"Star let out a weak squeal as she slid down, her chin now resting on the table. Angie instinctively turned around to see what Star was looking at and not a moment later she had caught on."The brunette huh?" She grinned leaning closer, "What's his name?"Star could've sworn she saw a flicker of disappointment in Angie's eyes but she was good at hiding it if that's what it was. "Oskar," Her voice came out as a half-sigh."And he goes to your school? Is he in the same grade as you? He looks older,"Star just nodded and began to recall some of the stories of her encounters with the boy. She mentioned mostly the one where Marco was teaching her how to ride a bike."He can drive?" Angie queried and looked at Star sceptically.She nodded, smiling and staring into space before continuing, "Well, sort off," She explained the rest of the story, reminiscing, before she finally finished, "And that's how Marco saved me!" She beamed, taking a bite out of her waffles that the waitress had recently brought them."Invisible goats? That sounds like a hell of an exciting story..." Angie chuckled and trailed off, "It's strange," she began again, "I thought you and Marco spent most of your time together?""Oh! Of course we do! He's my best friend of course!" Star eagerly interrupted.Angie looked at her in thought for a moment but couldn't control a smile emerging on her cheeks. "I thought so,"Suddenly Star's phone played 'Space Unicorn' and she glanced down at it. Naturally, the person calling her was indeed Marco and she stared at it in curiosity."It's alright, go on and answer it," Angie encouraged but Star simply shook her head and muted her phone."Nah, that would be rude! This is quality girl time after all," She smiled once again, adding extra maple syrup to her food and without hesitation, took a huge bite of her bacon waffles, exhaling slowly in satisfaction at the taste.Angie looked down at Star's phone and back at her and her eyes brimmed with happiness. She had truly enjoyed spending time with Star today and it had been years since she'd been anywhere without her boys: Raphael and Marco. It wasn't like Angie always wanted a daughter, but having Star around seemed to fill a gap she never knew was there. She didn't want to think about what would happen when Star would inevitably return to Mewni.Star simply leaned forward to sip her soda and hum along to the jukebox music obliviously.The rest of the dinner, Angie talked to Star about school, life on Earth and she even asked questions about Mewni and Star's upbringing.By the time they left, The Salty Barnacle was closing and the sun was sending streams of orange and coral pink across the sky as it descended below the horizon. There was a slight breeze and Star shivered under her light jacket, gazing longingly at Marco's warm hoodie, the same one she'd worn throughout the day, which was tucked safely away in one of the shopping bags. It wouldn't hurt to wear it on their way home, to keep warm of course. When Marco finally got home, he carried a lazy smile on his features, ignoring the fact that the door was already open. He climbed up the stairs announcing his return and immediately started looking for his best friend."Hey Marco!" Angie called after him from the kitchen and he could hear his dad's voice too."Hey mom!" He replied on the way. He reached the landing and darted down the hall, "Star-r-r-r!" He almost launched through Star's bedroom door before she jumped in front of him, barrelling him out of the way and knocking the both of them over."NO! Don't go in there!" She yelled in panic, completely disregarding the awkward position they were in.Marco tensed and shuffled out of the way before standing up and offering his hand to help her. He rubbed the back of his head in pain and looked back down at Star, "What do you mean? Why?"Star took a deep breath and turned the doorknob, opening the door a crack and gesturing at Marco to look. He did as she said and moved closer, peering through the gap.He felt nervous at how close they were and then reminded himself how stupid of a thought that was due to how long they'd been friends. Close contact was simply a habitual aspect of friendship, right?He was so distracted, he almost forgot that he was supposed to be looking at something until it caught his eye. Or rather they caught his eye.He wasn't sure what he was expecting; he knew the dresser was probably still mutated, strongly resembling monster arm, but he never thought in his wildest nightmares that all of Star's bedroom furniture would be mutated too. This time however, the furniture was even worse, baring sharp, monstrous teeth which were ten times larger and more pointed than the dresser that morning. Marco turned back to Star and visibly gulped. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "BEEP-BEEP-BEEP," Star woke with a start. She groaned, sitting up and dragging her hands over the bags under her eyes. She spotted the floorboards first, which were very different from her bluish tiles and then she remembered she wasn't in her room.She peered over at the lump of quilt above her. Her breathing sped up as she saw Marco's fluffy brown bed head peeping out from his covers and the slow rise and fall of his chest as he snored. Her cheeks heated up and immediately she evacuated the room, dragging a bundle of clothes from her pile on the floor as she left to change in the bathroom. Marco stayed where he was, sleeping soundly through the alarm.Star didn't know what was going on with herself, she tried to cool her face off with cold tap water and quickly pulled on the peach coloured sweater. The hem almost reached her knees and the sleeves were too big so she rolled them up and put on some mint green coloured leggings and white sneakers. Her hair looked a mess; she wasn't used to manually fixing it every morning so she decided to pull it up into a ponytail but still, something seemed to be missing. She found a red ribbon in her bathroom chest of unorganised utensils and tied it around her ponytail. It wasn't the same as her horns but it would do.Finally, she made her way into the kitchen, tempted by the smell of freshly cooked breakfast and almost walked right into Marco, who looked like he had just woken up. "Oh sorry!" They both said simultaneously, staring at each other for a little too long. Star couldn't understand why she felt so awkward around him all of a sudden. He gave her one last smile before disappearing into the bathroom as Star ran down the stairs. Maybe it was because of his date with Jackie that Star didn't want to be so openly friendly with him anymore, after all, people did have their assumptions about them. She decided to shrug it off and get through the school day as usual: they'd get the bus, walk to class and sit at their same table at lunch. It would all be perfectly ordinary and nothing could go wrong. Well, it would be as ordinary as her day could be.For the most part, it went that way. Sure, Marco seemed a lot more distracted with his phone over breakfast, even when Star told him the exciting story of how her and his mother went thrift shopping and she showed off her outfit. It didn't matter if Marco was listening or not, nothing could put a downer on Star's mood. Even when they burst through the school doors and were suffocated with posters and handouts of the most recent obsession: something called the 'Jack-O-Jamboree'. Although Star had no idea what it was or why she was accepting a colourful piece of paper, she never faltered her enthusiasm."Oh my gosh! Marco look!" Her hands scrunched around the flyer in fists as she waved it around at him."What am I looking at?" Marco asked her, clearly not looking at the flyer. She sighed and brought it right in front of his face."I don't know!" She grinned, "What is it?"Marco's eyes flew up from his phone to the flyer for a brief second before shooting back down to his phone. He took a sidestep out of the way and turned, continuing to read his text messages, "One sec," He held a free hand up before typing something and then giggling to himself, "Don't worry about that Star, it's just another stupid school dance, since it's Halloween, I'm guessing people dress up..." He trailed off, not paying attention again but it didn't matter."Oh my gosh!" She repeated, shooting her eyes over the writing again back and forth so she could absorb all the details."Yeah... don't get too excited, those things are a drag," Marco half-heartedly told her but she had already disappeared. He rolled his eyes walking as he texted until he walked face first into an open locker, "Ow Jeez!""Thanks!" Justin gave him a thumbs up before running down the hall to class. At least the whole 'Jack-O-Jamboree' thing had people talking about something else other than him and Star. He locked his phone and slipped it into his hoodie pocket, grabbing out his math book from his locker as he went, hoping to pass Jackie by as he went."Okay you guys, wait for it... wait for it, HERE IT IS!" Star yelled loudly in the cafeteria causing a few awkward glances to turn to her from other students. Ferguson and Alfonzo sat across from her, sipping their respective drinks."What about it?" Ferguson looked unimpressed, glancing down at the poster and then back up again at Star."It's Halloween!" She drew out the words and waited for the reaction she wanted from them."Yay!" Alfonzo cheered and then looked to Ferguson for approval."It happens every year, what's your point?""Well," Star began, leaning back on her chair confidently, "There's a costume contest and we're gonna win," She flashed a grin."Oh yeah, we already have a plan for our group costume!" Alfonzo and Ferguson both exchanged a grin before looking back at Star who seemed mildly hurt."Wait... you do?" Her eyes flickered like a puppy as she continued, "No matter!" She brushed off, "Marco's still gonna dress up with me, aren't you Marco?""Yeah sure..." Marco stated, not paying attention. The others just gave each other a worried look. "See!" She grinned, grabbing his shoulder and squeezing his body in an attempted hug to which he turned blue."S-Star!" He choked."What are you two dressing up as anyway?" She pondered, releasing Marco and leaning forward on her elbows."We have an amazing idea, it's the scariest thing ever!" Ferguson boasted."What is it?""Ah you'll just have to wait-,""It's Marco's tab at Stop-n-slurp!" Alfonzo announced excitedly and Star cheered before stopping."I don't get it?""It doesn't matter, anyways, what are you two dressing up as?" Ferguson gave Alfonzo an eyeroll at announcing their surprise costume before turning back to Star."Oh I have a great idea! I just need a few supplies," She stated before grabbing Marco's hand to write down her list."Star!" Marco complained from being distracted, "I'm arranging plans with Jackie, do you have to do this now?" She looked at him in confusion and then it dawned on her."Oooooh, Jackie...!" She grinned at him suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows, "Nice job Marco!" She congratulated, "But it can wait, we have more important stuff to do!" She picked up his hand, showing it to him and then pointed at it, trying to make it as apparent as she could.Janna passed by with a tray of food stopping to add in, "Trouble in paradise?" which earned a glare from Marco as she teasingly smiled, walking away again.Marco began to read the list sceptically, "Star, you're not going to find dragon scales or lava horns on Earth and what-," He struggled to read her handwriting, "What's demon llama fur?""Hmmm, you're right," She held her chin in thought before an idea flew into her mind, "I bet Janna has some! Gotta go, bye!" She spoke quickly and pelted away after Janna, "JANNA!"Marco shook his head and returned his gaze to his phone."What's this?" Ferguson pried."Huh?" Marco looked up for the second time."Marco's not paying attention to Star?" Alfonzo looked disappointed."What are you talking about?" He glanced between the two."He's referring to how you're no longer obsessing over her," Ferguson stated simply, taking a long and condescending slurp of his drink."I never-," He began before taking a breath, "I don't obsess over Star," He felt his cheeks heat up and panic rise in his throat before he stumbled over his words, "D-do I?"The other two just shook their heads, "Well if you wanna take my advice," Ferguson began, "You better keep your promise about the costume thing,""Yeah, whatever," Marco's attention was already taken away as he stood up, "I gotta go and meet Jackie, we're making plans," he smiled lazily."Yep, you already said that," Alfonzo sighed and Ferguson echoed him."See ya!" Star apparently wasn't the only enthusiastic one that day.Meanwhile further down the corridor, Star rushed to speak to Janna, catching her breath, "J-," She paused to wheeze, "Whoa... ran too fast... just give me a minute," She straightened up, "Whoop, that's a lot harder without my wand, any chance you've got any slime, unicorn toenails or demon llama fur?" She cut straight to the chase.Janna raised an eyebrow, leaning against a locker with her tray in one hand as she picked from it, "Sure, I'll see what I can do,""I knew you would! Thank you so much!" Star exclaimed as she watched Janna fumble around in her backpack. She pulled out a large green jar harbouring the requested slime. Star didn't seem to notice the unconceivable size of the jar compared to the size of the backpack or she just chose not to question it. Most people knew not to question Janna."As for that other stuff," Janna began, "I'll need to go to my locker but I'll make sure they get to you by the end of the day," She smiled around a sandwich, "I take it you're dressing up?""Yes! How did you know?""Overheard a couple things, so are you and Marco like, doing a couple costume?" Star looked at a loss so she elaborated, "Y'know, dressing up together, probably fulfilling some freaky inter-dimensional monster kink or something," Her voice went quieter during the last words.Star's face flushed pink for some reason, "Couple costume? Well... we are doing a group costume if that's what you mean?" She didn't understand at all what Janna meant, understandably; it was hard to understand anything that Janna said. Janna just snorted at her innocence."That's what I meant, just in fewer words," She insisted and Star was about to protest, "Well, have fun!" She turned abruptly and walked away, leaving her tray disbanded in the corridor where it probably shouldn't have been. Star shrugged and smiled."Weird," She giggled before heading back down the corridor.On the way there, she just so happened to pass Oskar Greason. It seemed Oskar had evolved from playing his keytar on the bonnet of his car to actually walking around the school. He looked lost. Not in a way where it looked like he needed directions, but in a way where it looked like his mind was completely gone. Star was ecstatic at the sight of him."Oskar-r-r," She breathed from the other end of the corridor before hiding behind a locker. She didn't dare speak to him but her eyes trailed after him as he walked. Her eyes weren't the only thing trailing him however. To Star's surprise, a small vial was shoved haphazardly in the back pocket of his backpack and a river of glitter lined the floor of the corridor. She blinked twice, before turning around and heading back to the cafeteria. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Marco? Marco!" "Huh what?" He swivelled around startled, dropping his phone, "No!" He knelt, grieving the loss of his technological friend.Star gaped holding a finger up, as though she was about to say something, "Oh my gosh Marco, I'm so sorry," She reached out about to place a hand on his shoulder but stopped short.He picked it up carefully breathing a sigh of relief when it switched on, "Yes!" He fist-pumped the air in achievement then turned to Star, "It's okay! Look, it still works!" He grinned, "Don't worry Star, it's not your fault," He stated blandly while his eyes were glued to the screen yet again.Star looked at the floor, "Oh good..." For some reason, she couldn't quite help but feel like the phone breaking might have been better, at least he'd actually listen when she spoke to him.However, Marco continued to walk and didn't notice as she followed after him. She was about to say something else but he cut in, "Hey I'm gonna walk home from school for a change, catch up later?"He didn't wait for a reply.Star trudged to the bus stop. She hoped Marco would remember that they were supposed to make their costumes that night but deep down she knew he'd forget. She tried to be optimistic. She called her best friend Ponyhead to cheer herself up and stay optimistic and even talked to Janna for a bit when she came around with the materials she needed. Angie waved at her as she sat in the living room, glitter and sequins littered the floor as she put together her costume, or at least started to. She waited until Angie and Rafael went to bed before sighing and getting up herself. Marco eventually came home, elated from the day. Star didn't want to cause an argument, so she pretended to be asleep on the couch. She waited until he ran all the way upstairs and shut his own door, signalling he'd gone to bed, before she eventually dragged herself up to her own room. She stood in front of it, about to open her door when she remembered. She couldn't. She even debated calling her mom but thought against it. Moon would probably order her home and then she'd have to explain everything. Instead, she walked back down the stairs and curled up on the sofa, bringing a blanket of monster hide over herself to keep warm. She bundled up in disappointment, from Marco forgetting a promise he probably didn't realise he'd made, to her own actions for locking herself out of her room. Maybe tomorrow would be better? Maybe Marco would make it up to her? Marco looked around, his mouth agape. Jackie had taken him to the skate park which she had stated was 'Her favourite' in all of Echo Creek. She didn't bring her board though, from the looks of it, which was unusual for her. When Marco questioned it she simply replied with, "Skullnick caught me skating in the hallways again and took it off me." She sighed. Marco said something about that being totally unfair and Jackie chuckled, nodding her head.They sat on one of the skate ramps, which took a lot more effort on Marco's part. Jackie jumped up with ease out of probable years of habit while he struggled and sweated, eventually needing her help. He prayed his hands weren't as sweaty as he thought when she brought him up alongside her and visibly gulped when she lowkey wiped her hand on her shirt. He laughed nervously, internally kicking himself."Well would ya look at that," She gasped at the sunset. Marco tried to focus on it but couldn't sit still. His nerves were in overdrive.The usual soft yellow glow of Echo Creek's sky had deepened to an orange, almost red hue. He let his eyes rest on it as his beating heart calmed down a bit. Red was his favourite colour after all.The two paused, trying to start a conversation but Marco couldn't stifle the awkward air around them."So, do you-," They both started simultaneously, smiling sheepishly."Sorry, I totally interrupted you, what were you gonna say?" Marco tried."I was gonna say, do you wanna grab something to eat? I could totally kill a taco right about now," She leaned back, overly relaxed while Marco was the complete opposite."Sure," He nodded."Sweet," Jackie jumped down and held a hand out for him. He glanced down at his own sweaty hands and shoved them in his pockets before following."Yeah,"The short walk stretched out for what seemed like years before Jackie finally spoke again."So, what was that whole ordeal with you and Star and the matching hoodies about?" She light-heartedly poked."It's a long story," Marco admitted, looking at the ground with a comfortable smile on his face. He felt at ease thinking about something as familiar as his best friend."I bet it is," Jackie laughed, "I mean, just to clear things up, that was your hoodie she was wearing right,""Right," Marco confirmed, missing out the point that it wasn't just his hoodie she was wearing."So like, you have a few of these right?" She pulled at his sleeve teasingly, "You never seem to wear anything else?"Suddenly the whole conversation of clothes got Marco thinking. Was he forgetting something? He pictured monsters coming out from the shadows and kept looking over his shoulder anxiously. If they did attack, he would sure as hell be prepared."Hello? Earth to Marco?" Jackie waved a hand in front of his face."Huh? Sorry! I totally zoned out,"She laughed and dragged him through the door to Britta's, seating herself at a table and looking at him expectantly. Marco was distracted again; he didn't know why he couldn't sit still that night."You okay?" She pried and he nodded, shaking off the question."Absolutely!" He glanced at his phone, debating whether to call Star or not. He tried to the other day and she didn't answer so there was no reason why she would now. He switched it off and shoved it back into his pocket, "What were we talking about again?"Jackie shook her head, "Forget it," She studied him carefully, "Marco if there's somewhere you need to be, I totally understand,"Marco shook his head, "You overestimate my social life," He scratched the back of his neck dorkishly, "But no, I don't have anywhere I need to be; you have my full attention," He picked up a menu and flashed a smile.After they ordered, Marco noticed how Jackie ate her taco. She didn't add an enormous amount of sugar or draw a smiley face with the sauce. She ate normally. Marco tried not to look disappointed. Jackie raised an eyebrow in question and he returned it with a forced smile. He convinced himself this was a good day; his dream of going out with Jackie Lynn Thomas was coming true! He'd been waiting since elementary for this moment. Maybe he hyped it up too much? After half an hour at Britta's tacos, Marco decided it was time for him to head home. His parents were so laid back they never gave him a curfew but, that didn't change the fact that it was a school night and he had grades to maintain. Jackie nodded and mentioned that she'd see him around when he left and it took a good twenty minutes before he finally made it back to his house, trying to calm down his racing heart. For some reason, he couldn't quite place, he felt lonely. He hadn't felt like that since before Star came to Earth. Then it dawned on him, Star. He realised he hadn't seen her all afternoon and he raced his way upstairs stopping at her door only to remember there were mutated furniture pieces inhabiting the tower and it probably wasn't a good idea to go in. He wondered where she was and easily mistook the pile of laundry and possessions beneath the makeshift bed on his bedroom floor to be her sleeping self. He tried his best not to disturb her, or what he thought was her, regardless of whether she was a heavy sleeper or not, and took his jam-jams to the bathroom to change. He smiled at the lump under the blanket before rolling over and falling asleep, whispering into the dark room a "Goodnight Star," before passing out. When Marco woke, he almost forgot about the lump on the floor and practically tripped over it apologising profusely. It took him a few seconds to realise that the lump was inanimate and he breathed a sigh of relief before realising what that meant. Where was Star? He rolled over to check his watch and realised he was late for school. He panicked, grabbing his stuff and raced for the bathroom. A few seconds later, he emerged looking particularly ordinary yet frazzled and he bounded down the stairs shouting for Star."Didn't you leave with her?" His mom called from the kitchen to which he shook his head. It was too late to grab the bus now and without Star, they couldn't just use dimensional scissors. He braced for the worst and decided to grab his bike."Well Diaz, looks like we'll do this the Earth way," He narrowed his eyes as he placed his helmet on before setting off. The journey was distinct proof of why he should never cycle to school. Marco wasn't the most athletic teenager in the world and the length of the journey only added to how uncomfortable and sweaty he felt as soon as he arrived. His hair was a wild mess, which was acceptable as he had only just rolled out of bed but his face flushed as bright as his dripping sweaty red hoodie. Pairing that with the ever-drooping bags under his eyes and you had enough evidence to assume cycling to school was certainly not the boy's forte.Now following Marco's train of morning good luck, it might be a good time to mention that this was the moment when he spotted Star. Marco almost didn't recognise her and for good reason. There was no smile, no bright pink hearts on her cheeks. They had faded to a transparent grey. The expression was foreign on her face and it made Marco uneasy. That doesn't belong there, he thought to himself at the sight of her frown as he parked up his bike and chained it to the rail. He sped up to a sprint calling out to her. "Star!" He tried to swallow back the lump in his throat at his uneasy feeling. Star's face lit up for a split second but she was looking straight through him as Janna met her halfway. She turned away as Marco finally caught up, utterly out of breath and lost for words.When he became functional again, he flooded the air around them with casual conversation, "Hey! You're here early! You'd already left when I woke up," He started and she gave him a sad smile. He almost didn't like it as much as the frown she was wearing moments ago, "Anyway, yeah, I overslept, cycled all the way, so I'm-," He paused to catch his breath, "Wiped out!" He laughed but the silence in place of Star's usual adorable snorting was deafening. Looking back, Janna was definitely saying something to him about getting up late and there was probably background noise too as students filed off to their lessons but it felt so unbearably silent to him. Star had yet to say anything and she looked at the floor, avoiding his worried searching eyes."That sounds like a stressful morning," She finally said. The sound of her voice was so comforting it drowned out Janna's teasing and lit the sun once again. Marco was relieved as hints of the normal Star was seeping through, yet her eyes stayed the same: hurt. Marco scoured his brain for something else to say and continued, "I have so much to tell you about last night!" He tried with excitement. It was the worst thing to say. He felt her crumble under his gaze. He'd poured a great big bag of salt into the obvious wound and he cursed himself, trying to redeem himself any way possible. "I mean it wasn't all that great," He stopped short. She was already walking away. The damage had already been done and it hadn't started with this morning. Something was seriously wrong. Star gritted her teeth, grinning through the suffocating hurt she could feel in the pit of her belly. She knew she wouldn't be able to make it to the end of the day. She wanted to cry. She'd wanted to since the night before. Warriors don't cry, she muttered to herself, scoffing at her own weakness. She had always known Marco wouldn't need her forever; she expected this to happen, so why did it have to hurt so much? Maybe she thought she had more time. She didn't expect to feel like this until her inevitable journey back to Mewni. She felt miserable. It wasn't the fact he'd gone somewhere without her, it wasn't even the fact that he had gone on a date with Jackie. It was the fact that she was so sure he would be there; she convinced herself that he could never let her down and for the most part that was true. What made this time so different? She didn't understand at all.As much as she wanted to believe it, she wasn't convincing anyone. Starfan13 gazed at her in pity and even Brittney Wong gave her a soft frown. She didn't even notice her hearts until lunchtime. At that point, they had faded to the blue of her jacket. She inhaled sharply at the mirror in surprise. That had never happened before. "I just don't understand," Marco said through his sandwich, "She was fine yesterday... right?" He looked to his two friends."I don't know," Alfonzo admitted before Ferguson sat down to join them, tray in hand."Well..." Ferguson replied with his mouth full, "How did yesterday go?""Awkward as hell," Marco admitted this time, "I don't know if I've been around Star too much or we just don't have anything in common," He buried his face in his sleeves."What are you on about? You've got loads in common! You're always off fighting monsters together!" Ferguson interrupted."What?" Marco sat up before realising, "I'm talking about Jackie!""Jackie?" Alfonzo repeated, "Weren't you hanging out with Star yesterday?"Marco shook his head, "No... we didn't speak much at all after lunch, I was..." He looked at his phone guiltily, "Distracted,"Ferguson sighed, "Diaz, it looks like we've found the problem," He rolled his eyes at Marco's dumbfounded look, before holding up a flyer for the 'Jack-O-Jamboree'. "Costume making? Remember?""You did kinda say you'd dress up with her," Alfonzo put in."Did I?" Marco stuttered, the creeping wave of guilt and realisation dawning on him."Yeah man, she seemed even more excited than usual when she thought you were gonna make costumes with her last night," Ferguson added."Did... she?" Marco instinctively stood up (pun unintended). He had to set this right. He had to explain to Star that he had no intention of standing her up yesterday. Marco gulped, "Wait... Alfonzo, what day is it?""Thursday," He told him, taking a sip of apple juice, "Why?"Marco narrowed his eyes for the second time that day; a look of determination on his face. He spoke with confidence he didn't think he had when he confirmed what Alfonzo had said. "Friendship Thursday,"Marco's exit from the cafeteria probably looked a lot cooler in his head as his fists were balled up. Ferguson and Alfonzo shook their heads, grinning at his dorkiness.Marco was on a mission. He would, by all means necessary, make it up to Star in the best way possible. He would start by making her the cheesiest most delicious nachos she's ever had, with the perfect cheese to nacho ratio. He would then visit Emilio's and retrieve the most fantastic mushroom pizza as a main. He would wrap her up in the cosiest best friendship snuggly and watch 'fiesta de anoche' all night long. He would-Marco met Star's eyes for a brief moment and, in that moment, the hallway got longer and darker, time slowed down to a halt. She hadn't seen him. He hadn't seen her. She was talking to Oscar: actually talking. He bit back an unusual feeling and feigned pride for her. She must be feeling the same way he felt when he was hanging out with Jackie! This was a wonderful moment for her. Then her eyes had to meet his and he saw the sad smile still lingering there, dissipating around Oscar slowly but surely. He mentally kicked himself, Get a hold of yourself. He had to get out of there. He felt adrenaline kicking in, but why was he so stressed? He swallowed; his throat felt dry and then, he did the only rational thing he could think of. Marco turned around and walked the other way. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "HAY! What is up girl! I'm not here right now, ring B-A-A-A-CK later!" Star huffed and hung up her compact mirror at the pre-recorded video of Ponyhead for the third time.Star groaned, "She never answers her phone!" She slid her back down the wall into a seating position as she closed her mirror. She never realised how lonely school was without Marco. Part of her wanted to apologise for ignoring him but she was still upset over what had happened the night before. It wasn't like she was the only one avoiding the situation; he hadn't approached her once since this morning. He'd made it quite clear where his priorities were and remembering to make costumes with her clearly wasn't one of them. She told herself that it was on his shoulders to apologise first, as stubborn as that thought was. Then again, it had only been a day and already it had sunk in how much she missed him. She hung her head. He probably didn't even know he'd done anything wrong, and, being honest, he really hadn't. Star hated how selfish she felt. He was hanging out with the girl of his dreams: Jackie, something he'd been waiting for since seventh grade. Star should be happy for him..."Star?" She heard someone say her name. Her heart leaped for a moment when she thought it was Marco and then she realised, it was only Oskar."Oskar!" She exclaimed, flustered, "Hey! Heheh..." She ran out of words. She wasn't prepared for this conversation and her heart was beating rapidly. C'mon Butterfly, you got this. "You startled me," She smiled awkwardly.Oskar's mouth curved into a smile and Star thought she was going to pass out. "Sorry," He grinned like he wasn't sorry, "What're you doing on the floor?"Star glanced around like she only just noticed where she was, "Oh!" She tried to stand but was staring at Oskar too much and fell back down again, arms outstretched in front of her and hair covering her face. "Ow..." She muffled."Need a lil' help?" He offered, leaning down and holding out his hand for her. Star grinned lazily and grabbed his hand. "Tha-a-a-nks!" She breathed. She got to her feet slightly more gracefully this time and gave him a genuine smile."Where's your red-hoodie-dude?" Oskar asked casually and Star's eyes widened in surprise."Oh, uh, He's..." She hesitated, "...hanging out with other people today," She finished quickly, unconvincingly."Oh too bad," Oskar gave her a sympathetic look, "Are you doing anything important right now?" The question echoed through her ears when she took a glimpse behind him, spotting a familiar face. Marco, she thought. She met Oskar's eyes again and she gave him a reassuring smile. She searched for the right words but just as she hesitated, she noticed the flash of red disappearing as Marco walked away. Her expression fell to a frown. "Oh y'know," She tried a weak smile, "Just hanging out with the good-old self!" She rubbed her arm sadly.Oskar searched her eyes for a few minutes and glanced behind him. "I have an idea," He smiled.Without warning, Star felt her arm being tugged as Oskar had grabbed it and was leading her somewhere. She didn't ask where they were going. "Star, meet Monica, Winston and I think you already know Lars," Oskar introduced as she glanced between the students. Lars was beating up a school chair and paused to wave.Oskar had taken her to the shelters near the parking lot. It was a place notorious for the 'delinquents' from the upper years to hang out. Marco had told her, shortly after she first arrived, to avoid going there since she didn't have a very firm grasp on Earth culture and provoking them would be bad news for her, but that was a long time ago.Star gulped as she looked at the girl, Monica, who had short straight dark hair, a full fringe that reached halfway down her forehead and earrings all over her face. She wore ripped jeans and a lot of makeup as well as circular sunglasses, even though it was autumn. Star thought she looked so cool. "Whoa," She murmured. When she glanced at the others, she recognised Lars from detention and turned her attention to the other two Oskar hadn't mentioned. The boy with so much hair, it covered his eyes and the girl with multi-coloured pigtails.Star was intrigued at the sight of them and then visibly gulped at the sight of Winston. He stood a tall six feet (although, he was still shorter than Lars) and sported tattoos all over his arms. He wore a hat, covering short black hair and colourful headphones, dangling around his neck. He raised his eyebrow at her and she wondered if he was cold in just a t shirt. He held a can in his hand and it took Star a few seconds to realise she was standing in the way of him."Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," She rushed out of the way. She was so unsure as to why she felt so intimidated. She'd battled warriors and warnicorns twice the size of these students. She had little to no trouble making friends at the school either but these kids seemed very different. She needed her safe kid."Oskar," Winston greeted with a monotone as he sat down, pulling a sandwich from his pocket and smiling at the food."You guys remember Star?" Oskar continued casually, "She was hanging out at 'The Salty Barnacle' the other day," He recalled and Star briefly thought back to when she saw him there with his friends although she didn't realise he had seen her too.After certain events that most definitely didn't involve Star, the restaurant had toned down the pirate theme slightly and brought in the new breakfast menu. Hence, it had grown massively in popularity. More and more high school students frequently went there to hang out and Oskar's friends were no exception."Oh yeah, I think I remember you," Monica responded, looking unimpressed as she lazily lit a cigarette, "You were climbing on the furniture or something,"Star suddenly felt very self-conscious, "Y-yeah," She wasn't used to this feeling and she didn't like it. She stared at the floor in discomfort which disappeared at the sound of Oskar's voice."Exactly," He said, throwing an arm over her shoulder, "She's the coolest girl you'll meet,"She let out an uncontrollable grin at that, although, the words felt sadly familiar."She doesn't care about what anyone thinks of her," He gave her a sidelong glance, "Oh, and she uses magic and stuff," He continued and Star's eyes softened as she smiled at him."No way," Monica sat up curiously."It's true," Lars piped in, "She's broken me out of detention loads of times,""Whoa, that's pretty cool," Winston looked interested."Yeah! Now you've got to show us," Monica leaned forward."I mean, I would but..." Star scratched her arm in defeat. "I don't have my wand,"The group gave her a look of disappointment. Winston turned his attention back to his sandwich and Monica sighed in boredom. Star panicked and quickly added. "But, i could try and dip down?" The others grinned at her enthusiastically. She looked down at her hands. The only time she had dipped down was when she had unlocked her secrets cupboard to free Marco and her wand. She remembered Glossaryck's words. "The circumstances since last time have changed..." Maybe that was a warning? Still, how much harm could it do to try? She braced herself and closed her eyes. "You have to summon everything you have." Suddenly an image of Marco popped into her head and she opened her eyes abruptly, she could feel them glowing alongside her hearts as she uttered a familiar spell, unsure if it would even work."Narwhal...Blast!" Showers of sparkles poured from her hands, sending small narwhals high up into the air and back down again, followed by showers of glistening water droplets. She had actually done it! She could go home and get her wand back as well as her room once and for all!She heard gasps as several students turned to watch the commotion and after the glitter had passed, she saw three gaping mouths, one kid clapping and Oskar's smirk of pride."Told ya," He said simply, pulling the Narwhal from his head and shaking out his soggy hair. The others looked drenched as well. Monica's sunglasses were askew and Lars was still buried by a massive narwhal. Winston just looked speechless but then cleared his throat."Come on, Make some room for the kid!" Marco stared straight ahead of him, trying to organise his thoughts. He had sat down at his desk for class as people filed in and waited for Miss Skullnick."Hey, Marco!" He ignored the voice, "Earth to Marco! You okay?" Janna waved a hand in front of him, "What's with that face?""What?" Marco said slowly."You look like you just watched someone murder your parents,"Marco frowned at her. "So, what's the problem?""Why do you think there is one?" "Why are you avoiding the question?"Marco scowled, she'd got him there. He sighed, not sure how to word how he felt. He was supposed to feel happy. There were a million things he could list as to why this was a good day: Jackie was still texting him, she enjoyed the date, He got an A+ on all his tests and he'd seen Star smile again, properly. Maybe that was the problem; the fact that, even though she had smiled, she wasn't smiling at him.Marco gritted his teeth and smacked his fist on the desk. People were arriving to class and the noise levels grew. No one noticed Marco's small outburst of irritation. Well, no one except Janna. She didn't pry any further though, she just observed him quietly."Hey dude," Alfonzo took a seat in front of Marco, "Did you get a chance to make it up to her?"Marco shook his head, "She was busy...""Busy?""She was talking to Oscar..." Marco sighed, "She looked so happy, I couldn't exactly interrupt,""Well, you should probably talk to her soon, otherwise it'll only get harder trying to initiate a conversation," He reminded him."I know that!" Marco snapped, "I tried okay?"Alfonzo moved back a bit, "Sorry, I didn't mean to-,""Marco, we have a problem!" Ferguson had stopped at his desk, panting for breath, "Star-,""What happened?!" Marco stood up abruptly."Well, I saw her near the parking lot, she was hanging around with Oskar and his friends-," "The delinquents?" Marco froze."Yes," Ferguson wheezed for breath, "Would you stop interrupting!""Sorry, go on," Marco beckoned. "Oh... that was it. I just wanted to say that for dramatic effect,""Dude..." Marco rolled his eyes and then processed Ferguson's words, "Why would she do that! I told her those kids aren't good to be around!" He stressed as Ferguson patted his shoulder. "It's okay dude, she-," Ferguson stopped halfway and Marco looked up at him."What...?" He trailed off as he looked around. Star had walked into the room, looking like her ordinary happy self.All eyes turned on Marco as he narrowed his eyebrows and made his way over to her. By the look on her face, she wasn't expecting him to approach her as quickly as he did and neither did he."Marco-?""Can I talk to you in private?" He interrupted.Star's expression showed confusion and surprise which quickly turned into a frown, "No,""Fine," The word escaped Marco's lips before he could even think about it. He just had to say two words; they weren't that difficult.I'm sorry-."Ferguson told me you're hanging out with the delinquents now," His voice sounded cold and unfamiliar to him.Star narrowed her eyes further, "And what if I am?""Well... you shouldn't, they're dangerous people,"Star scoffed. I should've stayed home with you yesterday."I mean it, you can't seriously tell me you don't remember all the times Lars has beaten up Francis and all the times he still does!" Marco insisted. "And you must have noticed Monica's chain-smoking," He continued, "Even that tall guy probably has a criminal record or something!""Hey!" Star looked like an active volcano about to erupt, "Don't you dare criticize my friends! And 'that tall guy' has a name!""Your friends?""Yeah!"I didn't mean to hurt you."I thought we were your friends," Marco gestured to Alfonzo, Ferguson and Janna."Hey, don't drag us into this!" Ferguson held his hands up defensively.I wish there was some way I could make it up to you."That's it then? I'm that expendable to you," Marco growled.Star met his anger with her own, "I'm going to pretend I know what that means," She hissed under her breath, "And yes, maybe you are!" She finished. Marco frowned and then did a double take. His hurt was all over his face now.Please forgive me, Star."You can't be friends with them!" He tried again, his voice unsteady."Why not?"I'm so sorry."Because they're not good people! They'll get you in trouble and they'll let you down!" Marco persisted but Star looked completely calm for a second, confusing him. The expression she had been wearing all day was back on her face. "It's not like that's a new feeling," She murmured, almost inaudibly, and refused to meet his face.He felt his heart sink."You know what Marco, maybe they aren't ideal people to be friends with... but, you of all people have no room to criticize them!" She snapped at him.Marco stood shocked for a moment. She looked shocked too at her own words. He felt tears begin to well up in his eyes. She's right."Is that right?" He murmured icily. His voice completely foreign to his own ears, "Well in that case, I won't interfere. You can hang out with whoever you want to,""Fine!""Have a nice life, Star," Marco finished, feeling his eyes pool up under the cover of his hair. He left without another word and felt the class's stare burn into his back. Star didn't look at him as he exited the class room.He thought for a minute that it was all a dream. He'd wake up any minute to Star asking for some random thing that had no relation to whatever she was trying to do but somehow, she'd always make it work, Because that's Star.Marco refused to cry, his glassy eyes straining under the weight. He promised himself he wouldn't until he got to the privacy of the bathroom. He swallowed back the lump in his throat and walked."Marco?" Jackie was the last person Marco wanted to see right now, "Hey Jackie," His voice sounded surprisingly calm."What's wrong?" She took a step forward and he stopped in his tracks. "Nothing's wrong," He tried a smile and wiped his eyes on his sleeves, "Uh, it's cold and flu season, I think I'm just coming down with something,""Uhuh," Jackie raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. She paused for a few uncomfortable seconds, "You skipping class? That's not like you," Marco shook his head about to say something but this time the tears were all too real. "M-Marco!" She exclaimed in concerned surprise at his outburst. She rushed in to support him and he held her tightly in return, sobbing into her shoulder."...sorry," He wheezed, his face still hidden."Shh, don't be," She patted his back affectionately, a sullen look on her face. "It's gonna be okay," She soothed.The rest of the day felt like a blur. It was like the calm after the storm. Marco avoided Star and Star avoided Marco. They stayed well away from each other and the people around them noticed all too well.Marco avoided going straight home and wondered around the town, stopping at the park to kill a few hours.Star went straight to the Diaz residence and moved her things to the garage, preparing a makeshift bed, trying to be as silent as she could despite her own tears. She was so consumed in misery, she forgot all about the monster furniture and her new found skill in wand-less magic. Eventually she curled up on the floor in her blanket and let it all out. Her body contorted with the built-up pressure of her sobs. After that she was silent.When Marco finally returned home, it was way past his personal curfew and his parents were sat at the dinner table looking at him in worry as he walked through the door. They knew he was perfectly safe of course, they were worried about him emotionally. He didn't say a word and didn't ask where Star was.To his relief, she wasn't in his room when he lay down for bed and the last thing he heard before he fell asleep was his parents walking to their own bedroom. What happened to us?It was at that moment when Marco fell asleep. Unbeknown to him, were the sounds of recently animate furniture monsters as they rose from their own sleep, clawing and crawling their way out of the tower with chaos written all over their wooden features. It would be a rough night for some. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Friday morning rolled around without so much as a warning. Star had already been up for a while, buried in her small pile of belongings in the garage. She had called Ponyhead for some comfort prior which helped a little but didn't fill the void in her heart."B-fly! I missed your call yesterday!" The unicorn announced through the small handheld mirror, "Is everything okay? You look down, girl," Ponyhead gave her a sympathetic look."Pssh, everything's fine!" Star lied behind her usual cheery tone, "I just wanted to see what you were up to,""Well, me and Kelly went to the bounce lounge yesterday, it was pretty fun girl, I was going to invite you but I thought since it was friendship Thursday, you'd have other plans," Ponyhead winked through the screen."Yeah..." Star trailed off. With everything that happened, she had forgotten all about friendship Thursday.It hadn't even crossed her mind that she could go and get her wand back from the monster furniture now. She kicked herself for not trying earlier but the whole week had completely distracted her. The unintentional abandonment of her wand made her feel... human.The only magic she had used all week was with the delinquents the previous day, excluding her magic mirror of course."Hey Pony, I'll call you back, I just need to sort something out," Star told her and quickly hung up the mirror.She bounded up the stairs and prayed she wouldn't bump into Marco. The sound of running water assured her he was occupied in the shower and she raced past to her own room, kicking the door down as she entered, prepared for a fight.She held her arms in front of her face defensively, panting from her drastic entry. She glanced around at her empty room."Huh?" She took another look around, "That's odd..." It took her a moment to realise, "ALL THE FURNITURE IS MISSING?!" She whirled around. Her bed, her dresser, her fish tank; they were all gone. She had to tell Marco. Then she remembered the argument. That's probably not a good idea.Whatever had happened, she was on her own. "Why on Mewni is there glitter on the floor?" Star observed as she followed the trail all the way to the balcony. She looked up, distracted by the view of the sun as it slowly climbed its way up into the sky."Huh," She shrugged. Upon turning back around, she noticed a familiar gleam. She rubbed her eyes in disbelief, "No... It can't be!" She smiled, bending down to pick up her wand, "Hey there old friend," She moved to pick it up and winced at the slimy monster drool that coated her hands. "Looks like you could really do with a bath..."Star walked to school that day, protectively keeping her wand close to her at all times. She hadn't even seen Marco leave... again. She sighed. No matter how happy she was that she had found her wand again, it didn't seem like much of a celebration without Marco. She narrowed her eyes again, anger fuelling her legs. She thought back to what he said and muttered incoherently to herself."Hey, Star!" She spun around, ready to snap at whoever had interrupted her but her eyes softened."Oskar!" He was driving alongside her in his car and leaning one arm out of the open window as he spoke, the other lazily gripping the wheel."Are you walking to school?" He asked her, blowing the hair out of his face and revealing his mesmerising green eyes that put Star in a coma.Star nodded excitedly in confirmation."Damn, you must have some hella stamina," He nodded in approval, "Sure you don't want a ride?" He gestured to the empty seat next to him and Star widened her eyes in silent enthusiasm."Okay,"When she finally got in and closed the shotgun-side door, she noticed a bunch of glitter in his cup holder."What's this?" She gestured and he glanced down at where she was looking."Oh, that..." He trailed off distractedly, humming to the radio, then remembering he still needed to explain. "look in the back real quick,"She did as he said and peered behind her seat, as her eyes rummaged around the clutter. "What am I looking for?""Behind the seat,"Star glanced down and spotted the most sparkly, glittery Keytar she had ever seen. Her eyes sparkled at the sight, "Whoa,""It's for my costume," He explained, "The jamboree is gonna be wild, so I gotta look the part,"Star nodded in agreement, feeling excitement build up at the reminder of the school dance, "What are you dressing up as?""It's a surprise, what about you?"Star paused for a minute, "I haven't really finished my costume... I wasn't sure whether I was going to go tonight,""What? You of all people have to go! I'll help you with your costume if you want," He flashed her a smile, "Besides, Monica and Winston are probably going to ditch halfway through, someone's gotta help me keep 'em outta trouble,""Really?" Star grinned in excitement."Absolutely!" That morning, Marco left as quickly as possible, intent on avoiding Star. He'd heard her moving around upstairs and quickly finished getting ready. He made it to the bus stop just as it arrived and practically barrelled into Jackie."Hey!" He breathed, panting from the journey."Hey," she greeted and, without warning, grabbed his hand, pulling him down to sit next to her, "You feeling any better?"Marco smiled at her, hiding his discomfort, "Yeah, much... Thank you,"For some reason he couldn't pinpoint, Jackie's hand in his own didn't feel right. His hands were already sweaty from the bus and hers were soft and cold but they felt empty. He wasn't satisfied. He didn't know what holding a hand was supposed to feel like, he only had Star and his mother for reference, he just knew this felt all wrong. He thought about Star's hands. They were always warm and softer than a puppy, a little clammy too, but they were Star's.He shook the thought out of his head, giving Jackie a reassuring smile. That was the moment when the bus arrived at the school.It seemed the strings of fate were not on Marco's side as, when he finally reached the doors to the school, the one person he had been avoiding just so happened to be walking by, staring right at him and his preoccupied hand. Star.He felt the sudden urge to move his hand away but stopped as she carried on walking, an uninterested smile shrouding her face.Marco felt the involuntary frown fall on his face before he could stop it. He straightened up, hoping Jackie hadn't noticed. He didn't want her to get the wrong idea.When Star saw the two, she was surprised. She reminded herself that Marco and Jackie were technically dating now and that she shouldn't care, yet she couldn't suppress a pang of jealousy at the sight of them holding hands. She shook it away as quickly as it came; she had no reason to be jealous. If anything, she was happy for Marco, even though she was still angry at him after the argument.No matter what, he'd always be her best friend... so why did she feel the familiar lump rising in the back of her throat?She spotted Monica and Winston hanging out next to the lockers and called over to them, grinning with enthusiasm. She tried her best to feign excitement but it just didn't seem to be there. They were good friends, with more in common with her than she had expected, but she didn't feel any satisfaction in their interactions. Something was missing. After a surprisingly short day of school, Marco as usual didn't go straight home, which meant Star could sit and finish her costume in peace. She was relieved at that.The sound of a car horn was heard through the garage door and she pulled it open to see Oskar lounging on his car bonnet, exhibiting a very glittery, and very beautiful rock star costume."Oskar!" Star announced, "What are you?" She inquired."A vampire, obviously," He scoffed like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Star gave him a once over. The fangs were the only thing that could possibly give away his costume, and he wore those on a regular basis. At least, Star thought they were fake. She hadn't seen many humans with pointy teeth, but she couldn't be sure. Other than that, he just looked like a more fabulous version of himself, with blue and purple glitter covering almost all of his clothing. His outfit certainly... made a statement, that was for sure."Of course you are!" Star enthused before turning back to what she was doing, "Wait..." She paused and looked at him again, "What are you doing here?""I'm helping with your costume, like I said," He rolled his eyes light-heartedly. "Okay, show me what you have so far,"Star hesitated, she glanced at the mess of sequins on the floor and glue smudges haphazardly dotting a piece of fabric. She sighed, "I don't really know what I'm doing," She admitted, "I haven't been able to come up with any ideas,""Well, you want to dress up as a monster, right?"She nodded."Let me see what I have left over,"He threw open the boot of his car and pulled out a range of things from badges to old band t shirts as they began making the costume. By the time they had finished, Oskar had given Star some privacy to put the costume on, and in all honesty, she didn't have a clue what she was dressed as.The costume included a collage of band t shirts and monster fur with ripped sleeves and bracelets all over her arms, both of which were covered in glitter. It was paired with a blue scaly skirt, lined with more monster fur and stripy black and white tights as well as black cat-inspired shoes. She had covered her face in war paint and even had a pair of black angel wings.Oskar admired her proudly when she revealed herself. "What's with that look?" He asked through his smile at her dumbfounded expression."Don't get me wrong, it's great and all, it's just..." She paused, furrowing her eyebrows, "What am I supposed to be?" She glanced at him half in amusement and half in concern.Oskar stopped and thought for a moment, "You're whatever you want to be," He teased, moving to stand in front of her. He moved his hands to her head and pulled off her red headband."Wha-," Star stopped herself when she realised what he was doing, "What's this?" She asked as he placed the set of purple glittery horns on her head."Now we match," He smirked. Marco glanced around. He'd never felt more awkward until he was sat on Jackie's sofa surrounded by Janna, Justin and Hope as they interrogated him."I just don't understand why I have to be Robin? Even Janna's dressing up as Two Face," He insisted to the others. They had already arranged prior that they were all dressing up as Batman characters and Marco, having belatedly joined the group, was forced to be Robin. "Why can't I be the Joker or something?" He complained."Because we don't have a Joker costume, and we need another hero to balance it out," Janna gestured to the Riddler and Cat Woman costumes half-heartedly, her attention completely distracted by her phone.Marco fidgeted, "Hey Janna?""Yeah?""Do you think you could ask if Star's okay?" He didn't meet her curious gaze before it returned to her phone."Nah, Ask her yourself,""Oh, come on," He pleaded, "After all I do for you,""Still a no, Diaz, now hurry up and put on your costume,"Marco sighed, "Fine," He grabbed the cheap-looking robin costume from her hands, "You're lucky Francis is sick... Where's Jackie's bathroom?"Janna scoffed, "You're lucky Francis is sick, or else you wouldn't have a costume," She corrected, "...and it's second on the right," She informed him with disinterest as she scrolled through her phone again. Little did Marco know, she was in fact, checking up on Star, "Be quick up there, you're not the one who has to put on a second face,""We could always switch-,""No," "Worth a try," He sighed to himself as he made his way upstairs. He had almost completely run out of enthusiasm for the Jamboree; all he wanted to do was watch movies with his best friend.On the way he was interrupted by Jackie, holding a bowl of popcorn under her arm and a tray of drinks in her hand. "Oh, Marco!" She grinned, "Could you give me a hand?" She nodded to the tray."Yeah, no problem!" He reached for the tray as she led the way back into the living room. "Marco, you still not changed yet?" Justin joked."Sorry, I was going to-," He broke off. Jackie had kissed him softly on the cheek in gratitude, causing him to double back. He felt a tidal wave of different emotions all at once as he smiled at her and turned to head back up the stairs. Thankfully, his expression of concern was out of sight and while he tried and tried to deny it, the most prominent feeling he felt was... disappointment. The windows to the gym were lit up with green and orange. Music blasted it's way out of the building, slightly muffled through the walls. The streets were engulfed in shadows, interrupted only by the partially frequent streetlamps. The moon could barely be seen behind the clouds.Marco took a deep breath. He was sat in the back of Jackie's minivan, in between Justin and Janna. As they pulled up outside the gym, the group made their way out of the vehicle, waving goodbye to Jackie's mother as she drove away."Ready?" Jackie asked as she turned to Marco. She was dressed as The Riddler in mostly green with a bowler hat and question-mark shaped staff. Justin was flexing in his Batman costume while Hope had chosen the Cat Woman costume.Janna answered for Marco, "Hell yeah." She was wearing a half black, half white suit with half of her face painted blue. She most definitely had the best-looking costume out of all of them.When Marco reached the door to the gym, he turned around, expecting to see Janna right behind him. "Oh, sorry!" Star had almost walked into him. When did she show up?He almost didn't recognise her in her costume. She was wearing the most glittery outfit he had ever seen and he smiled sadly. He was supposed to help her make it.She hadn't noticed it was him straight away, and visibly froze upon realisation."Ahem," Janna cleared her throat, gesturing to the fact that Marco was standing right in the way of the door."Sorry..." He murmured and stepped aside, allowing the group of students access while trailing behind.He heard a deep voiced 'thanks' pass by, and as he looked, Oskar Greason gave him a small salute as he passed, his arm draped around... Star. Marco's eyebrows furrowed."Come on," Jackie smiled at him, taking his hand and leading him inside. Regardless of the school's extra efforts this year: the costume contest, the increased budget and the undiscovered, but remarkably good band that was playing, Marco's mood did not improve. In all fairness, they'd only been there for a good twenty minutes, yet, Marco had already vacated to the side-lines, sitting at the group's claimed table, fiddling with his empty cup."Diaz, you should come and dance with me," Janna commanded."No thanks," He muttered, "I'm not exactly in the dancing mood,""Oh, come on,"Janna took a seat next to him, "Chin up, kiddo," She teased."Janna..." Marco warned."Sorry," She smiled sheepishly, "Listen, you're acting like you've just had a break up, you could at least try to have fun," She pointed out, "You'll never get past this by moping around,"Marco looked at his hands thoughtfully. She was right... in a way, but it wasn't that simple."You have a point..." He admitted and sighed, "Sorry for being such a downer,""Don't worry about it," She smiled, "I hear they're announcing the group costume results soon, we should go and see who the winners are!" She enthused, "Could be our group, y'know." She joked.Marco rolled his eyes in amusement. He very much doubted that they'd win. Jackie had abandoned her hat and staff within five minutes of arriving and Justin's cape had ripped while he was over-enthusiastically dancing. Even Hope was nowhere to be found. "THE WINNERS, Ahem," Principle Skeeves coughed midway, "Of this year's Jack-O-Jamboree group costume contest are...!" His announcement echoed through the hall from his tiny podium on the makeshift stage.The crowd of students held their breath during the suspense although, it was quite clear who the winners were."Alfonzo and Ferguson!" He read out from the small card in front of him. He then squinted at the following words, "As... Marco's Stop-n-Slurp tab?"A burst of applause erupted from the students as everyone cheered and wolf whistled. The two students in question were wearing giant, what looked like handmade, slurpee cups, fitted with a giant drinking straw shaped hat. Their mobility as they tried to waddle their way to the stage was impaired due to the extensively lengthy scrolls spilling from the costumes and gluing them together via paper bridges. This sight alone generated roars of laughter from the less salty losers of the competition.Marco shuddered. They had certainly chosen the scariest costume."YEAH! ALRIGHT FERG! ALFONZO!" One person cheered, louder than the rest.Marco turned around, already knowing who it was before he laid eyes on her. Of course Star would be the most excited at their victory. He noticed Oskar's smile of pride and felt a strange new feeling in his chest. He didn't deserve to be proud. That was Marco's job."Marco," Someone caught his attention. He turned around to see Jackie, she wore a subdued expression, "Can I talk to you?" She asked. Marco only nodded, unsure of what to say."I know these past few days have been rough for you..." She started. The silence stretched on for so long, Marco thought that was his cue to speak, but she continued. "I just feel like you haven't been yourself,"Marco was caught speechless again."You just haven't seemed... satisfied," She continued, "I can tell you're not happy with..." She paused, "With me,"Marco's head whirled with all this information. Is this a break up?It was overwhelming. He wanted to tell her so many things; that he loved her and cared about her. He wanted to tell her that he was acting selfish and stupid and she was so important to him. She had comforted him all week, hadn't she? He wanted to beg her not to, assure her that he would get past this, but the more he wanted to, the more he knew he couldn't. I'd be lying.He remained silent, staring at her wide eyed. He tried to get his voice to work, but he couldn't.Finally he uttered a simple phrase, yet one he couldn't even manage to his best friend, "I'm sorry,"Jackie gave him a sad smile, "I know this is about Star," She stated, catching him off guard, "Don't worry, I won't hold anything against you," She held her hands up defensively.Marco was prepared to deny what she'd said, "H-how did you know?"What? That's not what he wanted to say at all."Marco," Jackie shook her head in amusement, "I'm not dumb, even I can see that you've been distracted this week... Even when we went to the skate park the other day, she was the only thing on your mind, wasn't she?"Marco tried to words. He couldn't. His mouth felt dry."I know that look Diaz, I've seen it before," She teased, "You should go talk to her,"Marco searched her eyes for a few moments and was brought to a sweeping realisation. He then searched the hall for Star. It didn't take him long.There she was, showing off her wild dance moves in the very centre of the dance floor, like he knew she would be. He smiled and his eyes softened upon seeing her.Reality smacked him across the back of the head like a brick. She was dancing with Oscar. She looked the happiest he'd seen her all week. I can't ruin that, he thought.Marco ducked his head down, his smile vanished as he left the gym hall, to the lonely, comforting quiet of the corridor. Star and Oskar's dancing most definitely was the leading factor in the majority's enjoyment of the usually lame school dance. Some would even say they were busting moves fresher than Skeeves during a 'midweek special'.Star was having the time of her life, yet, it felt oddly disappointing. When her eyes crossed the room and she saw Marco leave, she took a few steps in his direction. She wanted nothing more than him to be enjoying this with her.Her eyes never left the doorway. Not when the slow music started playing. Or when Oskar moved closer to her, twirling her around expertly. She liked dancing with Oskar but something felt... off.Her eyes slid back over to where they were in the room, back up to his eyes. Normally, she'd be passing out at how sparkly his eyes were, but this time, they looked as ordinary as green eyes could.Her mind flashed back to the last time she'd danced like this. She had been staring into the dark eyes of a handsome stranger who, quite literally, had swept her off her feet.Even when she had found out the dreamy stranger was in fact Marco, she hadn't felt disappointed. That whole night had been confusing in itself, she left too angry to notice the feeling beginning to take shape. The feeling that seemed quite obvious to her now. When she returned to the present, recognising her dance partner not to be Marco, and realising that both her and Oskar had started to lean in. She knew what was coming next...She jerked backwards, alarm evident on her face, "Uh, I'm sorry," She murmured, avoiding his eyes.Oskar looked confused for a second, then he scratched the back of his neck. "No... that's okay,""I-," They both said simultaneously but Oskar cut in first. "Really, it's okay Star," He glanced toward the door she'd been so fixated on and then met her gaze once more, "I understand," He nodded slowly before continuing, "Still friends?" He queried."Still friends," She smiled in confirmation, happy that he understood. Then she turned her head to glance back to the door restlessly. "Y'know," Oskar gave her a knowing smirk, "You should go after him,"Star widened her eyes and smiled the biggest smile she could manage, "Really?" Oskar nodded before she barrelled into him, wrapping her arms around his in a tight squeeze. He looked surprised, and then a smile eased its way across his features. He slowly raised his arms to briefly hug her back before she jumped up, giddy with excitement.He cleared his throat, "Go get him, Butterfly!" ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "Marco-o-o?" Star drew out his name, feeling suddenly a whole less confident about finally talking to her best friend again. What if he doesn't even want to talk?Star shook away the thought, she knew Marco better than that."Marco, where are you!" She yelled again as she stopped next to the school's trophy case. Last time she was here, she'd boobytrapped the school football field. It seemed appropriate for her to return to this point the second time she'd messed up on such a large scale.The click of a lock sparked her attention and she turned around in surprise.Found Him.His shoulders were slumped as he rubbed his right arm nervously. Star swallowed nervously; he looked so fragile. His gaze had dropped to the floor and then back up again meeting hers.The world had disappeared: the music from the gym hall, the flashing lights, the whole corridor. The only thing that mattered in that moment was them.They looked at each other. All of Star's confidence had left her behind and she stood speechless. She tilted her head slightly at the sight of him, a small smile creeping its way up her cheeks.Marco opened his mouth, trying to form a coherent sentence. He was way out of his depth here. The space between them seemed too far away and he was dying to close it. His body fidgeted. He took a step forwards, a small one.Star noticed the movement and shuffled slightly, restless with excitement and awaiting another signal.Marco lowered his hands to hang at his sides. They looked open, inviting.Upon his initiation, she rushed in all at once, exactly like he knew she would.The proceeding almost went too slowly and they fought their way past the obstacle of time to meet halfway. It was clumsy, rushed and wonderfully real.She embraced him with so much force, he felt the breath leave his lungs. He didn't need it anymore. She received similar treatment; he was holding her like she was going to disappear.She buried her face into his neck, hiding her face in case her stifled tears were revealed. He reciprocated, savouring the softness of her skin and the sweet scent of her hair against his cheek."I'm sorry," Marco's voice had reduced itself to a whisper. It had cracked as he bit back his sobs. Finally, the words he'd wanted to say this whole time had left his lips. A tsunami of relief washed over him."I'm sorry too," She replied earnestly. Her eyes were wide, panicked, as the idea of actually losing her best friend engulfed her mind and suddenly she was trembling.Neither of them would let go. They stayed like that until it felt like they were no longer separate entities. No words were needed to fill the content quiet; their hold was more than enough.Star was ready to say the next few words that had tormented her mind the past week. They were easy, simple, they...A gurgle interrupted them. Star furrowed her eyebrows in confusion."Was that?" They both pulled back, but not all the way. Their arms remained intertwined in an iron grip. It would take a hurricane to separate them now.Marco finally caught a look at her face and couldn't stop his smile, not even when his cheeks began to ache. He stared in awe, at the golden waterfall of hair that invaded every gap between them, at her kind glowing eyes, her pink glowing cheeks. Wait.She shook away her own trance in his warm brown eyes as she noticed his expression of confusion. "What is it?""Your cheeks," He began. The light coming from them bounced off his face and she moved a hand up to touch them. He'd recognised this once before. This had happened when she'd dipped down.The gurgle sounded again, much louder this time.Star raised an eyebrow, "You hungry?"Marco shook his head, "No I already a-" He was interrupted midway by a sudden roar coming from their right. A large solid object smacked into them, sending Star and Marco flying backwards into the wall, before they could see the source of the chaos.She rolled around in defence, holding out her thin air threateningly. Wait... my wand!?She glanced around wildly, searching their surroundings for the magical object in question. It took her a few seconds but she finally scouted it out next to a locker. There it is! She began crawling away from the crack in the wall and the surrounding rubble, reaching her hand out."STAR-R-R-R!" Marco yelled in fear as he tried his best to karate chop the now very alive monster trophy cabinet. The cabinet opened its doors, hurling its contents straight for him. He ducked to avoid a close-cutting gold plaque that shattered just centimetres from his head. He stared at it in wide eyed panic and turned, frowning at the monster."That all you got?" He taunted, raising his arms in a karate stance, prepared for the second offense.The creature snarled at the challenge, but accepted all the same, sending photo frames and trophies in his direction. He was ready this time, and karate chopped the first two frames, redirecting them to the floor but getting smacked by the third. It was going okay until a trophy passed by and narrowly missed knocking him out."Hold on Marco!" Star called to him as she stood and bounded over to her wand. She picked it up quickly and marvelled in her own small victory, slightly oblivious to Marco, who was currently held against the wall by a very threatening glass door. The monster roared right in his face, sending splinters straight for his eyes as he closed them and winced.When Star whirled around, she froze in utter fear at the sight of her best friend; he was being carried away, trapped in the glass cage of the monster's belly while his muffled screams and fist pounds echoed down the hall.She narrowed her eyes in pure anger, Oh hell no. The soon to be victim of Star's wrath was in for a real surprise. "RABBIT ROCKET BLAST!" She yelled, pointing her wand behind her as a blast sent her rushing into the air after the interior captor. Where on Mewni is it going? She pondered, anger escalating the spell to propel her at an even faster rate. It looked like it was heading for the gym hall.She arrived right behind it, emerging from the doors with a turbulent fighting face on, "LIGHTNING TURTLE RESCUE!" She aimed for the cabinet, intending to change it back to a normal inanimate object. The creature merely spun around to face her and growled, Marco was still trapped inside. She panted for breath, taking a few steps closer and trying again with different variations, "Mending heart hurricane!"By her third try, she had believed the beast to be reversed back into its ordinary state. It seemed fixed and immobile like any other piece of furniture and Star clawed at the door, desperate to free Marco. She tried smashing it with a few Narwhal Blasts but nothing seemed to work.She was so intent on saving him, she had failed to even glance around and notice the repercussions of the monster on the rest of the dance. That was when she heard an unsettling cackle. She knew exactly who that was. She and Marco shared a glance as the monster cabinet came back to life and swallowed whatever was in her right hand.She turned around slowly, looking into the eyes of someone she thought she'd seen the last of. She raised her wand, a blank expression on her face. "Those spells aren't going to work," The ear-splitting voice filled her ears and she grimaced."Ludo," She responded calmly.He ignored her. He was sat upon a giant Mewnian spider, with an eagle perched right behind him, "Your reverse metamorphosis spells have no effect on them," He told her, referring to the furniture pieces she'd tried to change back. He grinned his revolting teeth and Star finally took in the extent of the damage. A giant hole had been torn through the wall; rubble and bricks were everywhere; tables were overturned and students were either trapped within other pieces of furniture, most of which Star recognised to be from her own bedroom, or had already fled. She had been so distracted by Marco, that she hadn't even heard the rest of the destruction take place or notice the wand that Ludo so hopelessly showed off.She glared at him in hatred, "What could you possibly want now, Ludo?" "What could I want?" He repeated and mirrored her expression while cracking his knuckles menacingly. "Star Butterfly," He spat out the words like they were bile in his mouth and glowered at her, his grin gone for a split second, "I want my revenge," He paused to laugh maniacally before elaborating, "You took everything away from me." This time, his beak curled up into an unforgiving grin.His shriek reverberated through the air as he pointed his wand towards her, "And now I intend to return the favour!" Marco watched from the enclosed space of the glass, studying Ludo's words in his head. The furniture taking over her room, Star losing her wand, that was all him? It all clicked in Marco's mind as he understood Ludo's motive; he had lost his castle, the wand, he'd even been sent to a void dimension. No wonder he was angry.Flashes erupted from both wands as Star and Ludo cast perilous spells at each other. If Marco wasn't terrified for his best friend's safety, he'd be amazed by the display of different colours and explosions each one released.He glanced down at something stuck between the monster cabinet's formidable glass teeth. It was small, round and pink. "DAGGER CRYSTAL HEART ATTACK!" He heard Star shout followed by a blast, but he kept his attention on the object, recognising it was in fact Star's compact mirror. But why would she...?A sudden thunderous blast shook the earth and Marco's gaze flew to the cause of the commotion. Star was lying on her back, eyes closed and panting heavily. The spell Ludo had cast, must've been pretty severe and Marco tensed in anger, banging on the glass so hard it would've broken under his knuckles, had the cabinet been inanimate.He recoiled at the pain in his fists as Ludo's spider began to close in on Star when a sudden realisation hit him. Star knew the creature would eat her mirror; it's like a reflex, He thought, so she must've wanted me to have this. He turned over the mirror in his hands, noticing a small lilac button on the back, similar to a reset button on a calculator. There was tiny white writing surrounding the button which read, 'In event of emergency,' and he didn't hesitate in pressing it.I hope this works, he thought in desperation at the sight of Star, however he wouldn't sit tight and wait for help to come to him. No, he was Marco Diaz. He'd help her if it was the last thing he ever did. Summoning all his resourcefulness and logical thinking, he began searching for another way out of the cabinet. Star lay down on the ground, her body aching with fatigue. She hoped by some miracle, something would come and help her out but she quickly shook away the thought. Warriors don't wait for help. No, she would win this one on her own. She craned her neck around so that she was lying on her side and pushed her body up with all her might. Surprisingly, Ludo did not attack her further while she was possibly at her weakest. Instead, he waited for her to stand up again.She stopped in thought for a moment. Ludo had something dangerous on his mind, or he would've blown her up by now. He wanted to take everything away from her, which meant... Oh no."Marco!" She cried, panic flaring up in her eyes as she saw what Ludo was about to do. The spell he was going to cast was dark, darker than any she'd seen in her spell book, and it was aimed right at her best friend. Ludo grinned in satisfaction at the sight of her fear.Having finally found her weakness, he spun around, intent on finishing what he'd started.He did not, however, estimate Star's determination and speed when it came to the people she loved.Star's wand lay abandoned on the wooden Gym floorboards as she propelled herself forward. She would reach him by all and any means necessary. The hearts on her cheeks glowed bright white as she arrived at the glass case... and Marco's confused expression. She stopped and skidded to a halt, right at the moment of impact, her arms outstretched protectively to endure the full extent of the spell and spare her best friend, who was about to see something not even his worst nightmares could summon.Marco blinked, blinded by the light that flooded his view. He trembled in fear at the sudden and traumatic reality.Star Butterfly was... gone? ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The first thing she felt was cold. The air felt thin and she almost thought she was underwater. There was no way to decipher whether she had her eyes open or not, both resulted in the same outcome: darkness. It was a strange sensation, like she was dreaming.Star tried to cast her mind back to how she'd ended up in her current situation. A year could've gone by, or a few seconds. Nothing was certain in the void. It gave her so much time to reflect.She thought of Marco's face: his tender smile, his kind hands, his warm brown doe eyes that made her melt.She thought of the very first time those eyes had looked at her earnestly, when she first came to Earth after she'd given them every reason to scowl at her. She thought about the time she had seen those eyes again, in a new light, a red light: The blood moon ball. They had appeared out of nowhere as he spun her around. At the turning point of her feelings, of course she had recognised them.Her cheeks felt warm and when she glanced down at herself, expecting to see darkness, she felt herself glowing, brightly, like a star. Marco hadn't processed what had happened. How could he? He refused to believe it was all real. Star... had evaporated. She was gone from existence.Just as he lost all hope, as he was about to give up and let the cabinet digest him, or for Ludo to cast a spell and finally be rid of him, he heard a sudden disruption."NAAAYYYY!" A whinny detonated from above, as a sparkly murderous looking pony charged straight for Ludo. Ponyhead?Before Marco could comprehend what had happened, a second disruption sounded from behind him and the cabinet was thrown to the side in flames. The demon behind the flames seemed to be unaware of Marco's capture inside as he let out a booming roar.The horse head swirled around in surprise at Tom's outburst.Fury was embedded in both of their eyes as they shared a nod and shot both destructive glares towards the perpetrator as they charged, sending daggers of fire and glitter right at him.Marco glanced around, trying to find a way to assist the deliriously angry attackers. His eyes honed in on Star's wand and then a wild idea popped into his head.Adrenaline elevated his strength as he tried to pry apart the glass teeth doors that encased him. He mustered everything he had in his own battle to open the prison, slicing his hands open at the strain against glass. He ignored the droplets of blood; he was going to get out of here."TOM!" Ponyhead yelled as she was exposed to the giant spider's attack, "FREE THEM!" She referred to the furniture imprisoning the students as she tried to trap the spider beneath a capsized table, "FIND MARCO!"Her trap seemed to fail so she fled one way, avoiding a nasty jab from the spider's legs and ducking out of the way of its companion's swooping talons. She panted for breath before jetting out of the way again as an unexpected set of pincers pounced on her."RIGHT," Tom agreed behind his deathly white anger-induced glare and he swirled around, altering his aim to target the furniture.He smashed them open one by one with fiery blasts, releasing the majority of hostages, but he still couldn't find Marco. Despite his blasts, the enchanted accessories did not revert back to their insentient selves; their attacks instead were now aimed at the demon and had amplified ten-fold.Tom was powerful enough to hold them off with ease, providing an effective distraction, but he could not support Ponyhead in her face off against Ludo's associates. Some of the students had even adjourned fleeing to help, including Janna and Jackie as well as Oskar, Monica and Winston. They were doing well.It was only at that point when Tom's attention turned back to Ludo. He's about to flee, he thought.Ludo wore a strange expression, like he had done something so awful, he couldn't comprehend the consequences. Tom stopped in thought for a moment; he still didn't know where Star was.The bird monster's eyes were ablaze with what looked like deep rooted guilt forcing Tom to presume the worst.He swung his arm to summon a wall of fire, blocking the path of an offensive lamp and armchair and allowing him to keep his attention on the small beaked villain.Ludo's tiny arms shook as he raised his dimensional scissors, about to slip away when a narwhal blast crashed right into him, knocking him off the gym hall's broken stage he had previously roosted upon.Star! Tom thought as he whirled around, expecting to see the undefeatable princess.What he saw however, made him double take.It wasn't Star with the wand, but... Marco? "MARCO!" Ponyhead called to him and he turned his attention to her, raising Star's wand with inaudible threat towards the degenerates tailing her. He sent a series of spells he'd heard Star use, towards the bird and the spider, causing his skin to crawl in discomfort. He shook his head in reflex, cringing at the new pain that coursed throughout his body.His efforts seemed futile, doing nothing to alleviate the pain and he ducked down, holding his chest."MARCO?" He heard the voice repeat, this time in confusion."No! He's getting away!" That was Tom's voice. Marco raised his head, narrowing his eyes in rage at the portal that had been opened. Tom looked towards the portal and then back at the cowering brunette. He hesitated on his next choice before shaking his head and rushing over to Marco. The karate kid was dazed as Tom picked him up to stand on his two feet."Marco! You've got to pull yourself together, man!" Tom glanced at the suffering boy and then moved his gaze down to the wand. "Drop it, Marco," He warned.Marco shook his head, drowning in fury."You're not Mewman, DROP IT!" Tom shook the boy slightly. When that didn't work, he raised the first two fingers of his right hand, moving them in a small motion to send the wand from Marco's hands to the floor without coming into contact with it.The distraction was enough to allow Ludo to get away.Marco coughed, his purple scaly skin beginning to revert to its ordinary state. Tom gave him a small pat on the back as he dejectedly sighed."NO!" Ponyhead wailed after the now absent Ludo, intending to charge her way through the fabric of reality to hunt down her best friend's slaughterer."Pony!" Tom called after her, "It's no use," He dipped his head in the now apparent knowledge that Star was gone."No! Damn it," She muttered, dropping her gaze. She turned around, reflexively darting aside to narrowly avoid an attack from Star's dresser.Upon her own distraction, Ludo's eagle had picked up the spider beneath its talons and flew out of the breach in the hole, where it had once come. It didn't get away easy, however, as a couple of indignant students, including Alfonzo and Ferguson, charged after it, angry at their ruined school dance.Marco just sat, motionless. Tears were streaming down his cheeks at the brutal nightmare he had yet to wake up from."She's gone, isn't she," He breathed. Tom just gave him a look of condolence, "I... I don't know,""No, she's not!" Ponyhead objected as she flew over to join them. She angrily snatched Star's wand from it's place of desertion, "Not yet,""What are you talking about?" Tom queried, "Where is she?"Ponyhead ignored him and charged straight for Star's dresser, the source of all the chaos, as she neighed through her teeth, "Lightning turtle rescue!"Marco blinked in confusion. Star's spell hadn't worked before, so why did Ponyhead casting the same one suddenly change it back to its harmless original form.His eyes trailed across the rest of the room; one by one each mutated furniture piece changed back to normal. Everything was back to normal. Except it wasn't, Star was still gone. Marco glanced down at his gashed hands and held them close to him for security as Ponyhead returned to their point, panting for breath and dropping the wand quickly.Marco studied her carefully, hesitantly wiping the dried tears that marked his face. She looked like she knew something Marco didn't and his heart ached to cling to the small hope that Star was still alive. Yet... no matter how much he wanted to believe it, he couldn't. "This is all my fault,""No!" She interrupted, "Don't you dare give up now, Marco Diaz!" She snorted, glaring daggers at him, "We don't have time to give up!" "Why?" He spat, "Star's gone! She's never coming back and this wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been so selfish!""Marco," Tom tried, his eyes were filled with pity.Ponyhead didn't waste any time replying. She belched, regurgitating a set of dimensional scissors."The spell that Ludo cast," She began, "That was the fading spell, wasn't it?"Marco shrugged.She shook her head in irritation at Marco's disengagement, "Did she disappear into thin air or not?""I guess?""Then she's in the void,""The void?" Marco and Tom echoed."Yes, and we have to hurry!" What Ponyhead was saying made some sense. Marco tried his best not to doubt her theory, but at this point, it just seemed like wishful thinking. Still, if there was any way to get Star back, he'd do it... or die trying.That's why, when the predicament came along as to who would enter the void to find her, Marco volunteered almost instantly. Ponyhead and Tom knew not to argue by the serious expression on his face; it would take an army to stop him now.He stared at the portal. Ponyhead had explained how once you were in the void, you only had a matter of time and if he couldn't find Star he should consider returning before he disappeared too. He nodded in understanding, inhaling deeply and taking a step closer. He didn't know what he'd do if he couldn't find her but if that was the case, he wouldn't want to come back.He glared into the inky black space: the thief of his best friend, and after sheathing his dimensional scissors safely within his hoodie, he stepped inside.As gravity dissipated, he felt more like he had just fallen into the ocean. His body drifted. He couldn't tell whether he was going in a single direction. He'd even lost his measure of distance since the portal he came from had disappeared as though it were never there to begin with.He was left in the empty cold darkness of nothing. The atmosphere seemed to tease at his sanity and calm him all at the same time. Even his consuming sense of loneliness seemed further refined here."Star!" He called out to which there was no response. His voice sounded small and brittle against the intimidating vast space.He closed his eyes, getting lost in the silence. He imagined he was holding her again, feeling her soft warm skin in his arms. There was so much he hadn't told her yet... so much he wanted to say. This couldn't be the end. He wouldn't accept that.He thought back to all the times they laughed together; when she got swallowed by a magical fish to cheer him up; when she unleashed his hat hair after the blood moon ball; when she read out that cheesy fortune cookie after finding out they weren't real. He smiled to himself; he loved the sound of her laugh, and the motivation to hear it again was enough to drive him onwards.Something told him he was getting closer, and while he couldn't even see his own limbs in the darkness, he did see a spot of light.It was so far away, he could've mistook it for a hallucination. An unknown underlying force drew him towards it. He didn't understand the mechanics of the void; there was nothing that could cause his body to move, yet somehow it did.He reached his hands out and this time, he could see them. Reality became significant again and he leaned, impatiently trying to close as much space between himself and the spot as he could.Gradually, the spot of light became a smudge. He tried to readjust his untrained eyes to focus on it. The closer he drifted towards the smudge, the more it began to resemble a star: his Star.Her whole body glowed with an unnatural light all the way to the very tips of her hair and, to his delight, Marco was the only one at the mercy of seeing her in such a delicate and beautiful form.He was completely captivated by her.He reached out as far as his body would allow, desperate to grasp her hands, her arms, her face, anything he could. Her hair swirled around like interrupted liquid as he drew ever closer. "Star!" He yelled once more. He was euphoric.Her eyes opened, slowly, dizzy, as though she'd been asleep. She recognised the voice immediately, and didn't have to look around to find him.She met his gaze magnetically, instinctively imitating his reaching gesture as they drifted closer, but not close enough.If time fell apart, and Star was stuck in this single moment, she would not be disappointed. Seeing the warm and comforting eyes of her best friend with his arms outstretched for her, filled her with the strongest sense of joy she had ever felt. She couldn't place the sensation in words.They were almost there, grazing fingertips slightly, and then they fell together all at once, buried within the limbs of one another.The embrace echoed their own journey. While it was long and unbearably rough, it was driven by endearment: the kind she considered thoroughly, undisputedly worthwhile.They were the light in the abyss. When they resurfaced, the faces around them seemed irrelevant. Star was still dazed from nearing nonexistence and Marco wouldn't release his grip around her. He trembled with relief as he held her, fully aware of her reciprocated clasp around his shoulders. He was laughing, and so was she. He was crying, and then so was she.He tilted his head to kiss the heart on her cheek with more force than he thought he could summon. The act was so small, so simple, yet it sent tremors through Star. Her hearts lit up once again, brighter than ever before and she dropped her face on Marco's shoulder, removing them from view."Star!" His body contorted with sobs but he couldn't stop himself from saying her name, loving the way it rolled off his tongue."Marco," She responded meekly, overwhelmed with happiness.Ponyhead burst into tears and head butted Star, who in turn finally parted with Marco to hug her friend. Marco however, insisted on joining in and even invited the lonely and inconspicuous looking Tom who also needed some well-deserved affection.No one knows when the students of Echo Creek had surrounded the cuddle puddle but, upon finding Janna suddenly in the middle of it, eyeing up Tom, they refrained from joining in. Well... all except Oskar.The girl in question had already honed in on her victim."Well, well, well, what do we have here?""Huh?" Tom glanced around and then pointed at himself with uncertainty.A grin slid its way up her face, "Do you have a phone, Hot Sauce?" She winked."Uhh..." Tom glanced at Star and Marco in concern, asking with his eyes 'What do i do?'.When everyone's attention shifted back to Janna, she was holding Tom's phone and typing into it. Tom looked back at his friends, startled, to which they burst out laughing and Marco simply shrugged."You should call me," She smiled, putting his phone down and sliding away.His expression looked like a battle between hesitancy and flattery and his cheeks were tinted pink as he rushed to retrieve his phone, scrolling through it in bewilderment. Star and Marco giggled and brought their gazes back to look at each other. Their arms hadn't moved an inch from encasing each other and their eyes softened."I hate to interrupt," Monica cleared her throat, "But like... What the hell just happened?" "I was gonna ask the same thing," Ferguson ogled Monica as he spoke, "One minute we were just chilling as winners do and then suddenly, BOOM," He made an explosion gesture with his hands.A chorus of agreement was heard before another voice continued, "Yeah... that dance went from one to a hundred real quick, dude," Winston stated with a perplexed look on his face.Marco glanced at Star and they both took a deep breath, trying to formulate a decent explanation for the sceptic party-goers."Well...""What happened was...""IT'S ALL MY FAULT, OKAY, THERE I SAID IT!" They turned to the drama queen, Ponyhead, who flinched away from what she thought were critical glares."Pointy-head?" Marco tilted his head to one side, "What do you mean it's your fault?""Also, how did you know to come find us?" Star added, "I was expecting mom or someone,"This time it was Ponyhead's turn to look confused, "Expecting? But girl, I've been keeping tabs on you this whole-,""All I know is, I got an emergency call," Tom cut in. "Wait, wait, wait... What was Ponyhead going to say," Marco narrowed his eyes."Oh! My compact mirror must've mixed up 'Call mom' for 'Call Tom' again," Star suddenly realised."Why would it-?""Eh, I dunno, autocorrect,""Everyone be quiet!" Marco snapped, his arms folded as his eyes interrogated Ponyhead. She gave a sheepish smile in response, "Well... It's a long story,""We have plenty of time,"She took a deep breath, "It all started when I... borrowed... Star's wand," This caught Star's attention, "What, why?""I used the metamorphosis spell... on her dresser,"Janna spat out the tea she was drinking in shock. "Janna, where the hell did you- you know what never mind, Pony, why did you-?""Well... It wasn't meant to last so long, I was gonna change it back! I just... misplaced the wand," She danced around the question."All been there, am I right?" Star grinned towards the others."I thought, if Star had to... borrow some of your clothes, you'd get the hint, y'know, and then Ludo caught on and used this 'mimicking' spell and blah blah blah, tried to destroy the school..." Ponyhead continued off on a tangent.Marco's face went as red as his hoodie as he stared at her. He visibly 'noped', fully aware of what was coming next."Wait, that clothes thing is a tradition on Uni too?" Star pondered, "Then you were trying to set us up! Oh Ponyhead, ya big goof," Star giggled, "Wait," Understanding washed over her like a tidal wave as her face flushed.Ponyhead had caught the two at a checkmate and knew what her final move would be... "Girl, you look cute in red; Marco said it himself!"That was it, she'd finally broken them. Marco just stared wide eyed, cheeks redder than the blood moon, trying to formulate words. The words wouldn't happen. He was left opening and closing his mouth like a bewildered fish. "Wha-... W-Wha-..."He had no way to confirm or deny that statement. Star on the other hand had sunk into the floor, trying to control the smile on her warm tinted cheeks as she covered it with her hands in embarrassment before she burst out laughing. "Oh Ponyhead, you-" She wheezed for breath, "You-," She stopped there, quite literally rolling on the floor laughing. The sound initiated a small but clear smile on the Diaz boy's face. Ponyhead whinnied in delight at their expressions; her work here was done.Or was it? ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The early hours of the Saturday morning crawled along, yet neither Star nor Marco could sleep after the wild events of the night. They instead, had spent the time reminiscing and catching up on the rooftop of the Diaz residence before Marco finally brought up the subject that had been plaguing his mind."Star, about the other day..." He hesitated, unsure how he should continue, "I didn't mean to ditch you... I-," He hung his head."It's fine Marco, Jackie's a lucky girl, I'm really happy for you," Star gave him the biggest smile she could muster, trying to assure him that she was telling the truth."No, that's not-,""When's your next date going to be?""Well that's the thing... there's not going to be one," He confessed and she glanced towards him in confusion."What, why not?""We talked... and while I still think she's amazing, we don't really have a lot in common," Marco began, yawning and lying back on the roof tiles.Star studied him for a moment, silently admiring him in the soft glow of the moon. He was still wearing the adorable yet ridiculous Robin costume and while Star would never admit it, she thought he looked enchanting.She moved to flop down beside him and managed to bury the majority of his face in her ocean of blonde hair. "Oops, sorry," She tried her best to pry away her hair but accidentally grazed his face with her hand.Star glanced at it in shock, feeling the heat of Marco's cheeks beneath her fingertips but being powerless to stop them as they rested there.It was a rare occasion that allowed Marco to harmlessly explore her eyes without worrying about what she might think of him doing so.She moved her hand abruptly as she turned to look up at the sky again as the first light of dawn emerged from the horizon, letting her arms fall on her stomach. "So, you don't... like Jackie anymore?"Marco shook his head, keeping his gaze on her and murmuring a barely audible, "Not really, no," His gaze softened sadly as he nervously inquired, "I noticed you and Oskar were dancing together... Are you?""Nah," This time it was Star's turn to shake her head. She let out a breathy laugh, "He's a lot of fun, but... it just didn't feel quite right,""Right," Marco agreed, a smile falling back onto his face, "It's like, they make you happy but...""...You're not quite satisfied," Star finished, turning to beam at her best friend."Exactly,""For what it's worth," Star continued, sending a flirtatious smile in his direction, "Dancing with Oskar was nowhere near as fun as dancing with you," Between her smiles, a brief look of alarm flashed on her face, as though she didn't expect to say that out loud."Oh really?" Marco raised an eyebrow, relishing in newfound confidence.Star chuckled, trying to pass off her revelation as a joke. It didn't take long for Marco to join in, setting them off on an endless cycle of laughter.After the moment died down, they drew their gazes up at the sky. They sighed, half, in shortness of breath from the exertion of laughing, half, in awe."The stars are beautiful," Star stated with dewy eyes, reaching her hand up to fit around the moon."Yeah," Marco breathed, his gaze had never left her for a second. He cleared his throat, his eyes trailing along her arm to gaze at what she was looking at.Hours seemed to have passed by before Marco broke out of his trance, causing Star to do the same.His head swirled with inspiration from gazing at the moon and he met her eyes straight on. "Uh... There's been another girl on my mind recently," He saw her eyes flicker with confusion and realised he'd sprung on the topic too quickly, "I mean... romantically,"Her eyes widened in understanding and she practically jumped on him, bombarding him with questions, "OH MY GOSH! Who is she? Do I know her? How long have you liked her?" "Careful!" Marco grabbed her waist to hold her still, stopping her from falling headfirst off the top of the house, "We're on a roof, remember!" He scoffed and closed his eyes in disbelief, only to open them and stifle laughter at the expression on Star's face. "Sorry, I just don't wanna wake up mom and dad,"Star nodded eagerly, "Right, right, of course!"Marco grinned, and to Star's dismay, kept his hands firmly locked in place."Uh," She glanced down at them and then back up quickly, "You were saying?""What was I saying?" Marco responded... dreamily before snapping out of it, yet his hands didn't move. "Uh, yes!"This time it was Star's turn to raise her eyebrows. She decided to go out on a whim, "Actually... there's been someone on my mind too,""Really?" Marco furrowed his eyebrows, "Who?""I'll tell if you do,"Marco visibly gulped, "I don't think that's a very good idea,""Why not?""Because I love you,""You- wait-," Star's whole body seemed to turn bright red, even her hair. "Y- what?" She was speechless.Marco just stared at her anxiously, as his hands began to tremble. "I..." His voice had lowered considerably. All the confidence he had before, seemingly gone. His heart leapt for miles in his chest and he sunk under her gaze.Star glanced between his eyes, beaming the biggest smile he'd ever seen. Her eyes were glassy and she looked like she was holding her breath, about to explode from delight. She wanted nothing more than to hear him say it again and to say it herself. "I do... too!" Marco's eyes lit up."You do?""I love you!" Star nodded encouragingly at her own words, shaking like a sugar rush."Cool!... Uh!" Marco's excitement turned in to panic at his awkward choice of words and a new feeling overwhelmed him. He avoided her gaze and kept his eyes safely on an extremely interesting tile."So... are you busy Thursday night?" Star asked, interjecting his eye contact with the tile.Marco tried to come up with something witty to say, "I mean... I don't know, it's friendship Thursday, I've already got a date with my best friend,""Oh, of course! I almost forgot," Star giggled, adrenaline heightening her nervousness. "Heh heh, she must be pre-e-e-etty special,""Yeah, she is," Marco's eyes burned into her, a cheeky smirk filling his face."That's t-too bad," Star wavered nervously, trying to mimic his suave demeanour. Her grin quickly became a pout as she continued, "I guess I'll just have to arrange something with Ponyhead inste-,"She had every intention of finishing that sentence but unfortunately, she was quite rudely interrupted.In the midst of her words, his hands had somehow made their way up to her cheeks, where they traced over her hearts, quite leisurely. At this point, she forgot how to breathe, and then, so did he.The next sequence of events happened in rapid succession yet, the moments that passed felt like hours. She brought a single hand up to caress his hair, relishing in the unexpected softness before removing it. His hands seemed content holding her hearts, which in turn had begun to glow. He took that as his cue to close the space.When Star thought about the moment she'd want to be stuck in if time stopped, she rendered herself mistaken at her previous answer. No, this moment, above all, was the one she never wanted to end.Marco's face crashed into hers as their lips met magnetically. She responded with an unexpected amount of force and wholeheartedly leaned in like he was going to disappear. While Marco tried to take the lead, it was clear who was dominating the gesture and Star did not yield. No longer were the hearts upon her cheeks the only two that lit up. Marco felt himself melt in her grasp and his own beating heart became an earthquake.He opened an eye slightly, checking that he wasn't tripping on jellybean hallucination mist and this was in fact real life. When he could confirm that it was, everything felt complete.Star felt his cheeks curve up beneath the kiss, he was grinning like an idiot and couldn't help himself. It didn't take her long to realise she was doing the exact same.They parted briefly for breath but neither retreated any further than a couple of inches. Marco couldn't suppress the urge to reach out and memorise every detail of her face beneath his fingertips and Star in turn brought her hands to his chest comfortably, feeling the drumming of his heart against her own palms. They kissed once, and then twice more. The interactions were awkward, clumsy, everything at once and so very real.It became apparent to the two of them that in regards to kissing, they had barely skimmed the surface of the hobo gravy.Still, they'd have plenty of time to dip down. It was the start of a new term and the food hall buzzed with life. For the most part, school was back to normal: Star and Marco sat at a table with Ferguson, Alfonzo and Janna, making bets on who could fit the biggest taco in their mouth without chewing. It was wild.Star and Marco didn't know what to call their relationship. To everyone else, they were still best friends (which was true) and to the more observant, it had already been decided that they were made for each other. It was as though nothing changed.They still kicked monsters' butts, crossed dimensions and ate nachos, but this time, they were even closer than before. This time: their casual outings to Brita's tacos and their movie nights in looked a lot less like two friends hanging out and a lot more like two people on a date. They sat side by sat, grinning as their hands secretly found each other under the cover of the table, all while listening to one of Janna's unbelievable stories."...And as you can see, this, right here in my hand, is the legitimate horn of a demon,""Is that... Tom's?" Marco sent an uncomfortable glance in Janna's direction as she grinned."Pssh, I wish,"The table looked mildly concerned. Star was the first to burst out laughing."How did you even get that?" Marco asked, unconvinced. "How long have you two been making out?""Whoop, there it is!" Ferguson cut in. Alfonzo spat out his tea that he suddenly had been drinking.Marco shook his head in dismissal, but low-key shuffled closer to his best friend. Star just gave a sheepish smile."You can give up the act now, everyone knew for like a month," Janna informed them disinterestedly as she scrolled through her phone, taking a bite of her taco."Everyone?" They both murmured anxiously.Janna nodded, "Since that time you both wore matching clothes, you dorks,"They flinched at the unsettling realisation. The whole school had been conspiring against them!While Marco was processing Janna's statement, he cast a glance towards Star and then as their eyes met, they couldn't hold it in much longer...They erupted into fits of laughter.
10628577	Make Easter Bright and	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Molly Hooper, Greg Lestrade", "Fandom": "Sherlock (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by ChrisCalledMeSweetie", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-15T00:00:00", "words": "122", "Additional Tags": "Fluff", "Relationship": "Sherlock Holmes/John Watson", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "The Ballads of John and Sherlock", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Here comes John on Sherlock’s tail Hot upon the suspect’s trail Solving crimes while Easter’s on its way Bringing every crook and thief Baskets full of woe and grief That’s how they will spend their Easter day They’ve got corpses here for Molly Culprits collared for Lestrade There’s a gang of thugs, by golly And some cons committing fraud Oh, here comes John on Sherlock’s tail Making sure good will prevail That’s how they will spend their Easter day When they’ve finished with their cases They’ll go home to Baker Street There will be a few embraces And some kisses, soft and sweet Oh, here comes John on Sherlock’s tail Living out a fairytale That’s how they make Easter bright and gay
10670445	Saved From Hell	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron), Hunk (Voltron), Pidge (Voltron), Matt Holt, Shiro (Voltron), Sendak (Voltron), Keith's Family (Voltron)", "Fandom": "Voltron: Legendary Defender", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by TheRedPaladin101", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-19T00:00:00", "words": "10,115", "Additional Tags": "Mer!Lance (Voltron), Mer!Pidge (Voltron), Mer!Hunk (Voltron), Mer!Matt (Voltron), Pirate!Keith (Voltron), Pirate!Sendak (Voltron), Kidnapping, Character Deaths, Torture, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Smut, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Mermaid Sex", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Keith/Lance (Voltron), Keith & Lance (Voltron)", "Series": "Saved From Hell Series", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Keith only remembers two things from top to bottom; the ship and ocean. Ever since he could remember, he's been surrounded by the lovely blue waters lapping up against his home known as the 'Galra Empire' Ship. He never understood the name, but he never asked. He was too scared to. He knows every one of the members on the ship. From their eye color to their darkest fears. Since he was a kid, he was able to let out his curious mind to the whole crew. No one seemed to care for the most part. He was the youngest on board. He had no father, and his mother was second in command. The captain of the ship was named Sendak; a giant buff man with a large mechanical arm and an eye-patch over his eye. Keith wasn't there for it, but he heard stories of Sendak losing his arm in a battle and forced some land people to give him an arm. From what Keith knew, it was the same year that he was conceived. Stories of his family have reached his ears multiple times when he was only five. He was often called a land child, which confused him greatly. His mother never explained to him why they called him that. However, Sendak was glad to tell him the story. On the beach where he got his arm, Keith's mother had an affair with one of the land people on the night they were there. She merely passed it off as a one night thing, but then she found out she was pregnant with Keith weeks later. Concerned with her child's safety on the ship, she convinced Sendak to take the back to the beach she met the man. Sadly, he hasn't been seen since the night they were first there. "But," Keith began, rocking on his heels, "I thought mama said captain was my papa..." Sendak had a twisted smile curl onto his lips. Keith could see a few golden teeth in the back. "She did, huh? Well, I sure as hell am not your father, little guy. Go run along and bother someone else." "Okay!" Keith smiled and ran down the wooden stairs and onto main deck, large eyes scanning around for his mother. She was nowhere to be seen. Huffing lightly, Keith instead ran to the edge of the ship and stood on his tippy-toes, peering down into the ocean. The water was darker than usual, but it was still very peaceful. He blinked in surprise, tilting his head when he saw something move in the water. He stuck out his tongue a little, straining to lift himself up above the railing, keeping himself up by his arms. His squinted his eyes, determined to spot the flicker of movement again. The waves grew a bit stronger as Keith continued to stare at the water. He leaned forward more, feeling his heart pound a bit when he saw a tail in the water. Maybe a shark? "Hey, Unc! I think I found a Megalodon!" Across the ship, a tall skinny guy pulled a cigarette out from in between his lips, rolling his eyes at the kid. "Sure, whatever you say," he looked over the side of the ship, putting the cigarette back to his lips. Keith grinned and looked back down, searching for the tail again. If he could see the fins, he'd know it was a shark for sure. Though, once he leaned back over, the ship rocked to the side roughly, strong waves hitting Unc's side of the ship. A whirl of wind and blurry vision of sky and ocean then Keith hit the water. Keith snapped his eyes closed, the salty water burning his eyes immediately. His head popped up, heart pounding and ears ringing. He couldn't open his eyes. He could barely hear the loud "Man over board!" He let out a scream, wave washing over him and dragging him under. Keith has yet to be taught how to swim properly in the ocean, considering he was only five. He was panicking. Was he going to die? Would he drown and wash up somewhere alone? Is his mother even trying to save him? Slick arms wrapped around his small body, pulling him close to a broad chest. Keith still didn't dare to open his eyes. He gasped and coughed when his head broke the surface, hair sticking to his forehead and tears of slight pain and fear running down his cheeks. He rubbed one of his eyes, his other hand gripping the shoulder of his savior. He peeked open his eye, vision blurry with tears. He made out after a few blinks what saved him. It was a boy, just a few years older than him, with soaked light brown spiky hair and wide brown eyes. His mouth was moving but Keith couldn't make out his words, the waves too loud for his ears. "Oh god- get that thing!" Keith looked up at the sound of Sendak's voice. He squeaked in fear when a net surrounded him and his savior. The boy holding him seemed to be panicking more, but he didn't let go of Keith. They were lifted out of the water slowly, making the boy squirm in fear. He felt something slimy and scaly brush against his legs, widening his eyes when he looked down to find a dark brown merman tail. "Bring it up! I want that creature in my storage!" "W-Who are you?" Keith whimpered, staring at the boy. He looked down at Keith, wobbling in the net. His eye seemed to soften, his hold on Keith gentle. "I won't hurt you," he spoke slowly. "I'm Matt." He smiled when Keith tilted his head curiously. He winced in pain when his back hit the deck, still holding Keith on his chest. When the net was thrown off, Keith was ripped away from Matt by his mother. Right when Keith was free from Matt's grip, Matt rolled onto his stomach and snarled at the men surrounding him, teeth suddenly sharper than earlier. Keith almost flinched. Matt swiped his hands at them, nails growing longer and sharper along with his fins on his spine and upper arms. He slammed his tail into two of the men, knocking them over. He began to scoot his way backwards towards the edge of the ship, yelping in pain when Unc hit him in the back with his boot. Matt snarled and turned on him, not seeing Sendak come up behind him with a net. Once it was thrown over him, Matt hissed and twisted around in it, getting tangled up and trapped. When he realized he truly was trapped, he slumped over and gave up, glaring at the men smirking down at him. "He'll be worth a pretty penny," Sendak chuckled. "You two, take him to storage. We're heading for land." Keith was in awe when they arrived to the docks, eyes wide and smile spreading. He was excited to explore the vast expansion, which explains why he was bouncing on his feet and tugging at his mother's hand. "Come on, mama! I want to see the people here!" "Slow down," she squeezed his hand. "We have all night to explore." She kneeled down in front of him when his bouncing stopped, looking down in slight disappointment. "Hey, how about I take you to the park near the beach? Heard there are many young ones there to play with." She wiggled her eyebrows, knowing she caught his interest. Keith grinned, the light in his eyes back. Sendak rolled his eyes but didn't stop her, looking around instead for some traders. Hoping to keep Keith away from the merman, she guided him down onto the dock and off the ship. Keith gasped when his bare feet hit the sand, squealing a bit as he jumped around, his hand leaving his mother's. She shook her head in amusement, looking around the beach. Many people strayed away from the docks when they arrived, dragging their children out of the water and under the shade of their beach umbrellas. Keith grinned and spread his arms out to the side, leaning forward and running around. Sand sprayed around his feet, small 'brrr' sounds leaving his pursed lips. "Keith, come on!" Short hair swaying as he whipped his head around, Keith's eyes glowed in the setting sunlight. He ran back over to his mother, walking alongside her as they headed down the beach. They didn't come back to the ship till around one in the morning. Keith yawned sleepily, his head resting on his mother's shoulder. The rest of the crew were partying on the ship, bear in cups and some on the ground. Keith couldn't really process why they were so happy. When Keith was woken up the next morning, he was horrified to find that the merman boy named Matt was traded out last night, hence the party. But what they all received was ten pounds of gold and a boy who seemed older than Matt. Keith examined him from the doorway to the lower deck. The boy was leaned back against the mast, hair black and shorter than Keith's. His eyes were dark grey and cold, staring out at the land where he was just last night. Keith noticed his right arm was very similar to Sendak's, though it was smaller. He looked around and left the doorway, creeping his way over to the boy. He looked up at him, noticing he hasn't been noticed. "Excuse me." The boy jolted a bit and looked down at Keith, raising an eyebrow. Keith pointed at his right arm. "How did you lose your arm?" The boy stared at Keith for a moment, a small smile appearing on his lips. "Ah, a shark bit it off a few years ago. My... some guy fixed this up for me and it works just fine." He pushed off of the mast, setting his hands on his hips. "My name's Shiro." Keith grinned, eyes shining. "I'm Keith." "Mother!" Keith's shrill scream echoed throughout the entire ocean, making mother nature have a heart attack. Keith, now ten years of age, stared with wide eyes at the scene before him. Sendak looked back at Keith, eyes narrowed and lips formed in a tight frown. Keith didn't know what to do. There, right in front of him, was his mother with Sendak's sword in her chest. She turned her eyes to Keith, blood seeping past her lips as she choked. Shiro grabbed Keith when he moved to run forward, tears in his eyes. "What have you done?! You bastard!" Sendak ripped his sword from her chest, turning to face Keith. "What have I done?" His mother's body fell to the ground with a thump. "I just finally got rid of this traitor. I'm tired of her and her stupid complaints about how her child isn't safe on board. My my... she was a terrible wife." Keith's eyes widened, heart dropping. Sendak pulled out a cloth and wiped his sword off, nodding his head at him. "I should kill you, really. But I got a better punishment for you. You know, you shouldn't even exist. I never wanted a son. Yet, she just had to go out and get fucked up, and here you are." "You sick son of a bitch," Shiro hissed, pushing Keith behind him. He was much older now. He seemed to have taken on the role as Keith's older brother. He even now had a white tuft of hair hanging over his forehead. He was not afraid to stand up to Sendak anymore. "You're not touching him." "Don't forget what ship you're on, boy," Sendak smirked. He nodded his head at Unc, who proceeded to grab Keith and drag him to the lower deck despite his struggles. Shiro went to follow, to help, but another crew member held a sword to his throat. Keith yelped, his knees and hands scraping against the ground when Unc threw him down. He glared at him over his shoulder, his bangs longer than when he was younger. Unc merely glared back and headed back up to the main deck. Keith blew his bang away, the silence reminding him something; his mother is dead. The realization sank into his stomach, making him choke out a cry. He covered his face, tears escaping his eyes and gliding down his flushed cheeks. His mother is dead. His mother is dead. His mother is dead. The ship grew used to Keith's pained cries every evening. It became a routine. Shiro was forced to listen to Keith's cries echo from the lower deck, his labor increasing by the day. His life was on the line, and he wanted to be there for Keith every time it was over. That, at least, was allowed. Keith struggled against the chains holding him against the wall, tears covering his face along with cries escaping his lips. Sendak scoffed at his shaking body, wiping blood off of his dagger. "You pathetic excuse for a pirate. I bet you're more of a land person than a ship one. You'd probably enjoy swimming with mermaids!" "No! I'm sorry, please!" Keith cried out when Sendak raised the dagger. His body jolted and shot back into the wall when the dagger slashed down, slicing his shoulder open a bit too deeply. Sendak cursed, but then smirked. Keith felt his shoulder go numb, his bottom lip quivering. His voice was broken when he spoke. "Sendak, please! I'm sorry for living! Just stop, please!" Sendak clicked his tongue, kneeling down in front of him. He lifted up Keith's shirt, gliding the blade along his smooth skin. Keith flinched, eyes shut tightly in fear. "You think I'll stop at this point? I want you to beg for death." He dug the point in, slicing a long cut into his skin. Keith's scream broke off, voice giving in. The blood slid down his skin, dark and sticky. Sendak smirked, standing back up and wiping the blood off. "I'm done though. Your begging has gotten better and better~" Keith listened to his footsteps fade away, his chest heaving raggedly. Loud frantic footsteps appeared only ten seconds later. "Keith! Keith, buddy, hold on!" Shiro quickly unlocked the chains with the key Sendak gave him a month ago, freeing Keith from his bonds. He flinched at all the blood and forming bruises, running over to his bed and pulling out a kit he bought a few years ago. Keith whimpered softly, breathing heavily while Shiro wrapped up his shoulder and stomach. Shiro could've sworn he saw muscles in the shoulder through the gash. "It's okay," Shiro whispered, lifting Keith off of the ground. He cradled him gently in his arms, sitting down on his bed. Keith was close to passing out. "He won't hurt you anymore." Then Keith did pass out. Years passed and disappeared as Keith grew up. The torture sessions grew shorter and soon disappeared with the years,showing proof that Sendak was growing tired of hurting him. Keith was now eighteen years old, heading on to nineteen in the next few months. His hair ended at the base of his neck with long bangs framing his eyes. His arms had a bit of muscle, but he was almost as strong as Shiro. He fiddled with an unlit cigarette as he peered down at the ocean. It was around two in the morning, the sky dark with clouds. The waves clashed loudly against each other, rocking the ship while the wind blew the sails west. He sighed heavily, eyes tired from lack of sleep. As far as he knew, he was the only one up except for Unc, who was on watch for the next few hours. Keith ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes for a moment. He was so tired from the last few nights of working his ass off. He just wanted to sleep, but he just couldn't at this point. The ship rocked heavily, went still, then slammed into something. Keith snapped his eyes open, catching himself on the railing while Unc feel to the ground, wide awake. Keith ran to the front of the ship, eyes widening when he saw the ship heading right through a group of sharp jagged rocks. "Captain! We're heading straight for rocks!" he yelled, turning and heading for the mast. The crew streamed out of the lower deck, assuming positions to try and save the ship. Sendak ran up to the higher deck, grabbing the wheel and looking ahead. Before he could open his mouth, she ship crashed right into a rock, making everyone fall down. Shiro ran over to Keith, helping him up. "Keith, the ship's going down!" he yelled right as the front of the ship split into two. Keith widened his eyes, gripping the railing tightly. The ship crashed and swung to the side. Shiro fell back, rolling into Unc while Keith was thrown forward off the ship. He screamed, reaching out to grab the railing again, but it was in vain. His back hit the water harshly, the breath getting knocked out of him. He flinched when the salty water hit his eyes, but it didn't bother him enough at the moment. He scrambled for the surface, gasping for air when he broke through. Memories of the past flooded his mind, making him panic even more. "Shiro!" he screamed, body bobbing up and down in the waves. He was getting dragged away from the splitting ship. He couldn't see Shiro in the water. Was he still on the ship? "Shiro! Shiro!!" There was no response. He couldn't even hear the crew screaming anymore. His heart was pounding in his chest, the ocean dragging him away from the ship. His eyes widened when the front part caught on fire, illuminating the water. Keith screams grew desperate. "Shiro!!" Yet, nothing happened. Keith thrashed around in the water, waves crashing over him and taking him under. Every time he popped up, another wave would crash down on him. He floated under the water for a moment, looking around the dark water for any sign of the crew. Instead, he spotted a faint tail under him. Keith opened his mouth on accident, salty water flooding his mouth. He forced his head above the water, coughing and panicking. There was a shark or something under him. Even if it didn't eat him, he knew the shark would think he's a seal or something. "Help! Shiro!" Keith tried to swim towards the ship, which was half a mile away from him now because of the waves. "Shiro!!" He screamed for minutes before giving up, accepting his fate. A wave crashed on top of him, sending him under into the dark waters. He floated under the surface, feeling his body sink a little. His lips parted and the last of his air left him, leaving him with a tight feeling in his chest. His eyes slowly began to close, corners of his eyes blacking out. He felt the water move under him and finally closed his eyes, waiting for the sharp feeling of teeth hitting his body. Though, instead of feeling sharp teeth digging into his body, he felt smooth hands slide under his neck and knees. His body was pressed against another, arms and legs floating around him. He could feel his consciousness slipping away from him, lungs clawing for air. Suddenly, something pressed against his mouth, and Keith was quick to realize it was another mouth. He felt their tongue force his mouth open, making him want to do something. But he couldn't move. Then, to his surprise, air flowed into his mouth, filling his lungs with fresh air. What the hell? The mouth pulled away and a hand closed Keith's mouth, the hand slipping back under his knees. He wanted to open his eyes, but he felt too tired. He felt the water flow past him faster than the ship has ever traveled. He tried to move his arms, but the water kept them where they were. His mouth almost slipped open, but the water ceased and a hand pressed against his jaw, keeping it in place. Keith felt his lungs start to beg for air again. He tried to pry open his eyes, but they just wouldn't. The hand under his neck cupped the back of his head, tilting it up. The mouth pressed against his again, and he was able to part his lips on his own. He knew air came with this, and he believed he was too deep in the ocean to get it himself. Really, even if he did try to open his eyes, he probably couldn't see what took him. The process continued for the next four minutes; hold Keith and swim as fast as they could and then stop to give him air. Keith was so confused as to why whatever took him was helping him. He decided to just trust this creature and hang in their arms. Keith was jolted out of his half-sleep state when he was set down on what seemed to be a large smooth rock. He peeked open his eyes, flinching at the salty sting, but could see nothing. He closed his eyes again, his lungs growing tight again. He could feel his fingertips start to prune from being in the water for so long. He yelped in surprise when something pressed down on his entire body, the last of air escaping his lips. He felt scales against his bare legs and feet, his heart pounding. What the fuck is this? "No te muevas," a silky voice spoke into his ear. Keith thrashed under the creature, teeth gritted and eyes shut tight. He couldn't breathe or move. He was going to die. "No te asustes." And then Keith could breathe. He gasped and coughed, chest heaving while he opened his eyes. The water was gone around his head. He lifted a hand shakily, feeling a light rubber feeling around the space of his head. It felt like a bubble or something. "What the hell is this?" he said shakily, looking around for the creature who disappeared from his body. "Who are you?!" "Calm down," the voice spoke again. Keith looked around, spotting lights around the rock. The lights were a light blue, coming from what seemed to be starfishes. He blinked in surprise, seeing the slight reflection of him on the bubble around his head. This... was witchcraft or something. "Are you calm now?" Keith whirled around, his body floating up a bit from the rock. Circling around him was a merman, larger than the one he saw when he was a child. The merman seemed to be in his late teens, sporting a dark blue scaly tail that stood at ten feet with large black fins at the end. His skin was darker than Keith's, freckles covering parts of his arms, face, and shoulders. Large black fins sat along his spine and elbows, gliding smoothly in the water. His hair was short and brown, swirling in the water around his head. His eyes are what made Keith's heart stop. They were such a deep blue, they beat the ocean in his opinion. They glowed a bit in the blue light, narrowed and watching his every move. Keith gripped the rock, pulling his floating body back down. The merman turned sharply and swam right up to Keith, face right in his. "You're a pretty human, aren't you?" Keith almost turned red. But the water was so fucking cold around him that his face refused to heat up. The merman smirked. "My name is Lance. You are?" "Keith," he mumbled without thinking, staring at his eyes. "W-What happened?" Lance began circling him again, his tail running along his shoulder as he passed. "I found you floating around at the surface. You looked so dead,I thought you were. But then you weren't. So I brought you down here to get to meet you better." His face was suddenly in front of Keith's again, his tail bent and pressed against Keith's back to keep him in place. "That way you can't get away." Keith leaned back against the tail, his heart jumping at that statement. He swallowed nervously, realizing he really couldn't get away. He doesn't know what's in this ocean, and he'd probably die before he reached the surface. "Um... Lance..." "It's okay," he smiled softly, his hand resting on the side of Keith's neck. Keith flinched. "I don't plan on hurting you." Lance moved a bit closer, tail shifting behind Keith. "I've never met a human before. The question is if my tribe will allow you in.." Keith widened his eyes. Lance smiled again, his eyes flashing a bit. "Don't worry. I saw what happened. Everyone on that ship died and land is too far for me to take you back in one night." "Everyone died...?" Keith's voice broke. Shiro... "Sadly," Lance's voice held a bit of sorrow. His thumb stroked Keith's pulse, his skin smooth and comforting. Keith felt like he was going to cry. Shiro was... He shook his head, closing his eyes and trying to focus on something else. A random question popped into his head. Why was it warm? Lance smiled, knowing what he was thinking. "The light around us give off heat. Sort of why I brought you to this rock." "Thanks," Keith mumbled, arms shaking a bit. Lance gave him a toothy smile, canines sharper than normal. Lance hummed softly and picked him up the same way he originally carried him, making Keith squeak. "What are you doing?" "Taking you to the tribe," Lance rubbed the back of his neck. Keith suddenly felt a wave of sleepiness come over him. It had something to do with how he touched his neck. Lance's voice lowered to a whisper. "It'll get a bit cold, but my body will heat up and warm yours. Just sleep for a bit, Keith." Keith's shoulder's relaxed at his silky voice, eyes sliding shut. He tucked his head under Lance's jaw while he whispered into his ear, waiting patiently for him to fall asleep. "I'll keep you safe. Just go to sleep." And he was out like a light. Keith was woken up by many arguing voices. He could hear Lance somewhere behind him along with a few other voices. He was lying on a soft cushion that was way better than a rock, something resting over his body and keeping him on the cushion. He felt warmer than earlier, and sighed happily, rolling onto his back lazily. He heard the voices stop and peeked open his eyes, finding ALL eyes on him. He opened his eyes fully, glancing fearfully from one stare to another. When he spotted Lance, he could see his fins lifted up a bit in anger, eyes narrowed at the other merpeople. He was quick to swim closer, hovering defensively over the human. "Pidge, listen to me." "No, that's a human!" a female snapped, her own green fins up a bit. Keith's eyes flicked from Lance to Pidge and back, wondering what the hell is going on. They seemed to be in a fight. "He must be killed immediately, Lance!" "No!" he snapped, claws growing on his nails. "Hunk, back me up!" A larger merman with a yellow tail sighed, crossing his arms. "I can't. Law states that humans can't live among us unless under certain circumstances." Lance seemed to bristle at that. Keith felt his heart twist. The damn merman was trying to keep him alive even though he's only known him for a few hours. He felt a bit touched but also guilty. Lance snarled when a few merpeople came closer. "Fine! Then I'll fix the problem!" Everyone looked at him confused. Lance looked down at Keith, eyes glowing with guilt. Keith blinked, confused. But then Lance turned his body and pined Keith down, teeth as sharp as shark teeth. Keith widened his eyes in fear, his voice failing on him. Lance glared at the others, who all seemed to have stopped in shock, as he opened his mouth and bit Keith's neck. Keith's cry echoed in all of their ears, making a few flinch away. Keith felt the teeth break through his skin, his back arching and hands gripping Lance's shoulders. Blood swirled around his head and disappeared, the teeth digging in deeper while his tongue swirled over the skin in his mouth. Keith was actually crying from the pain, trying to force Lance off of him. "Lance..." Pidge said in shock when Lance finally let go, licking his lips and glaring at her. Her gaze hardened, but she backed off. "No one harms the human. We will head for north in the next hour for shore. We all know what happens to them if they stay in water for too long." The merpeople nodded and swam off. Lance huffed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Keith held his neck tightly, whimpering softly. "W-What was that...?!" Lance's eyes softened, his body lowering next to Keith's. "I... I'm sorry. I had to do it or they would've killed you." He settled comfortably next to Keith, tail pressed against his legs. "The law of all merpeople is that the mate of any member in a tribe can never be harmed or violated." Keith put two and two together, eyes widening in horror. "You..." Lance grabbed his hand gently, pulling it off of his neck. "Let it settle. The water makes it better." Keith couldn't say he was wrong about that. He shakily laid down, eyes wide and mouth shut tight. Lance smiled sadly, setting his hand over the bite mark. "I'm sorry, Keith. But nothing should happen to you. Just me." Keith raised an eyebrow, relaxing under his touch. "When a merman or mermaid marks someone, both become attracted to the other in both a romantic or sexual way. It really depends. But since you're human, you shouldn't feel anything." "Oh," Keith mumbled, eyeing Lance carefully. Lance waved his hand. "I can easily find another mate later one. We're able to mark as many as we want, but we can't mark one already marked. That's it." He reached forward, his hand going through the bubble and tucked Keith's hair behind his ear. Keith watched him, his cheeks growing a bit warm. He didn't know hands could go through the bubble. Lance smiled, his tail flicking and wrapping around Keith's legs twice his arms sliding around Keith's waist and neck. "You need to sleep more. You look so tired." Keith froze when Lance pulled him close, his legs trapped by his tail. Lance's fingers trailed along his spine while the other cupped the back of his head, thumb massaging his scalp. Keith felt his eyes droop at his touch. What is it with his touch that makes him so sleepy? "Go to sleep, Mullet," Lance whispered in his ear with a bit of amusement. His voice was still soft though. "I'll be right here to protect you." It was around dawn when Keith woke up again, but this time he wasn't surrounded by cool water. He lifted his head shakily, his hair sticking to his neck and forehead, covered in what felt like slime. His head pounded heavily, making his vision black out a little. He held his head with shaking hands, rolling onto his back. He looked around, noticing he was surrounded by smooth and jagged rocks. His rock was the only one with some sort of plants on them. They were a dark green and felt like grass, but looked like and moved like sand. "What the..." he mumbled to himself, lips numb from the cold. He looked at his arms. His veins were visible along the slight red skin, his fingers less prune than he expected. How long had he been here? Did he really just wash up on shore and everything was just a dream. "Hey, Mullet!" Guess not. "Lance?" Keith's voice was raspy, his head turning at the source of the playful voice. Lance smiled up at him, half his body on the rock at Keith's feet while his tail was hidden in the dark waters. Keith blinked and rubbed his eyes, spotting all of the other merpeople on a couple of rocks a little way away. Lance flicked his bangs to the side, his hair fluffy and dry. That made Keith a bit confused considering Lance was just in the water. He shook the question off for later. "Where are we..?" "Ancient Stones of the North," he replied easily. "We come here every month or else bad things happen to the tribe. Not a myth. But never mind that, are you alright?" "I think so.." Keith sat up shakily, his body shaking. The cool breeze didn't help at all. His clothes were still soaked and sticking to his skin. He swallowed thickly, throat dry and stomach clawing at him. "Is there land nearby?" Lance grinned. "Yes, actually. I'm taking you there today. It's a nice little island with freshwater and food. The tribe will stay here for the next week while you heal up then we'll travel farther north and drop you off at land." Keith groaned and laid back down on his back, his eyes sliding shut. He felt really weak. He heard Lance move around in the water before he felt a smooth hand grab his arm. "Hold on, Keith. Let me take you to the island before you pass out again." Keith felt his body get dragged off of the rock and into Lance's arms. The water, for once, felt very warm around him. Warmer than the water in the lights and the tribe's home. Lance cradled him to his chest. "Here, keep on talking to me so I know you're not gonna pass out. If you pass out, you might not wake up for a bit." Keith snapped his eyes open at that. He licked his dry lips and wrapped his arms around his neck, lifting himself up a bit. "Okay... Uh... Hi?" Lance chuckled, beginning his swim away from the rocks. "Hi, Mullet." "Why do you keep calling me that?" Keith muttered, glaring at the merman. "Because you have a mullet." "It's not a mullet." "Whatever you say~" Lance said teasingly, turning his head and nuzzling his nose against Keith's cheek. Keith jerked away, puffing out his cheeks. Lance looked forward again, lifting Keith up a bit in his arms while the water rushed past them. "Hey, do you want to see something cool?" Keith looked at him curiously. Lane grinned and slowed down, lifting his head and whistling in a strange way. It sounded like a whistle, but with a more low chirping sound to it. Keith blinked slowly, looking around at the water. Lance's hand came up to the back of his head, fingers running through his locks. Keith tilted his head up, opening his mouth to ask what happened when his question was answered. The water burst open and a dolphin jumped up into the air, chirping and diving back under. Keith jumped in surprise, clinging to Lance. Lance laughed lightly, holding Keith firmly. 'Don't worry. They're just dolphins. They're friendly!" To prove his point, a smaller dolphin popped up beside them, chirping lightly at Keith. Keith let Lance take his hand and set it on the dolphin's nose. Kith grinned slowly, petting the dolphin while it chirped at him. Once he pulled his hand away, the dolphin jumped backwards into the water. Lance grinned, looking down at Keith's grinning face. "See? Friendly." Keith rolled his eyes, lips twitching. "Shut up." "Hold on tight, okay?" Lance looked over his shoulder at Keith, who was hooked onto his back; arms around Lance's neck and legs around his waist. Keith nodded, feeling excitement claw at him at the island right in front of them. Lance swam forward until he reached the sand, his tail splashing the water a bit as he heaved himself onto his arms, crawling forward onto the shore. Keith's feet ran along the sand as Lance dragged himself forward, grunting softly but not really having a hard time. Keith understood he just couldn't walk at the moment, but he felt a bit guilty that Lance was dragging himself onto the small island to take Keith to the fresh water source. "Here we are," Lance said cheerfully with a bit of strain in his voice, coming up to a small dip towards the fresh water source. The pond was at least twenty feet wide in a full ragged circle, looking to be about ten or fifteen feet deep. Keith lit up at the sight while Lance carefully made his way down the dip. Once down, Lance immediately slid into the water, turning in Keith's loose grip and wrapping his own arms around Keith's waist, keeping their heads above water. "Look at that! You're smiling!" Keith couldn't really help it. The water was in between being cool and warm, and it was fresh. He just grinned at Lance, not really noticing that he was still being held. "I haven't seen this much fresh water in years. Of course I'm smiling!" Lance chuckled, turning and lifting Keith out of the water. Lance looked around, eyes lighting up when he spotted a few shells around the pond. He picked up the larger one and cleaned it off, dipping it in the water and scooping up the clear liquid. Swimming back over to Keith, he held it up to the boy's face. "Drink now. You're dehydrated." Keith didn't hesitate to put the shell to his lips, gulping down the water in one go. He dipped it in the water and kept drinking till his throat felt less sore, his stomach a bit happy with being filled with something. "How about we get you some food, yeah?" Lance raised his eyebrows, lifting himself out of the water. His tail ran across Keith's leg as he waddled away on his arms towards the closest tree. Keith took his feet out of the water, flexing his toes and laying back on his back. The sun was high above him now, but the trees were so large, their leaves touched each others and hid the pond from the sun. Keith was glad for that. His skin was only a bit red in a few places, but it didn't hurt. Since he drank some water, he felt way better than he did when he woke up earlier at dawn. He let his mind wander a bit at the peaceful silence. Since Lance marked him, the merman would not leave his side. He seemed to be determined to make Keith healthy again and he was so gentle with him. Keith was starting to feel overwhelmed now that he thought about it. The only person who was like that was... Shiro. Keith felt his eyes water and grow warm, his heart thumping loudly. Shiro was dead. He was dead... "Hey." Keith tilted his head back, finding Lance hovering over him with a satisfied look on his face. He held up a whole stem of grapes. "Lookie lookie! Are these edible? I sure hope so. That's all I found in the bushes over there. Do you like these... things?" Keith chuckled, sitting up and taking the grapes from him. "They're called grapes, and yes I do." He popped one into his mouth and almost moaned at the taste of the sweet juice filling his mouth. His tongue swirled around the grape while he chewed it, his stomach suddenly very desperate to have the food. Lance watched him closely, a strange look crossing his face. Keith only noticed when he finished off half the stem, looking at Lance curiously. "What?" Lance scooted closer, his tail swishing in the water. His eyes glowed with... hunger? Keith slowly held out a grape to him. "Want one..?" Lance rolled his eyes but took it, chewing on it slowly. His eyes lit up and he smiled. Keith grinned lightly. "Good?" Lance nodded, lifting a hand and running the back of his fingers over Keith's neck. Keith felt a small noise almost escape his lips when his fingers run over the mark. Lance almost smirked. "Hmm, maybe I was wrong." Keith looked at him in confusion. Lance leaned forward, eyes glowing. "Maybe the mark can affect humans." Keith squeaked, looking down to find Lance's tail wrapped around his feet in the water. When he looked back up, Lance's head tucked down into his neck, his lips moving to the mark he left only a few days ago. Keith's whole body shuddered, his neck tingling at the feeling of Lance's lips. "H-Hey!" Keith pushed at Lance's shoulders, but the merman didn't budge. He gasped when Lance licked at the bite, his body immediately turning against him. "L-Lance!" "You picked the wrong time to come into my life," Lance whispered into his ear, his hands roaming Keith's body a bit. Keith's face was very red, his bottom lip held in his teeth. "If it wasn't mating season, this wouldn't have happened. But now that I have marked someone, I just... need them." He lifted his head, smirking at Keith a bit. "I've been holding back really since I marked you originally. It was the only way to save you, but now..." he leaned in close, breath fanning Keith's face, "it's too strong." Keith gulped, feeling his lower half tingle a bit. He definitely wasn't the only one having a problem. Sure, Lance is attractive, but Keith doesn't know if he's ready for this. "Wait, Lance..." "Shh," Lance cupped his jaw, rubbing his cheek with his thumb. "I won't force you. I already told you I wouldn't hurt you. Just tell me, okay?" Keith licked his lips, Lance's hand sending sparks down his neck. That mark really was affecting him. He felt his thighs shaking a bit with need, his fingers itching to dig into Lance's lovely shoulders. Keith took in a shaky breath, seeing the dark look in Lance's eyes. The guy obviously needed something, and it was all the bites fault. Dammit... "I... uh, Lance..." Lance's eyes went back to normal, his head tilting. Keith averted his eyes, cheeks too hot for his liking. "Go ahead..." Lance was on him right after the words left his mouth. Keith yelped, his hands gripping his shoulders when Lance lifted him on top of him, lips on his neck. Lance licked and sucked on his skin, many the area around the mark. It sent waves of tingly pleasure down to his groin. Keith muffled a soft moan with his wrist, his ears turning red at this point. Lance hummed against his neck, hands trailing from his hips to his waist. "Have you done this before?" Lance asked, one hand sliding under Keith's shirt to trail up his spine. Keith shuddered, shaking his head. Lance's lips curled into a soft smile. "I'll take it slow then. Just for you~" he trailed off in a slight sing-song voice, trying to comfort Keith a bit. It worked. Relaxing his body a bit, Keith tucked his head into Lance's neck, breathing out a low moan when Lance moved his tail in between his legs, rubbing against him slowly. Lance's eyes glowed a bit at the small sound, licking his lips and biting Keith's shoulder. Keith flinched and squeezed his eyes shut, the pain not as painful as the first bite in the ocean. This one actually made his body go numb with pleasure for a split second, making him gasp out. Lance didn't break the skin, thankfully, and licked at the red bite mark, sucking lightly on the skin. Keith moaned, grinding lightly against his tail. "Ah- Lance..~" Lance shuddered at his name being spoken like that, growling lowly. Though, when he went to pull his shirt off, Keith grabbed his hands. "W-Wait." He lifted his head, face flushed and eyes half lidded. He looked almost dazed. Lance frowned softly, seeing a flicker of embarrassment cross his eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?" His voice was gentle, caring, sweet. It startled Keith a bit. He averted his eyes, moving his hands to grip the edge of his shirt. Lance's mind clicked. "Hey, you don't have to be insecure. I won't judge." Keith looked back at him, his eyes glazed. Lance took his hands in his, kissing the knuckles before setting them back on his shoulders. He slid his hands under Keith's shirt, keeping eye contact with him as he lifted his shirt up and over his stomach. Keith flinched. Lance looked down and his heart cracked a bit. On his belly was a raw looking scar. It was white and just a centimeter higher than the rest of his skin, but still too noticeable. Lance, curious, lifted Keith's shirt higher till it was over his head, tossing it aside. Keith's body was littered with different scars. Small ones scattered on his torso and sides. One like the one on his stomach sat on his shoulder. Lance looked up at Keith, seeing tears threatening to fall. He leaned forward, hands running over his scars with such care, his lips pressing against one under his collar bone. Keith hiccuped, his arms wounding around his neck. Lance smiled. "It's okay, Keith." "I know..." Keith mumbled. Lance felt his lips curl up against his head. "Thanks.." "No problem, amor," Lance grinned, lifting his head and cupping Keith's cheek. He leaned up and pressed his lips to his. Lance hummed in content, remembering how soft Keith's were the first time he touched them to feed him air in the ocean. Keith, this time, kissed back. He obviously didn't know how to kiss, which Lance found adorable. He wiggled his tongue past Keith's lips, pressing their chests together. Keith moaned a bit, his fingers slipping into Lance's hair. Their tongues clashed and fought for dominance, which Lance won too easily. Keith whined when Lance pulled his lips away. "Don't worry~" Lance cooed, his tail lifting up against Keith, making his breath hitch. "I'll make you feel good~" He lifted Keith up a bit and stripped him of his pants. Keith moaned when the air hit his hardened member, a choked groan escaping his throat when Lance pressed his tail against him again. "Fuck." He pressed his head back to Lance's neck, legs wrapping around his waist. Lance mouthed at his neck and shoulder, his hand trailing down to his ass. Keith keened when Lance rubbed his fingers against his hole, short pants coming out of him in response. "Oh, Lance.." Lance shivered, turning his head and licking his ear. Keith almost cried out when Lance slid a finger into him, tightening around the digit at the feeling. He bit Lance's shoulder to muffle his voice, thighs squeezing against Lance's tail and hips rocking against his hand. Lance groaned softly, twisting his finger around in him before adding another. Keith shuddered, toes curling and heels digging into Lance's lower back. He scissored him slowly at first, speeding up when Keith began to claw at his shoulders. He stretched his fingers out in him, pumping them and pushing them in as deep as he could. Feeling like he was about to break, Lance pulled out his fingers and wrapped his arms around Keith's body, pulling their slick bodies together. Panting heavily, Keith clung to Lance's shoulders, his lower half numb with pleasure. He felt something slide up under his legs, something hard and big. He peered down shakily, realizing quickly it was definitely Lance's dick. Through his slightly blurry vision, he could see the large cock came from a slit in Lance's tail below his hips. His heart jumped at what was about to happen. "L-Lance.." Lance pressed his lips to the side of Keith's head, lifting his hips up a bit. "Shh. It's okay, Keith. If it hurts, tell me, okay?" Keith closed his eyes, nodding his head and nuzzling Lance's neck. Smiling softly, Lance pressed his nose to Keith's head and guiding Keith's hole to his member, pressing the head into him slowly. Keith stiffened, his eyebrows furrowing upwards. He didn't say anything though. Lance groaned softly at the warm feeling, sinking deeper and deeper into Keith. He whimpered about halfway, but still didn't stop him. When he was fully sheathed in Keith, he let out a long moan, rubbing Keith's hips to sooth him. Feeling filled to the brim, Keith took a moment to get over the slight pain he received. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt as much as he thought. Must've been the mark. It probably made his whole body only feel pleasure at this point. He took this moment to thank the gods for this mark. Lance gripped his hips and thrusted his own hips up, tail making contact with his balls while his cock went deeper into him. Keith moaned at the sensation, his voice breaking off into a higher pitch. Lance moaned with him, voice low. Knowing that Keith was enjoying this, he thrusted up into him again, and again, and again. Each time, his tail grazed his balls and his pulsing cock spread him more and more. Keith dug his nails into his shoulder blades, practically sobbing at the pleasure he was receiving. "Lance! Lance! Oh- Lance!" He couldn't stop saying his name. Lance moaned out his name into his ear, his fingers digging into Keith's hips. His brain was hazy with how warm and tight Keith was. He just wanted more. More of Keith. "Mierda," Lance cursed, feeling Keith suddenly go really tight around him with he hit something inside of him. Keith's voice broke when he almost screamed at that. Lance's head continued to hit Keith's prostate over and over again, making him actually sob at the pleasure into Lance's shoulder. He felt his stomach twist more and more with each thrust, felt Lance's chest start heaving as he grew close. Lance grunted and wrapped his hand around Keith's member, stroking and pumping him along with his thrusts. He wanted to see Keith's face when he came, unable to cum inside of Keith. Keith choked on a moan, feeling Lance's other hand tangle into his hair and pull his head off his shoulder. Keith opened his eyes, purple orbs connecting with blue. His face twisted and his eyes snapped shut again, his body shaking as his orgasm hit, his cum shooting out and onto both their chests. Lance moaned, gritting his teeth when Keith tightened even more around him. He stopped his thrusts with a bit of effort, wanting to pound into Keith till he was done. Though, because of how mermaids work, mermen are able to impregnate both genders. Lance will have to remember to explain this to Keith later to avoid awkward questions later. Keith could be too curious for his own good. Hissing through his teeth, he lifted Keith off of him, groaning when he slid out of him. Keith whimpered weakly into his neck, too dazed to know what Lance was really doing. Lance held Keith with one hand while the other stroked his cock to his orgasm, his cum shooting all over Keith's stomach and legs. He moaned an gritted his teeth, bowing his head a bit as he finally relieved himself. "Lance..." Keith breathed out, chest heaving and sweat rolling down his face and shoulders. Lance stared at him in awe, the sunlight filtering through the trees making Keith's pale skin glow. Lance smiled, tucking a strand of his black hair behind his ear. Keith hummed softly, his chest sticking to Lance's. Lance kissed his head gently, picking up the large shell he used earlier and filling it with water. He switched Keith around so his back was just barely pressed against his back, dumping the water onto his chest and stomach, his other hand wiping away the still wet cum. Keith hummed softly, leaning his head back on his shoulder. Lance kissed his head again, dumping water on him till he was clean, doing the same with himself after he moved Keith off of his lap for a moment. "Keith," Lance pulled Keith against his chest, watching him open is eyes slowly, "are you okay..?" Keith smiled, his hand settling on Lance's broad chest. "Yeah... That was... good.." Lance felt happy at those words. He looked back at Keith's clothes, finding them still damp. Humming, he pulled his tail out of the water. He scooted his body closer to the patches of soft grass near the edge of the large tree closest to the pond. He laid down on the soft grass, purring a bit at the some touch and pulled Keith down with him. He was out of the sun so his skin wouldn't burn and he was able to curl up closer to Lance. Keith didn't know why, but he didn't want to leave Lance's side. He felt his tail curl behind him and press against his back, the end stroking his shoulder blades. Lance draped an arm over his waist, the other playing with his hair lazily. Keith soon wrapped his arms around Lance's torso, breathing in Lance's scent. Grinning lightly, Lance nuzzled his hair. "I don't want you to leave," Lance whispered, feeling his heart pang painfully at the thought of Keith leaving him. "I want you to be my mate forever. I want to protect you and grow to love you. I can't stand the idea of another having you." Keith peered up at him in surprise, feeling his heart do a flip at his words. He scooted up so his nose almost touched Lance's, a small smile crawling onto his face. Maybe.. just maybe.. "I think.. I feel the same way." Lance beamed. ~Six Years Later~ "Lance McClain! I swear to the northern stars!" "I swear it wasn't me! It was Lucas!" "Don't you bullshit me, boy!" "I am older than you, missy!" "I am the goddamn leader!" Keith looked up the collecting seashells on the shore, spotting Lance and Pidge having an argument. Again. He rolled his eyes, looking over his shoulder at the cause of their fighting. "Lucas, what did you do this time?" A small five year old boy popped out from behind one of the trees. He was about average size with short black hair sitting a bit messily on his head. His skin was smooth and a bit tan, freckles on his cheeks and wrists. His eyes were large and green, blinking innocently at Keith. Though, when Keith raised an eyebrow, he puffed out his cheeks and averted his eyes. "I may or may not have set up a fishnet to catch some fish for dinner, and Hunk may or may not have gotten caught in it." Keith covered his face, sighing heavily. Lucas waved his hand, skipping forward and grabbing his hand. "But he's okay! Nothing major. Now let's keep making the nursery!" "Excuse me, but I'm still not sure I'm having another," Keith huffed, only to get dragged away by his son. The five year old scoffed, skipping ahead. "Please, I heard daddy talking about accidentally making you pregnant," he paused, looking back at him. "By the way, how does that work?" Keith shook his head. "Ask again when you're older." "So next year?" "No." "Year after?" "No." The two continued going back and forth as they hung shells on thin vines in between the trees. Keith really only did it for Lucas. He enjoyed how his home looked how it was. The grass patch he slept on for so long now was turned into a bed with a handmade blanket settled on it. The pond was still the same as it was when he first arrived, still clear and beautiful. A small hammock hung from two of the trees with a smaller handmade blanket in it. Lucas was still currently trying to make his own toy to sleep with at night. Keith smiled softly, ruffling his black hair when he kneeled down next to him. "Hey, if we do have another kid, you're responsible for making the toys. I'm never letting Lance do that again." Lucas giggled and nodded excitedly. However, a voice spoke right behind Keith's ear. "That wasn't nice. I put a lot of hard work into those toys." Keith jumped, almost elbowing Lance in the jaw. Luckily, Lance caught his arm and spun him around, making Keith fall onto his back. Lance hovered over him, a mock pout on hi lips. "I'm so hurt, babe." Keith scoffed, laughing a bit. "Get off of me." Lucas was covering his eyes, making gagging noises at the two. Lance chuckled and waddled closer to their son, picking him up and holding him above his head. Lucas squealed, arms and legs waving. Keith sat up, ruffling the sand out of his hair. "Put him down, Lance." Right when Lucas was on his feet again, he fled for his hammock, crawling into it and going back to his unfinished toy. Lance rolled his eyes, pecking Keith's lips as he waddled by for the pond. Keith grinned, watching him slide into the pond like always. "Night, Lucas," Keith whispered softly, tucking the boy into the hammock gently as to not wake him. He kissed the boy's forehead, rocking the hammock a bit before turning and heading back for his own bed. The moonlight filtered through the leaves, making the pond glow. He yawned and settled down in his bed, pulling the blanket over him loosely. He heard the water in the pond swish and splash a bit, wet skin hitting the ground as Lance waddled over. "Going to bed without me?" Lance whispered, settling behind Keith. Keith turned and faced the other, smiling softly. Lance smiled back, brushing Keith's bangs back. "I heard you and Lucas talking. Does he really want a sibling?" Keith shrugged. "I think so. But I think we should wait a bit." "You mean you want to wait a bit," Lance petted his hair. "I understand. You sort of didn't like the whole giving birth thing." "Sort of? It fucking hurt," Keith muttered. Lance smiled apologetically. Huffing softly, Keith lifted his hand and set it on Lance's chest, his eyes flicking to the ring settled on his left ring finger. It was gold with silver linings that was made by Pidge about five years ago when Lance told her he was going to propose to Keith. She made Lance a matching ring, which was currently on his own left ring finger. Lance took Keith's hand in his, kissing his knuckles with soft lips. Keith scooted closer, the cool breeze hitting him. "Cuddles?" Lance chuckled, wrapping his arms around him. "Sure, baby." He tucked the blanket around Keith, his tail going into the normal curled up around Keith position. He nuzzled Keith's hair, his hand cupping the back of his head. "You know.. I'm so glad I saved you that night." Keith smiled against his chest, curled up against him. "I was ready to just drown when I saw the ship crash..." he frowned bit. "I still miss him, Lance..." "I know you do," he murmured, rubbing his back soothingly. "I wish I could've met Shiro. He sounds like a great guy." He hand ghosted over Keith's shoulder, lifting the shirt a bit to see the scar. Keith lifted his own hand, fingers touching the scar gently. Lance cupped his cheek, tilting his head up. "I'm pretty sure he's watching over you with a large smile on his face. He's proud of you, Keith." Keith smiled, his eyes watering a bit. Lance rubbed the skin under his eye with his thumb, kissing his forehead. "Thank you," Keith whispered, leaning into his hand. Lance hummed, his hand moving to the back of his neck. He could feel the exhaustion radiate from his skin, sighing softly. Keith only recently found out after all these years why he felt sleep whenever Lance touched the back of his neck. He was able to detect the exhaustion in his body, so he was able to put him to sleep by stroking his neck. It only really worked after he bit him and marked him. The first time was pure luck, in Lance's opinion. "Hey," Lance kissed his head, "I love you, Keith." Keith's heart fluttered, eyes sliding shut at his touch. He cuddled closer to Lance, yawning quietly and beginning to doze off as Lance stroked his neck. "I love you too, Lance.." "Get some sleep, mi amor. I'll be here when you wake up."
10687404	to lead you to an	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Joseph Cooper, TARS (Interstellar)", "Fandom": "Interstellar (2014)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by prolix", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-21T00:00:00", "words": "3,919", "Additional Tags": "Canon Compliant, Pre-Relationship, Very Heavily Implied Cooper/TARS, Relationship Study", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Joseph Cooper/TARS, Joseph Cooper & TARS", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Gen, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Cooper leans back against the little fold-out chair he'd set up on the porch of a ranch in the midwest US almost a hundred years ago, t-shirt slicked to his back with sweat. He presses the neck of his beer bottle to his lips like he's pressing a prayer into one of the beads of the rosary he kept in his flight suit back home, when the sky was blue and he flew up and up and up to meet it. (Once upon a time the sky was black and empty and screaming and he fell down and down and down - ) He wishes he still had that goddamn iPod with the crickets and thunderheads breaking. He rubs a thumb, cooled by the condensation off of his Guinness (one hundred years and a whole solar system and they still give him fucking Guinness - ), into the knot above his temple. Damn headaches. "It's late. Would you like to come inside?" TARS asks from the screen door. Cooper looks straight ahead at the way the horizon curls upward like stubborn paper that's been rolled up too long, like a telescope pointed at nothing. The neighborhood's gone to bed. Across the station, the next work shift is just waking up. "Gimme a second," he says. Then, "what's the time?" "2025 hours, Coop. Give or take eight seconds." Cooper smiles. He presses another prayer to his beer bottle. It's a prayer that sounds like "Happy birthday, baby girl". (He's never prayed to gods beyond the ones of field and fertility, when dust was his religion. Tiny miracles is all he asks for: a drone to cannibalize to keep his kids from starving, a watch to sync with another, his wife's eyes in his childrens' faces and her wire-sharp mind in their voices, three hours on an event horizon, for one last fucking look at his children as a great unknowable void reaches up to swallow him whole like water in a tidal wave or dust in a stormfront and his survival instinct screams like Murph did in his truck at NASA's gates and Tom did on a video uplink when his baby died and - ) This is day one.+Cooper rebuilds TARS. The robot's glitchy, can hold a smart-ass tet á tet with Coop until the sun goes down but sometimes starts rearranging syrup packets (corn syrup, for powdered coffee - coffee, pure, synthesized stimulation in a cup, dear baby Jesus how he'd missed - ) into geometric designs Cooper can't understand and then shuts himself down for hours. He doesn't remember ever making them when he comes out of it. "You never told me what you saw out there, buddy." Coop tells him, softly, out on the porch one night. "The data I collated from beyond the event horizon didn't survive the return trip," TARS says, "because I wasn't built for that shit. NASA doesn't make robots in five dimensions." Cooper nods, somber, and flips the beer bottle top in his palm between his fingers (one dimension, two dimensions, three dimensions, four - ) "I'm telling myself that, too, slick," Cooper murmurs.+They sit at the kitchen table and Cooper watches the dustless surface of it as though hypnotized. The first real clean thing, not counting the spaceworthy and space-pursuant, he's seen since he was a kid. Clothes that don't scrape skin raw. Blankets that don't make curls and plumes of swirling topsoil when you toss and turn at night. Lungs that don't heave and shift through endless debris to get to the slim pickings of oxygen beneath like some kind of starving animal. Tears that don't make tracks when Cooper breaks down and holds his head and sobs in awful, stomach-wrenching gasps, as though turning himself inside out with the force of it. (Love transcends dimensions, Brand tells him with her starscape hair and eyes like the feral Earth-bound children they all are, smiling like she knows all the universe's secrets. Fuck you, Cooper tells her, so does pain.)+Murphy is his ghost. Cooper is drunk and his dead daughter is haunting him from the space station he lives in named after her named after him. "Coop," TARS is saying, has been saying for two full minutes but he just won't listen, "it's alright, it's just a book you just knocked over a book it's okay - " Cooper goes upstairs. Presses his back to his daughter's bedroom door. Shuts his eyes tight and ignores the sparks (because they look like the singularity but everything does it's always in the corner of his vision like a tsunami wave like a dust storm always always always al - ) "Coop," TARS says, and it's breaking him, Cooper can feel it in the cradle of his ribs that it hurts the robot to see him torn to pieces and soaked in alcohol and just waiting for a stray spark to go up in flames. "Honesty at ninety-nine percent," Cooper tells him, because it will hurt him to do this. (This'll sting but only a little because if it hurts that's good, honey, if it hurts you know it's working and then it can heal and then it can heal cuts heal and scar over, Murph, Tom, but void doesn't heal void pulls in everything around it to patch itself back together again and it becomes a fucking monster to do it but what else are you supposed to do when you've got a black hole in the core of you what do you do what do you do - ) "Coop, please." "We died in that black hole, didn't we, TARS? We never came back." "That seems likely, yes." "And this? This whole thing? Some sort of fucked up fever dream we get to share until the afterlife sorts out the influx of customers queuing up at the pearly gates because we left millions of people to starve and suffocate on a planet that wanted them dead a hundred years ago, right? Right?" "Yes." Cooper laughs. He cups his hands to his mouth and laughs, as though trying to hold the sound inside, push it back into his throat and down into his chest where it can be smothered by the event horizon within him, drawn out into a thunderhead breaking by gravity and impossible dimensions. "I'm dead," Cooper gasps, eyes welling with tears as his body continues to shake with the laughter he's trapped inside of him. "I died on Mann's planet. All that fucking ammonia, didn't he say? I died there and you were the only one in that ship I could stand so I dragged you into this living hell with me. Honesty at a hundred percent." "I cannot - " "Honesty at zero percent. Lie to me, TARS. Tell me my baby boy's alright. Tell me Tom's still waiting to play catch with his dad outside right now." "This will hurt you." Cooper slams his head back against the door. The pain distracts from his building headache. "Lie to me, dammit," he says, quiet, eyes closed, trying to listen for crickets. There are no crickets on Earth. There haven't been since his parents were in school. "It's going to be alright," TARS whispers, lets him slump against one of the flat rectangular facets of his body. "It's going to be okay. It'll be okay, Coop."+(He lets TARS carry him downstairs that night, lay him out on the couch and bring him a blanket. "Honesty at ninety-five percent," Coop mumbles as he drifts. "Thank you," TARS says. In the morning, Cooper takes a double dose of aspirin and pulls every single book down from the shelves of Murph's bookcase.)+(What do the books spell? The books don't spell anything. He keeps S, T, A, Y, and the book that fell the day he left in a box under the sink. He tells himself he'll burn them. He doesn't.)+He reads about space travel. "The project head over at DARPA wants to know if you'd like to come meet - " I don't want to meet anyone, Cooper thinks. I just want to read. "The station's division of NASA want you to go - " I can't go, Cooper thinks, I'm trying to read. "Your granddaughter Cassie asked if you'd be able to - " I'm not able to, Cooper thinks, I'm reading. (Cassie's named after something, too, although Murphy was a little more subtle with name-picking when it came to her children than Cooper was with her.) (Cassie's named after Cassini, the first satellite sent by NASA to successfully collect images of Saturn.) Cooper sits on the porch and reads about the moon landing.+"What are they teaching kids in school these days, slick?" "The hell should I know?" "Before I joined up, they wanted to replace the textbooks on the moon landing with some bullshit about American propaganda. Wonder what they'll revise next, the Ares missions? Will they tell little astronauts-to-be that Mark Watney sat on his ass eating potatoes in front of a green screen for a year and a half?" Cooper goes quiet. Then: "How are they gonna explain the Endurance?"+Cooper stares up at the dust motes pinwheeling through the eaves of the back porch, right between the jut of the roof's overhang and where it meets the wall. He's been looking for this spot, where dust still clings like a memory of a second life to the original skeleton of the ranch. He lets the evening glow from the neighborhood directly overhead wax long and shadowed and just watches. TARS comes to find him after a couple of hours (he always finds him) and nudges the screen door aside with one of his arms. "Would you like to play some chess, Dave?" He asks, his little cue light on. Cooper smiles at him, a little laugh, like a plume of dust, rising from his lips. "I was thinking - " "That's dangerous." " - Shut the fuck up, I was thinking about Brand." TARS flickers his screens at him, a gesture Cooper is beginning to interpret as a blink, and walks himself over to sit next to him. "What about her?" He asks quietly. Cooper leans his head back to watch the motes again. "She used to get those video logs from her dad, you remember, and at the end he'd always read her - " "Dylan Thomas," TARS says, "Yeah. I remember." "It was annoying as hell up in space," Cooper remarks, "having to hear it over and over again, some dead poet despairing about death. But it's… it was nice, now that I think about it. That he'd do that for her. Just sit and read her a poem, like a lullaby or something. The way I used to - " (The way you used to read bedtime stories to your kids the way you read them to your wife as she slipped away from you the way everyone in your life fell away being told a story a story that began with once upon a time - ) "Would you like to hear a poem, Coop?" TARS asks, gentle. Cooper swallows the salt of his tears back down into the hollow of his throat and blinks to scatter them from his eyes like so much space debris pulling loose from the Endurance after - "Yeah," Cooper says, "Yeah, I would, buddy, I think I really would." TARS is quiet for a moment while he cues something up. And then: "Let us go then, you and I, when the evening is spread out against the sky - "+ (Do I dare Disturb the universe? In a minute there is time For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.) +At the end of the first week, Cooper officially gets his home back. The red ropes and black televisions and placards are pulled away in boxes in the flatbeds of trucks. Cooper doesn't give much of a shit about where they're going, as long as they're gone. The same doctor he'd woken up to after the black hole swings by in a clunker to check him over and leaves within the hour with a warning to ease up on the liquor and a prescription for pain-relievers that Cooper balls up and throws away. TARS walks himself to the doorframe of the kitchen in the morning while Cooper's reading at the table and says, "I'd understand if you wanted to shut me down, Coop." Cooper looks at him. "The Christ you talking about?" TARS scuffs a rectangular arm against the floorboards and it's so damn human Cooper feels a sharp needle of pride in his chest. "I'm not very useful around the house, Coop, and you don't ask me to do much besides order groceries. None of my data from NASA or the mission's worth anything to you anymore and - " "Hey, woah," Cooper says, gentle like he is (was was she's dead now gone like dust in rain all dissolved - ) was with Murphy. TARS' screens run fast with anxious coding blips and compulsive measurements of gravity and atmosphere and air composition and he's like a child, a child with one purpose and nothing else to tether him to the surface with, the thin roots of corn stalks against the yawning open sky, and that purpose is gone just like the cornstalks are gone and now there's nothing but sky to swallow him whole. (Nothing but sky nothing but void that swallowed you and spat you back out, didn't like the taste of desperation, but how much did it bite out of you how much how much is left how far did you get down its throat before - ) "TARS, buddy," Cooper says, "I'm not gonna deactivate you because the mission's over. Not unless you ask me to." "I don't want to be left alone again," TARS hisses, "Not like when you and Doyle and Brand and CASE left for Miller's planet. I was alone for years in between Romilly's cryo sessions and I couldn't do anything but wait and then - " Cooper stands up, crosses the kitchen to him, and hugs the robot. "What the fuck." "Shut up, TARS," Cooper mumbles. It's an awkward reach, with TARS being a giant metal rectangle, but Cooper's spent his whole life hugging people to keep them from crumbling in on themselves and scattering apart into their composite atoms, and so he tugs harder at the sharp angles and rests his chin on top of one of TARS' arms. "Doctor Mann deactivated KIPP because she reminded him of mission failure." "I know." "Do I?" Cooper closes his eyes. TARS leans his screen panel forward until it bumps against his chest. They're both quiet for a long time after that.+("Do I remind you of Brand?" TARS asks one night after Cooper's turned all the lights off and drawn the curtains and locked the doors. No one ever tries to get in, but it gives him an excuse to walk around the house in silence. "No, slick, you don't." Cooper tells him. He crawls beneath his blankets on the couch and rolls to face the cushions. TARS considers this. "Do I remind you of your kids?" He asks. Cooper pulls the blankets up over his head. "No." "Oh," the robot says, quiet, "Good.") (Love transcends, Brand taunts him, her face composed from thousands of impossible angles and overlapping lines and the distorted light of five dimensions. Fuck off, Cooper tells her.)+In the beginning of the second week, Cooper wakes up at three AM with a throat full of acid and a livewire snaked through his intestines setting off shocks of electric pain. He stumbles to the first floor bathroom and vomits partially on the floor, dropping to his knees in front of the toilet and feeling something claw its way through his abdomen and up into his esophagus. He presses his forehead to the lip of the plastic and watches his stomach unfurl in waves of semi-digested alcohol and coffee and blood. When it's over he spits and sits against the opposite wall and says, voice hoarse, "Fuck." The headaches get worse. TARS brings him water and whatever pain relievers are in the cabinets and Cooper downs both and vomits it back up an hour later. "We should contact Doctor - " TARS starts, idling in the bathroom doorway, so goddamn human it hurts. (What transcendence is this, Cooper hisses at Brand's singularity eyes, is this love or pain? Does he empathize or sympathize?) "No," Cooper says. He flexes his left hand, the one that he hasn't been using for two weeks. "We both know what's going on, buddy, don't fucking play with me." "The ammonia from Doctor Mann's planet," TARS says. Cooper unhooks the watch on his wrist and holds it to his mouth and presses a prayer to it. (He used to pray for harvest and benign tumors and good enough birthday presents but now he worships different deities made up of impossible geometry and distorted light and they're him. He's praying to time.)+(What book fell the day Joseph Cooper left his family on a decaying planet?)+"Hey, TARS, play me somethin'." "Coop, Jesus, you should be resting, go lay down." "I'm atrophying, TARS, from lack of anything but the dulcet tones of bossy robot! C'mon, Skynet, play me your favorite song." Cooper leans his head back against the tilt of TARS' arm, curling his knees up to his chest, forcing him to stay still or dislodge him. TARS swivels his screens to loom over him. Cooper grins. "Should've thrown you out the airlock when I had the chance," TARS huffs. His cue light blinks on. From his speakers he replaces his voice protocols with the beginning legs of a familiar song. Cooper laughs, the sound reverberating from his stomach, like the laughter he'd pressed down inside his chest had burst free of the piano key bones keeping it prisoner. "You're a classic rock kind of robot. Would've pegged you for a Daft Punk fan," Cooper smiled up at the screen that tilted to look at him. "Hey TARS," Cooper said, and blinked. His expression slipped like curtains being drawn. "Promise me something?" "I'll do my best, Coop," TARS said over the lonely guitar strains, "but I can't make promises I can't keep." "When I go, whenever it is, play this for me before they shoot me out the airlock or donate my body to science or whatever. Your favorite song. Okay?" TARS engaged the rest of his arms and sunk until he was fully flat against the floor like Cooper was, the arm he'd been using as a headrest unmoved. "Sure, Coop," he said softly, "Promise." Around them, Sabotage plays on. (How many dimensions does music transcend, Brand? How many does this moment in time?) (How do we know how many dimensions we exist in at any given moment?)+(I want to see your survival instinct, says the cold numb thing beneath Mann's skin that's supplanted him, that's erased him. I have none left, so show me your's. And Cooper sees his baby boy with the big grey eyes running through corn fields in the high noon heat of September when the stalks are golden and the sky is endless endless endless - And Murphy sings and claps as they give her birthday presents in pretty lacquered paper and try to stomach the special dessert Cooper's made entirely out of corn product because there's nothing else nothing nothing nothing - And his wife sings their children to sleep and they're both memories now but they'll be good ones, they'll be happy ghosts that tuck you in at night because ghosts are things your mind chases and this is worth chasing - Cooper gasps ice cold ammonia from the sky but it's not the first time the sky has tried to kill him and it isn't the last but to launch yourself up into it again is the only thing he's ever been good at. So he rips open the seal on his glove and throws it aside and presses the comm to his visor like pressing a prayer to it like pressing a kiss to his wife's forehead and says - )+"How much time?" "I'm a data analyst, Coop, a number-cruncher, not your personal WebMD." "Hell you are - you're equipped with medical protocols for the crew in case of emergency, so answer my goddamn question." "Sustained ammonia inhalation breaks down the respiratory system, Coop. We could be talking years, decades, especially with proper treatment to get ahead of this now." (We could be talking years, especially with aggressive treatment to get ahead of this now, Cooper remembers a nice man in a white coat saying, and the pressure of his wife's hand squeezing the bones in his own. They spent the next two years in hospital rooms, and each day his wife grew paler and thinner and their children grew sun-dappled and tall, like parasites sucking her away from him, like black holes feasting on nearby asteroids and comets. As though she had already become a memory. How do we transcend death, Brand? Cooper asks. How many fucking dimensions do I have to crawl through to see my family again?) "There are places we've seen where decades last hours, TARS. I'm not underestimating that again." "How honest are you being, Coop?" (How many? How many? Just tell me and I'll do it I'll do it I'll do it - ) "Doesn't work like that, slick." "I know. Worth a shot."+STAY, say the books underneath the kitchen sink. So Cooper stays, a hundred years too late, coughing up red-black blood and missing his family and aching with ghosts that leave no coordinates written in dust to follow. But what does the last book say?+A hundred years ago a little girl with neutron star eyes brought a book to school. ' WHAT COMES NEXT? THE RISE AND FALL AND LEGACY OF THE SOVIET-AMERICAN SPACE RACE ' (Do you know what the code says? It's just a single word just one it says stay so why won't you stay please please just stay - )+Cooper sits leaned back against one of TARS' arms on the porch and watches the league teams on the baseball diamond a few miles off take the field. "Do you think they made it? Brand and CASE," Cooper asks. TARS tries nudging his beer away from him but Cooper grabs it with a muttered "dickhead" and takes a swig. "How honest do you want me to be, Coop?" He asks. Cooper twirls the bottle cap in his free hand and is quiet for a long time. (One dimension, two dimensions, three dimensions, four - four dimensions, three dimensions, two dimensions, one.) (How to make the jump from index to thumb, four to five, how to bridge a canyon or scale a mountain how to make a circle a sphere how to land on the moon.) (STAY, demand the books beneath the sink. But the last book asks the question, poses the challenge, expects an answer, gives a choice. STAY? asks an echo of a future self.) "As honest as you want to be, slick," He finally says, quiet, "just do me a favor and never tell me how honest." TARS considers this. "I think they're trying to figure out a way back to us from their little rock right now, Coop," TARS murmurs, and Cooper smiles, eyes on the aperture of that telescope pointed nowhere. "One way to find out." This is day one.+ (And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray Do not go gentle into that good night, Rage, rage, against the dying of the light) +
10629012	Giorno Appreciation Week	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Giorno Giovanna, Gold Experience, Dio Brando, Guido Mista", "Fandom": "ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 \| JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken \| JoJo's Bizarre Adventure", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by LostToStardust", "chapters": "2/2", "completed": "2017-04-15", "published": "2017-04-14T00:00:00", "words": "1,233", "Additional Tags": "Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Language, Fluff, Drabble, Past Child Abuse, Child Neglect", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	While sitting beneath an old sycamore in the school courtyard, Giorno’s head was almost taken off by a soccer ball. It missed, thankfully, and hit the trunk of the tree he was sitting under instead, but the sudden rush of wind behind his head and the loud buh-tunk! of the ball hitting the tree was enough to bring him out of the book he was reading and snap to attention. Three students (only one which Giorno knew vaguely from sharing a class with) ran up to him. “Aw, shit! You're not hurt, are you?” one of them panicked. Giorno put on a good-natured smile as he replied with, “I'm fine. A little closer, I might've been, but I'm okay.” “Oh, cool.” another sighed in relief. “Mind tossing it back?” Giorno gave the ball a good underhand toss and and the third kid juggled it from their chest to their knee. They apologized again and Giorno returned to his book. Or at least, he tried. He felt a simultaneously burning and itching sensation that had been plaguing him all that week, and it was rather distracting. As he went to scratch at it, one of the boys let out a yelp. “Dude, what the fuck?” Giorno looked up and saw the one he knew from class flat on his ass with a watermelon he had just kicked hanging off his foot. “I'm telling ya, it was a football just a few seconds ago…” He said a bit dazed. “Well, how the heck did it happen?” “Does it look like I know?” The burning sensation grew stronger and Giorno felt something soft in his hands. He looked to see he was no longer holding a book, but a sunflower and tossed it in shock. While it's true Giorno had the odd ability to make plants grow at incredible speeds since he was a child, he had never done anything like this . The burning sensation kept getting stronger, and it was now accompanied by his heart attempting to beat out of his chest and a low buzzing in his ears. Giorno hurried back to his dorm before anything else could happen. Once inside, he slumped against the door and grabbed at his head, which was now pounding as hard as his heart. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed that it would go away, but the sensation only got stronger. Then, it was gone. Giorno opened his eyes and to his surprise, his met the green eyes of… some creature. It appeared human, but it was gold and floated just an inch or two above the floor. Giorno pushed himself further onto the door in a vain attempt to put as much distance between him and it. “What are you?” he asked cautiously. In response, the creature cocked its head to the side as if it was confused by the question before slightly opening its mouth and holding up a finger in One moment, please! type of gesture. It floated over to his desk, picked up a hairpin laying there, and transformed it into a ladybug. The ladybug flew over to Giorno and landed on his nose before promptly turning back into a hairpin and falling to the floor. “So it was you who turned my book and their ball into plants.” He concluded. “Where did you come from?” He heard a noise chime in his head that sounded like ringing bells. Was the thing laughing at him? It floated back over to him and placed a hand on his heart. “...You're a part of me.” The bells became louder as it smiled and hugged him. Apparently, whatever it was, it didn't have a concept of personal space. “Well then, I think we should properly introduce ourselves.” he said with chuckle before pushing it away. He gave a little bow and said, “My name is Giorno Giovanna. And you are…” The creature mimicked the gesture, but didn't reply. “You don't have a name?” It shook its head. “No? Don't worry, I think a can come up with something that fits you perfectly.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It was in no way a stretch of the imagination to say Haruno Shiobana did not live a very ordinary life. For the first four years of his existence, he was neglected so much and so often it was a wonder how he ever made it past infancy. And that perhaps was what made a certain instance that had occurred all the more bizarre. When Haruno was only three, his mother once again left her son home alone to go partying and the child huddled into the corner of his much-too-small crib and stared at the shadows at the wall as they became night terrors. He had found out long ago that if he stared at the night terrors, never fell asleep, they could never move. They could never get him. At least, that's what's supposed to happen. On this night, a shadow moved closer to Haruno and to his horror he realized to that shadow was a person. He was alone with a stranger in his bedroom. With the man now standing in front of his crib, he braced himself and prayed for a swift end. The man reached out and… gingerly pat Haruno on the head. The man's hand moved downwards and gently caressed Haruno’s cheek. The man had sharp nails, Haruno observed, but was careful not to prick or scratch him. The man's hand again moved, this time under his chin so he could tilt Haruno’s face to meet his. The man's face was too obscured by shadows for Haruno to make anything out but vague outlines of facial expressions, but the man seemed to make out his just fine. “What a fine child you are.” The stranger chuckled. With that, he picked the small toddler up and held him close. Now that he was closer to the man's face, Haruno could make out some of his features. The best word he could have used to describe him was “sharp.” Sharp eyes, sharp nose, and when he talked, it appeared his teeth were sharp as well. As the man held Haruno, he continued to stroke his hair and Haruno felt the most at peace he had in his life. He started to drift off in the man's arms, but before he completely clocked out, the man whispered to him, “Grow up, and become strong.” Years later, when Haruno Shiobana had grown up to become Giorno Giovanna, he found himself regaling the incident to Guido Mista as the two of them drove to Venice. By the end of it, Mista’s eyes where the size of saucers. “What the fuck.” Giorno shrugged, “He didn't try to hurt me.” “Still, what the fuck.” “And it's possible that I had imagined the whole thing. I hadn't slept in a few days and your mind can do strange things while sleep deprived.” Giorno continued. Mista let out an exasperated sigh, “You're something else, y’know that, Giorno? I swear to God…” Much like the stranger had asked of him, Giorno had indeed gotten stronger, and would most certainly continue to in the future. But not because some stranger he only only had the vaguest clue to their identity had told him to. No, Giorno Giovanna would continue to grow stronger to achieve his goals. He would need all the strength in the world to make them reality.
10684296	No Meaning	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Kunpimook Bhuwakul \| BamBam, Kim Yugyeom", "Fandom": "GOT7", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by girlwhowritesbad9", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-20T00:00:00", "words": "1,751", "Additional Tags": "i always write before mocks, i literally have a mock tomorrow and two more the day after, ooopps my fingers slipped, its smut, well not entirely - Freeform, teasing?, Foreplay?, idek, im bad at smut i am sorry, they don't go all the way, just informing, but they're in love okay?, they are pure and dirty, that makes no sense and i need to cleanse my sins, see ya'll at the church, jk don't, porn with emotions?, slight daddy kink", "Relationship": "Kunpimook Bhuwakul \| BamBam/Kim Yugyeom", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Yugyeom was more of a “choking” person rather than being “choked’, so when Bambam made him choke on his TomYum soup which almost went up to his nose, he didn’t know if he could learn to appreciate it. It was a typical day with another schedule at a place which wasn’t his motherland. Thailand somehow was amazing in its own way; Bangkok was livelier than Seoul and much more, bright.Not just weather wise, Thailand had a different aura during the day and a whole different aura during the night. During the way, the rush of people could be seen on the wide pavements whilst the roads were congested by countless taxies occupied by the local people and tourists.At night, the street was lit by the dim lights of the restaurants and bars along with countless hotels. The smooth jazz music along with the heat of the Thai summer could often make one feel emotions which were indescribable. Bambam had dragged Yugyeom to multiple bars with live music ever since they had become legal adults. Bambam was much more free spirited in Thailand. The latter often gave up on his fashion commitments after sunset along with his prideful career. Yugyeom had watched Bambam move his hips to loud music, he had watched Bambam shamelessly perform, horribly, on live music bars, he had noticed how Bambam’s eyes shone much brighter than his blinging wrist jewelry and he had noticed how much Bambam liked to be off the chains of his career, as much as he loved to perform.Sure Bambam often took fashion advice from Yugyeom, even though their tastes in fashion were very different. Bambam was self-confident when it came to his body. He knew his legs were model like and his hips were killer sharp. The questions which were asked to Yugyeom were mostly “Do my legs look hot?” or “Are my collarbones exposed enough or is it too much?”. Yugyeom would always answer what was the truth.“Perfect.” Bambam always did look perfect, no matter in whatever clothes he was in and no matter what situation he was in. Makeup didn’t matter either. Bambam’s skin was always flawless even with the crimson red shade which often took place on his skin and his acne scars were like the first blossom of spring after a harsh snowy winter. Yugyeom’s eyes liked to consider Bambam as “eye candy”. So when Bambam had stood in front of Yugyeom, to show his ass tightly hugged by the fabric of his jeans, whilst the other had a mouth full of soup, Yugyeom was expecting death to arrive. The elder of the two had gifted himself with a pair of new skintight jeans and let’s be honest; all his jeans were skin tight which complimented his long legs.“Are you okay?” the elder asked worriedly, turning around at a choking Yugyeom. “Ye-yeah. I just almost choked on the soup. You look great in the jeans. You should buy another pair just in case.” the younger replied, trying to avoid eye contact as he wiped his mouth and teary eyes from the coughing and choking episode earlier.“Ah fuck, I spilled some soup on the bed. I have to call the room service.” Yugyeom muttered as he picked up the phone to dial service. The phone, however, was pushed down by the elder. “You didn’t even look at me. Not properly enough to give me your opinion.” the Thai boy demanded, with his eyes glinting with some sort of anticipation and mischief.“Don’t be ridiculous Bam, you look fantastic in everything you wear.” Yugyeom hurriedly replied, swallowing a lump in his throat as Bambam inched closer to his position on the bed. “Do I know? How can you be so sure? Are you always watching me, hm?” the elder demanded, hooking one of his legs on one of younger’s hips. “Well?” the elder demanded as he hooked his free leg on Yugyeom’s other hip, placing himself on the younger’s lap and wrapping his arms around his neck. The younger closed his eyes as he felt Bambam’s breath clash against his own. The sensation was odd but he could also feel how close the elder’s lips were against his own.“You know I always notice you and everything you do.” Yugyeom informed, with his eyes still closed and palms on the bed, next to each of the elder’s thighs, to support his weight against Bambam’s. The elder inched his face closer to Yugyeom’s ear with a hum and began to place butterfly soft kisses on the younger’s ear. He began to bite into the shell of the ear and tug the ring like earring hanging from the younger’s piercing. Yugyeom’s breath hitched as he began to feel a flush rise to his face and his body radiating heat. Even though they had a very long schedule earlier that day, all signs of exhaustion were currently replaced an uncontrollable desire boiling under his skin. “Aren’t you going to touch me?” Bambam asked, whispering into the younger’s ear as he pulled his ear with this teeth, making him let out a growl of satisfaction. Bambam grabbed both of the arms of the younger and shoved the palm in the back pocket of his jeans. Yugyeom gripped tight on the elder’s ass and brought him closer if it was possible without colliding into one. Bambam initiates the first step and cups Yugyeom’s cheeks, pulling the younger into a deep with all teeth clattering against each other and tongues dancing together. Yugyeom runs his lips from the elder’s lips to the base of his jaw line and neck, peppering it with light kisses. Bambam tilts his head to give the younger a better access and the permission to mark him as his own.“We can’t, we have a schedule tomorrow.” Yugyeom informs whilst lightly biting into the sun kissed smooth, almost golden skin of the elder. He made sure no marks were left apart from a red flush, which would last for a couple of seconds for only him to witness. “I want you. I want you so much, daddy, please.” Bambam whispered into Yugyeom’s ears with a groan of desperation.Yugyeom now knew his rising erection was now fully hard and probably poking the other in the ass. However, no matter how much he wanted to pin Bambam to the bed and make him moan his name till sunrise, they had their limits. Yugyeom knew he’d probably end up making it difficult for the elder walk properly the next morning, let alone dance. Kissing into Bambam’s mouth, nibbling on his lower plump lip, Yugyeom knew he couldn’t have Bambam the way he wanted the other tonight but neither could he stop himself from grinding back as he felt the elder move his hips against his own.“Bambam...we need to stop....we can’t do this.” Yugyeom informed in between his gasps. Bambam began to kiss the younger deeper, tongues colliding in each other’s mouth and saliva dripping off of their cheeks. Their faces went numb from the heat at this point and the shade of red that had appeared was darker than freshly bloomed roses. “Daddy, I need you, at least your hands on my skin. Please daddy.” The younger at the pleading of his lover immediately removed Bambam’s probably very expensive jumper and threw it at wherever his hands directed him to. He unzipped the fly of both of their pants, revealing their underwear already drenched in pre-cum. “You hands feel so good on me, daddy.” Bambam gasped as Yugyeom brought their lengths together. The grinding of Bambam’s hips alone was honestly enough for Yugyeom to come shamelessly but the warm breath on the elder on his neck and the pleading gasps was a bigger turn on than he could have ever imagined.Bambam bit into the flesh of Yugyeom’s neck to surpass the loud moans which could be heard by his neighbors, as the younger began to pump their lengths together at a steady pace. The seeming to be endless teasing and foreplay from earlier had already pushed Bambam to the edge of his limits. “I don’t think I can hold longer, please make me come daddy.” Bambam whispered into Yugyeom’s ears, making a thrilling chill run down the younger’s spine. Yugyeom himself had been suffering from holding back. The feeling of Bambam’s bear skin on his hands and his neediness when the elder had been dominant just a few minutes ago was horrible for his orgasm. It was always like this, Bambam pushing him to the edge of his self-control until he became a beast.He could only wish that they didn’t have to hide their love from the world. He could only wish to hold Bambam’s hand without the excuse of fan service and he could only wish to kiss his soft lips in public to let everyone know that the most beautiful man on the planet, belong to him and only him.The lovers had soon hit their climaxes together, ending it with multiple bite marks on Yugyeom’s neck and the shape of Yugyeom’s right hand on Bambam’s right butt cheek. The two were extremely exhausted from their activities even though they couldn’t make love to their heart's content.“I don’t want to move.” Bambam complained with ta huff as he lied on top of Yugyeom on the bed. “Me neither but we have to clean up before room service comes.” the younger replied, petting his fingers through Bambam’s freshly dyed hair. The scent of the hair dye still lingered in the elder’s hair along with his natural odor. “Hey, you want to get come ice-cream tomorrow?” Bambam asked, lifting his head to make contact with the younger. “Yeah, only if you pay.” Yugyeom replied, with the toothy grin and eyes filled with affection. He loved every small gesture Bambam made for their relationship; very often it made him wonder what he had done to deserve the elder.“You always make me pay but that’s fine because I love you.”Bambam replied with his head on the Yugyeom’s chest. The younger knew his heart had began to race much faster than when he danced and he was sure Bambam could hear it but that was perfect. The way Bambam made him feel in second spent with the elder, Yugyeom could never express his emotions with words.“I love you too.” Yugyeom replied, soon feeling a heart beating just as fast, against his own chest.
10667301	Youve Gotta Stop Holding	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Clarke Griffin, Lexa (The 100)", "Fandom": "The 100 (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by soclose", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-18T00:00:00", "words": "3,093", "Additional Tags": "Smut, Dom Clarke, Sub Lexa, Light Dom/sub, hitachi play, Multiple Orgasms, Aftercare, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Unrequited Love, AH YES, lexa is in love with her dom, Forced Orgasm, but on the light side of that", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Clarke Griffin & Lexa", "Series": "If I'm Not the One for You....", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Clarke is going to be the death of her.Fingertips digging into her fleshy thighs, Lexa scrambles to find a hold and ground herself. The feet tucked under her knees keep her legs spread wide, exposed. She’s bared to Clarke and the arm wrapped across her collarbone teases pressure at the base of her throat.Clarke’s thumb flicks the switch and the wand hums to life, filling the room with its promising buzz. Gooseflesh peppers her thighs, her heartbeat racing, and arousal swirls thick in the belly to settle heavy in the depths of her hipbones.It’s embarrassing, really, how much she likes finding herself held at Clarke’s whim. Yet no matter how much her cheeks burn and her chest flushes, the weekend comes and she finds herself back underneath Clarke’s beautiful hands.“You’re gonna love this, Lexa,” Clarke says, lips ghosting against the shell of her ear. Lexa turns into it, leans into the soft press of lips at her pulse point as Clarke works down the length of her neck. “I’m gonna make you come so hard….”Lexa’s hands come up, wrapping around Clarke’s arm as the wand nears the inside of her knee. It’s on low, she knows, Clarke promised, but the heavy vibration seems impossibly intense as it nears her skin. Already her nerve endings stand at attention, her body a buzz of static and need, but nothing can prepare her for the jolt of electricity that sings up her bones as the white head settles softly against the inside of her thigh.“Oh!” she gasps, twitching in Clarke’s arms as she jerks away from the startling sensation. But Clarke’s hold on her only locks, calves tugging Lexa’s legs further apart as her arm threatens at the base of her throat.“Hold still and be good a good girl,” Clarke whispers, wand crawling up the inside of her thigh as she squirms, struggling under the intensity of the sensation. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”“Clarke,” she chokes, desperate, hips bucking as the wand rounds the curve of her inner thigh to sit just inches from its goal.Clarke wields the toy to the crease of her hip, threatening. Everything is on fire, buzzing loud as her heartbeat and Lexa’s drowning under the promise of it, under the promise of pleasure and not enough and too much and Clarke….Clarke.Clarke is going to be the death of her.Teasing over the top of her pubic bone and down over neatly trimmed curls, Clarke’s grip tightens around her chest as Lexa jerks, muscles tensing under the strain and vibration.“Clarke!” Her voice cracks, throat closing as Clarke ghosts the wand over her clit. Her entire body buzzes, Clarke dipping lower to slide the toy down her flesh and gather her arousal.“That’s my good girl,” Clarke coos in her ear, supporting her as Lexa arches against her.Her muscles are coiling, heat flooding her lower belly as Clarke teases her, pulls her to the top of the cliff just to dangle her from the edge. Clarke holds the vibrator relentlessly against her clit, working small circles of the sweetest torture while Lexa’s body trembles and shakes.“It’s too much ------” she gasps, fingers splaying out to twist handfuls of the cotton sheets in her grip.It’s too much, too much, all sharp and heady and coming at her with the power of a freight train. It’s too much, too quick, and she’s not ready, it’s not enough and oh god, please, Clarke, please --.“It’s not,” Clarke disagrees, breath teasing the shell of her ear. “Just let go, Lexa. Be a good girl and come for me.”With her permission granted, the tension in Lexa’s belly snaps like a taut wire, unwinding her into chaos and oblivion as her spine arches against Clarke. Her body stills at the peak of it, leaning against Clarke before she shatters, a writhing mess. Her eyes clamp shut until starshine bursts behind them, white glitter peppering her world into static noise of pleasure and oh god and Clarke please, more….She’s certain she’s going to burst, the pleasure bordering on pain and she’s doing her best to jerk away when Clarke finally eases up, giving her only the slightest of reprieve as she returns the vibrator to tracing soft circles around the wet curls on her lips.“And just think -- we’re only getting started, babe.”Lexa’s swallow catches in the back of her throat, muscles forcing it down as she struggles to breathe. How many times can Clarke make her come with the force of a lightning bolt before she collapses? How many times can her muscles string themselves so tight without snapping?At least twice, she has the second to think, before Clarke’s hand lowers from her collarbone to pinch at an aching, pebbled nipple. With a moan that sounds nothing like the whine it feels like, Lexa arches into the touch, rolling her abs and her hipbones as Clarke’s fingers travel downward, removing the vibrator to tease at her curls and dip down into her sensitive skin.“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Clarke’s voice holds her awe, and Lexa can’t help but watch as Clarke runs two fingers from bottom to top, collecting the silky evidence of her arousal and letting it string from her fingers to Lexa’s clit. “I wonder how much we can stain the sheets before I’m finally through with you.”With a groan, Lexa’s head rolls back, pillowing on Clarke’s shoulders as she blonde teases her. From their very first time, Clarke had discovered how much her obscene words affected Lexa, how they made her blush and hot in the same breath. Whispering dirty promises into the skin just below her ear, Clarke dips her soaking fingers inside of Lexa, ripping a moan from her throat as those beautiful fingers push inside her throbbing, swollen flesh.When she brings back the vibrator, it’s not what Lexa expects; Clarke is two knuckles deep and sliding in on the third when she touches the wand to the back of her own hand. Setting those fingers to vibrate deep inside her, Lexa gasps as she feels Clarke curl them, tugging forward on that familiar spot. The added sensation of buzzing turns pleasure into ecstasy, turns her breath into heavy drags that burn when she sits still too long under the sweet torture and forgets to answer her body’s basic need.There’s no chance of her surviving survive Clarke’s thumb as it swirls around the swollen bead of her clit.Her hands rip forward, grasping at Clarke’s wrist and nearly begging her to relent. There’s a mumble on her lips and her nails against Clarke’s skin, but a sharp pair of teeth latch at the junction of her shoulder and neck and she gasps, hands jerking away as the warning burns into her skin.“What’s your color, Lex?” rumbles in her ear, but that thumb never pulls away, and before she has a chance to contemplate her answer, her body is clenching, tugging and pulling on Clarke’s fingers and it’s not quite as intense this time, but it only lets her shudder longer, gives Clarke the chance to draw it out as she milks every last clench from Lexa’s gasping body.“I’d like to assume that means green,” Clarke says, softer this time, pressing a kiss to Lexa’s cheekbone before she continues, “but I need to hear your color, Lexa.”Clarke pulls the vibrator away from her skin, but Lexa’s muscles still flutter around her fingers.There’s a minute of grasping, a minute of deep breaths while she tries to let her body keep up with the onslaught. “-------Green,” she finally manages, swallowing thick around her dry throat. “I’m…. green. ‘S good.”Slowly, Clarke pulls her fingers out, trailing them up to run comforting lines across Lexa’s lower abdomen. She smears the evidence of Lexa’s enjoyment across her skin, painting her body in transparent, silky lines.Lexa lies boneless in Clarke’s arms. How is it possible to be so spent and wanting more in the same breath?“I’m going to put this back on your clit,” Clarke tells her, hand splaying firm across Lexa’s pelvis to keep her in place as the wand draws back up her thigh.Lexa whines, the sound high and tired but her thighs part as Clarke works the vibrator up her leg.“I’m going to hold it there and rub little circles until you come for me,” Clarke continues. “But this time, I’m not gonna stop. I’m gonna keep going and going until you think you can’t come anymore, and then when you think you’re all done, you’re still gonna give me another. Understood?”Teeth clamped around her lower lip, Lexa shivers under the weight of Clarke’s words. She nods her head dutifully, even managing to gasp out a, “yes, Clarke,” when Clarke’s hand tightens down around her hips.“Good girl,” she murmurs, and as the wand returns to her skin, Lexa’s lost to a world of giving and taking, of Clarke demanding her pleasure and Lexa offering it up as sacrifice.She loses track of the number by the time they start to blur together, when every ending becomes just another beginning and even Clarke’s grip can’t hold down the force of her body’s shaking. Even the tips of her toes tremble with the wash of her pleasure, and she doesn’t quite remember moaning, but her throat is dry and searing by the time her hips jerk and nudge away from the wand with their sharpest effort.“Clarke, please------” she begs, shameless, hands clenching around Clarke’s arm where she holds the toy. She forces herself to swallow when her efforts earn her a moment of rest, using the clarity to force out, “please. I can’t, I can’t, it’s too much, please. No more….”Clarke’s free hand reaches up, brushing a sweaty curl back from Lexa’s temple. “What did I tell you?” she asks, too sweet, still circling the vibrator while Lexa trembles in her arms. “Until you don’t think you can; and then I want one more.”There’s no misnaming the whimper that breaks from her lips. She’s desperate, sweaty and still twitching as her nails dig crescent moons into the soft flesh of Clarke’s wrist. One more, oh god, she wants one more. “I can’t….”“Yes, you can,” Clarke coaxes, hand coming to pry Lexa’s fingers free and interlace them in her own. “You can give me one more. Just one, Lexa.”She flushes under her waning willpower, under the way she lets Clarke take hold of her hand and press the vibrator back to the inside of her thigh.Her muscles are burning, sure to be felt in the morning, but how can she say no when Clarke brushes those sweet, beautiful lips down the line of her throat? How she can pull her safe words when her muscles clench around the idea of giving Clarke what she wants, of surrendering her body to Clarke’s demands even beyond the desires of her own?“Just one?” she asks, quiet“Just one more, baby.”Her head dips down, traitorous, eager as it seals her fate. She feels Clarke tug their joined hands downward, using their fingers to pry her lips apart and expose her throbbing flesh to the cool air of the room. Even that is enough to make her shiver, her own fingers being used to aid in Clarke’s quest, before the wand comes closer and Lexa swears she can feel it starting before the white tip ever makes contact.“Clarke --! “Her name is ripped past her vocal cords as Clarke presses the wand against her, the spread position now mainlining the sensation directly to her clit. Throbbing in time with her racing heart, every touch vibrates down to her bones, lights her insides on fire and has her muscles clenching before she even has the chance to want it.“Oh, fuck!”Her breath shudders, muscles rolling as Clarke drags her higher, winds her body like a roller coaster up the first big hill. Her free fall is just as inevitable, that stomach-dropping whoosh slipping in as she surrenders herself to Clarke’s will, to her touch.“That’s my good girl, you’re doing so well,” Clarke praises, and that’s all it takes for Lexa’s face to screw up, her eyes to slam closed and her hips to leave the bed. Distantly, she’s aware that Clarke’s murmuring has no end, that she talks her through the blinding white power that takes over her oversensitive body and brings her back down with soft hands kneading the trembling muscles at the tops of her thighs.“That’s it, baby,” she hears Clarke say once her eardrums clear themselves of her ragged breath, her pounding heartbeat. She doesn’t know when Clarke turned the vibrator off, but the resounding silence is almost deafening. “Nice deep breaths for me. We’re all done. You did so good.”She stretches her legs as Clarke releases them, softly kicking out the tension in her knees before she turns to tuck her face into the crook of Clarke’s neck. She’s shaking, breath turned choppy and fast against Clarke’s steady pulse, but Clarke moves them to laying, warm hands coming up to embrace her and she softens into the hold.Tears prick at the back of her eyelids and she swallows. Jesus, Lexa, there’s no need for this. Pull it together. She staunchly refuses to let them fall, but she wants to, feels the tremble inside her belly that expands with every breath.Clarke’s lip press to Lexa’s cheekbone, thumb tracing an absent pattern up and down her back. Lexa buries her face in Clarke’s neck and breathes deep, palms flat against Clarke’s shoulder blades as she does her best to keep her close.“You were beautiful, Lexa,” Clarke murmurs to her, continuing her trail of kisses down her jaw to land at her pulse. “Such a good girl for me….”Lexa’s chest warms at the praise, at the way Clarke’s fingers tuck a stray curl behind her ear with such care, as if she’s fragile. As if she’s something precious.Clarke is always soft with her after their sessions, likes to scoop her up and hold her close and kiss her hair until Lexa’s breathing returns to normal and her body calms down from its sex-induced high. It’s aftercare, Clarke calls it, and Lexa did her research – she knows it’s an important part of their play. She knows it keeps Lexa’s endorphins from dropping too quickly and sending her into a spiral, helps to level out her hormones before she goes back off into the real world and breaks the rose-colored bubble that surrounds the two of them in this place.But there’s a part of Lexa, a part she does her best to keep buried way, way down, that wishes it were more. She wishes the kisses were more than just necessary, wishes that the cuddling was more than just routine. Because no matter how no strings attached Clarke thinks they may have started, Lexa is a dirty, awful liar and she’s tripping over her own strings even as she’s laying still.Guilt worming itself into the blank spaces between her ribs, Lexa lets out a sigh. It’s going to be another long night….“You doing okay?” Clarke asks, pulling back far enough to make eye contact.Lexa nods, eyelids heavy and blinking. “I’m just tired,” she says, and the guilt winds around her heart, squeezes tightly. Rule number one – you can’t lie to me when we’re in a scene, Lexa. We need to be honest or this can’t work.Clarke watches her for too long, eyes scanning her face as if she knows, but Clarke is too trusting to doubt her (or at least to call her out on it) and Lexa lets out another breath when Clarke nods in acceptance.“I’ve got some Gatorade in the pantry, you should take one before you leave,” she says. “Make sure you’re hydrated.”Lexa nods. Of course, hydration is her number one priority when she’s slipping out her dom’s house in the middle of night to return home to cold, empty bed. "What about you?" she asks, nodding to the untouched woman in front of her."Don't worry about me," Clarke assures her with a kiss to her cheek. "Tonight was all about you."“I should get going anyway,” Lexa says, stretching her limbs as an excuse to put some space between them. “I’ve got to be up early to work on a motion for class tomorrow….”It’s not a lie, it’s just… an excuse. A reason. Yes, of course.“Okay,” Clarke says, releasing her hold. She places one last kiss on the edge of her cheek before rolling away, and Lexa doesn’t bother with clean up as she reaches for her panties on the floor. She’ll drown her feelings in a too-hot shower when she gets home anyways, wrap herself up in her softest pajamas and pretend they can make up for the warmth of a woman’s loving arms.“Text me when you get home?” Clarke asks, like she always does.“Of course,” Lexa replies, reaching behind her to clasp her bra before tugging on her tee shirt. In a matter of minutes, she’s dressed, tugging her hands through the wild mess of her hair before pulling it back into a bun, letting her keys jangle as she pulls them off Clarke’s kitchen counter.A bottle of blue Gatorade is pressed firmly into her palm.“Drink that,” Clarke tells her, her last order of the evening. “I’ll see you next weekend?”“Yes,” Lexa confirms, and it feels masochistic. “Good luck with your rotation this week.”Clarke’s smile splits wide, brilliant. “Thanks! It should be way more exciting than GI. Digestion is cool and all, but babies are way better.”“You’ll be great at it,” Lexa assures her. “You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”“I’ll text you,” Clarke promises, moving to open her front door to see Lexa out. She leans in, brushes a soft kiss at the corner of her lips. “Drive safe, okay?”“Always do,” Lexa says, pulling her lips into half of a smile. She takes the first step down out Clarke’s front door, putting more space between her heart and the source of its beating. God Lexa, could you be any more gay and obvious?? “Goodnight, Clarke.”And like always, soft, but never enough, Clarke whispers back to her, “goodnight, Lexa.”Clarke Griffin is most definitely going to be the death of her.
10659327	In the Heat A New	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Garen Crownguard, Darius (League of Legends), Draven (League of Legends)", "Fandom": "League of Legends", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by DipsInDemacianDots", "chapters": "4/4", "completed": "2017-04-27", "published": "2017-04-18T00:00:00", "words": "2,317", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Garen Crownguard/Darius, Darius & Draven (League of Legends)", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Chapter 1Garen entered the rift feeling elated. Darius was obviously going to top against him and he couldn't have asked for a better opportunity to beat Darius over and over again. As he ran to the bushes of top lane to scout, he wondered in what way he would try to kill Darius first. Would he leap into the air to bring a devastating blow? Would he try to outlast him with a battle of will? No, he would spin to win. When he reached the bush, suddenly a huge axe came out and hacked him, wiping a bloodied trail across his chest. Darius came into view, smirking as he managed to get a blow in before Garen. "That's it", Garen thought, "I going to show him how to really spin a weapon." He leveled his E first, and waited till the first wave clash. When Darius tried to do anything, Garen just spun, knowing he was being obnoxious and subconsciously knowing he was doing it only for Darius. Darius only grinned and with the next level decided to turn annoyance up a notch. He pulled Garen in, playfully making a kissing face just inches from Garen face, then began bracing himself to spin his axe. Garen thought last second, "If Darius wants a kiss", thinking a little devilishly, "I'll give him one". Instead of running away like Darius expected, Garen dropped his sword and grabbed Darius by the shoulders to full on kiss him on the lips. Darius didn't know what to do or think. He knew the rivalry between him and Garen was heated and they both stopped at nothing to show each other up, but this.... He just didn't ever expect it. Darius stood there for a few seconds, trying to figure out how to snap himself out of stillness and how to stop his dam heartbeat because it would feel better than this fluttering drum probably audible to the whole rift. Finally, he managed to push Garen with the butt of his axe, not sure who looked more red, Garen from embarrassment or Darius from anger....and blushing. This feeling wasn't supposed to be happening and yet Darius couldn't help seeing his hatred for Garen in a new way. He always looked at his perseverance as a annoying trait, but now he saw it as the way they could play with each other. Without Garen being willing to fight back every time Darius did something purposefully, it ruined the fun. He wanted Garen to be there, giving it all he had for a silly rivalry, but maybe now he wanted more. Something more than simple tricks and witty comebacks. Perhaps Darius wanted to actually care about Garen past is he dead or not. Darius ran to the tower, forgetting about the minions. Garen watched Darius's range of emotions kick in this entire time. To be honest, the kiss actually felt good. He expect to taste only blood and bitter alcohol, but his lips tasted sweet like chocolate and the soft texture made him stay the extra seconds past the joke. He became less forceful and melted more into the kiss as time went on. When Darius pushed him away, Garen almost whimpered but stopped himself realizing where he was again. Garen stared wonderingly at Darius, ignoring the dying minions, gold and victory becoming secondary issues. There was a spark here and Garen was not about to just ignore it. He left his sword on the ground and ran after Darius. "God dam him! God dam him!", Darius swore to himself as he paced the tower. He looked up and saw Garen a couple feet away unarmed, with a look of concern, and worst of all, affection. "I do not need this right now Garen!", Darius shouted. "Why did you do this to me!" Garen kept staring, giving nothing else but a blank face now. I hated that I wanted him to come under the tower both so I could hug and kiss him, and see him die so I don't have to look at him at least for a minute. Garen was visibly agitated when he asked, "What do you mean? Why did that kiss affect you so much?" Just tell him, a little part Darius thought, but he just grimaced and sighed. It would be so much easier to just kill him. Wait a minute.... Darius stuck out his axe, and drew Garen into the tower range. He couldn't do his full combo right now, but he felt the need to bring out every bit of rage seething in him by bringing blood out of Garen, drop by drop. Garen simply stood there staring at him, with fright but also with what seemed like sad disappointment. All of Darius's rage and pride buckled under that gaze. He couldn't finish it. But the tower would. As the proclamation of first blood rung out, something Darius used to relish, he felt more empty inside then ever at how he just treated Garen. He only had pain left where he should have felt pride of a kill. He wanted Garen back here more than anything else. God, what is happening to me! I thought Garen and I just got on each others nerves for...what did we do it for? Ugh, I need to talk to Draven about this. Darius leveled up to 3, recalled then ran down to bottom lane. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Chapter 2 Draven and Morgana were laning against Ezreal and Taric and unfortunately not doing well. Draven looked back as Darius approached, only managed a nod then had to remain focused as not to get hit with Taric's stuns while catching axes. It's a miracle he doesn't get cut by those things Darius wondered. Darius knew he would have to at least force Ezreal and/or Taric to recall in order to talk with his brother. This matter could not wait until after the match. Morgana landed a binding on Ezreal, perfect opportunity for Darius to come from the side and pull him in ready to use all he had on him. A couple axes from Draven, combined with tormented soil, and we got Ezreal down to 100 with Taric's heals and shields going like crazy. Now with only Taric left, I could comfortably talk with Draven while he farmed. Draven said, "Nice job getting first blood up there. You're probably proud to have killed that guy....Gordon?" Darius replied, "It's Garen Draven, and you know that. I wanted to talk with you about what happened." He responded, "Why does it matter, you killed him, you got gold and a one up on him, what else was to it?" Darius did not really want to explain what happened in detail. He kind of hoped Draven had been watching top but the difficulty of his lane plus Draven being self-centered usually meant things had to be put in front of his face. "Garen and I were fighting and when I pulled him in, instead of attacking me, he pulled us closer and kissed me...for a while." Draven dropped his axe. His look of surprise would have been funny except I was close to an emotional tantrum. He picked out another axe from his side and asked, "Did you kiss back?" Now Darius had the surprise on his face. He didn't know. How could he not know if he had kissed back? He felt like he was aware of everything about that moment, and yet, nothing on that detail. He decided to answer honestly. "I'm not sure. Honestly, I think I did because I liked it." "Do you like him though?". Draven was really pushing his buttons here. "I don't know anything Draven! I just wanted to ask what you think of the situation." Draven opened his mouth, then a black shield surrounded him, Morgana shouting, to run. Darius was there for 3 minutes straight and that had caused four people to try to gank. Gragas, Lux, Ezreal and Taric were all coming at them. "We'll have to talk about this after the match". Draven swept his axes in front of him and ran away, leaving Darius to be the kill bait. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Garen respawned, with sagged shoulders that could no longer hold the world. He wanted to figure out Darius's reactions, but he needed to come to terms with his own too. Garen ran down mid lane, deciding that he didn't want to risk getting hurt by Darius emotionally this time by seeing him. He knew Lux would make everything better. She always did.Lux was against Katarina, who was wearing a really, really sexy kitty costume. Garen was mesmerized by Kat's swift motions before realizing Lux kind of needed his help. He swooped in and silenced Kat just as she came in to ult them. Lux rooted her down while Garen spun till she died. Lux only got away with barely 200 hp and that was only because of her shield. Lux gave a sigh of relief. She smiled and said, "Wow Garen, I didn't expect you to come help but thanks!". She looked more closely at him and saw he had a pensive expression. "Is something wrong?"Garen never held anything back from Lux until this point but he felt kind of guilty that he was about to describe something he initiated and brought out of control. That behavior wasn't like him. He was expected to be courteous, determined and honorable. And yet Darius brought out anything but those things.He decided to be blunt, knowing Lux would just ask for details she wanted to know. "I kissed Darius at top lane and I want to do it again because I liked it". He held his breath waiting for a response.Lux stared at the minions, farming them still, but not really paying attention. I could feel her brain working through the details, trying to make the connections, and failing. She shook her head and carefully she admitted, "I just don't see it. Anytime I have seen you two so much as see each other, there is rage in your eyes. You're just confused. Have you been feeling alone lately? You're projecting your feelings onto Darius and just using lust as an explanation." She paused, then turned towards the bottom lane. "I'm going bot to gank. You should go head back to top but think about what I said. I just don't believe what you're saying is true, nor would I trust Darius to do anything other than try to kill you". And with that, her recall finished and Garen was left alone, somehow more in mental turmoil then before. I didn't expect that from Lux, Garen thought. I trust her so much, but I can't let go of what happened between Darius and I. How did I feel? Why didn't I tell Lux how I felt too? She probably doesn't know about how I admire Darius's skill...but are those actual feelings? Maybe she's got a point.Garen wanted to tell Lux more stuff, so he began to head bot lane, only to hear that Darius had died there. Strangely, that didn't affect him any differently than any other death call. Perhaps this was all just a fluke of the moment. With that thought, Garen ran, with shoulders a bit more sturdy than before, back to top to catch up. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Everything seemed to be going well for their team, they were 2 to 1 and they had a gold advantage. Perhaps Garen could bring a victory after all with things feeling back to normal. Returning from the shop, he was admiring his sword's upgrade when he saw Darius and all of his emotions came rushing back. Darius seemed more handsome now, gleaming armor, a manly axe and the scars were doing it for him. It was as if all the parts of Darius he hadn't noticed before came out shining brilliantly for Garen's eyes and heart to soak in. He forgot everything Lux said and ran up to Darius, who was carefully farming minions one by one. "Hey!", Garen smiled as he got closer. Darius glanced up and just grimaced, "Hey yourself". Garen's smiled faded, but he wasn't leaving. He saw a light, and was determined to see it again. "I was wondering if you were free after the match and wanted to hang out?", he questioned shyly.Darius really looked up at Garen this time, with shock and confusion. I couldn't believe this guy, trying to still talk to me after what he did. Who does he think he is asking me out? There were two types of people to Darius: people he had sex with and people he didn't want to have sex with, and Garen was in that rare zone, where he had kind of wanted him only for physical pleasure, but maybe now he wanted more. Darius wanted to make a snarky comment but he couldn't do that to Garen. The air felt too tense. He was about to give some excuse but as he looked into Garen's eyes, he saw hope, a sparkling dream, and as if in a trance, he couldn't stop himself from saying, "Yes". He bit his lip after, managing to stop the rest of the words but the damage was done. Garen's face transformed into the first happy expression I'd ever seen him have. I'd seen glee from killing someone or pity when someone didn't do well. It really brings out his eyes and smile, Darius noticed. There really seems to be something here. Darius actually smiled back and playfully swung his axe at Garen, trying to begin the never ending fight between them again. But this time, there would be more behind it, and a hand to hold onto at the end of the match as they exited the arena. Maybe Garen could really be the one to give myself to.
10602084	Ill wait for you baby	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Katsuki Yuuri, Victor Nikiforov, Yuri Plisetsky, Makkachin (Yuri!!! on Ice)", "Fandom": "Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by PastelBlueDahlia", "chapters": "3/3", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-20T00:00:00", "words": "13,943", "Additional Tags": "POV Victor Nikiforov, Fluff and Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Smut, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Ice Skating, Confident Katsuki Yuuri, Worried Victor Nikiforov, Living Together, Anxiety, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Relationship(s), Sexual Content, Deepthroating, Come Swallowing, Coming Untouched, Coming In Pants, living in Russia", "Relationship": "Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Viktor waited at the airport and stared impatiently at the time on his phone, absentmindedly stroking Makkachin's fur. Yuuri's plane should have arrived a couple of minutes ago. On the day before he barely slept, his mind filled with thoughts of seeing Yuuri, of touching him, of speaking face to face to him, and no bad connection or the time difference would keep their conversations short, only getting the fundamental things across. They could talk about everything, go everywhere, together. At the thought of their reunion, a wide smile spread across his face which he couldn't shake off. In the morning, Viktor was so full of anticipation that he had to let it out in some kind of way, so he tightly hugged his pillow and squealed into it. Makkachin beside him only sleepy lifted her head to see what had gotten into her owner. Viktor felt like a stupid teenager, but living apart from Yuuri was way harder than he ever thought it would be. Since Viktor choose to come back to the ice and still be Yuuri's coach, it became clear to them that Yuuri had to move to St.Petersburg. After all, it wasn't unusual for a skater to move in favor for his skating career or to follow his coach. And there was no reason not to move in together, right? It would be practical because both had the same daily routine and were already used to living together. Those were at least the rational answers Viktor came up with when he tried to explain his way of thinking to Yuuri. Fortunately, Yuuri seemed to not mind at all, placing his chin into his palm and looking kind of amused at Viktor before agreeing to their cohabitation. Viktor thought about how it would be to see Yuuri in the morning, to be with him 24/7, to see him walk around in his home, his country like he belonged there, beside him, and how much he would brighten Viktor's world. It was hard to believe that his dream would become reality in merely a couple of hours. But Viktor knew already that he didn't want to spend a single day apart from Yuuri anymore. Yuuri was his glimmer of hope that kept him going, that kept him wanting to go further, to grit his teeth through all the pain and to stand in the spotlight again, bathing in cheers and glory until he would fall exhausted into Yuuri's arms. Yuuri ignited a fire inside him that he hadn't felt in years, or ever, and let him burn until there were only smoking ashes left, which he would carefully hold in his cold hands until he was restored again, new and better than before. It was hard to tell before he met Yuuri, but Viktor was buried under expectations and boredom and loneliness and he could have sunken deeper into a swamp until there was nothing left anymore that made him a person.But then Yuuri had stepped into his life.Something peeked out of him, waiting to be awaken, and maybe Viktor had also longed for something like this, for Yuuri. Viktor still could hardly believe that Yuuri wanted him around. He was used to playing the charming playboy, winking and smiling in every direction, meeting and exceeding the expectations of others. It was a role he had learned to play, and with time it came to him as natural as breathing. But Yuuri didn't want that. Yuuri only wanted the real Viktor, the vulnerable and weak and genuine Viktor with flaws like a normal human, how strange it may seemed. He didn't need an idol he could adore from afar, he needed a human who could reach out his hand to him. When this realization hit him, he felt restless and unsure. And even now he asked himself it what he said and done was enough, if he was really helping Yuuri in the best way possible. Yuuri never failed to surprise Viktor, and his whole future seemed like a new, exciting adventure. He couldn't wait to begin it together with Yuuri. As people began to stream out of the gate, Viktors heart pounded against his ribcage and nauseous feeling settled in his stomach. He stood up, and at the edge of his field of vision he could see how Makkachin rose from the floor, curiously looking at the people that passed them and wagging his tail like he knew exactly for what they were waiting. Viktor watched out for dark hair and glasses, but the only thing he saw was blond hair, brown hair and people who weren't Yuuri. He asked himself how he should greet him, with a hug or a kiss? Or would that be too much, since they didn't see each other for two months? Then he saw Yuuri. And all thoughts were drained out of Viktors mind. He pulled his trolley bag behind him, one that was much bigger than the one he used for competitions. In one hand he held his coat and let his eyes wander over the waiting crowds that now began to meet and hug their loved ones. And Viktor was that person for Yuuri, his „loved one“ in a sense, at least for a brief moment. Viktor felt a heavy tug on his heartstrings at the sight of Yuuri looking for him in the crowds. Then Yuuri finally spotted him, his face splitting into a big smile and then walked towards him. Viktor felt a heat rise from his neck into his cheeks, and he found himself bashfully smiling back at Yuuri, being exposed to the contradictions of the need to keep their eyes locked forever and the desire to avert his gaze. God, he thought, I really am a teenager. But the first to reach Yuuri was Makkachin, the dog ran towards him and jumped up and down from excitement and almost knocked Yuuri over despite his old age. Yuuri immediatly dropped down on one knee and stroked the dog fondly, his laughter sounding so bubbly and happy and genuine as Makkachin licked his face, that Viktor couldn't help but also smile and laugh, even though the love of his life seemed to be more interested in his dog than in him. „Hi Viktor.“ Yuuri greeted him with a beaming, disarming smile. Viktor smiled back at him, and he felt a warm shiver running down his spine as he knelt before Yuuri to also stroke Makkachins fur. „Hi Yuuri“ he said, which left both of them giggling. Then Viktor pulled Yuuri in for a tight hug, and whispered in his ear „I missed you.“ whereupon Yuuri just signed contently and hummed in agreement. When they finally got into a cab, Viktor sat in the back of the car with Yuuri while was Makkachin in the front seat, which left the grumpy old Russian man mumble something unintelligibly. At some point, they began to held hands and when Yuuri didn't let go, it left him nervous and happy. Maybe Yuuri wanted their nameless relationship to take a form, a specific name? After they paid extra for the cab ride and successfully climbed the cold staircase, Viktor pulled out his keys and let Yuuri inside. He suddenly felt insecure about his apartment. Yuuris home was packed with furniture and memories and love, and Viktros home was minimalist, bare, empty and the loneliness that he felt over the years seemed to have sunken into the cracks of the walls, like soot that blackened the very core of Viktors home, and maybe would never go away. Viktor spent the whole past day on cleaning and sorting things out, making sure that Yuuri had enough place. And he bought some necessities, like more towels and toothbrushes, and he even ordered Japanese cookbooks, even though he knew that Yuuri wouldn't need them and it was way faster to search a recipe on the internet. But it was nice to have at least some domestic, colorful books at home that he proudly could present to visitors, but especially Yuuri. To hide his nervousness, he asked Yuuri with a smile on his lips, „Tea? I bet you are pretty exhausted from your flight.“ Yuuri smiled at him, and Viktor felt his heart melt a little. „That would be great, thanks. I actually just want to take a shower and sleep.“ Viktor laughed and started to prepare tea for both of them. When Yuuri asked how Viktor got his hand on that green tea, Viktor only shrugged and smiled silently. He didn't need to know that he imported it from Japan. But the Japanese characters probably gave it away anyway. When they talked about the flight and the farewell party (apparently the triplets started skating and studied an adorable little performance), Viktor relished in Yuuris voice and presence, and felt how he gradually calmed down. He showed Yuuri the rooms and where he could put his stuff. When they went into Viktors walk-in closet, he heard a short snort coming from Yuuri and he turned around to see how Yuuris shoulders shivered from trying to suppress a laughter. „God Viktor you are so extra!“ he laughed, holding his stomach and leaning against a wall. Each time Viktor saw Yuuri laughing or smiling, he unconsciously began to smile, too. Viktor gazed at his closet, and yeah, most people didn't have such an impressive closet, but normally people would be in awe. „And what's with those mirrors everywhere?“ he laughed with his nose scrunched adorably. The corners of Viktors mouth began to shake and he pressed his lips together, trying to hold the laughter that was bubbling inside him from spilling. „Those are necessities.“ He tried again with a lack of determination. They looked at each other for barely two seconds before the both bursted into laughter, which had Makkachin come running to check on them both sunken down on the floor. Viktor really looked forward to them living together. There were many things Yuuri loved. He loved to stay awake late at night to face time with Phichit or with his family. He loved to wake up at the first light of dawn, still laying in bed and lazing around. He loved to take Makkachin out for long walks on the nearby park. Viktor just didn't know if he was one of the things Yuuri loved. He realized it when they went to sleep on the first day Yuuri arrived. It didn't seem like he wanted to sleep on the couch, but asking would maybe send the wrong signals to Yuuri. So when Yuuri came out of the bathroom Viktor already laid down, hugging Makkachin and listened closely what Yuuri would do. To his surprise Yuuri lifted the covers, slipped under them and turned off the lights. Then he wished Viktor a good night and fell asleep. While Viktor tried to calm his way to fast beating heart, he thought about the times Yuuri rejected him when he said he wanted to sleep together. And now he laid in Viktors bed like it was completely normal, an everyday occurrence. He turned to the side and looked at the back of Yuuris head, heard how he took long, calm breaths. His heart squeezed in his chest, and he thought about touching him. But it seemed he was already asleep, and maybe he didn't want to be touched in the first place. They had kissed once and even though Yuuri gave him that gold ring (which he didn't take off once in the last months), it was still Viktor who said it was an engagement ring. He had assumed that this was what he really meant. Yuuris biggest enemy and his biggest obstacle he had to overcome over and over again was his mind. Yuuri always belittled himself and thought of others too highly, especially regarding Viktor. He knew that Yuuri would sacrifice his career without a second thought when he could benefit someone he cared about. That was something he was sure of, that Yuuri cared about him. How deep these feeling went was a different matter. Viktor refused to let Yuuri keep pushing him away, when he obviously wanted him by his side. And after that they didn't really talk about what those rings meant now, after they moved in together. Viktor realized that their relationship didn't have a clear definition, everything was intertwined and fluid, no description seemed entirely right or wrong. Coach, friend, boyfriend, fiance, all these names seemed to fuse together. And maybe that wasn't that important for the moment. Yuuri was in Russia with him, and wanted to hold onto him. They had still time to figure it all out. They spent the first three days together to put away Yuuris stuff when it finally arrived. His things amounted of some smaller boxes full of clothes and books and games, also just bare necessities. In the evening they went to a fancy, awfully expensive restaurant, which Viktor had bombarded with phone calls as soon as it was clear that Yuuri would come to live with him in Russia. The restaurant had a great view over the night view of St. Petersburg, the light dim and mostly coming from candles making everything seem like a classical scene in a movie. The food was incredible delicious and gorgeous, but being with Yuuri somehow reminded him of the hearty taste of the Japanese dishes he came to love in Japan. Yuuri told him everything in detail about his farewell party, and all the little thighs he forgot to tell him on the phone when they couldn't see each other. Viktor felt his gaze shift every now and then from Yuuris bright eyes to his beaming smile to his graceful long fingers where the gold ring caught the candle light. He was torn between listening to everything Yuuri said and responding like a human being and shamelessly drinking in the sight of Yuuris lively face that was dipped in mellow light, his eyes sparkling playfully as he leaned forward like he wanted to tell Viktor a secret, and then laughing in a bubbly voice. When the bill came Viktor paid everything, and when he noticed Yuuris gaze on him he just smiled, purposely resting his chin on his right hand, showing off his ring. „Don't worry, that's just payback for the ring.“ he beamed across the table. Yuuri bashfully averted his gaze, a slight blush creeping up his features, turning even his ears red. Viktor found himself in such a blissful and happy state that he already couldn't imagine how he lived before Yuuri came to him. Just having Yuuri in his life was the best thing that happened to him in years. They would walk around in St. Petersburg with Makkachin, going to parks, to shopping malls („Viktor for god’s sake, stop acting like my sugar daddy.“), restaurants or just aimlessly walk around. When Yuuri excitedly pointed at something and flashed that bright smile at Viktor, he couldn't help but feel like he himself saw the city for the very first time, in a new bright light, even though he had lived there all his life. But after the training started at the rink, Viktor began to notice some changes in Yuuris behavior. He seemed kind of uncomfortable at the new rink, he walked around lowering his head or staring at the floor and when Viktor tried to explain or show him something, he would often apologize for not listening because he got distracted. Viktor just flashed a reassuring smile at him, lightly putting a hand on his back or shoulder. But it was understandable considering that he had to get used to a new and uncommon environment with many new people. And it was surely a big shift for Yuuri, who was used to training in the little, quiet rink in Hasetsu that he could have for himself whenever he wanted, or training in Detroit where the rink was also reasonably smaller and fewer people got coached. He got along well with some other Russian skaters, like Mila and Georgi who accepted him immediately and kind of took him under their wing. Despite them being only a couple years apart they seemed to love pampering him like a kid. Yurio however seemed to gradually warm up to Yuuri, or at least tried to hold back his rants when he noticed how uncomfortable Yuuri was. On the day Yuuri came to the rink, Yurio constantly flubbed his jumps, and when he managed to finally land one at the end of the day he flashed a bright smile at Yuuri, who blinked in surprise before smiling also a beaming smile in his direction, which came so unexpected that Mila and Viktor constantly teased him how even the ice tiger of Russia had fallen for Yuuri. This resulted in Yuri screaming „You're disgusting!“ before hiding his face in his hoodie and running of to the showers. He ignored Yuuri the next few days completely, which caused more teasing. However, the other skaters who were also training at the rink seemed to stress Yuuri out. Especially when they watched his training during a break Viktor could see the determination harden his features. The sound of the unknown Russian language crept over the ice like a curse that made Yuuris feet mess up his jumps, and made his step sequences lifeless and boring. Viktor noticed how Yuuri tried to pull himself together and restore his concentration, but it only slipped further away and made him grit his teeth in frustration. Viktor already tried to think of a way to distract him from that unproductive training day, about something to console him. But when Viktor tried to talk to him about it Yuuri just said that he would try to work harder on himself to not get distracted again. He even bowed. Viktor wanted to tell him that he didn't talk to him as a coach right now, but as a- as a what, exactly? A couple of days after that incident when Viktor talked to Yakov about his possible new themes, Yuuri went out by himself. As Viktor opened the door to his apartment and found it empty, he felt his whole heart pound in his body. He grabbed his cellphone, searching for his number with shaky fingers to call him, but he didn't answer. He felt like he was riding a roller coaster, a nauseous feeling settled in his gut. Yuuri was alone in a big city he wasn't used to and it started to get dark. While he tried to take long breaths to calm himself down and think about where he could have gone, he got a message from Yurio. It's content was an address and the words Hurry up. Katsudon is here. Viktor practically sprinted down the stairs and tried to get a cab as fast as possible. The whole time during the cab ride he clutched his cellphone and bit on the inside of his cheek, staring at the road without seeing something. His mind was strangely blank, there was just a mix of emotions that seemed to overwhelm him.When he arrived at the said place, he saw Yurio standing next to Yuuri and Makkachin. Yuuri hid his chin and lips in his scarf, staring at the floor and not responding to anything Yurio said to him. Makkachin slowly licked Yuuris hand in a comforting gesture. Viktor ran directly to them, spreading his arms to hug him, but Yuuri just continued to look at the floor and lightly put his fingertips against Viktors chest, like he wanted to shove him away. The feeling of relief was replaced with a sting in his heart. „I'm sorry I took Makkachin with me.“ he whispered, gaze still directed at the floor. „And thank you for picking me up.“ he said while walking past him to the waiting cab. Viktor felt like he was thrown in cold water. He looked at Yurio, snapping his lips like a fish, unable to breathe, not knowing what to say. Yurio clicked his tongue in anger. „He wanted to make dinner and went out to buy some stuff, but got lost. He wanted to surprise you. Can't you even take care of your boyfriend?“ he said angrily before getting in the cab. Viktor felt nauseous again, he swallowed hard before slowly walking to the cab. During the whole ride Viktor thought about the fact that Yuuri didn't have enough faith or trust in him to call him when he was faced with a problem. Viktor wasn't his pillar. He was the person Yuuri felt he had to act strong in front of. At home Yuuri didn't look Viktor in the eyes and went straight to bed. In the weeks after that incident Viktor would often catch Yuuri curled up in a blanket on the couch, absentmindedly stroking Makkachins fur, not moving for a long time and just staring blankly at one spot. Sometimes he would turn the TV on, but because he could only understand a couple of words he would often turn in off after a couple of minutes. He didn't know what to do and how he could pull him out of this state. Yuuri looked so vulnerable that Viktor was afraid to say something wrong, to hurt Yuuri again. The conversations they had were mostly related to skating or who would cook or clean. Yuuri started to talk less and less to the other skaters at the rink, and answered in short sentences. The training got harder and harder for Yuuri, because he couldn't implement the advices Viktor gave him, but Viktor let every opportunity to say something slip because he was scared to be too blunt. Yuuri distanced himself from Viktor. He kept everything locked away from him, even his body. Viktor had this realization one time at the rink. Laughter swept across the rink, and even though they didn't laugh about him, Yuuri flubbed his jump. The impact echoed in the now quiet rink, everyone seemed to hold their breaths. Yuuri didn't get up but rolled on his back, the crook of his arm thrown over his face, covering his eyes. Viktor felt his heart squeeze with shock, and panic spread across his tongue. He skated to Yuuri, kneeling beside his head and tried to talk with him. „Yuuri are you okay? Tell me where it hurts.“ His hands hovered above him, scared to touch him. Suddenly he became aware of the loud Russian voices that asked if Yuuri was hurt, what they should do and kept talking all at once. Anger flamed inside his gut, but he tried desperately to suppress it. Instead, he screamed at them in Russian „Get a doctor!“, to which they just nodded and ran off. Yuuri let out a deep sigh, and then tried to stand. „Wait Yuuri, maybe you should wait for a doctor-“ „I'm fine, Viktor, really.“ Yuuri responded. But Viktor could see how he gritted his teeth and tried to keep a neutral face, eyes staring at the ice. Viktor sighed. „Let me at least look at your leg.“ He gently grabbed Yuuris hips and turned him around to face Viktor, but when his fingertips slightly touched Yuuris inner tight he heavily shuddered, as if his hands had burned him. Viktor looked up, curious, and met Yuuris gaze. He looked down at him, teeth gritted and a shocked expression on his face. Yuuri opened his mouth, but no words would come out. Then the door of the rink opened and a doctor accompanied by some other skaters entered the rink. „I'll get a check-up, don't worry.“ he said and skated carefully away. Viktor could only follow Yuuri with his eyes. Thankfully Yuuri wasn't hurt badly and only suffered from a bruise that wouldn't make any impact on Yuuris skating. When Viktor heard that Yuuri was fine he let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. That evening, Viktor just wanted some time to think about the last couple of weeks. Usually he would take a walk witch Makkachin and go to the park, sit on a bench and let the thoughts flood his mind. On this particular bench he would often think about performances, memories or his future. Now he just wanted some kind of consolation. But when he saw how Yuuri was snuggled into Makkachins fur and how cozy he looked he couldn't bring himself to take that away from him. „Yuuri, I'll take a walk, so you can go to bed without me.“ he said while putting on his jacket. Yuuri looked him into the eyes, opened his mouth as if to say something but changed his mind. Viktor thought about how often something like this has happened in the past weeks. Since when couldn't they talk anymore? „Okay, take care.“ he said meaninglessly and smiling a constrained smile at him that hurt to watch, and Viktor smiled at him like he would at an unknown interviewer. The cold air hit him in full force when he stepped outside. In a completely dazed state he walked to the park, mind completely blank. He felt as if he would suffocate. The park was thankfully deserted. His eyes wandered from the leafless, tall trees to the frozen little pond. The few streetlights made the park probably one of the rare spots in St. Petersburg that was not fully lit up. Viktor knew that he had to be careful, but the park was the only place where he could see the stars, their light not being swallowed up from the light of the city. And it was quiet there. So quiet that Viktors imagination would run wild when he sat on this bench. How often did he think about Yuuri on that bench, how he missed him, full of anticipation. How ironically it was that he sat there again, also because of Yuuri. Viktor knew Yuuri. Through the months they spent together at Hasetsu, and through the months they lived apart he slowly discovered Yuuri Katsuki, tried to carefully unfold each of his layers, wanting to know everything about him. Viktor just wanted to give Yuuri security, to be his pillar when he lost himself in self-doubt. But maybe Viktor acted too conceited to see what Yuuri really needed. Had Viktor actually tried to help him or did he just get out of his way, using the excuse of trying not to hurt him again? Was he only protecting his own heart? Viktor gritted his teeth. Maybe he should have been more persistent. But he was so incredible afraid that Yuuri would push him away again. Sometimes he felt for every two steps he got closer to Yuuri, he was pushed three back. Maybe the reason why he pushed Viktor away was because he noticed his feelings? He was always obvious with his feelings towards Yuuri, but only in the last couple of months he seemed to understand that he cared about him more than just a friend or coach. Yuuri always thought of Viktor first, he had proven this in Barcelona. Maybe Yuuri thought it would be cruel to expect more from him, for him to be his emotional support when he already pushed him away. But Viktor would gladly give everything to Yuuri. Even if Yuuri didn't love him, he still wanted to be by his side. It would hurt. But Yuuri was his inspiration, the reason why he wanted to keep skating, and without him everything would go back to insignificance. He knew that he had to be patient. That was one of the first things he learned during his stay in Hasetsu. Never push Yuuri. Let him know that you will listen, that you are here, then he will talk about himself when he is ready. But he felt that this way of thinking would only lead them to distance themselves. Viktor couldn't wait for Yuuri to sort things out for himself, he wanted to help him. He thought of the time in Barcelona, how Yuuri wanted to let him go. He couldn wait until Yuuri came up with the same conclusion again. Viktor knew it was hard for Yuuri to suddenly leave his old, familiar life. His whole future plans changed within just one year, and of course that would be overwhelming. There was a new home, a new rink, new people and a foreign country and language, and only a handful of people he could talk with. Viktor heart squeezed at the thought how lonely Yuuri must feel. What could he do so that Yuuri found confidence again in himself and his skating? What helped himself in those times? There was only one thing he could think of. He pulled out his cellphone to make a call. I will upload the next chapter in a couple of days, where they will finally talk (and there will be smut)The story is inspired by the song "I know you" from Skylar GreyIf you have any criticism, feel free to tell me! ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- When Viktor opened the door to his apartment, he was greeted by complete darkness and quietness. His heart squeezed at the thought that this was how he used to live. Before Yuuri. He tried to keep as quiet as possible, changed his clothes and went to bed. Yuuri laid there, hugging Makkachin tightly with one arm, his breathing calm and steady. Viktor smiled at that sight, and slowly went to the bed to take Yuuri's glasses off. Then he slipped under the covers, his face directed at Yuuri who was hidden behind the enormous fluff that was Makkachin. Viktor stroked his fur slowly, trying to neither wake the dog nor Yuuri. He thought about his plan. He just hoped it would work out how he envisioned it. Viktor didn't really have any coping mechanisms like Yuuri or calming routines when the stress or angst hit him in full force. Sometimes he was rather surrounded by people, because even a fake smile could turn into a genuine one, even if it was just for a while. Yuuri on the contrary would want to be alone, think thoroughly about everything and don't talk about it, and only the presence of Makkachin was allowed in those moments. Even though they shared their "not wanting to talk about it"-habit, Viktor knew that Yuuris overthinking and pessimism would only spiral him deeper into an abyss where he couldn't climb out by himself, solely because he dragged himself further down. Viktor hoped that he could be the second presence Yuuri allowed in those moments, that he could be the one that calmed him down and extended a helping hand which Yuuri would, hopefully, take. Lost in his thoughts, he accidentally brushed Yuuris fingers, and the feeling of his warm skin made a shiver run down Viktors spine and he slowly pulled his hand away and laid it beside his head. Then he turned to the other side, Makkachin radiating a welcoming warmth in his back, and Yuuris close presence painfully clear and sharp in his mind. Before falling into a deep sleep, he thought I need to stop acting like a teenager. On the next day, Viktor woke up even before his alarm started ringing. He was always a morning person and a light sleeper, so it was normal for him to wake up especially early when something was on his mind. He stretched a little and turned to look at Yuuri. A smile split his face, before it was replaced with a worried expression, his brows furrowed and biting on his bottom lip. His idea seemed really good the day before, but would it so easily fix everything that went wrong between them? Would Yuuri actually want to spend his time with him? Viktor suddenly saw all the flaws in his plan, and he cursed himself for what most people (especially Yakov) had pointed out to him again and again: that he was quick to make decisions without thinking them through. That he was too impulsive. But because in the end everything went well, he didn't mind. Until now. Now was one of those moments he should have put more thought into it. He sighed and leaned to his nightstand to grab his phone. He opened a text and smiled fondly. It would be a waste to discard the kindness that was shown to him. Viktor was determined to get Yuuri to agree and he was more than ready to convince him with the best arguments he had in store, delivered with the best actor skills he had learned and improved over the years. Now he just had to think of some, and the best place for thinking was always his shower. Viktor sighed in delight as he let the warm water run down and heat up his muscles. Then he was crushed from the thoughts about what would happen if Yuuri didn't agree and how he didn't have a plan B, and smiling while shampooing his hair, thinking of the possibility that he could reach Yuuri, that he could help him. Before he stepped out of the shower and into the bedroom, he sent a silent prayer to the gods that everything would go well and that there still was something between them that was able to be saved, that Yuuri hadn't become completely unapproachable. When he stepped inside the bedroom, Yuuris alarm began to ring. Viktor couldn't help but notice how pretty Yuuri looked right after waking up, and he thought how unfair that was: he barely looked human before his morning shower. The sight before him, how Yuuri laid there with his huge dog and how streams of light gently lit up the room and drew patterns on the sheets made him want to climb into bed again and shower Yuuri in the warm feeling in his chest that began to spread up into his fingertips. Viktor shortly thought about how Yuuri would react if he just crossed those couple of meters and began to place light pecks on every visible piece of skin, but he quickly decided against it. Even he could see how random and impulsive that would be, and Yuuri would probably shy away from him. Also, hold your horses teenage Viktor. Yuuri lazily extended one arm to reach the nightstand and turn the alarm off, but Makkachin already pounced on him and began licking Yuuris face, which made Yuuri giggle and squirm under the large dog. Viktor realized he had the same idea like his dog. But he just smiled softly at them. „Good morning you two.“ he said, still smiling genuine at Yuuri, eyes soft and radiating warmth. Yuuri stopped in his motion, his smile faltered „Good morning.“ he answered, still smiling but not as bright as before, and Viktor felt his heart twinge. Viktor turned to walk into his closet and searched for clothes. While putting them on he said in a loud voice, so Yuuri would understand him: „Yuuri, lets take the day of.“ he tried to sound casual, but his voice sounded wrong and too cheerful in his own ears. His heart began to pick up speed as Yuuri didn't answer. Instead, he heard movement from the bed, a faint rustle from the moving sheets. „Why?“ Yuuri asked, his voice sounding skeptical and Viktor could practically hear the furrow of his brows. Viktor took a deep, silent breath before sticking his head out of the closet and saying in an emphasized cheerful voice: „We've been working non-stop on your jumps, so I thought that today would be a good day to actually work on your theme and your routines.“ Yuuri blinked, something that seemed like surprise took over his features. Viktor walked a couple of steps towards Yuuri, still trying to hide his nervousness and keeping his facade in place. „I mean, we still have more than enough time, but maybe you want your music to be composed and that might take a while. Plus, it's never a bad idea to think about something like this a little early.“ Yuuri blinked again, his expression unreadable. Then he said in a casual voice „Sure.“ Viktor felt the tension immediately leaving his body, and a genunine smile tucked at the corners of his mouth. „So, uh, I already thought about some things and themes, and maybe you could help me?“ Yuuri asked, his eyes darting from one place to another but never reaching Viktor, his voice sounding unsure, like he thought he was asking for too much. „S-since you always create your own stories when you skate, and I wanted to try that too… But you don't have to.“ he said, wringing his hands in his lap in a nervous gesture. Viktor said with a warmth and fondness in his voice that even surprised himself „I'd love to.“ Seeing Yuuris face split into a relieved smile was even more than he had hoped for. This certainly wasn't what he had envisioned. He thought that Yuuri would want to work alone on his routines and wouldn't want any help or insight. Viktor had heard of skaters who would struggle with their inspiration, not knowing what they wanted to perform, but also didn't want to bother anyone. Viktor was pretty certain that Yuuri was one of those types. Instead, both of them sat together on the kitchen table over various notes, rearranging themes, music, jumps and step sequences into different orders, until they had several drafts about what Yuuris next season should be about. Viktor felt as if nothing had changed between them, or rather, as if they've gone back in time. Every now and then Viktor glanced at Yuuri, how carefully he took everything into consideration and how relaxed and normal he looked. It felt as if he hadn't really looked at this kind of Yuuri in a long time, and his throath got tight. Viktor got so caught up with planning all these new routines, all these stories that just waited to be told on the ice, when he was startled by the sound of his alarm. For a split-second he thought about canceling his plan. Maybe they would be able to talk like this, maybe when Yuuri was so relaxed he could go to the bottom of his feelings and reach him. But somewhere, in the back of his mind, a voice said that this wouldn't be enough. That a little conversation between a student and coach wouldn't fix their broken bond of whatever relationship they had. Viktor stood up and stretched his arms, a small sigh leaving his lips. Then he turned to Yuuri and said „Let's go to the rink.“ Yuuri looked up at him, holding a note in his hand. His brows furrowed. „Viktor, I think the rink is closed, it's pretty late.“ Viktor flashed a smile at him and winked. „Yeah, but now that we worked on your routines I want to try them out.“ Actually that wasn't a lie. And it would be even better if he could bring Yuuri like that to the rink. „Trust me, the rink will be open.“ He seemed to consider what Viktor said, and then he slowly nodded in agreement. Viktor beamed at him and went to grab the bag he had prepared last night. „You don't have to bring anything, I already packed everything.“ he smiled. After that they walked the short distance to the rink in silence. Viktor noticed how Yuuri was lost in his thoughts, like so often, but he wouldn't lower his head and the silence between them was not crushing or heavy, it was kind of comfortable. Viktor hoped that this wasn't just his imagination. When they arrived at the rink, the old caretaker Viktor had known since he started training at the rink walked towards them. He smiled brightly at him and handed him the keys of the rink. „Vitya, I know you better than any other skater here, but if you get caught Yakov will fire me personally.“ then his gaze wandered of to Yuuri who just stood there awkwardly, not able to follow the conversation. He greeted him with a simple „Hello“ with a thick Russian accent, before turning to Viktor again and saying in Russian: „But I understand. It's not unusual for two lovebirds wanting to 'practice' alone.“ He smiled sly, and Viktor felt his face and ears heat up under his innuendos. He coughed and prayed that Yuuri wouldn't get a drift of their conversation, or even recognize that something was off with the tone of the caretaker. „Vanya, we are not like that, we wouldn't do-“ then the loud laugh of the caretaker interrupted him. „My, I've never seen you this flustered before Vitya.“ then he smiled softly at him. „That's good. I think the world deserves to see this Viktor.“ Viktor felt his heart throb and a smile began to split his face. Then he remembered that he still had something in his bag that was determined to get to his benefactor. „I brought you a gift...“ he said, and pulled out a bottle of the favorite vodka of the older Russian. He just put a hand to his heart and made a fake shocked, yet also relieved expression. He thanked Viktor and then turned to Yuuri, saying „Have fun.“, and Yuuri just smiled brightly back at him. As they went through the empty and dim lighted corridors, Viktor noticed how long it has been since he was alone at the rink and saw it so empty. It was calming, but back then it was also lonely. When they reached the locker room, Viktor put the heavy bag down at one bench, and then turned around to look at Yuuri. He just gazed at him with a faint, amused smile. „So, are you finally going to tell me why you bribed Vanya with vodka to come here practically in the middle of the night?“ he said, his smile widened. Viktor smiled back at him but he felt nervousness rise in the pit of his stomach. „I thought...“ he started, not knowing how to end the sentence. Suddenly Viktor was hit by the realization that he hadn't thought about what he would say to Yuuri. Get Yuuri to the rink was the only thing he had in mind the whole time, and after that was finished he was too distracted with the possible new routines for Yuuris skating. How could he forget that? That was the most crucial part. Yuuri shouldn't think that Viktor saw him as weak or belittled him, he told him back in Hasetsu how afraid he was to be seen as weak. Viktor averted his gaze and bit his lip, he started to massage his neck in a nervous gesture. He took a deep breath before he spoke again. „I just thought that you was really stressed in the past weeks, and that you were probably homesick. And I'm truly sorry that I didn't try to help you, really Yuuri. But, now I thought that I wanted to recreate the rink at Hasetsu, because you always train when something is on your mind, but here it's hard to do because its always full of people and you can't speak Russian and…“ Viktor felt how blood rushed into his cheeks and ears. The room was suddenly filled with an uncomfortable silence, and everything that Viktor could think of was crap, I messed up, I shouldn't have brought him here, I should have just spoken to him, I should have thought about what I to say, I should have googled how to calm somebody down. I should have- By the sound of Yuuri giggling he looked up, his own face so genuine surprised that he immediately tried to cover that expression of himself up. „So you wanted to distract me?“ he asked, and his voice and eyes were so soft and had a fondness in them that had his heart melting, or rather burning. He could only nod. Yuuris smile got even a little wider and he pointed at the bag, asking with a still incredibly soft voice, like he was talking to a lost kid „What else did you bring with you?“Viktor smiled bashfully at him and zipped the bag open. „Like I said, I wanted to recreate the time in Hasetsu, so I took your costumes from last season with me, and-“ he stopped and pulled a pink top out, his heart beating fast as he held it up to show it clearly. „And our exhibition skate.“ he added and smiled softly at Yuuri. And he was more than glad when Yuuri smiled back at him. Viktor didn't know how long they spent on the ice skating in their old costumes to music from Viktors cellphone as they plugged it in the speakers. The rink with its wide, open windows let the world outside look completely back, and it felt as if only the rink and both of them existed. Yuuri skated some of his old routines from junior days, solely based on muscle memory, and mixed in some jumps and elements from other routines. Of course Viktor recognized all his routines, he had binge watched them as they lived apart, but he never told Yuuri because he thought that it would be embarrassing for him. Viktor was struck by how gorgeous Yuuri looked. His movements were relaxed, graceful and his expression calm, and completely withdrawn into himself. Viktor thought that Yuuri wouldn't skate any differently if he were alone, and that made Viktors heart warm up. Yuuri could relax with him and didn't have to think about anything. Then Viktor skated some of his old routines, which Yuuri could all reconize and name together with the costume he wore, in which year and the music he choose back then. Yuuris laugh resonated in the empty rink and in Viktor himself, as he told him that the moves were all wrong. Viktor had to confess that he mostly forgot his old routines, for which he received a dirty look from Yuuri. However, that didn't stop Yuuri from begging Viktor to skate the routine from when Viktor still fit in the Eros costume, the one Yuuri was now wearing. When one of them was exhausted they switched with skating and the other one stood by the rink barrier and cheered loudly or stayed silent and watched in awe how the other body glided over the ice. Mostly it was Viktor who had to rest because Yuuris stamina was still way above his own level, and partly because he couldn't take his eyes of Yuuri when he skated so perfectly relaxed, the Yuuri he knew and loved glowing on the ice, and it made Viktor fall in love all over again. Sometimes they skated together, moving effortlessly hand in hand and lifting the other, which resulted in casual touching. Feeling Yuuris firm body twist and turn under his palm, and being allowed to touch him so freely made Viktor smile uncontrollably. But he was a little too distracted from touching Yuuri, so that they often stumbled or fell on the ice. But it didn't matter. Yuuri seemed to enjoy every second, he was giggling and beaming at him, and Viktor felt a tug on his heartstrings that made it hard to breathe. When they both laid on the ice, sunken together from laughter, Viktor decided it was a good time to pop the bottle of vodka he kept in his bag. When Viktor came out of the locker room with the bottle in his hands and a shy smile on his lips, Yuuri grinned. They sat down on a bench and Yuuri took the first sip. „I'm impressed, you didn't even scrunch your nose.“ he teased. Yuuri smiled at him and said in a playful voice „Viktor, how many glasses of champagne did I drink again at the banquet?“ Viktor laughed. „I think this would be more fun if you got easier drunk.“ he laughed and thought back at the Yuuri at the banquet, how adorable he clung to him and asked if he could become his coach. He reached out to the bottle to take a sip, but Yuuri didn't let go. Instead, his fingers brushed lightly against Viktors. He slowly moved closer to Viktor, leaning forward with a half-lidded gaze and a smug grin splitting his features, and Viktors breath caught in his chest because he looked so gorgeous and was so incredible close. „Are you saying that you don't have fun now?“ he teased in a low voice, and it drove Viktor crazy. He felt a tug on his heartstrings and blood rushing into his head, and at the same time in the opposite direction. Viktor opened his mouth, but he didn't know what to respond. His gaze shifted to Yuuris smirking lips, and he expected them to tell him what had gotten into Yuuri. Suddenly, Yuuri stood up, filled with a new kind of determination as he looked down at Viktor, smiling brightly as if the last couple of seconds only happened in Viktors mind. Fuck. „I think I'm inspired! Turn the music on!“ he said and glided to the center of the ice. Viktor tried to calm his breathing. Just because Yuuri made some allusions it didn't mean anything, it was even more likely that he made them unconscious. Viktor had witnessed first hand how oblivious Yuuri could be. Yuuris low self-esteem often led to Yuuri missing things or not recognizing them as they were meant: Viktor saw the reactions of others when Yuuri skated. They were awe struck, they were captivated. And still Yuuri would call himself a dime-a-dozen skater. Also, he missed all those hungry and lustful eyes that were laid on him, and Viktor often had to step between a fan and Yuuri when the other got too touchy. Not to mention the time Yuuri grind on Viktor in public, and looking up at him with the innocent face of a child, not believing that he ever could do something wrong. Viktor covered his mouth to hide the smile that was forming on his face. Seeing that Yuuri again would definitely be worth a watch. Then he looked through his phone, and a sly grin split his face. That would surprise him. When the first tones of Toxic began to play he turned around to Yuuri, but he was already caught up in a routine, his smile bright and moving his lips with the lyrics, mimicking the furrowed brows and the breathless pronunciation. Viktor couldn't take his eyes of him. It certainly didn't look spontaneous, and Viktor could see here and there a movement from another routine. And even though it had some similarities with the Eros routine, it was less serious and he seemed to have more control of his charms, Yuuris hips swaying more, his expression passionate. This side of Yuuri took Viktor completely by surprise. „Yuuri, you own me an apology! Someone who claims Eros is too much skates such a routine?“ he said with a fake pout as Yuuri skated towards him, laughing. „Do you think we could use this as a new routine?“ he asked, trying to keep his face straight and his tone serious, tapping a long finger against his lips. „Then Phichit would be my choreographer.“ he laughed, leaning his forearms against the rink barrier. „Phichit?“ Yuuri nodded. „We used to skate to some songs in Detroit when the rink was empty and somehow it developed in routines to different songs. It Detroit were fewer people, and everyone did that to their favorite songs, and Phichit convinced me to do it too.“ Viktor leaned forward and lowered his voice to a sugary sweet tone. „To what songs did you skate besides Toxic?“ Yuuri also leaned a little more forward, and it made Viktors breath hitch in his chest. „Everything from Britney Spears and the Pussy Cat dolls. And Milkshake, Pony, Wannabe...“ he said, his long dark lashes casting shadows on his face and his voice so warm and low it send a warm shiver down Viktors spine. „I see a trend… except for the last one.“ Yuuri chuckled. „Sometimes you have to switch things up a bit.“ he responded. Viktor gulped as he felt his heart beat in his throat. They were so close that it would only take a little push to close the distance between them, less than a second and Viktor would feel that smirk on his lips. Instead, he pulled away and looked to the bench where they were previously sitting. „We should finish the bottle, we don't want to let it go to waste, right?“ I decided to write 3 chapters now because I realized how long he second chapter would have been, but I will probably upload it tomorrow because I just have to edit it I hope you enjoyed the chapter at least a little bit ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- After they took turns in drinking and shockingly realised how fast the bottle got empty, they broke out in loud laughter and giggling, which they couldn't stop for a long time and Yuuris head slumped powerless against Viktors shoulder for a couple of seconds as they tried to catch their breaths. Then they stumbled on the ice, still laughing and falling way more than it was appropriate for two world-class figure skaters, but they just couldn't bring themselves to care.They weren't drunk. At least not really. It was more a pleasant, warm buzzing feeling in their bodies.When they tried to skate their exhibition skate, Viktor was too distracted by the way Yuuris lean muscles moved under the dark fabric to realize that he should actually lift Yuuri up, and suddenly they laid on the ice. As Viktor stared at the ceiling and tried to understand what had happened Yuuris head plopped into his field of vision, and he suddenly understood that the weight that pressed him into the ice was Yuuri. He looked worried, his brows furrowed, and tugged a strand of hair with tender fingers behind Viktors ear. Suddenly a smile appeared on Yuuris face that slowly got wider, and after a short snort from Viktor Yuuri rolled of him and they both laughed until they had tears in the corners of their eyes and their stomachs hurt.After they had calmed down they both looked at the ceiling, still laying on the ice. Yuuris hand was so close to Viktors that he felt the heat radiating from him. It was a calming feeling to have somebody next to him after he fell, even as the cold bit merciless into his back.„I used to come to the rink alone at night when I was younger, just practicing my jumps or my routines. But I never had so much fun before.“ he said to Yuuri, turning his face to look at him. Yuuri smiled at him, his eyes softly gleaming, his chest raising and lowering fast from exhaustion. Then they turned away to look at the ceiling again, still close but not touching. Both gasping in the peaceful silence.„You know“ Yuuri said. Viktor turned to look at him, but Yuuri furrowed his brows and bit on his lower lip, like he weighed every word he would say, not looking at Vikor. „I'm sorry about the last weeks. I know you just want to help, but I hate being a burden to anyone, and especially to you.“ he let out a shaky breath. „And I'm around you all the time and you do so much for me already, that's why I don't want you having to keep track of my mental state or my insecurities. I will get used to St Petersburg and the people here, so you don't have to worry.“ he said, turning to finally look at Viktors face. The artificial smile on Yuuris face made Viktors heart twinge in pain and anger.He sat up to look at Yuuri. „Yuuri, you're not a burden. I never once thought something like that since I met you.“ he said with determination and even a little anger in his voice, something so unusual for him. „And what are you apologizing for? I'm your coach, your- your friend, its only natural that you are important to me and that I care about you.“ Yuuri finally looked at him, hesitant and brows furrowed, like he didn't know what to think anymore.Then he added softer, his voice fragile. „In fact, I should have done something sooner, and I'm sorry.“ Yuuri opened his mouth to say something, but Viktor just put his hand up to silence him. „The only thing I want is that you talk to me. About little things, or big things, just talk to me and don't bottle everything inside you where I can't reach you. I can't stand next to you and pretend not to notice how you begin to crumble and fall apart.“ he said desperately and Yuuri pressed his lips together and stared Viktor in the eyes.„Please.“ Viktor plead, and he noticed how weak and vulnerable his voice sounded, like all the frustration he had felt over the past weeks escaped in that one word.Yuuri looked at him, somewhat shocked but with soft eyes, and Viktor withheld his gaze. Yuuri nodded, slowly at first ad then with determination. He sat up and slung his arms around Viktors back and pressed him firmly against his chest, buried his nose in the crook of Viktors neck. „Okay.“ he said, his voice breathy and Viktor felt Yuuris tears dripping fast and hot on his costume. Viktor smiled relieved and let out a sigh. He wrapped his arms around Yuuri, burying his face in Yuuris shivering shoulder. Viktor felt his legs going numb from the cold, but he didn't care, he just wanted to hold Yuuri as close as possible, forever.But then Yuuri pulled away, a hesitant smile on his lips, his face red from crying. „This is maybe not the best timing, but I thought of a routine.“ Viktor smiled softly at him, wiping on his now dry cheeks. „There's never a wrong timing for skating. I'd love to see the routine.“ Yuuris eyes got soft and a slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.„Don't expect anything too impressive.“ he warned, and Viktor pouted and flicked his forehead lightly. Yuuris eyes widened in shock, and then he snorted.Viktor skated to the rink barrier and got off the ice, then he held his thumb up and send a reassuring smile at Yuuri. He skated into the center of the rink, taking in a start position.He skated without music, but Yuuri always seemed to make music with his body, his moves sometimes soft and tender and other times passionate. His movements reminded him of Yuuris short and free program, but there was something new, something that Viktor couldn't describe at first. Yuuri smiled and looked absolutely stunning. His whole expression and movements were so lively, he was brimming over with life, and he looked like he had so much fun as he poured his emotions on the ice. When the routine ended, the scraping of Yuuris skates on the ice echoed in the rink as he took in his ending position. Viktor felt how his eyes got wet, and he quickly blinked the tears away. Yuuris gaze was full of happiness. He looked like a kid that managed to ride a bike or do a handstand for the first time.Viktor couldn't help but smile back at him.Yuuri skated in a fast pace towards him, and with a sharp scraping of his skates he stood before Viktor. With a quick movement Yuuri pulled Viktor on his collar towards him, until hot, soft lips collided with his own.Viktor forgot how to breath.He even forgot to close his eyes.Then Yuuri pulled away, raising his eyebrows and waiting for Viktors reaction, still panting hard from his skating. Viktor opened his mouth to say something, but his mind was completely blank. The kiss wasn't impressive. It was sweet and fast, but the fact that Yuuri Katsuki had kissed him, kissed him, was overwhelming and Viktor couldn't comprehend anything. Blood rushed in his ears and in his cheeks, and his heart pounded painfully hard against his ribcage.„Viktor?“ Yuuri asked, his brows furrowed, and cupped Viktors face with one hand. Viktor flinched at the contact. „Are you alright?“„Uh, yeah, I just- just assumed that you...“ he stuttered, and Yuuri curiously raised one eyebrow. Viktor let out a deep sigh and folded his hands above his mouth and nose and closed his eyes. „I thought you didn't see me that way. I-I thought you see me as a couch or maybe a friend, but nothing beyond that.“ he finally managed to say. When he opened his eyes again Yuuri looked at him with a bewildered expression.„That doesn't make sense?“ Yuuri said, and they both stared at each other. „I-I mean we slept in the same bed?“ Yuuri continued, not less confused.„I thought it was more convenient? And that you would tell me if you wanted your own.“„We kissed. Twice now. And all the hugging and touching- what did you think that was?“ he asked, and Viktor could see how hurt Yuuri was. He gulped.„I thought… that you maybe didn't want to kiss me back then. Because I just did it, but now I know because you-“ Viktor gulped again, cutting himself off. „And the other things… I thought you got used to touching and just played along.“„Viktor, I bought you a ring! A wedding ring!“ Yuuri said angrily, stretching his right hand out and pointing at the shimmering ring with his left.„But despite the ring you still wanted me to quit being your coach.“ He said quietly, but when the words left his mouth he realized how wrong they were. They had talked about it, and he understood why Yuuri acted that way in the past. Viktor bit his lip, already thinking of an apology.But to his surprise Yuuri just said „I know.“ and looked down at his skates. Then he looked up, and his eyes were desperate yet determined. „But me coming here… doesn't that mean that I want to be together with you? I don't want you to be my friend or coach. And I know I have to learn to be more honest with myself, but please believe me. This is what I want. You are what I want.“ Yuuri said, and a light blush tinted his cheeks.Viktor felt a heavy tug on his heartstrings, and a whimper left is lips as his throat painfully closed up. „So...“ he said with a faint voice. Yuuri smiled at him softly, his eyes warm and reached for Viktors face to slowly pull him closer.„I love you, Viktor.“ he said in a low voice, brown eyes staring in blue, and then there were his lips again, plump and hot against his own. Viktor reveled in the feeling of finally having Yuuri, of touching him and in the feeling of his racing heart. He put his hands at Yuuris back, trying to pull him closer, to feel him more, but the barrier separated them effortlessly.Suddenly Yuuri licked into Viktors mouth, and he flinched at the unknown touch from Yuuri. He could feel the grin on Yuuris lips as he hungrily kissed him, fighting for dominance Viktor didn't mind to give in to. Viktors mind was so blank, he only wanted to touch Yuuris whole body, feel him squirm under his palm, feel the lean muscles in that tight costume. Viktor wondered how far Yuuri would let him go, where was it alright to touch and where not? Where was Yuuris limit? Viktor definitely wanted to find out.So he slid his hand to Yuuris neck, feeling the tender skin damp and shivering under his touch, and pulled him closer to deepen the kiss. Then he slowly let the hand that was previously placed on Yuuris back wander lower, until he reached Yuuris ass and gave it a tight squeeze. Yuuri twitched and moaned at the unexpected touch. He pulled away from Viktors lips, his cheeks flushed and eyes dark, and then he claimed Viktors lips again, aggressively bit his lip which send a shiver down Viktors spine and a tension began to build in the pit of his stomach. Yuuris hands wandered to Viktors chest, his hands slipping under Viktors top through his low neckline. He barely touched him, but the feel of Yuuris cold fingertips made him want more, he wanted to press himself against Yuuri until their breaths would fuse together.Suddenly Yuuri drew his lips back. They were only separated by a couple of centimeters, and Yuuri panted hard against Viktors lips, his eyes dark with lust. He pointed wordless to a bench, and Viktor understood. As soon as there was no barrier between them anymore, they began kissing roughly again, Yuuri clutching his hands into the strands of Viktors hair, and Viktor reveled in the feeling of finally pressing Yuuris body to his own. Yuuri moved forward and Viktor backwards like they were dancing. Then Viktor felt something in the back of his knees and Yuuris hands firmly pressed him down on his shoulders, until he sat down at the bench. Yuuri grinned at him from above and then straddled Viktor legs. He gulped.„Yuuri, maybe we should-“ then he was cut off from Yuuris kiss and he felt his heart melt. Yuuri pulled away to smile at him, his lips cherry red and a blush creeping up his cheeks. Viktor thought that he never looked more beautiful. Yuuri brought his hand to Viktors, intertwined them, and brought their hands to his mouth to kiss Viktors knuckles without breaking eye contact. Viktor felt a throb of desire in his groin, and he bit his lip. Then he began kissing Viktor again, rough and hot, his fingers clutched tightly into his hair. Viktor hissed at the pain but also welcomed it, he hoped this would at least help him restrain himself a little before he lost himself completely in Yuuri. He just wanted a little more. He knew when to stop.He put his hands on Yuuris waist and hip, feeling the firm muscles under his touch. Viktor kissed Yuuris neck, sucking and biting love bites into the delicate flesh and drawing soft moans out of Yuuri that had Viktor grinning into his skin. Yuuris legs began to shiver, and Viktor let his hands roam over them.„Viktor...“ Yuuri moaned, and Viktor smiled as he placed a kiss on Yuuris neck. Then, when Yuuri unexpectedly rolled his hips, a loud moan escaped Viktors lips. Viktor repressed the urge to cover his mouth.Yuuri looked at him with wide eyes, like he couldn't believe that such a sound came from Viktor, but then a smug grin appeared on his face. Viktor turned his gaze away and tried to calm his lower regions. Then he felt hands slid under his top. Viktors breath hitched and he felt how his heart started pounding painfully in his chest. He looked surprised at Yuuri who just undid his buttons with a content smile on his face. Viktor wondered briefly if he should stop Yuuris hands. Maybe the alcohol affected Yuuri more than expected? If that was the case, then he would definitely regret this later.But then there were Yuuris hot lips on his, and on his collarbone and bit gently into his skin and sucked greedy, leaving bright red marks on his skin, and every rational thought was drawn out of his mind. Yuuri placed little pecks on his chest, but as his hand thoughtlessly stroked his nipple Viktor moaned loudly. Viktor felt his face heat up, but Yuuri only stopped for a couple of seconds to grin up to him before he carefully caressed his nipple again. Viktor bit his lip ad tried to ignore the tug in his lower region.„Yuuri, ple-ase.“ he said, but mid sentence Yuuri twisted his nipple. Viktor saw bright flashes and he had to lose his eyes to not get swept away. He needed a couple of seconds to calm himself down before he could look at Yuuri again. He still kissed his chest, then he pulled Viktors top down, exposing Viktors bare, pale shoulder. Viktor shivered in the cold air. Yuuri bit gently into his shoulder, and whispered against his skin „Watch me.“Viktor nodded absentmindedly. Yuuri pulled away and smiled at him, his eyes dark and sizzling, a dangerous gleam in them before he leaned down to place a soft kiss on Viktors lips. Then he kissed his way down, until he had to get down on his knees. Yuuri smiled up at him innocently as he sat between Viktors legs. Viktors heart leaped in his chest and he felt his heartbeat in his throat, on his tongue and fingertips.Yuuri began to carefully and gently stroke his legs from his ankle, up to his calf up to his outer tights. Viktor wondered why it felt so good just when Yuuri touched him. „Yuuri, what-“ Suddenly Yuuri pinched him, but Viktor tried to pull himself together. „There's no need to rush, we can take our time.“ Viktor said, his eyes tightly shut, because he knew the sight of Yuuri would affect his thinking.„Look at me.“Viktor slowly opened his eyes and looked at Yuuri, placed between his legs and looking up at him with a serious expression. „I'm not going to run away anymore. And I want to do this. For-“ Yuuri finally got enough decency to blush and avert his gaze. „For a really long time. So please.“ Viktors heart squeezed and he leaned down to give Yuuri a gentle kiss on his forehead. „Okay.“ he replied with a slight smile. Viktor saw bright flashes of light before his closed eyes, and he felt his body go weak and embarrassingly responsive, his moans so loud that he was scared they would echo still the next day in the rink.He couldn't distinguish anymore if he shivered from the cold air or from Yuuris hot mouth wrapped around him and the waves of pleasure he drowned in. It was strange how Yuuri had all these hidden talents, and this was certainly one of them. He easily made Viktor come apart beneath him, like he just needed to pull on a thread that held Viktor together.Viktor was a weak, weak man, and he never wanted anything so desperately in his life.Yuuri gently pushed Viktors inner tights apart when Viktor was to caught up in his pleasure to realize that he had closed them. Sometimes he pinched in the firm flesh of his tights, and each time it left Viktor shuddering. „Fuck.“ Viktor breathed out as Yuuri flicked the tip with his tongue, the steady flow of precome making it gradually easier to move for Yuuri. It took all his strength not to thrust into Yuuris mouth, to grab his hair and pull him down until his cock reached the back of his throat.His legs were shaking and he clutched one hand into Yuuris hair. Alone by the sounds Yuuri made he felt on edge. And strangely, Yuuri seemed to enjoy it as much as he did. When Viktor shot a quick glance down at Yuuri his face was red and he had a blissed out expression on his face. As Viktor let out a particular loud moan he felt Yuuris mouth form a smile and it made Viktor breathless. He felt like he could come any second. The only thoughts left in his shattered brain were that he loved Yuuri to death.When Viktor almost tipped over the edge, gripping Yuuris hair tightly and moaning his name, Yuuri suddenly drew back. Viktor gasped at the lost of his warm, lovely mouth, his world sliding in and out of focus, mixing everything to a blur. Then he looked down at Yuuri, still panting. Viktor couldn't think. He only knew that his dick was aching at the sight of Yuuris wet, red lips and his disheveled hair. Yuuri seductively smiled up at him, his voice sweet and innocent.„Didn't I told you to watch me?“Viktor nodded desperately and let out a small whimper as Yuuri swallowed Viktors length. Yuuri seemed to be even more eager now, trying to take him deeper as he relaxed his throat. Viktor groaned in surprise as his tip hit the back of Yuuris throat and then went even deeper. Before he could recollect himself Yuuri flexed his throat and squeezed, bobbing his head in a rhythm that drove all thoughts out of Viktors mind. And then Yuuri looked up at him, his pupils blown wide and innocent, as if he wanted to ask „Is this good?“ while his red lips were wrapped around his dick.Viktor almost tipped over the edge, which was embarrassingly fast, and he thought about looking away. But he couldn't. Not when Yuuri looked like that.So Viktor trembled, moaned loudly and gripped Yuuris hair and stuttered. „Y-yuuri, I'm gonna...“ to which Yuuri just responded with an encouraging hum. He felt the vibration in his whole body, and he couldn't help but to thrust sharp into Yuuris mouth, once, twice, until he came.When he came down from his orgasm he looked at Yuuri as he pulled away with a wet sound. Yuuri put his fingers carefully to his throat, and then looked up at Viktor, a small, nervous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Viktor leaned down and gently stroked Yuuris jaw. „Yuuri, I'm sorry I was too forceful. You didn't need to…“ he said, but Yuuri smiled softly at him and leaned up to his face to give him a peck on the lips.„I said I wanted this right?“ he asked, his voice hoarse, and Viktor felt his dick throb.„I could do it too, you know. For you.“ he suggested, cupping Yuuris face with one hand.„No, I-I think I don't want that.“ he answered, his face blushing harder and averting his gaze. Viktor felt his heart beat against his ribage. His mouth got dry in anticipation.„That's okay, we can- umm. Which one do you prefer?“ he managed to get out. Yuuri looked at him confused, but then his eyes widened and he strongly shook his head. „No, I didn't think about that, I just, uhm...“ he trailed off, covering his face in his hands. Viktor looked at him, brows furrowed.„There...“ Yuuri exhaled. „There is nothing for you to take care of. Anymore.“ he said, muffled by his hands. Viktor couldn't repress the smile that started to form on his face and he gently touched Yuuris shoulder. „Yuuri, did you-“ Suddenly Yuuri looked up, his face a deeper red Viktor had ever seen. „Don't say it! It's so embarrassing, I feel like a teenager.“ He said and buried his face again in his hands.Viktor smiled and leaned down until he was directly beside Yuuris ear. „I think the Eros costume is now even sexier.“ he said in a teasing, seductive tone, and Yuuri looked up to flick his forehead. By the time they were done with showering ans changing it was already 3am. When they stepped out of the rink they locked the door like responsible adults and not like two people who got drunk at the rink and participated in some 'adult activities'.The air was now even colder and the city was deserted and laid dark before them. And as Viktor held Yuuris hand in complete silence until they got home, Viktor and Yuuri felt that now their life together really began.When Viktor opened the door to their apartment both of them tried to be as quiet as possible to not wake Makkachin. Yuuri fell completely exhausted and with his coat still on into bed and let out a sigh. Because they didn't close the curtains during the day, the streetlights were shining mellow light into the bedroom, and only the vague forms of the furniture were visible. That resulted in Viktor nearly tripping over a toy from Makkachin, and Yuuri let out a soft laughter.Viktor fell besides Yuuri on the bed and sank into the soft cushion. He turned to face Yuuri and tugged some loose strands of his hair carefully behind his ear and took his glasses off.„Yuuri, you have to get changed.“Yuuri only hummed sleepy with closed eyes and seemed to revel in Viktors touch. Viktors heart felt like it was overflowing with happiness and devotion and love. Yuuri slowly opened his eyes and smiled softly at him. Then he cupped Viktors face, stroking the skin in a gentle motion which made Viktors heart melt. „Who did you practice that with?“ he asked in a teasing tone. Yuuris smile widened and he ran his fingers in slow, lazy movements through Viktors hair.„With your posters of course.“ Viktor chuckled at the thought.„All this from posters? Should I be jealous?“ Yuuri pulled Viktor close to place a soft kiss on his lips.„No. But maybe you should be jealous of Phichit, because with him I practiced too.“„Yuuri, please, you're breaking my heart.“Yuuri chuckled and kissed him again. „It was a joke. He did suggest it though.“ Viktor flicked Yuuris forehead and Yuuri laughed a little louder than he should at this hour. „Okay I'll stop!“ Viktor leaned forward to kiss his forehead and then he got up, grabbing his phone.„I'll let Yakov know that were taking a day off.“ he said, alraedy typing.„Yakov will not be very happy when we take two days off.“ Yuuri said smiling while taking off his clothes and walking to the dresser to find some comfy clothes. Viktor couldn't help but drink in the sight of Yuuri in underwear, and he felt a twinge in his lower regions. He gulped. „Viktor?“ Yuuri asked amused, noticing the way he looked at his body.„I would really appreciate if you wouldn't put clothes on.“„And I would really appreciate if you would look me in the eyes.“ Yuuri laughed. „But fine, if that's what you want...“ he said, and Viktor felt his heart beat fast as Yuuri laid into the bed just clothed in boxer briefs that left very little to the imagination.Viktor felt the heat rise in his face and he clumsily discarded his clothes in the dark, which made Yuuri laugh in a low voice. Then he slipped under the covers and snuggled up against Yuuris collarbone and wrapped his cold hands around Yuuri. Yuuri hissed because of the cold and his back arched which made Viktor press a smile into Yuuris exposed skin, and he felt Yuuris shoulder shiver from laughter under his palm. Then Viktor placed little, soft pecks on Yuuris face and neck, and Yuuri giggling in delight was like music.„I love you too.“ was the last thing he heard as he drifted off to sleep, and he thought he never needed anything else as long as Yuuri just would always say those words and mean them. The sunlight shone brightly through the window and woke Viktor up. He sighed, but then noticed the warm body he was pressed against, and he couldn't control his smile. He pulled away to lay his head next to Yuuri, and he felt his heart squeeze painfully in his chest as he remembered that Yuuri told him he loved him. Yuuri loved him.Viktor felt overwhelmed with joy. He gently tugged a loose strand of hair behind Yuuris ear, and his smile widened as Yuuri sighed like he enjoyed the touch. Viktor stroked across Yuuris pale, perfect skin and drank in the sight of Yuuris long, dark lashes and his full lips.Suddenly he was reminded of those lips, red and plump and hot around his cock, and he felt heat rise in the pit of his gut. He still couldn't believe that Yuuri did that, and there was still guilt lingering inside him because he didn't reciprocate the favor. He definitely had to change that. But now he had to get those pictures out of his had, so he picked up his phone and glanced at the time. It wasn't too late to go to the rink and train a bit, but Viktor just didn't want to leave the warm bed.He read the text from Yakov. „VIKTOR I KNOW YOU WERE AT THE RINK AGAIN! YOU SHOULD LEAVE IVAN AND KATSUKI ALONE! You know he always shares the vodka he gets from you with me, right?"Viktor rolled his eyes but smiled softly. Then he read Yurios text.„God dammit Viktor can't you fucking control yourself? At least PICK UP YOUR TRASH INSTEAD LETTING REAL SKATERS STUMBLE ON IT!“ Viktor snorted at the similarities between Yakov and Yurio. Then he felt Yuuri move beside him and he glanced down to him. After a couple of seconds of disorientation he looked up to Viktor with sleepy, soft eyes and an even softer smile that made Viktors heart melt.„Morning. What are you doing?“ he asked, rubbing his eyes like a kid. Viktor fully slid back under the covers and pressed a kiss to Yuuris forehead. „Morning, solunshka. I was just reminded of that amazing thing you did yesterday.“ he said in a teasing voice. „Oh, you mean the skating? Yeah, that was really fun.“ Yuuri said, not in the least affected, and intertwined his own hand with Viktors.„Yuuri!“ Viktor whined, and Yuuri only chuckled before he leaned close to Viktors ear and whispered seductively, „If you think that was amazing then you will be overwhelmed by the things yet to come.“ Viktor felt a warm shiver run down his spine.„Can you give examples?“„You.“ he answered in a low, husky voice, and if it weren't such a bad pun then maybe Viktor would have blushed.„God Yuuri, you're killing me.“ he said theatrically, covering his eyes with his hands and Yuuri giggled. Then he gently caressed Viktors face, his lips and his hair, and Viktor reveled in Yuuris touch. Suddenly, he said in an absentminded voice, like he was talking to himself „I want to do you.“ and Viktors heart stopped for a second before it began to beat twice as fast.„What?“ he asked, curiously glancing at Yuuri. He looked almost surprised that he said something like that. „I said that I want to do you, or top you, or, um...“ he said nervously. „Or, actually it would probably be better when you would-“ Viktor stilled him with a soft and tender kiss and then gently cupped Yuuris face.„I'd love to. I'm fine with anything as long as it's with you.“Yuuri blinked in surprise before a smirk appeared on his face. Then he said playfully „Don't provoke me too much, I have way more stamina than you.“ Viktor felt his cheeks heat up under Yuuris half-lidded gaze, and he hummed in delight.„Maybe we should try it out right now?“ „I really like the idea. But don't take your eyes of me.“Viktor smiled back at him and he thought I never could even if I wanted to. So that was the last chapter!I really hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it
10631193	Remains Wind	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Link (Legend of Zelda), Teba (Legend of Zelda), Revali (Legend of Zelda)", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Hylian Shadow (Hylian_Shadow)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-15T00:00:00", "words": "3,768", "Additional Tags": "Introspection, Violence, Spoilers", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	"All right. It's showtime," Teba says, his voice just audible over the wind rushing in Link's ears. "Man, even I feel like I'm going to freeze up here!"It is cold, bitterly so. Link is doing his best to not think about the icy little daggers scratching at his cheeks as they move and at the stinging in his nose with every breath. He has warm clothing. He isn't going to freeze to death.(if only that were the only death he needs to fear)The Divine Beast is massive. No, more than massive. He turns the words over in his head as Teba flies them closer. Huge, tremendous, gargantuan... None of them seem large enough to encompass the colossal bird growing even more enormous as they approach.(even the immense behemoth is tiny compared to the vast sky)Something crackles in the distance, the air prickling with energy even where Link and Teba fly, and Vah Medoh surrounds itself with a gigantic red shell, one that is (somehow) even more mammoth than the Beast itself. The strange fire-dust-metal-lightning scent he's come to associate with ancient magic rises in the air."It has its barrier up again. What a pain..." Teba says. "What's wrong, Link? Too scared to talk?""No," Link replies. He's merely keeping his thoughts to himself, as always."All right." Teba goes over the plan, the beautiful simple plan. He provides a distraction. Link provides the destruction. With skill and more than a little luck, they'll bring down the barrier and enter Vah Medoh.(once inside he frees it from calamity ganon somehow)(he's just a knight he's not a scholar)"It's up to you!" Teba yells as Link leaps off his back. The Rito surges forward with several powerful beats of his wings.Link tightens his grip on his paraglider. The Divine Beast looms ahead of him, massive and mighty and monstrous. He can see one of the cannons Teba mentioned on its front. He glides towards it, takes a deep breath (icy cold and tinged with the taste of laser-fire), and lets himself start falling.(he's falling he's plummeting -- and he holds his breath and raises his bow and time itself slows for him and instead he sinks slowly and gently into the vast sky as he takes aim and he fires and the cannon explodes)(and then he needs to breathe and his focus breaks and time moves and he's falling falling)He's gliding again, circling the Beast's massive bulk, catching his breath. Teba shouts something at him, most likely encouragement, and swoops towards the Beast again.One of the other cannons fires from its perch in the distance, but the blue-white beam isn't aimed at either of them. Link closes with it, watching as it turns in place to aim at Teba. It explodes before it can fire.(he holds his breath and time waits for him)The remaining cannons fall just as quickly, succumbing quickly to the force of well-aimed bomb arrows. They do not fall quietly. More than one shot comes too close for Link's comfort, and Teba catches at least one blast to his side, though he at least manages to recover.Something explodes, and the massive glowing red barrier fades. The colossal bird seems even more colossal now as Link glides towards it. He doesn't know what's down there, but he knows his only option is to land on it."Bad news, Link," Teba says after circling around to glide near him. His movement isn't as graceful as before. It's slightly awkward, pained. "It looks like I got hit pretty good back here... I think... I think I need to get back to the Flight Range."Link smells it then, faintly, blood and burned feathers."I just hope that... I can make it back..."Link glances towards him. "You'll make it." (this is nothing a warrior can't handle)Teba gives Link a thumbs-up and a nod. "You head down to Medoh. Good luck!" He twists in the air, curving back towards the Flight Range and losing altitude fast.Link watches him as he vanishes into the distance. His flight seems stable enough, so... Yes, he'll make it.Link feels tinier now. Teba is gone, and Vah Medoh looms beneath him, and the sky is so impossibly vast. He seems insignificant. He tells himself it's merely his nerves (he lies) and continues onward.Vah Medoh crackles with malice even before he lands on it; flickering sparks of hate rise from its stone-metal surface like embers from a massive fire. Even though he's outside and there's a constant wind from all the motion, the air smells of rust and decay and tastes of ash and copper and something bitter that he can't place. (the malice hates and this place hates and he hates) It's cold being up so high, even with his thick, warm clothing, and already he wants to be down on the ground where it's warmer.(but he doesn't want to look down, no, down is rito village and the stables and the lake and so, so much, all so faraway and distant and he's almost in another world entirely)All he can feel as he makes his way inside is eyes glaring daggers into his back. The staring doesn't stop even after he's confident he shoots every one of those disgusting eyes he finds.(he doesn't want to think about what might be watching him)It is a strange place, the Divine Beast. He tries not to dwell on that, tries not to acknowledge the vestiges of memories flickering in his mind. He tries to ignore the way the malice festers in the air and soaks into his skin even through his clothing and twists and churns inside his chest. His hands put the Slate into the Guidance Stone, watching without seeing as the Stone distills the map and listening without hearing as Revali's voice fills the air.(he hates the calamity for this, for broken memories and desecrated grounds)Hate, such overwhelming, inhuman hate, strains within him, threatens to burst out of him, but where would it go? Out of him means back into the vast workings of the Divine Beast, exactly where it has been for a century now. A long century of coiling in on itself, trapped within a stone-metal cage with naught but lingering regret for company.(where has this thing been for a century? why is it awake now?)He stops to open his map, examine his options, and change the Beast's position. The stone-metal floor vibrates and gravity shifts as Vah Medoh tilts its massive form to the left, punctuating the motion with a loud shriek.Is this all his doing? The towers were all retracted until he unknowingly commanded them to rise and power up for the first time in millennia. The shrines were all dormant until the towers rose. (how does the slate know he's the one holding it?) Were the Divine Beasts, too, dormant until the towers rose?If so, then they wouldn't be rampaging if not for him. (no not for him for the slate it was the slate that told him to go over there and zelda who told him to follow the slate he didn't know what he was doing)(he still doesn't know what he's doing look at how he got here)(it isn't his fault)And he wonders what the Rito think of this. He knows they can see Vah Medoh tilting left and right as it continues to circle, piercing the sky with its cries, but do they know why? Do they know he's in here? (of course they do; teba must have told them because he made it there safe he has to be safe) Do they think their protector-turned-assailant is about to strike at them?Do they know it's his doing? (how could they he's just a hylian what could he possibly do to the beast that killed their champion)That thought, too, joins the list of the many things he's trying to ignore. He needs to focus on what he's doing. There may be few enemies up here with him (but if malice can revive the dead why didn't it just -- no no don't think that he doesn't know if he could handle that), but he's still thousands of feet in the air. This isn't the time to shut out the world.Even if the world is stone-metal hate that tastes and smells of death and despair.(the vast sky looms around his little stone-metal-hate cage, just waiting for him to slip)He forces himself to move, and things get easier. (he hates and he lies, and he pretends he does neither, but even so he has work to do) Activating each terminal clears the air a bit, drives the hatred away just a touch, even if at the same time, he swears he feels the malice gathering itself together as he works.Vah Medoh tilts again and again, following his commands as he picks his way through its insides and beneath its wings. Revali speaks to him occasionally, voice as arrogant as it is in his memories. He has mixed feelings about that, so he never responds. (is revali being revali or is revali just trying to pretend he hasn't been trapped in a stone-metal-hate cage for a century? link doesn't know and revali will never tell) He doesn't trust himself to speak, anyway. Even with most of the terminals under his own control, the malice is still thick and the solidified hate is still burbling and bubbling here and there.He knows from experience that the only noise the malice lets him make is screaming of his own, snarling and bellowing and roaring like a beast as the hate burns in his skin, boils in his veins, bursts from his throat. It's one thing to lose his composure for a few moments when the Blood Moon rises and the malice surges everywhere, but this isn't the time to lose control. This isn't the time to destroy another weapon in a blind rage.(especially when he'll have a target for that rage soon enough)He activates another terminal, the final terminal. He barely hears Revali telling him where to go. Vah Medoh has become a contradiction, a giant mechanical Beast filled with a strange almost-serenity even as hate-sparks rise from every surface and a ball of malice pulses at its core.The malice leaps at him when he activates the main control unit, some of it swirling around the control unit like a shield, the rest surging past him and forming... He doesn't know what, honestly. Something misshaped, something malformed, something that looks like nothing more than some foul creature growing out of pieces of guardian and coated in that sickening malice sludge.Revali speaks again, but Link can't hear him. Instead, he watches as the blight (the sickening, festering blight) lets loose a shrill cry and raises its misshapen arm, laser-fire gathering at the end."I can't believe I'm actually saying this... But you must avenge me, Link!" Revali calls out, his usual arrogance absent.Link notices that but doesn't care. His bow is already in his hands, and he lets an arrow (a bomb arrow, because it's what's at hand) fly straight into the blight's head. It answers with a disgusting noise, half-grunt and half-viscous gurgle, but the next shot is already in the air. He presses his attack, arrow after arrow after arrow, explosion after explosion blossoming from the blight's form. The blight teleports itself around the top of Vah Medoh, but he just tracks the strings of light as it does and shoots it again anyway.(flame and sludge burst from its chest just as hate and focus burst from his own)He doesn't slow down when the blight summons friends. Their forms are unfamiliar, looking like nothing more than strange jagged pieces of floating metal that remind him vaguely of the cannons he destroyed before he landed. They trail through the air, tips crackling with laser-fire, and he ignores them, instead raining more bomb arrows down on the blight's head. The blight staggers and falls, and that's all the opening he needs.He charges at where it lays stunned on Vah Medoh's stone-metal back, roaring a warcry. His hands find the largest, heaviest blade he has at hand and start slamming the sharpened steel against the sludge-metal-flesh form before him, feeling it give in unnatural ways beneath the honed edge.(this place hates and the malice hates and the blight hates and he hates)(the blight isn't ganon)(he knows this)(the blight isn't ganon it is a festering power remnant blight scourge that sing-shrieks with hate malice blood and it is why harth and teba are hurt and he is here and revali is not and)(revali is watching)(he doesn't care he will rend its flesh from its stone-metal-bones)(and then --)The sword shatters under the next blow, pushed beyond its limits, and the blight teleports again. He whirls around, snarling as he traces the path the blue light-strings take through the air and readies yet another bomb arrow.The resulting explosion is all the blight can take. It shudders and roars and doubles over on itself before throwing its arms wide and head back and bellowing its pain to the sky. Its body begins to break, spurts of vile, oily blood fountaining from every rend in its skin.(the air smells of death)(die and rot)The blight thrashes in the air, still bellowing, its clawed hand reaching outward for help or vengeance or who knows what. Light begins to burst from its form as well, burning away the oily blood and growing brighter and brighter until it is all Link can see.And then the light is gone. The blight is gone. The malice swirling around the main control unit is melting away, dissipating into the air. The malice in the air is fading with it.Vah Medoh is no longer under the Calamity's control.He forces himself to breathe deep, shoving each breath out with a loud huff. The air tastes clean, pure, free of all of the hate and death, and he needs this even though the cold makes his lungs ache. The tightness in his chest is fading. The adrenaline from the battle is fading.(the hate inside him is fading, burning itself away now that its source is dead)He's so tired now. His body aches. His soul aches. He slings his bow across his back with shaking hands as the last of the malice fades.He takes a moment to lean his head back and look up at the sky, the mostly-clear blue sky with only a few scattered clouds. It's late in the afternoon now. Vah Medoh is higher in the sky than the sinking sun. He idly wonders how long he's been up here.(do teba and the others think he's dead?)He can't stay here forever. There are other places to be. Other Divine Beasts that need freeing. Other friends he needs to avenge. A Calamity that needs to be stopped.(he hates)But first, he still has unfinished business here. He closes the distance and activates the main control unit with his Slate. The familiar "Sheikah Slate authenticated" chime sounds louder than normal, victorious and defiant."Once you activate the main control unit, you will no longer be able to enter this Divine Beast." The unit chirps in the same tiny voice as the Slate. "Do you still want to activate it?"(revali challenged him to a sparring match here to see who truly deserved to be the champion)His voice should be nothing more than another malice-fueled snarl, but it is not. It is firm, clear, commanding. It is the only answer he can give. Even if he does want to return and explore, Vah Medoh has something much more important to do than indulge his whim."Yes."The unit before him vibrates, its many orange lights turning that familiar, comforting blue. He nods to himself. (what is this? he can actually tick something off that list of things that need doing that never stops growing)Perhaps it's just the fresh air. Perhaps it's just the quiet satisfaction of a job well done. Perhaps it's something about purging the malice and hate that built up inside him while he was here. Whatever it is, he feels revitalized. Stronger.He still wants a quick rest, though."Well, I'll be plucked..." Revali says from off to one side. "You defeated him, eh?"Link blinks in surprise and turns towards the sound; it's the first time he's heard Revali's voice from a specific direction. Revali -- or, rather, his spirit -- lands nearby, spirit fires dancing around his feet, embers floating gently upwards. The look on Revali's face is no different than it was in life, still with the same arrogant disdain writ so plainly across it.(he remembers wishing he could shove the sword that seals the darkness into revali's feathered arms and tell the rito champion that if he's so sure he can wield the master sword, then go ahead and try)Link blinks slowly and nudges that thought away. Even at the time, that thought was petty. Now, it's just an echo of a foolish argument that no longer matters. (destiny is heavier than it seems)"Who would've thought..." Revali continues. "Well done. I suppose I should thank you now that my spirit is free. This returns Medoh back to its rightful owner!" He turns while he speaks, and then he angles his head to give Link a small glare. "Don't preen yourself for just doing your job."("have fun sealing the darkness!" laughs the man who later asks to be avenged)The thought is bitter in his mind, harsh on his tongue, and so he does not voice it. Revali never wanted this. He's certain of that.(one of the few things he's certain of)" -- I have dubbed Revali's Gale!" Revali practically crows, making several sweeping motions with his wing-arm before heaving a ball of light at Link's chest.Link has just enough time to wonder what this is (not a spirit orb, not the deep, serene, grounded warmth the monks grant him; this is something else, something warm but intangible, like breath) before his feet lift off the ground as a gust of wind hurls him upwards. He twists in the air, curling himself into an easy backflip, and drops back to Vah Medoh.Then he snaps his head up and stares at Revali, silently demanding an explanation. (does the rito champion still feel the need to gloat, even here, even now?)If Revali sees the questions burning in Link's eyes, he doesn't act like it. Instead, he waves his wing-arm dismissively. "It's now time to move on and start making preparations for Medoh's strike on Ganon. But only if you think you'll still need my help while you're fighting inside Hyrule Castle. Feel free to thank me now."(don't preen yourself for just doing your job)Link tells himself that is nothing more than the last vestiges of malice talking as they burn away inside him. He sees flickers of light rise from his chest and is surprised that they're a gentle white instead of the angry malice-spark red."Or... never mind, just go. Your job is far from finished, you know."He knows. Oh, how he knows. But he needs rest first. He can do nothing if he breaks.Revali turns away and snaps his head upwards with a quiet hmph. Link knows he should say something -- anything -- while he still has this last chance, but there are so many words and so little time.And so he simply nods to Revali's back in understanding. He knows what has to be done. And it will be done.Revali starts to speak again, but the magic snatches Link and carries him away from Vah Medoh before the words can reach him. It's not unlike using the Slate to travel, only without the feeling of floating and becoming less solid for a moment. This is more just... being lifted, almost carried.He hasn't even finished that thought before his boots are on sturdy, solid wood. Rito Village. Revali's Landing, to be specific.(is this some final parting shot, or is this revali's way of sending him someplace safe? he'll never know)Link takes a breath of the chilly air -- so much warmer than the air on Vah Medoh -- and raises his head to the sky again. Vah Medoh has moved. No longer flying its lazy, watchful circles around the village, now it sits perched atop the highest part of the stone tower.He watches it. He has no real reason to do so. It isn't moving. It isn't going to move, either. Revali isn't going to materialize behind him. The monsters plaguing Hyrule aren't going to vanish. He should go. The Elder needs to know that Vah Medoh won't be a danger to the village now.(revali's spirit is freed and vah medoh remains)He needs to rest. He needs to restock. He needs to decide where he's heading next. But he doesn't. He just stands there, watching Vah Medoh as the sky darkens behind it, and he just breathes.(the divine beast is freed and his quest remains)After a while, it finally occurs to him (more like rises up from deep within) why he's doing this. Vah Medoh is back in its Champion's hands. This is the first big thing that has actually gone right since he woke, and now it sits on its perch, aiming an energy beam towards Hyrule Castle, indisputable proof that he is here and he is fighting.(fighting hard with scavenged gear and simple clothing and how many more scars will he have before this is over?)(you must be the light -- our light)(the light is sheer will and focus and loyalty wrapped in fragile flesh and blood and bone)(the light purged away the darkness and cleansed a divine beast)He takes another breath and holds it (he feels them all in his chest, the monks' gifts and Revali's wind and his own focus and the warmth of her voice) and then he blows it out slowly, letting himself relax.Maybe he really can save the princess and stop the Calamity.(a scourge has been struck down and the light still remains) He gives Vah Medoh a small smile and a nod, and he turns towards the Elder's hut.
10625346	black and blue blossoms	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Noctis Lucis Caelum, Nyx Ulric", "Fandom": "Final Fantasy XV", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by noctyx (nixrts)", "chapters": "1/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-14T00:00:00", "words": "677", "Additional Tags": "Hanahaki Disease, Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Comfort/Angst", "Relationship": "Noctis Lucis Caelum/Nyx Ulric", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	What was the old Solheiman prayer? ‘If love’…something?“If love-,” his throat closed up; he squeezed his eyes shut as struggled to breathe.“If love ever finds you- hrk- may the crystal take you,”- she looks at peace, as if she’s merely asleep. her skin is covered with jagged edges and polished surfaces. light refracts through the clear stone, rocks the colour of the sun. her eyes are closed, hands over her heart like she’s praying, her hair suspending around her. a smile is etched across her face, soft yet bright. the yellow crystal that embraces her glows like second sun, their personal star. and he can feel it; the love that emits from her heart. and it hurts so much -“If ha-,” he doubled over, a hand clutching at his abdomen, “if hate- hate ever finds…finds you. May the shadows be kind,” - oily black substance seeps out of his eyes, ears and mouth. It trails down his skin like blood, a viscous liquid from wounds on the person. internal wounds, scars of the heart. they harden around his shoulders, along his arms, his chest, his feet and legs. stone as black as midnight cover an eye, crafts a horn behind an ear, creates a claw out of what was once his hand. he looks to be in pain, a mess of tattered clothes and torn flesh. he can feel his pain, as he trudges into the night, feels it as if it’s his own - Noctis glared at the scattered petals before him, a disgusting mess mixed with mucus, saliva and blood. The blue of the flowers – whole ones, with their stalks and pistils – was vibrant against the white tiles of the bathroom floor, even if covered in gross liquids. His throat still ached from all the retching he’s done. His hands shook even while they tried to keep him steady on his knees. His chest burned; lungs working overtime, heart beating too fast. His vision blurred, he felt his eyes burn with the tears that threatened to spill.He flops onto his side, mouth agape as he struggled to breathe. They come out as short but heavy breaths, like a chainsaw. He felt dirty; lying in a pool of his own vomit. But he was too tired to sit up, to think of sitting up. The pain that came with forcing these flowers out of his system left him lethargic. But a sense of ease washed over him, for one moment. A high that came after the roots pass through his teeth, when the last of the stems and flowers drop onto the floor.There’s a rush of happiness that goes to his head; messed with his vision, seeing swirls or colour and dots of bright lights. He smelled sweet fragrances, floral, but the kind that didn’t make him want to strangle himself. A smile – maybe half-crazed, half-desperate – crept across his face; a laugh leaves him, a little broken and a little sad.“May you never lose your sense of self.” Noctis whispered, dragging a finger on the floor. “May you never stray from the path you make.”It’s gone as soon as it came, the high feeling; soon the despair that shook him to his very core years before returned. Ten-fold, like a weight of stones crushing over his heart. He felt a turmoil of emotions – love, hate, hope, fear – wreaking havoc through his mind, his heart, his soul. Noctis couldn’t help the sob that escaped him.He curled himself up, longing for the pair of arms that once protected him from the world to come back. He tucked his knees under his chin, wrapped his arms around his shoulders, allowed his hair to shield his eyes from the truth of his predicament. Noctis, bit his bottom lip as another sob rocked through him. When he couldn’t hold the sadness back anymore, when the memories of his father returned to torture him, did he finally weep openly into the bed of flowers he made. ‘Lest the flowers choke you and saves you instead.’
10658634	Pilot Emily 1-55	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/F", "Characters": "Emily Charlton, Andrea Sachs", "Fandom": "The Devil Wears Prada (2006)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by punky_96", "chapters": "5/5", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-17T00:00:00", "words": "6,184", "Additional Tags": "AU, Bondage, Restraints, wrist and ankles, Dirty Talk, foot/shoe fetish, Worship, Bloodplay, Biting, Bites and Bruises, Obedience, Danger", "Relationship": "Emily Charlton/Andrea Sachs", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Earn Your Wings The control panel was lit up indicating all those things that were important to space ships. Right now they just didn’t matter. Of course they mattered but the pilot couldn’t tear her eyes from the window long enough to care. She just hoped that with both hands on the control yoke that she wouldn’t have to hear the alert tones. An asteroid belt was no place for their little craft, but there was nothing she could do for it now. Sometimes you couldn’t go around, you couldn’t go under, you couldn’t go over—no, sometimes you just had to go through it.Barely avoiding a medium sized asteroid, the hull shook. “Bloody hell!”The cockpit door swooshed open and the pilot breathed a curse again. Company was not what she needed.“Why so tense?” The pilot felt fingers slip along the ripstop fabric of her uniform.Locking her jaw to concentrate on not getting them killed, the pilot hissed. “Strap in.” Shifting the yoke to the left the ship shuddered as it banked away from the large mass that almost had their names all over it.Her eyes unwavering, the click of the seat harness took care of one worry in this endless spiral of hazards. Clear space might be on the other side of this asteroid belt, but clarity was not going to be anywhere since there was no horizon in space. It was moments like these that she wished she hadn’t burned all those bridges back on Londrinium. Back then she only had to keep moving—underground tunnels, hijacking train tracks, or piloting the river. ‘Old troubles always look easy later.’ Shaking her head, Emily fought the urge to run her fingers through her hair, besides her tight bun wouldn’t give her any satisfaction. Swallowing Emily thought, ‘Speaking of.’ Emily yanked the yoke to the right making a point as she felt long fingers stroking up her knee and sliding to the inside of her thigh.The rocking of the ship did not make the point she intended. The fingers on her thigh just tightened. “And—” The ship shook and alarms began buzzing. The sounds Emily made as she grunted and groaned moving with the yoke to avoid a fresh onslaught of asteroids had her companion flexing and unflexing her fingers rhythmically against Emily’s thigh. She might have to wait for clear space, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy priming the pump while she was strapped into the co-pilot’s chair.* * *Sighing Andy stretched in the chair unclicking her seatbelt. “Amazing, baby.” The brunette stood and reached up to stroke Emily’s cheek. Lightning fast reflexes clenched Emily’s fingers around Andy’s wrist. “Ow.” Andy hissed and then smiled. Licking her lips, Andy reached up with her other hand. “I love when you’re on a run, baby.” As predicted Emily grabbed the other hand before it could reach its destination. Andy felt her body tingle as her arousal increased exponentially. Docked in the repair station of Aventay, the little Runway craft wouldn’t need her pilot for many hours. In the asteroid belt Andy could only tease herself and Emily, not that they were safe again she knew the possibilities, like the stars, were endless.The blue eyes hardened and stared into mischievous brown assessing the situation, taking in the brunette’s easy arousal, and trying to tame the beast in herself. “I’m not your baby.” Emily brought Andy’s arms down slowly to hang at their sides, but she did not release her grip. The brunette let out an amused snort of laughter and then leaned her face forward and blew Emily a kiss. “You want that chair?” Emily growled in reference to the usurped co-pilot’s spot. “Sit in it.” With one hand in the center of Andy’s chest, Emily pushed her back and down into the chair. She stepped forward her legs blocking any attempt to rise back up that Andy may have had.A sultry hum escaped from the half smile on Andy’s face as she placed her hands on the arm rests and scooted her hips forward as she made herself comfortable in the chair. “Don’t be like that, baby. I was just paying you a complement.” Andy spread her legs, rubbing her knees against Emily’s thighs as she did. Her stance wasn’t very wide, but the invitation was clear.Emily looked down at the infuriating woman. She jammed her hands in her pockets holding back. Her fingers touched on a fistful of runcords and an evil gleam lit up her eyes. “You like that chair, don’t you?” Emily bent at the waist leaving her hands in her pocket. Immediately Andy sat up straight, her eyes dilated and her breath coming in short gasps.‘Tiger.’ Andy thought as her gaze slipped from Emily’s blue eyes to her ruby red lips and back. Repeating the cycle she let her eyes dip lower as they followed down the disappearing pale plane of skin revealed by the V of Emily’s uniform.Emily brushed her cheek against the skin of Andy’s, her heart beating faster as she put her plan in motion. This woman was constantly under her skin and needed to be taught a lesson. While the source of her trouble was distracted Emily slipped two run cords from her pockets. “I asked you a question.” Emily hissed as she turned her face so that her lips slid hard across Andy’s cheek and then her lips without kissing her.“Yes.” Andy panted as Emily pulled back.Emily flicked her wrists so that the runcords flipped against Andy’s skin following their trajectory until they wrapped around and closed against their own ends. Emily stood haughtily slipping her hands back into her pockets. “Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.” Emily wiped the back of her right hand across her mouth as if to rid herself of the other woman’s germs. “I asked, do you like that chair?”Andy adjusted in her seat thrusting her breasts out as she flexed her arms testing the runcords. “Hmmm.” She hummed her answer, “I love this chair.” Andy reached her leg up, wrapping it around Emily’s hip and pulling the woman closer.The position pressed Emily’s mound against Andy’s other knee forcing a shudder out of the red head. Relishing in the seconds it took Emily to regain the upper hand, Andy’s sex clenched as she watched the struggle play out in those stormy blue eyes. Emily’s tight fingers on her leg sent a jolt of desire up Andy’s body. “You have to earn your wings.” Emily pulled away and dropped to one knee pulling Andy’s leg down with her. The runcord closed tight against her ankle and Andy squirmed trying to keep her leg free—anything to prolong her contact with the elusive red head. It wasn’t like there was anywhere for her to go, especially since escape wasn’t her goal. Once her other leg was secured Emily placed her hands on the inside of Andy’s knees and fixed her with a stare that was halfway between desire and ire. Andy bit her lip.“First,” Emily said as she let her thumbs slide up and down against the thin fabric of Andy’s flight suit. “Don’t distract the pilot.” The heat of Emily’s palms short-circuited Andy’s brain, those thumbs dangerously close to her sex. Andy squirmed in her seat hoping for better contact. Emily leaned forward her cheek brushing against Andy’s once again. Andy whined as Emily’s words caressed the shell of her ear, “Second, don’t reach beyond your rank.” Emily bit the lob of Andy’s ear pulling it hard with her teeth. Pulling back Emily cupped Andy’s cheek against her palm, “I’m not your baby.” Lightly she slapped her hand against that willing cheek and then trailed the tips of her first and third fingers against Andy’s, which fell open her tongue darting out to taste the skin.Turning away Emily stopped in the open cockpit door. “If you still want to earn your wings, find me.”The door swooshed shut as Andy tried to slow her heart rate. Struggling against the restraints Andy eventually gave up and just replayed Emily’s words and touch in her mind over and over. Eventually the repair crew would come and finding her they would release her. Until then she would just sit back and enjoy the fantasy—where she was strapped to this chair, only naked and Emily didn’t leave her all wound up.Sighing Andy let her head fall back against the leather of the chair. x ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- You Can Fly Emily shook her head as she answered the hail. “Come in.” A grudging mutual understanding had developed between the pilot and the engineer, but neither was going to make it easy. It just wasn’t in them, or perhaps it just wasn’t what was between them. It may not have been defined, but it was definitely not lovey-dovey.“Ooh, baby, you don’t have to invite me twice.” Andy said as she slipped against Emily’s body on her way inside. “You know I will.” Andy’s lips just barely touched Emily’s skin.Ignoring the constant sexual hum between them, Emily picked up her data pad as she settled on the couch. “I called you for a repair job.”Undeterred Andy promised, “I’ll fix you up good.”* * “Walk me to the door?” Andy suggested after they had shared a drink from the fixed replicator.Rolling her eyes, Emily stood. “You always push your luck.” Emily walked to the door and waited for her ‘guest’.Reaching up with her free hand, Andy smiled as she ran her fingers through the red tresses. “You always play hard to get.”Emily smiled as she bat Andy’s hand away. “I am.” Emily leaned back against the wall next to her door and laughed and Andy’s frustration. She crossed her arms over her chest.Stepping into Emily’s personal space, Andy held Emily’s cheek as she rubbed her lips back and forth without kissing her. Andy kept her cheek pressed close to Emily’s sharing the heat between them as she let her arm slip down Emily’s neck, along the V of her uniform, over her arms, and then down her abdomen to where it was warmer. “You’re not hard, are you, baby.” Andy cupped Emily’s sex as the other woman adjusted her stance without consciously meaning to. Her luck still holding Andy lowered her face to the crook of Emily’s neck letting her tongue dart out to taste the skin.“I am.” Emily tried to retain her usual snootiness, but Andy knew it had been two weeks too long for her and resistance was futile. Andy licked along Emily’s collarbone and pressed her hand harder against the fabric that already felt moist against her fingers. “You don’t feel hard to me.” Andy sucked on Emily’s pulse point and then nibbled back up her neck to her ear. “You feel hot, baby.” Andy hummed as she sucked Emily’s ear lobe into her mouth. “Why play hard to get, when you can fly?” Andy pulled back and looked into Emily’s eyes evaluating how much fight was left in the fiery red head. Just as she was leaning in for the kiss and Emily wet her lips with the tip of her pink tongue, her com badge buzzed to life. “Sachs. You’re needed in the cargo bay.”Emily hit her head back against the wall in frustration. She supposed that karma was paying her back for that runcord stunt a couple of months ago. She had thought that helping Andy earn her wings would get her off, but no such luck. Now it was her turn to be left hanging.“Coming.” Andy said as she winked at Emily. Pulling away, Andy said, “Next time, baby.” Andy let her eyes wander up and down Emily’s body wistfully. “Um-hum.” Andy shook her head and pressed the door.Emily had stepped following Andy out in a circle. The door slid closed with a whoosh in her face. She let her forehead fall against it in frustration. Kicking the door once she wondered if she could simply disconnect the replicator and call Andy back again. Then cursing her weakness, Emily stalked toward the bathroom, stripping as she stepped into the sonic shower. “Oh, hell.” She groaned as she thought of time wasted in playing games. x ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Before You Walk Pilots weren’t supposed to go on missions. Pilots were supposed to fly the craft, steer the boat, or put the pedal to the metal. Best in the galaxy—she just couldn’t sit still for long, respect authority, or pay for all the things in her possession (well, any of them, but that was by choice). Who was there to make her pay anyway? Johnny Law? As far as Emily could tell he died at the end of the 21st century and no deputy had come yet to take his place. The Runway was the fastest ship of her kind and she was faster than a lot of ships that should have been faster. Emily had seen to the modifications herself. Factory produced pilots coming from the Elias-Clark Federation couldn’t keep up with her when all other things were considered equal.Emily sighed as she slipped her earrings on. She was the pilot not the smuggler. Smoothing down her dress she looked at the shoes she had chosen from her closet and cringed. They weren’t good enough for the mission she was accompanying the captain on, but on this small ship they all had to make do. They made do with repairs, cargo space, and the edges of legitimate business. The captain was a smuggler; it was in her blood and why she turned her back on society. To be the best in the business had driven her to her own ship and the captaincy. Emily admired that. For the first time she had been captivated by anything. She could learn more than just speed and she could function within the social structure on board the small ship. Each person did their own job or job(s) and left the others alone.‘Except for one.’ Emily thought with a wry smile as she stepped into the shoes. It had taken a long time, but Andy had gotten under her skin. It could be bad for both of them, but they couldn’t resist each other for more than about two weeks. For the first time since joining the crew Emily wondered about safety. She wondered if it was a sign of getting old or a sign of weakness. If the ship was captured Andy would be in danger. If they were tracked down by ECF agents, they would be sent to prisons on either side of the universe. The thought made her heart race on the few occasions that they had close calls.As if thinking could summon a person, her door chimed.“Come in.” Emily called out.Her uniform grimy from the day’s work, Andy came in with her hands behind her back. “I knew you’d be smokin’ hot, baby” Andy whistled as she looked her erstwhile lover from head to toe. When she leaned in for a kiss Emily planted her palm against her face pushing her away. “Don’t call me baby.” Emily shook her head and walked back to the mirror. She watched as Andy backed up a step shuffling behind her back before dropping to her knees. “You’re breakin’ my heart, baby.” With one hand, Andy held her heart in dramatic gesture.Trying not to laugh Emily looked down at her breast picking a non-existent piece of lint off her gown.Andy crawled forward on her knees and one hand. “I’d crawl on my hands and knees for you, baby.” Andy came to a stop behind Emily and the woman blushed.She bent down and grabbed Andy’s free hand in a harsh grip. “Only one hand though. Hmmm.” She shook her head in disapproval.Pretending innocence Andy shrugged and turned her captured hand to stroke Emily’s skin gently. “When I mess up, you need to correct me.”They looked at each other for many long minutes communicating with their eyes things that they just didn’t say. It wasn’t their way after all and it really wasn’t the time—right before going on a mission. Unspoken in the request was that Emily return in one piece so she could keep Andy in line.Breaking the moment Andy looked again at Emily’s shoes. “Tsk. Tsk. Task.” She sucked her teeth in, “Those will never do. Have you seen the captain’s shoes?”At first Emily was ready to defend her shoes as the only ones she had that were anywhere close, but then she took in a gasp and narrowed her eyes in jealousy. “You’ve seen the captain’s shoes?” She hissed.Andy looked down at her messy uniform and with her free hand she pointed to various stains. “I’ve seen every room on this ship, baby.” She winked. Before Emily could continue the jealousy that was beginning, Andy brought her hidden arm around to her front. Emily stepped back and gasped as she saw the most beautiful pair of black stilettos. At Emily’s unspoken question, Andy smiled and set them down. “While you re-stocked runcords in Aventay, I picked these up.”Laughing heartily Emily grabbed her mid-section, “You had to learn somehow.”Andy held up the shoes. “Do these look like wings?”Without missing a beat Emily deadpanned, “Only when you flap them like that.”Rolling her eyes Andy set one shoe down. “Come on. Let me help you.”Emily rested a hand on Andy’s shoulder and watched as she slipped the offending shoe off her foot reverently before kissing the instep of her foot and slipping on the new taller beautiful shoe. Emily felt off balance for a moment until she lifted her other foot and watched Andy repeat her motions. As desire blossomed like a blush from her instep to her sex, Emily realized that the entire process mesmerized Andy. She wasn’t sure if it was the trust she was showing by baring her feet for her lover, the shoes, or perhaps both. Emily realized with a pang of regret that they had never been both naked and intimate. Swallowing against the worry, she hoped that they would have the time.Leaning down Emily cupped Andy’s chin until she looked up at her slightly dazed. Emily bit her lip against her own arousal when she recognized the desire in those brown orbs. “You like that, don’t you?” Normally the question would have been laced with derision, setting off a new round of difficulty between them. In this moment, it was only asked with honest tenderness.Still unfocused Andy nodded, then she leant down and kissed the top of each of Emily’s feet just above the line of the shoe. Rising again she sat back on her knees looking up at Emily.“I’ll wear them for you.” Emily’s voice was thick with unspoken emotion and the rest of her words were loud between them though they remained unspoken. ‘When I get back.’Emily walked to the door expecting Andy to follow her. She just wasn’t expecting her to follow on her hands and knees. “What are you doing?”Wriggling her ass before rising up on her knees at Emily’s feet, Andy winked, “You know what they say, baby. You gotta crawl—” She was cut off by a fierce kiss that ended with Emily dragging Andy up by her hair and panting. They stared at each other for long moments until Emily’s com badge chirped and the voice of the captain intruded on the scene. x ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Not Your Baby The captain goes down with the ship. The captain goes down with the ship. The captain goes down with the ship. The same sentence kept going through her mind like the flashing lights of the cockpit sensors. That sentence became the base fueling the song while the higher melody racing through her mind tap danced on her heart. The crew would die to protect the captain. The crew would die to protect the captain. The crew would die to protect the captain. * *A smuggling ship didn’t even have a medic, let alone a well stocked supply of bandages. Like everything else on board Runway injuries were treated as best they could be, by whoever was around and whoever was the nearest had to do the job. It was why Emily had gone on the away mission undercover with their captain in the first place. Andy was too new to the crew and simply hadn’t put in enough time. Also she supposed that they could get home one way or the other if something happened to Emily, but not so much if something happened to the engine—and engines meant engineers, which meant Andy. Walking up the short hallway to greet the away team, the brunette had been thinking about how good Emily looked in those shoes and how lovely her calf looked with another couple of inches. She looked forward to the condescending way that Emily would tell her about the mission while teasing her for being too green to go herself.The reunion on the transporter pad shattered all of those fantasies. The away team, consisting of the captain, Emily, and a data droid had returned one member down, one member barely conscious, and the final member damaged but still deadly. Andy quelled her angry questions in her throat at just one look from the silver haired captain. She would not brook any questions now, and probably not ever. In her mind, Andy cursed the arrogance that took her officers for granted. Letting the tough woman have her way, Andy bypassed the defunct droid and captain completely focusing on Emily. Whatever was wrong with the droid would hold and still be wrong later. She’d be damned if Emily was just going to wander off to her cabin unassisted. Andy was no expert, but she didn’t think Emily would even make it to her room—and what then? Suffer in silence and potentially worse? The dead can’t heal themselves no matter how far we tried to outrun time.* * From the edges of consciousness, Emily felt her bare body being caressed under cool cloths. Angry at being violated so, she struggled to wakefulness. When the cleansing sensation slid up her body across her abdomen, around and around her erect nipple, Emily flexed her muscles grabbing hard at her captor. “Unhand me.” Holding the enemy still she reached blind finding a hip and a low-slung dagger. She pulled it from its sheath and pushed the violator away. Striking while the moment was right, Emily swiftly swung her legs off the bed and stood, finally taking in the scene around her.Smirking at her with a lazy smile her captor blinked brown eyes at her. “Baby.”Recognition flittering weakly in her brain, Emily sucked in a breath of air. “Andy.” She hoarsely whispered and then promptly collapsed. * ***A thorough cleanse had been heartbreaking for Andy, but she stared down at Emily’s naked bruised body fascinated by the marks and the evidence of blood. She was torn between guilt—if she could have traded places with her lover, she would have—and desire. The teasing between them bordered on torture and as she trailed her finger down Emily’s body watching it react even from deep within unconsciousness, she couldn’t help but imagine Emily getting rough with her. The broken flesh on Emily’s cheek made her purse her lips and moan when she traced the line of the clear spray bandage. Andy longed to kiss those lips once again, even if it was more a bite in anger than a lock of tenderness. In her mind it would show that Emily was back.Andy traced down across from Emily’s shoulder down to her hip following the outline of where the sword had torn through her dress and the thin protection screen beneath. When Andy’s touch slipped on the line between Emily’s breasts, the nipple hardened taking Andy’s breath away, she could tell how close to death Emily had been.Earlier when she had cleaned Emily again, she had stirred into wakefulness giving Andy hope that they were through the wilderness. She had instinctively acted to save herself and attack. The thrill beat in Andy’s heart and between her legs as she contemplated Emily actually advancing on her with that knife. If only Emily had pressed her body against hers as her back hit the wall and the blade was at her throat. She imagined their shared heavy breathing until blue eyes finally focused on brown, defusing the tension into heated rapprochement.Walking to the end of the bed, Andy slowly stripped off her clothes and crawled onto the bed beside Emily. Her breath caught and the tears held back until she exhaled as her heat caressed against the chill of Emily’s pale skin. Reverently Andy began at Emily’s forehead bestowing kisses and hot tears that blended with the blood to each and every single wound. She was at a loss as to how else to restore her lover. There was nothing internal lingering. The captain had come at length to at least give Andy the medical scanner in order to check her over. Andy had held back the growl in favor of tending to her beloved.Kissing down the diagonal line her fingers had traced earlier as far as she could, Andy lay her head against Emily’s chest listening to her heart. “I would spill my blood, if you’d just come back to me.” Andy whispered against the still tormented skin, tracing her thumb along a gash above Emily's hip.Swallowing against her dry throat Emily couldn’t under stand why she couldn’t speak, but could cry. The weakness was nearly unbearable. It was only waking into the arms of her own human shield that made it worth opening her eyes. She gently stroked her fingers through Andy’s hair and when she didn’t respond Emily flexed her hand hard pulling the hair at the scalp.“Ow!” Andy reached up grabbing the hand in her hair and rising as much as she could to get away from the pain. When she turned and saw Emily smiling weakly at her, tears in her eyes, Andy stopped struggling. “Baby?” Andy whispered as fresh tears gathered and fell freely.Rolling her eyes at the stupid comment, Emily pulled her face to hers until their lips were mashed together and a passionate kiss could begin. When enough saliva was swapped and she needed air, Emily pushed her lover away. “I’m not your baby.” Emily said as she pulled Andy’s head back by her scalp.They stared long into each other’s eyes until Andy broke into a wide arrogant smile. “Oh, yes you are.” Andy said as she flipped her leg over Emily’s hips and rose up easily pinning Emily’s arms above her head and out of her hair.Under her Emily fought her body’s instinctive response as Andy’s nipples brushed against hers. Realizing their mutual states of nakedness, Emily rolled her eyes. “At least you didn’t leave a weapon where a hostile could attack you this time.” She shook her head in mock shame as Andy groaned.Lowering her face close to Emily’s without kissing her, Andy warned, “Don’t make me get the runcords.” She arched a brow until Emily laughed in her face and then silenced her with a kiss. Separating again, Emily’s stomach growled and the moment shifted back to patient/care taker for the time being. However it was clear to both of them that Emily was nearly back to fighting strength. It was also clear that things had changed between them without either really knowing or wanting. x ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- This Is My Cockpit, Baby The Krist Yahn Asteroid belt: many drunken claims had been made by pilots over the years about navigating the infamous stretch of space, verification was so hard to come by that disputes over their veracity often ended in death. Only one had ever made the trek, and if anyone could verify it, they were better off keeping their own counsel. The one to which the honor truly went would never claim it. Her acclaim did not go beyond the hull of a small smuggling ship on the far side of the quadrant.There were days however that the Krist Yahn Belt was a sweet daydream. Days when they were in a lesser asteroid belt, but pursued by the law on one side and mercenaries on the other. Asteroids simply floated in space following their own physics. Lawmen and mercenaries bobbed and weaved firing a multitude of weapons. Sometimes when you couldn’t go around it, and you couldn’t go over it or under it—well, sometimes you still had to go through it even when you knew the other side wasn’t going to be any better. Grass didn’t grow in space and it was never greener on the other side. That was the life of a smuggler. They chose it for the money, the excitement, the danger, or simply to get away from things behind them by always moving forward. It was a strange intersection of individuals that would go into space and additionally risk their lives by going against the law.Emily hadn’t burned her bridges, but neither was she welcome back in Londrinium. She told herself that it was the thrill of adventure and she told others that it was a love of money. Only one saw through her far enough to understand that she was in it for the challenge. The truth was that Emily lived to test her skill against all odds. The adventure and money as well as the scars were just bonuses that she used to pick up chicks or distract from days when the proverbial sun went down.Andy saw through her. She saw through her as easy as looking in the mirror. In this one thing, they could have been twins. Top of the Class, but bored out of her mind, Andy had been propositioned a year and a half after graduation to moonlight on a job. The challenge of doing a difficult job within a certain time frame or risking incarceration—now that was living. Andy had to push her mind further with every challenge so much so that the boredom of her regular job increased exponentially. The addition of missing pieces or pursuit just sweetened the deal.The captain knew of course—her ship, her crew, her secrets to keep. Like so many things aboard the truth was left to the shadows where it belonged.There was no time to think of that now; however, they were still in danger even if it wasn’t the heights that they all longed for. Emily’s vice-grip on the yoke and sweat down her temple were the only tell tale signs as she maneuvered them among the various obstacles of the day. The captain would not approve of her motives, but she needn’t know about them. A simple blue line painted on the floor would go unnoticed by most of the small crew and unquestioned by the rest. Emily smiled as she heard the swoosh of the cockpit door. This was going to spice up her day like nothing else and hopefully her night too.“Looks like a fun one, baby.” Andy whistled as she stepped inside and let the door swoosh behind her.Emily thought, ‘Too easy.’ Then she said, “Don’t cross the blue line.” Her tone dripped down an octave sending a flutter through her companion’s bloodstream as her heart did a flip. “And don’t leave.” There was no escaping the command in her voice, nor the sex. Part of Andy wondered if Emily had been taking elocution lessons from the captain. The thought of the two of them with their sexy voices bossing her around was enough to freeze her on the spot. Emily didn’t notice as she swerved to avoid a spacebeacon. Andy steadied herself against the wall with one hand and then took her bearings. ‘That’s new.’ Andy thought with an eyebrow raise and a look back at the door. ‘That’s different.’ Her mind added as she contemplated the other times she had slipped into the cockpit.Andy’s hand itched as she longed to reach forward and run her hand along the base of Emily’s neck threatening to pull her hair out of that oh-so-tight bun. “Baby?” Andy croaked out holding back even as her desire for the insufferable red head increased. The co-pilot’s chair was only a few steps away. ‘Why didn’t she tell me to strap in?’ Andy re-settled her feet as the hull shook and Emily cursed. Looking from the chair to her girl, Andy pondered the possibilities. ‘Runcords aren’t bad.’ Andy thought with a shiver. Righting the horizon once again, Emily looked over her shoulder, one strand of hair slipping loose and covering her left eye. Andy’s breath caught anew as she assumed her most haughty sneer, “Blue line, Andy.”Flexing her fingers into fists and then letting them loose again, Andy smirked as she thought back to some of their very first encounters. Defiant as ever, Andy’s first instinct was to stalk forward and insist on her presence being acknowledged. This was Emily’s first mission back on active duty. Getting ready, her blue eyes lit up with an unbridled joy. Her recovery wasn’t long, but it was tortuous. Emily was a woman in motion, resting and recuperating were not in her nature. Even with Andy’s medical attentions and otherwise, the days had been too long. The vulnerability weighed on her as much as following Andy’s orders. Realizing that Emily was back in more ways than one, Andy acquiesced. ‘Besides,’ she thought, ‘who knows what other orders she’ll give.’ Thinking back to Emily telling her in no uncertain terms what she wanted the previous morning gave Andy all the motivation she needed to play the good girl.Andy leaned back against the wall knowing that Emily would know even though her back was turned. “Baby.” She cooed at Emily as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You know I’ll do whatever you tell me, baby.”Wriggling in her seat as she began to get hot, Emily smiled as she turned the ship hard to starboard. ‘Good girl.’ Emily thought as she bit her lip to keep from laughing as Andy had to reclaim her posture.Not moving, didn’t mean not speaking and Andy found she didn’t have a shortage of words. Just like when she got into a tricky engineering spot, Andy made do with the resources she had available to her. Not allowed to use her hands, she would put her mouth to good use. As soon as they landed Emily unstrapped herself from the pilot’s chair and stalked toward her lover. Pressing her against the cockpit door, Emily engaged the locking mechanism so that they would not be interrupted. Kissing back, Andy was careful not to initiate any contact herself. If Emily wanted more then she would have to give the command. After several moments of fevered kissing Emily pulled back, her eyes flashing with mischief. “On your knees.” She hissed as she pushed Andy’s head down.‘Oh, it’s good to be back.’ She thought as Andy obeyed.“Stay on your knees.” Emily looked down cupping Andy’s cheek and trailing her thumb over those luscious ruby red lips. “And. Make. Me. Come.”Her orders issued, Andy grabbed Emily by the legs and swiveled her around to lean back against the wall. “Yes, ma’am.” Andy growled as she reached up pulling the long zipper all the way down the front of Emily’s flight suit. Luckily Andy’s arms were just long enough and Emily cooperative enough that she was able to slide the suit over her shoulders and down her body. The whole mission used in verbal foreplay, Andy leaned forward her hands on Emily’s hips pressing hard as she licked the heat of Emily’s sex. Her suspicions confirmed, Andy let one hand slide down Emily’s thigh hugging it while the other hand reached up to play against a pert nipple. Hearing Emily’s head thud back against the door Andy smiled as she brought the initial hand around the front of Emily’s thigh and then up until she had Emily choking back moans of desire.Both of Emily’s hands were tangled in Andy’s hair as the fully clothed engineer did as she was told.Coming with a shout that couldn’t be masked, Emily slithered down the door until she was pulled forward and onto Andy’s body as she lay back. “Now you’re back, baby.” Andy said before claiming that pouty mouth with a rough kiss.Pulling back Emily bit Andy’s lip hard enough to cause a yelp. “I’m not your baby.” Emily mock chided her lover.“That’s it.” Andy purred as she rolled them over.Struggling under the brunette’s long body, Emily pulled at the zipper of Andy’s suit. “It’s my cockpit, baby.” When Andy stilled above her in shock from the ‘endearment’, Emily added, “What I say goes.” The End x
10628529	Winter Requiem The Still	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Evgeny Kuznetsov, Nicklas Backstrom, Alexander Ovechkin, Original Characters", "Fandom": "Hockey RPF", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by theladyscribe", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-22T00:00:00", "words": "1,181", "Additional Tags": "outsider pov, Horror, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Washington Capitals, Remix", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Evgeny Kuznetsov & Alexander Ovechkin, Evgeny Kuznetsov & Nicklas Backstrom, Nicklas Backstrom & Alexander Ovechkin", "Series": null, "Collections": "Kamikaze Hockey Remix 2017", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	1.Pyotr doesn't remember. He has been here for so long, and he is always so hungry. Memory has been shoved aside in favor of the imperative: blood. Warm, rich, life-sustaining blood. He can smell it from a distance, can practically taste it when someone is close. And in the sharp cold of the mountain, the air is thick with it.This is a strong one, Pyotr is sure of it. As long as he can find it in the snow before the chill takes his life.Pyotr digs into the loose snow from the avalanche with a fervent urgency, guided by the taste of the beating heart on Pyotr's tongue.When he finds him, Pyotr spares no time in pressing his teeth against the man's throat, desperate for the rush of warmth.He tastes even better than Pyotr anticipated, blood strong like wine on an empty stomach. He fights, and that makes it all the sweeter.But the fight also makes Pyotr pause in his feeding. It is enough for the man to twist out of his arms, to run, to try to escape.Pyotr runs his tongue along sharp and bloody teeth.The man can run as far as he wants, but it's too late. Pyotr has taken too much. If he survives, here on the cold and deadly mountain, he won't be human for much longer. 2.Alex runs.He can feel the blood trickling down his throat, hot against the flesh of his collar. He doesn't know what — or who — attacked him, just that he needs to run. He can feel himself growing colder, the blood loss and the chill of the air and the ebb of adrenaline leeching away his energy.He runs his tongue along his teeth, struck with a sudden hunger, an overwhelming desire for the tang and iron of blood. Alex thinks the terror and the cold must be getting to him.He passes out.When Alex wakes, he is covered with a light dusting of snow, and everything feels sharp and bright and too much. He takes a deep breath and swears he can taste the birds in the trees that surround him.He sits up, and he is starving. There is a fox nearby, in the underbrush upwind of him, and Alex doesn't know how he knows that, but he knows that he must feed or he will die out here, in the snow and ice, cold and starving and alone.He finds the fox. It isn't enough. 3.Nicky doesn't really expect to find Alex, and he certainly doesn't expect to find him alive, if not entirely well.There is blood streaked across Alex's mouth and chin, when Nicky finally finds him. His clothes are threadbare, and there is a wild look in his eyes. His nostrils flare when he sees Nicky, as if some animal hindbrain part of him is taking his measure.Nicky stands his ground, staring Alex in the eye, refusing, as he always has when it comes to Alex, to be cowed.Alex's nostrils flare again, but he resumes his manic evisceration of what appears to have been an elk.Nicky should probably be sick at the sight, but all he feels is relief that Alex is still alive. "Alex," he whispers.Alex doesn't respond, nor even twitch. He's decided Nicky isn't a threat, then.Nicky steps closer, and Alex stills however briefly before leaning into the steaming guts of the elk he has slaughtered."Alex," Nicky says again, louder. "Alex."Nicky sinks to his knees, choking on a sob. 4."It's not easy, you know," Alexander Mikhailovich says, with a gap-toothed smile that is still somehow full of teeth. "Being me. I can't go out during the day, and in the summer, we only have about four hours of full darkness.""That doesn't stop you from trying," mutters Nicklas, sitting beside him. To Natasha, he says, "Have you ever treated a sunburn on a vampire? It isn't pretty." The men laugh, the sound of their laughter sharp as knives.Natasha isn't sure if she's supposed to laugh along with them, so she smiles awkwardly and hopes they don't notice the way her tea cup rattles in its saucer. Judging by the way Nicklas' eyes flick between her hands and Alexander Mikhailovich's smile, they've noticed.Natasha sets the cup and saucer down on the table. "This was lovely, thank you," she says carefully, "but I really should be going. The rest of my hiking group — they'll come looking for me if I'm not back before—""Sunset," Nicklas finishes for her."Yes," Natasha agrees faintly, her heart pounding loud enough to be heard across the room."It isn't safe to be on the mountain by yourself. Kuzy will take you," Nicklas says, nodding at the young man who has been watching their conversation from the dimly-lit doorway that leads to the kitchen.Kuzy comes out of the shadows for the first time, and though he seems withdrawn, his color is far better than both Nicklas and Alexander Mikhailovich's. Perhaps, Natasha muses, the stories about the vampires and their human companion have more truth than she and her friends gave them credit."I would be happy to take you where you need to go," Kuzy intones, his voice soft, almost lethargic."Thank you," Natasha says, mustering up as genuine a smile as she can, under the circumstances. 5.Zhenya could leave at any time, he knows. Nicky and Sanya would let him.Sanya is better now, healthy and mostly human. Nicky is well, too, never falling so desperately ill as Sanya had been. Zhenya knows it's because of him, because of what he gives them, the strength of his blood. It keeps the nightmares at bay, and it means that he can keep errant hikers safe even when they sit in Nicky's kitchen and drink tea with Sanya.He thinks about this as he guides Nataliya Rostova back to the hiking trails where — hopefully — her friends will be waiting for her.When he first came back to the mountain, after he realized what Nicky was planning to do, he thought they would kill him, or that he would have to kill them. He knows, of course, that he could never have done it — for a hockey player, he has always been a soft heart. Zhenya knows, too, that if it weren't for Nicky's steadfastness, he would have been dead the moment he came back to the house that first time.They reach the trail back to the base camp just as dusk starts to fall. Nataliya Rostova turns to Zhenya. "Thank you," she says, her voice only a little shaky."It was no trouble," he tells her. "You should be safe getting back if you stay on the trail. You have a flashlight?"Nataliya Rostova nods."Good," Zhenya says. "Be well."He turns to leave, but she calls him back. "Why do you — aren't you lonely, here on the mountain?"Zhenya smiles and shakes his head. "Nicky and Sanya are my friends. I'll never be lonely with them."
10677816	Grey Numerous Days and	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "Other", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Original Work", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "6/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-20T00:00:00", "words": "2,184", "Additional Tags": "Poetry, Original work - Freeform, compilation of poetry, Anthology, introspective", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	No spark to catch my wit, A numb tongue and ceaseless hits Still hands do not miss.No musings to interrupt my silence, A crumbling resolution for violence.Hesitation; Senseless hands without trepidation. A horrifying speculation A foreseeing abominationA spectre of fear; haunting disbelief Shocking exaggerationTasteless revelry Curious liveryCrime and constriction Mime and impersonationBlind regret led by poison Venomous caution tugged to lost humiliations Feeling a little tied To a distant ghost of meloncholy A remnant smeared across my heart;My mind preoccupied The loss of coherent calculation Abandoning responsibilities like dust in the wind. Loathsome child Wasting away like so much DecayWishing for all the world to be you A close thundering heart Whistles surely as we part.Little loathsome child Left alone again Aren’t we?I smile to you in envious dismay You look to me like all the World’s okay.Random wishes we discard A clattering kid Believing my heart Never leave me, don’t you please?Loathsome child left alone Abandoned useless thoughts And useless groans Binding teeth and biting lungs Filling mouths with needless pleas Slice this tongue, Cut it. Add it to the ferment. An insidious feeling Unidentifiable: Freezing abolition Keep it confined--An insidious, spitting feeling A spawn of hateful action A “Fuck you,” feeling Red-hot and drowning in absurdity I pull away I don’t shatter No one expects that anywayIt’s not a quality I’d call my own unquestionably That vague assurance Everyone holds completelyIt tugs my eyes away Not my heart-strings No one believes anywayIt’s not a dear concern Just a ghosting worry That I vaguely yearn That Everyone sees as misery ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Knacker, knacker Teeth chatter Clawing dread A jumping fretFeign, faint Loss of hate Spiteful cornerstone Sinking regret Reeling brow Don’t let go now! I bite deep But you bite deeperPeeling frown Don’t stay now! Forgetting is cheap But ignorance is cheaper All these thoughts and feelings Inside my head Are mine to hate and mine to forgetThere is no point to withhold These mixtures and fingers I act as a living cage for. Following a river of calm apathy Deeply churning I want it to let goNo words escape me A loss of trembling excitement Too intimate, much too intimateFollowing me down a cold path An echo of finicky notes And endless restlessnessI fight my hands - Paper brittle, under my nails Pen set alight with my fingertipsNo clever taste on my tongue A sudden hole in my passion Too distant, much too distant Leave it at that. Success is a punishment for those too strong to care. Apathy, too pinpricking for my heart, A song too far away and soul touching for me to hear. Words taste of withheld harshness and so do memories - It’s a lingering thought caught in the snags of my mind, useless and melodic.Senseless and absent, a breathe out and a breathe in - Do you forget the calmness you feel in that present moment? I’m a nothing person. A year spent tired, A future spent reminiscing. Forget and forgive, Let me breathe. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It hurts and I can’t Stop it It hurts and I want It all to stopMy ribs are missing My guts a pool of dark acid My bones wont stop shudderingIt hurts and I won’t Stop it It hurts and I feel Like I’m missingThe music’s far away The echo’s not reaching me The promises I made are all liesIt hurts but I don’t Feel it anymore It hurts but I’m Numbing slowly to it Three Tired Tales:And I can’t help but believe you are lying to me. Keeping everything hidden from me.It’s a story that unfolds in my hands. A secret whispered behind uncertain demands.Brimming with longing, your eyes watering and hands quaking. Lost and never found, you let the song flow out of your palms and into void. sick, very sick.There’s something living inside my chest Sickening and clawing and tearing and BitingThere’s something dieing inside my head Pushing and shoving and hurting and CryingLeft alone, don’t leave me alone Don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t Take me far away With the little black mark Sipping my soul Lost to myself Wish me away I want to stop thinking But the numbing won’t stay. A pool in my hands Held against my chest Forgiven, you weakened slowlyA heart in your palms Held to your breast Haunted, I smiled coldly Grit and Kisses, for you my heart,Swallow piss and wineTry not to cry you’ll be just fineSuck it up you disgusting pigYou’ve got a cold ice cube wallowing in your spitJust shut your eyes little mouseYou’re blind anyway don’t know anythingCrawl away in slime and don’t blink Otherwise you’ll just thinkYou’ve got no right to it so cut it outYour eyes are the perfect target Get out of your ribcageYou failure, you little gullible thing Graceless Face.Another waste of space, Another unaccountable case Remember when you Cried every night?Useless failure-- Useless words spilling from your stomach Recall your struggle In the thick of my gaze?Buried under rubbish beliefs, Buried under your own pointless thoughts; Bite your lip and touch those Memories you know are fake. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Flatware--I repeat and I repeat There’s a vat of acid, lying in my gut It boils up And stoppers my fitI choke and I choke There’s a rock, Feeling like obsidian Stuck in the crevices and folds Of my giddiness Soft meloncholy Gentle against this abrased mind Whispers, of forgotten follies....Nevermind. Confusion, dusty fear. A river of silence Shiver with your sheer Feeling of impudence.Unfinished, unwarranted. Here's the static, the sweating:My head is static and my heart is quaking. What does it matter that I’m not shaking? I feel like I’m crumbling, but I’m still standing tall; I feel like I’m empty but my mind is simply an echo. My body is calm but everything is dull - doesn’t that mean that there’s something wrong? Doesn’t that mean that I’m wrong? Wrong, twisted up, but I can’t quite feel it. It’s just a dim recollection of times I cried and times I died. Everything feels slow, like I’m walking through mud. Unoriginal, uncreative, uninspired. I’m just a shambling wreck of makeshift dreams and hopes, too bewildered to stay together, to pretend I’m normal. Because I am normal. Eccentricity is the word used to describe us, these wandering golems, filled with dusty aspirations and too sharp affections. Sometimes I burn too much, and I must be quiet. I must be silent, no words of comfort, no words of concern; because what do they mean? They mean nothing, empty husks spooned out of my mouth with no sincere meaning. A conversation repeated, the expected response so dull now that I know I must be silent, for I know I burn too much. Your words are just as routine as mine, just as expected, just as empty. Discarded Amongst the draftsYou whistle softly ‘Tween my earsYou want to see it, Right?Want to hold it, To speak it.But it is discarded Among the endless past. There is a narrow opening Beside my bed. The wall, huddled so close to it, Is open with its secrets. When I press my hand into that aperture, The ceaseless, soft energies Brush carefully along the flesh. A tingling, So quietly within my buzzing skin, Real inside my head even as My heart glazes with calm. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Throw-away comments like throw-away sheets, difficult to mend and difficult to please. I have no words.They bled from my mouth Along with the hope of meeting you.This tongue wasn’t meant for talking - this mouth For keeping silent.A whisper, a defragmentation An excellent collaboration Of our minds. It’s a wild hope of useless huesA feral must-have that I feel I must have. Alone and not lonely Lonely but not alone. It’s all just a good-bye note to you, a string of ink letters filed neatly along the ivory page. You read quietly, comforted and departed, and I know that the words that reach you now are meaningless. Everything I pour out now is just a hollow repetition of so many others, and your ears must be worn and tired. An endless sand dune, minuscule droplets of hard earth and shell, all the same in their texture and film. You can see it just as clearly as I understand it, but I am just as blind as your groping mind. Sticks bundled about with no limbs in sight. How can it see, with all the lights and spoons in its way?from a story i will never tell to a person that will never hear. It’s like a diary I can’t read, full of complex phrases and double words. It’s like when you speak and all I hear is coarse language, what I know you feel and what you refuse to believe you feel. And it cuts deeply, staring down at this book in my hands, full of gibberish and useless meaning, and it cuts deeply, looking at your feet while sounds tremble out of your lips, overflowing with hurt and bruises.And it’s like when I fidget and you scowl, it’s like when I throw my head back and laugh and you tut-tut under your tongue. Anger.A haunting crevice opening up Inside my lungs, breaking my Belly open, breaking my Ribcage open.A heavy flow of mineral fluid Running from my eyes to my mouth Choking down my words before I speak. It’s not sadness.I’ve acquired the taste of it Full bodied and seen through heavy black lens Troubled expression, self-rot Maybe someday I’ll forget about it Just like everyone else does, Just like you say I must. All anyone ever gets is one chance, just one, one to smooth out, free of uniform blemishes, just one chance to hang above their heads and just one chance to pretend that it won’t hang them by their necks when it ends. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Irony:It burns into the retina of your eyes, colored muck that they scoop out to press against your mouth. You fidget and turn your head, but a gripping hand encircles the curve of your jaw and your pulse thrums low against the band of their lifeline. It’s etched out so starkly, so vividly, a line of fine ornamental pitch burning into the skin of your mind. Nervous:A squeezing, lingering note Leaving an ashy taste in the mouth. A sputter, a cleanser Set to a refined palate.Tight feeling expiring in the compound Restless legs fluttering about. Twitching fingers and aching Flickers of the eyes. hopeless--Maybe i shouldn’t waste my time with this. maybe i should just give up on trying.It’s not exactly easy, after all. it’s not exactly that i’m good at these things naturally, and trying to be better only makes it worse.A sigh, then i leave the wondering to another time, another me. a sigh, then i try to forget that i cared. I am Writing to a Person that does not exist.A trembling forethought I cannot keep for long--wilting and crumbling within my foreign cryptComplexity and twining letters....All listed and filed. A lie that all know with a certainApathy, empathy,What does it matter that it solidifies in my mind, rusted and filthy?Forgive, comfort, I laughingly plea,Whisper useless reassurances I do not believe, andTell me I'm not broken. A cat's purr whispers sweeter endearmentsThan have rolled from your golden tongueAnd again, I wonder why Iattempt this vague,disorientated,flawed attempt at words and writing. This is not the point. It never was.You are not here. You never were, never will be.I send a letter to a "you," now, unlabeled and unknown--Buried in an unbirthed, untainted womb.A letter carrying the whimsies of my want, of my desperation. This is a love letter to you,a person that does not existAnd this is a lie, sent to myself,a person that steeps in delusion. Defragmented--Start with the title.Learn the simple symphoniesThe words, whole.That word is not right; no one knows it.That letter speaks sickly; no one wants it.Either speak correctly, precisely,or don't open thatGaping mouththatAddled mind, filled with blackened holes.Whole--I'm whole.You won't believe it;You won't remember it. Empty Song Title:my body Sways with Emotionbut my head sighs and ringswith Calm. Nobody can read my handwritingbut everyone can hurt me.they say 'Rude,' and mean'Cruel,'and they slam the doors, all the corridor down. And they frivolously forgetwhile i ache andkeep my mouth tight with Grit.Tight around a million truths of myselfand a million lies Nobody wants. Thoughtless luck, gleaming around the edges of fingerscurled around mucky Smiles.similes of similar kindwrapped about a copied mind.
10655913	About couples of 3 and	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Fujioka Haruhi, Hitachiin Kaoru, Hitachiin Hikaru", "Fandom": "Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Elizabehta_Beilschmidt", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-17T00:00:00", "words": "4,413", "Additional Tags": "Dorks, OT3, Fluff and Humor, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Dorks in Love, look this is just them getting together and smooching", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Fujioka Haruhi/Hitachiin Hikaru, Fujioka Haruhi/Hitachiin Hikaru/Hitachiin Kaoru, Fujioka Haruhi/Hitachiin Kaoru, Hitachiin Hikaru/Hitachiin Kaoru", "Series": "Polyamory", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Multi, F/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Haruhi has never been a complicated girl, she preferred simple things. She enjoyed hunting sales at the supermarket and living her commoner’s life at peace. Well, as peaceful as it can be having the Ouran Host Club as her best friends. Yes, she loved them and thought of them as her friends although they bother her more than she would like to. She treasured her time with them and today was no exception, not even when she had to cosplay as a greek goddess (obviously without the customers finding out her gender) and had to play scenes of mythology with the host, getting fangirl screams in the process. She loved her normal and simple life, her normal days at school with the boys. What she didn’t know was how her relationship with them had changed. She was so dense that she still hadn’t realized the way that even Kyoya looked at her from time to time when he wasn’t writing down new additions to her debt on his notebook. Even Kyoya! Slowly, the petite girl has wrapped the most influential men in the country, and probably the world, around her finger. And that without counting guys like Kasanoda that weren’t on the Host club. But, let’s not talk about that. This is about two lovers in particular, the Hitachiin twins. They both loved her but couldn’t agree with who should get the girl, even if she would want them that is. They loved her, at the same time, and often fought because of that; but always hiding it from the other so as not to get in any troubles as the last time. Haruhi would never love them both, they knew that. It was impossible to… have a couple with three people, it wouldn’t work. On one hand, there was the moral part: society would not agree and they will be pointed at everyday; it would destroy Haruhi’s dream to be a successful lawyer, they couldn’t do that to her. On the other hand, it was themselves: Hikaru is very jealous and he couldn’t even share his brother with other people (which are their friends), although he has been controlling it; otherwise, Kaoru, used to give up everything to his brother, to lie for him, and knew that Haruhi hated it. They knew it was difficult and would never work out. That is if she chose them, of course, and if Haruhi would have a relationship with two people at the same time. It was reckless, they knew, but they were so madly in love that every day it seemed a better idea, the best one. It wasn’t about choosing between their brother or the love of their life anymore, about breaking a life-long friendship or losing her forever. They already do everything together, and always found a way to do so. Why not take it further? First, they did a few tests, just to be sure. They took her to their house to introduce her to their parents, sitting together at the table and acting as normal as they could with her, trying if they could really do everything together; but Haruhi was the natural host and it went smoothly as usual. Then, they went further and invited her to sleep in their house. They didn’t try anything perverted, and of course they didn’t tell Tamaki about it (but probably Kyoya knew everything), so it was just the three of them alone. They did not want to bug the King of the Host Club nor make fun of anyone nor take good pictures for Kyoya to sell to the best bidder; just them as the best friends they were. Haruhi, as oblivious as always, just went along and laughed with them. She wasn’t disturbed by the fact of sharing a room. Maybe she doesn’t consider us as men, said Kaoru when they thought about their possibilities. They wanted to change that. And then, at last, one day in their break at the host club when they didn’t have any customers, they chatted with her as usual, as normal as possible, until they asked what they wanted to know. “Say, Haruhi,” said simultaneously, “would you go out with a host?” It’s not that they wanted to encourage her to go out with any of them, they just wanted to know if she saw them as possible… partners? in the future. She thought a few seconds that were important while Hikaru and Kaoru were thankful that the other hosts were busy and weren’t listening. “Well, I won’t deny that I’ve thought about that sometime,” she put a serious face, but they knew her and saw the small spark in her big, brown eyes, “but I can’t think about that stuff right now. I need to study to keep my scholarship” Translation: yes, she has thought about them in that kind of situation out of the Host Club stuff. And that means they had hope. And for that, they chose to risk it. Haruhi has been always very understanding and mature in her decisions; is what they thought when the option of losing her friendship was obvious when they’ll tell her their idea: They wanted a relationship with her. They both, at the same time. She didn’t know why she was still here, on top of a ski slope lost somewhere in a mountain whose name she couldn’t pronounce but sounded like a type of cheese. With a serious face, she tried to remember how she got there in the first place. She was peacefully making her father’s dinner at home, when people in black clothes broke into her house, put her in a bag and pushed her inside a car that sped down the street. Nobody spoke to her and she stood very still, as she was used to, knowing it just has to be one of her host friends. What a sense of humor, she thought bitterly when they finally got her out of the car (a limousine?) and shove her inside a… plane? Okay, this was more than enough. Freed from her bag, she took in her surroundings as her eyes grew used to the brightness as the flight attendants gave instructions in english. Great, she was in a private jet in her ugly “house clothes”, in a very bad mood, with the ones and only twins. “What the heck am I doing here?” she growled knitting her eyebrows and crossing her arms. “We are taking you out this weekend!” said Hikaru. “What do you think?” asked Kaoru. “And you need a private jet for ‘going out’?” she raised an eyebrow, incredulous. The trip ended up being a ski trip to a very high mountain (with a lot of dangerous cliffs, by the way) in a country which name they didn’t want to tell her because “she’d want to turn around when she knew”. They were positive that she wasn’t used to traveling by private jets to the other part of the world and she would throw a fit. Commoners. So, she was about to do something that’d hurt, a lot, because she already could see her becoming a giant snowball rolling down the hill. “What are you doing, Haruhi?” asked Kaoru, jumping above her head in his snowboard. They both went to a higher place, for experts. “Come on! It’ll be fun!” said Hikaru flashing just by her at top speed. She eyed them with a little sweatdrop falling in the back of her head. She looked down again, where the silhouettes of the twins swirled gracefully, and for a second she thought it couldn’t be half bad. She thought that maybe she wouldn’t die. She let go, knowing it was a very bad idea the moment she felt the wind hit the uncovered skin of her face. Yep, now she was positive she wouldn’t make it alive. She closed her eyes expecting the snow in her mouth, and maybe other parts of her body as well, and the bruises that will come; but nothing happened at all, just the feeling of the unmerciful wind slowly dying away and other people’s voices around. She carefully opened her hazel eyes finding she was perfectly fine and alive at the end of the hill, people looking astonished and the twins laughing their heads off in the background. Of her, probably. She snorted, feeling her face hot, and took off her skis before approaching her friends while avoiding the curious stares. She looked daggers at them when she got there and threw the skis at them. “You should have seen your face!” “You even closed your eyes!” “It’s not even funny”, she said, trying not to turn away and leave. “I could have died.” “But, why did you close your eyes? Is even more dangerous!” “I don’t know how did you dodge those people so fast with your eyes closed” She glared at them, crossing her arms. “Beginner's luck”, they simply said and shrugged. Haruhi sighed again and slowly her face relaxed. She couldn’t be angry with them for much longer, they were her friends. Her best friends. “I think skiing is over for today”, she said, taking off her helmet. While untying her gloves, she noticed that the twins were strangely silent. Lifting her head, she looked at the weird glint in their eyes, but she was interrupted before she could ask. “What..?” “If you don’t wanna ski…”, started Hikaru smiling, taking off his stuff and throwing it around. Strangely enough, someone appeared out of nowhere and took them elsewhere. “...then….”, said Kaoru with a smile as big as his brother’s. “Let’s go sightseeing!”, they shouted. Oh, mother... , thought the girl, already feeling tired for the things she was going to be forced to do. She was literally tired. She couldn’t feel her feet, her head was pounding like crazy and she was going to faint sometime soon. Her bag, which wasn’t really her bag but some clothes the twins have lent her, was filled with more presents for her father than she ever has got him before, and souvenirs from that place (which name she had finally learned and fought with the twins because of that) that she couldn’t close it properly. She just wanted to get a shower and sleep. Nothing else mattered. And because of that she didn’t realize she was being guided to a hotel room, filled with luxuries that she didn’t look at, but just one room. For them. She neither saw when the twins put two beds together to make a queen sized one and hers was right next to it or that the clothes she found in her suitcase weren’t her oversized t-shirt and old pjs’ pants. Neither she saw the anxious faces of the twins. It is true that they were acting strange all the way through the town, but they always got to distract her in time until she forgot about it. As she took her shower, Hikaru looked at his brother Kaoru, who nodded. Now was the time. They would bet everything they had and risk their relationship with Haruhi tonight. They were scared, very scared, but they knew they had to do it; and knowing Haruhi it’d end well one way or another. She always took things with a calm face. She always did the right thing. They had to believe it. They waited until she finished and when they saw her in the pajamas they chose for her, towelling her hair, they rose from their seats and sighed. It’s now or never, they thought. “Haruhi”, said Kaoru softly. She looked at them with fatigue in her eyes. “Sit down, please”, said Hikaru pointing at a chair close to the beds. They sat in front of her. “Did something happen?”, she asked, getting worried and trying to put the tiredness aside for them. She frowned slightly thinking about what they could want. “Relax, it isn’t something bad”, Kaoru took a mouthful of air and sighed. “Haruhi,” he could mutter with a serious face, “you are very important to us, not just for being the only one who can tell us apart, but also for being our very first true friend.” “You make our days brighter and when we can’t see you we feel like something’s missing. We don’t know exactly when the way we see you changed, but before we could realize it we needed you, even more than we needed each other.” Hikaru continued. “When we found out how we felt about you we knew it wasn’t going to end well.” “We love you, Haruhi.” She widened her eyes, surprised, but kept silent and let them continue. “If one of us went for it, the other would suffer.” “We were so scared, Haruhi”, confessed Kaoru and she believed it. Believed all of it. Naked emotion all over their faces; expressions like theirs could not tell lies. “That’s why we… we thought about this.” This was the important part. “Haruhi,” Kaoru breathed deeply and looked at his brother. He nodded. “Would you go out with us?”, they said, fixing their eyes to the big hazel of the frozen girl in front of them. “Both of us”, completed Kaoru. “At the same time”, finished Hikaru closing his eyes and waiting for rejection. But nothing happened. Startled, he opened his eyes only to find Haruhi in the same place, frozen like a statue and speechless. What could she be thinking? Would she hate them for proposing such a crazy idea? She was very logical, following rules all the time. She knew what was right and what wasn’t. But there was no reaction at all. That was a bad signal, right? He turned to Kaoru, distressed, who probably wore the same face as him, and then looked to Haruhi when they heard her chair. She rose in silence, murmured something like she was going to sleep and went under the covers of her bed without saying another word. Astonished, and a bit hurt for her lack of reaction, the twins stared at the floor knowing the obvious answer. No. A big, fat no in bold letters. Hikaru closed his eyes trying to contain the tears that fought to be free and got up slowly with his hands fisted; then he went to his side of the bed in equal silence. Kaoru sighed and turned off the lights, going to the bed and allowing the weight of the moment to get to him. Then realized he wouldn’t get any sleep that night. He sighed again, but this time it came choked in a strangled sob that he could hide in time in the darkness and quietness of the night. He heard another sob, but this one came from his brother. He looked at his side and there he was, curled up in a ball and hiding his face on the pillow to muffle his crying. Because he was crying, he knew. He was his brother and knew what the other was feeling. He rolled to him and carefully hugged him, feeling his pain and trying to soothe it. They had failed and probably now Haruhi wouldn’t want anything to do with them, would treat them differently. On the other bed, Haruhi was lying with her back turned to them, eyes wide open, but that was something they couldn’t know. Her heart beating fast and her brain repeating what had just happened again and again. Slowly processing what they had proposed, her thick head realizing why they had brought her here in the first place or why they were acting so weird today… They were nervous. She focused on the matter at hand. A couple of three people? They really got to share everything or adapt everything to fit them all and enjoy it together. She thought about it some more; for example, the way they looked at her, the way they treated her or how they behaved that day. The twins loved her and most likely they knew that it wasn’t an easy thing, neither for her nor them. She wasn’t blind, she knew how illegal this could be. It was not well regarded by society; they would be glared at, pointed at, and they’d try to hurt them or break them up. The boys were heirs of such a big company, this could bring their ruin. And there was their parents, of course. What would Ranka say about this? She was so scared. But then she thought that to hell with those who cared what other people do with their lives, who they love. Because yes, she loved them. She was afraid and probably was going to be the hardest thing in her life but she wanted to at least try. It had been so long since she stopped seeing them as just friends, but she didn’t know what to do with these new feelings inside, so she tried to ignore them. Today had been an eye opener, though. She turned and looked at the silhouettes of her friends in the bed at her side. Were they sleeping? If that was the case then she could tell them tomorrow… Wait, what was that? Sounded like a… sob? She stood in her bed, putting away the blankets, and listened carefully to confirm that it was sob indeed. She silently got up and approached the twin’s bed just to face the most… heartwarming? thing in the world. Could be. She smiled, amusement barely drowning the sadness and orry - the twins, her best friends and who she was willing to try this couple of three, were crying in the arms of the other. They looked like children, and she realized that was what they were beyond the jokes, smirks and everyday pranks. They were completely different people when those were gone, now there was just their bare hearts and pure feelings. She walked closer to their bed and gently caressed their faces, watching with newfound eyes under the moonlight that leaked from the window, and receiving their watery eyes with a content smile. The boys stared at her with hope shining brightly in their eyes and she nodded still smiling. Full of happiness, the twins jumped to her and hugged her like they used to, so the girl could be shared and everyone had their part. Remaining tears ran down their cheeks while they smiled with joy. “Haruhi...”, whispered Kaoru full of emotion. “Yes, here I am”, she said and they knew she meant something more than just physically. “Come here”, and Hikaru dragged her between them onto the double bed, Kaoru pulling the blanket over her as well, keeping her warm and comfy. Her smile grew bigger when she felt their arms around her, Hikaru’s head in her chest and Kaoru’s somewhere between her shoulder and hair. She lifted a hand to caress Hikaru’s soft hair while closing her eyes to sleep peacefully at last. “Haruhi,” whispered Hikaru a bit too softly for him. His face was so red that Haruhi internally laughed, amused by the sight. “Can I…. Can I kiss you?” She froze not knowing what to say, but nodded a few seconds later. Carefully, he approached her lips and gently touched them with his feeling like this was what he has been waiting for all his life. It was sweet and warm, and everything he needed. Kaoru watched in silence. He wasn’t going to hide the jealousy he felt of his brother; knowing this was Haruhi’s first kiss (with a man) and there weren't two of those for the twins. With a “devilish brothers” trademark smile, he came up with an idea to have something “new” of Haruhi for both brothers. While waiting for them to finish he sniffed Haruhi’s scent in her neck, enjoying the warmth. “Ah…”, he heard them sigh and admired their blushed happy cheeks. He then thought that maybe this was a bad idea and he should forfeit and leave them be, as he intended in the beginning; but smiled instead knowing that they would break up if he did because they knew how much he cared for both. “Kaoru…”, Haruhi said, watching him and suspecting his thoughts. She lifted a hand to his hair and pulled to reach his mouth more easily, wanting to give equal attention to both brothers. She felt again his soft warmth, so similar to Hika’s… but kinda different. It wasn’t better or worse, just different. And she so loved it. Haruhi happily kissed the boy and let him feel her love and acceptance of this relationship; but then something wet distracted her and a slight bite in her lower lip made her blush wildly. She opened her eyes and rolled them when she saw the devilish glint in the golden eyes of her now boyfriend. She smiled, letting him in nonetheless. A new world of sensations disclosed before her, making her think “oh, so that’s why everyone's so obsessed with this”. It was even warmer and hot than before with Hikaru; more rash and demanding, but soft and tingly and nice. She loved it too. When they finally got apart she was flying far away from there, floating like a feather. Hikaru demanded her attention and trapped her swollen lips with his own, taking advantage of her absent state of mind from Kaoru’s kiss. Without asking permission, he ventured in with his tongue and attacked her mouth mercilessly, but kindly, not wanting to take this somewhere uncomfortable for both and making sure that she could end it if she desired. She could always end this if she wanted. Haruhi had to admit that this was way different from Kaoru. More enthusiastic, rash, fast and intense; making her realise that Hikaru had been wanting this from way long back. While Kaoru was more relaxed and controlled, Hikaru wanted her all and devoured her whole with his lips. And as she surrendered her body to the boy, she felt her mind abandon her right there and then. She couldn’t make even a coherent thought at the moment. Her head was spinning out of control when they finally got apart and she could not feel the bites and kisses all around her neck and shoulders. So many caresses, so much love, that it was choking her. And it was doubled tonight. Again one of the brothers captured her lips (Kaoru, she imagined by the slight calmness in the movement against them) while the other was kissing the sensitive skin of her throat. For a brief moment, she wondered if that’ll leave marks. But, well she will worry about that tomorrow. The next morning, Haruhi woke up to sun rays hitting her right in the eyes. She frowned and opened them feeling really hot, too much, and couldn’t even move. When she saw the sleeping faces of the twins, one on her chest and the other next to her head, she remembered everything that happened the previous night. She blushed and was about to scream, but stopped just in time to not wake the brothers. She sighed. She watched them sleep for a while without worrying about the hour. Their faces were so relaxed and calm, a bit red by the heat, and a cute smile on their lips. It was such a contrast with the tears from last night when they thought that she despised them for asking if she was interested in them. They looked like scared kids, but that’s exactly what they essentially were: children. In so many ways. Especially in emotion management. She felt someone stirr in his sleep and wake up. Kaoru, she knew instantly because he was always the first one to do it. She rolled her head and kissed his cheek softly to greet him. His eyes were bright and showed so much happiness that her heart skipped a beat. “Good morning”, he whispered before kissing her in a chaste kiss on the lips. “Good morning”, she smiled. “Shall we wake him up?”, Haruhi looked down to the redhead on her chest. Kaoru nodded. Haruhi gently grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged, but no reaction came from the boy. She pulled with a bit more strength but still nothing. She sighed. Haruhi knew that Hika was a heavy sleeper, but this? She glanced at Kaoru expecting further instructions, but she found him pointing at his own lips, which were arched in a smile, his eyes shining with mischief. She rolled her eyes but still bowed down to press her lips softly on the other twin’s ones. (Not) Surprisingly, the boy was awake and trapped her there not wanting to let go, a very Chesire-like smile on his face. Haruhi glared briefly at him but let it slide. She was just too happy to fake annoyance that long. And then, because neither of them really wanted to get up, they stayed in bed for a while sharing hugs, kisses and cuddling nonstop, enjoying each other’s presence and new found love. Not even the heat seemed to bother them. “Room service!”, said a voice through the door after a few knocks. Before they could move to get up, a maid opened said door and entered the room pushing a cart with covered food on it. “I brought lunch as you ordere-” Her voice faded when she looked up from her carefully placed plates and cups and finally saw the twins and Haruhi all cuddly in bed, really close (closer than anyone else in the room would be comfortable with), with the red-faced girl in the middle. “Eh…”, the embarrassed maid managed to say. “I’ll… I’ll leave you alone now… Yes, I’m going.” And then she literally ran away, closing the room’s door behind. Haruhi, Hikaru and Kaoru looked at each other before exploding in laughter at the absurd situation. Kaoru mentally made a note to give the maid a generous tip before they left this afternoon. “I guess it’s time to eat, right?”, said Haruhi when her breathing slowed down. They helped her down the bed and put her between them, as usual, before pulling the cart closer. Without warning Kaoru grabbed Haruhi in for a tight hug, which Hikaru joined, making a successful Haruhi sandwich. They laughed again softly, just being silly and happy, letting the joy of finally being together flow through their bodies. But there was still an important question: What would they say to the rest of the Host Club? Well, we’ll leave that for another moment.
10636308	Accidentally Saving	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Gon Freecs, Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura, Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s)", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by LoveMeImFab", "chapters": "3/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-15T00:00:00", "words": "7,342", "Additional Tags": "Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Dimension Travel, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blind Character, Basically", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Gon Freecs/Original Male Character(s), Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Naruto, Hunter X Hunter", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	He liked to reminisce sometimes, in the quiet moments when the world was completely silent. He would close his eyes, and try to remember before. He could recall lots of green, blurry in his memories, but a color so vibrantly different to the black, brown, and red that filled his sights now. Blue was another color he hadn’t seen in forever. He thought it was what the sky used to look like, before the clouds turned black and covered it. The hardest thing to remember was what a clean world smelled like. Every time he tried, all he would smell was decay and dust. Silence was a blessing, a cursed one, filled with tragedy and heartache, but a blessing nonetheless. It meant there was no Eclipse nearby, and that, for just that one moment, he was safe. Safety wasn’t something easily come by anymore, not with the horrors roaming around the outside world. He had found a cave of sorts, a few chunks of what used to be parts of mountains had smashed together and created an opening big enough for his tiny body to squirm through. The inside was dark, but so was everywhere else, and he had learned to rely on senses other than sight- after all, he hadn’t needed to use it for quite some time. It was large enough for him to stand up and comfortably lay down with enough room for his things as well. Nowadays it was only one item that he carried with him everywhere, having lost all personal belongings years ago. The Stone Thing was his most important possession in this world, and the only thing that could save his life. After years of chasing down each and every piece, he finally had them all. It was with trembling hands that he placed each individual part into the rather ugly whole, not that he had much to go on besides the shape of it. Why it was called The Stone Thing was because of the last, and most important part of the whole contraption- a flat and smooth, probably black rock. Taking a deep breath, he focused on his childhood, back before he became a hunter, and then he placed the stone in the three metal prongs. Nothing happened. His thought process stopped completely for a moment as he felt despair and hopelessness fill him. And then there was pain, worse than anything he had ever felt- like he was being squashed, and pulled apart, his bones turning to mush, and then hardening in all the wrong places. He couldn’t even describe the immense pain that wracked through his body, everything happening simultaneously and yet lasting for years, until it all finally just stopped. He woke suddenly, awareness flooding in within seconds, and he immediately wished he had remained blissfully unconscious, where the immense pain bombarding him from every direction could not reach him. He felt weak, and small, as if his entire body had been stuffed into a ball the size of a child’s palm. His whole body throbbed, specifically his ribs, as if he had been kicked there with too much force, and then a weighted anvil had been placed on them while he slept. Everything felt like one big bruise. Every part of his body, from the top of his head to the tips of his fingers and toes, was in sharp clarity- he could feel the blood rushing, and the muscles tensing against his will. Despite all the pain, the most pressing misery was in his eyes. The light, even with them closed, the light was piercing and excruciating beyond belief. He had lived for years in absolute darkness, and now he was being bombarded with light that his body wasn’t ready for. It hurt. Ignoring the protestations of his body, he lifted his left arm and placed his face in the crook of his elbow, darkening things considerably until he couldn’t feel that specific pain anymore- which unfortunately made everything else hurt more, especially the results of him moving his arm. Wishing to focus on anything else, he turned his incredible senses outwards. He could feel scratchy sheets beneath his exposed skin, and something softer than he had felt in years, which suggested he was on a bed. That meant The Stone Thing had worked to some extent since comforts such as beds didn’t exist anymore where he came from. Next on the list was finding out where he was. He made a small sound, using a very handy form of echolocation that he had learned. Sound bounced back to his very attuned ears, and through that he was able to deduce that he was in a hospital type place, from what he could vaguely recall them looking like. His bed was halfway surrounded by a curtain on the right side, ending before the foot of his bed. To the left was a window that was slightly open. He didn’t quite know what was behind the curtain, but he figured it was other beds and a door. Outside the window he could hear some people walking around, talking and laughing with each other, which was quite the balm to his soul; being around living people again was so overwhelming, he didn’t know if he felt like he was going to cry from joy or run away from the situation he no longer knew how to handle. He listened as a little girl exclaimed loudly to her mother that these flowers will make her leg heal faster. A small smile unconsciously graced his cracked lips as he heard the mother laugh lightly and pick up her daughter to swing her around, the little girl squealing in delight. He felt his eyes burning up, his throat clogging, and his chest burning. These emotions were almost foreign, but he was so happy to be alive for this moment, to listen to the simple joys of a child and a mother. They were things he had forgotten, but it was well worth all the pain and heartache he had gone through, just so he could experience this one moment of pure happiness. Muffled voices to his right caught his attention and sobered him up. They were coming closer to his position, and even though they were obviously trying to be quiet, he could easily make out what they were saying. “I apologize for the brashness, Hokage-sama, but we need answers!” This voice was male, sounding to be in his early thirties. He was speaking urgently and with an argumentative tone, but with an underlying note of respect. “I understand, Hamara,” an old and withered sounding man spoke up, “but he’s just a boy, probably the same age as your son. How would you feel if your eleven year old son was ruthlessly interrogated?” What. The last time he had checked, he was in his twenties. And sure, maybe he had been malnourished, and a little short from stuffing himself into small caves, but there is no way that he could pass as an eleven year old... unless his body had gone back in time as well, and he was in the state of his younger self. Which, thinking about it, would make sense. After all, one of his pains was feeling like he was being stuffed into something considerably smaller than he was used to. “Ureta, can you tell me the state of his body?” The old man asked. He perked up a bit, wanting to know everything that was wrong. “He is severely malnourished and dehydrated,” a woman’s voice started, clinically detached, but with a professionally hidden note of concern. “His body has undergone a large amount of stress, stunting the growth. Several bones are incorrectly healed. His eyesight is greatly damaged, and his vocal flaps are thin from disuse. He may not ever be able to see again, and talking will be difficult for about a month or two. He is suffering from an extreme case of chakra exhaustion, to the point that it’s a clinical mystery how he is still alive.” She quieted down as the three of them reached his room. The door opened and they shuffled in, walking to the foot of his bed. “Are you awake, son?” The old man asked, and he moved his head a bit, ignoring the sharp pain that inflicted on his neck. “Where did you come from?” Hamara asked gruffly. “Hamara-san,” Ureta cut in harshly, “talking will be difficult for him. Yes or no questions only. I must insist.” Hamara huffed, “Do you know where you are?” He shook his head. “You showed up in front of Konoha’s gates, unconscious. I find this all highly suspicious.” “Hamara,” the old man cut in warningly. “I apologize, Hokage-sama. Do you remember what happened to you?” Does he remember the years of the Eclipse? He nodded his head, pretty sure he could never forget that. What he doesn’t remember is ever hearing of a place called Konoha, or what chakra is, but he figured it was just one of those things that were swept away in favor of survival. “What happened?” “Yes or no questions only, Hamara-san.” Hamara made a frustrated noise, “Fine! Someone else ask the questions!” Footsteps shuffled away and there was the sound of cloth shifting as it rested against a wall. “What is your name, young man,” the old man asked. He waited for the woman to reprimand him, but she said nothing. Clearly this man was the leader of wherever he was. “G-” He started coughing, nearly hacking up a lung, his body convulsing a bit. After a moment, he tried again, happier than ever that his name was only a single syllable. “Gon.” His voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper, but it was intelligible. “Well, Gon, it’s nice to meet you. I am the Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen.” He sounded kind, and trusting, but Gon could tell he was just a bit wary of him. “I’m assuming you are about eleven?” He left it open ended, waiting for Gon to agree or disagree. Gon did neither, choosing instead to shrug, unsure what this body’s exact age was until he looked in a mirror, which would probably be impossible, if what Ureta said was correct and he was blind- not that he had many issues with that, it was what he was used to. “Have you already graduated the academy?” Academy? Gon had never gone to school before, so he shook his head. “Then as soon as you are healed enough, you will be joining the graduating class. We will give you a private tutor to help you with whatever you have missed.” He turned away to address Hamara, “Get Hyuuga Asuka and tell her that she’ll be getting her practical experience.” “Yes, Hokage-sama.” Gon could hear as Hamara left them, closing the door rather loudly. “Asuka is a teacher in training,” Hiruzen explained, “but before she can become a full time instructor, she has to tutor someone.” Gon nodded to show he understood. There was silence as they waited for Gon’s new tutor. Two minutes later, Gon heard Hamara whispering to someone as they came to his room, “This is going to be a tough one, Hyuuga-san. He can’t see or talk, but for some reason, the Hokage thinks he can still be a shinobi.” “If the Hokage thinks he should be a shinobi, then I will do my best to make sure that happens.” Hyuuga Asuka had a wonderful voice, kind and melodious, Gon felt that he could listen to it all day, which he probably would get the chance to. They walked through the door, and both of the newcomers greeted Hiruzen. “This is Gon,” the Hokage said, introducing him to Asuka. “He’s eleven, and needs to get caught up at the academy. Your job will be to tutor him while he’s healing, and if he needs it, then while he’s in the academy. He can’t see, and talking is difficult, but Ureka said he will be capable of full speech in about a month, if it’s practiced. Do you think you can handle it?” Asuka was quiet for a moment, and Gon had half expected her to decline. “I accept the job offer, Hokage-sama.” Hiruzen sounded significantly more chipper when he spoke next, “Wonderful! Then I shall leave you two to get acquainted.” Three pairs of footsteps walked out of the room. There was an awkward silence for a few moments, “Gon, was it? My name is Hyuuga Asuka. You can just call me Asuka-sensei.” She paused, as if waiting for a response. The quiet was uncomfortable. She finally started moving, and Gon listened as she walked around the room, grabbing a chair, and setting it next to his bed. “So,” she said, dropping into the seat, “I’ll tell you a bit about me, to start off. I’m twenty-five years old, and a branch member of the Hyuuga clan. I’m only a chunin, but becoming a jounin didn’t really interest me. Since I was in the academy, I had been fascinated with becoming a teacher, and inspiring young minds. I took all of the classes, and I’m well studied, I assure you... But I will admit that you are the first student I will take on.” Gon nodded, not really minding. It would help if he actually knew what half of her introduction meant, but she used so many strange words that Gon knew almost nothing more about her than he did when she had just walked in. “Now, I want you to try talking. I know it will hurt, but you have to exercise it a bit. Tell me something about you, okay?” Gon nodded, and then focused on what he wanted to say. Through everything, he had figured something very important out, and it was time that he started getting some answers. “I-” he coughed twice, “I think... I'm from a different world.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Sadly, life wasn’t as easy as Gon wished it was, so his proclamation that he came from a different world, was taken as proof that he didn’t have a good childhood, and that someone was abusing or brainwashing him. Which, to be fair, was a good assumption. If an eleven year old that had plenty medical signs of abuse and malnutrition said that they were from a different world, many would assume that they were either joking, or had been placed in a facility to be experimented on. So Gon was now subjected to learning everything about everything, which was amazing, because that was what he wanted in the first place. He could do without the nurses acting like he was a delicate two year old, though. Aside from the babying, Gon learned plenty about the world he had landed in, confirming that it was indeed a different dimension, not just a place that he had forgotten about. In the daytime the nurses, called medic-nin, would come and re break and heal his bones, making some of the pains he had learned to ignore disappear completely. Sometimes, when Asuka-sensei wasn’t around, he would go on walks out in the gardens. He had commandeered a thick piece of cloth which he wrapped securely around his eyes, making everything a comfortable black. It was obvious how uncomfortable he made people, walking around without sight, clicking his tongue every few seconds, but he wanted to get around without help, and try to figure things out for himself. It took three days, but he had created a pretty accurate map in his mind of the whole hospital, all without help. He felt pretty proud of himself. Outside was the harder part, where there were no enclosed spaces, but he had been echolocating on nearly flat plains for years, so having the trees around was making everything easier. On his fourth day of wandering outside, he found the hospital training ground, which, if the lessons didn’t make it obvious enough, reaffirmed in his mind that almost everyone was a fighter of sorts. Shinobi, they were called. And soon, in about three weeks, he would be going to a school to become a shinobi, which was pretty exciting to him. Before, when he was told he was going to be going to the academy, he had been quite unenthusiastic at the thought of sitting in some classroom and being forced to learn math and such. But now that he knew he would be learning how to fight- not that he didn’t already know, but it would be interesting to learn another style- he decided that he couldn’t wait for the time to move faster. Gon had always been a free spirit, preferring to be outside instead of locked in a room. The medic-nin quickly found this out, and were immediately displeased. It became a game to him, something to fill his time and attune his senses even further. He would escape his room and head outside, avoiding those that felt like they had more energy- which he found out was the chakra flowing through them- and finding hiding places. To make it even harder, he tried to differentiate each person from another, learning how to tell people apart. It took a week before he started to be able to tell people apart without the use of his nen, just using his senses, examining the way that they walked, the little sounds they made unconsciously, and most importantly, the way they smelled. He had forgotten how amazing his sense of smell had been before the apocalypse in his world. Back then, he hadn’t wanted to smell anything, namely the rot and decaying flesh. But now that the air was clean once again, he relearned about the very very useful ability. Sound and scent were his two most useful abilities, since his sight was useless. When he found the training ground, he was overjoyed, excited to see if he can accurately hit things without vision. To say it was a big space was being extremely generous. It was a gated area, a couple trees in the corner, a place for target practice, and a pitiful weight training area. It made sense though, why it was so tiny; this was a place of healing, so they wanted to start their shinobi patients out small, letting them work up to handling the large training grounds when they’re healed. Gon though, with how weak he felt, was happy that they had a weight training place, and that he would be able to reach all the corners of the area without straining his healing body too much. He had always healed faster than most, but his body still wasn’t ready to handle his normal training. Luckily there was a table of weapons a good distance from the targets, because Gon didn’t know what else he was going to use to try to hit them. The kunnai was slightly dulled, but weighted enough to actually stick in things. Gon clicked his tongue, listening for where the target was, then poised his hand in the position he had learned so long ago, taking a deep breath, and flinging the kunnai forward. He felt like shouting celebrations when it hit the round board. It wasn’t in the center, but for a first try, he figured it was pretty damn good. He grabbed another kunnai, this time focusing on the weight and the feel of the metal, running his hands up and down the cold steel. After a moment of getting acquainted with the weapon and twirling it around, he threw it, this time getting much closer to to the center of the board. He spent an hour there, throwing different weapons, getting to the point that he could always hit the center. Before he could start practicing catching weapons from the air, the nurses found him and dragged him back to his room for his daily group therapy. The only interesting part of this part of his day was listening to the other people talk about their life experiences. Some of them killed too many people, some were heavily abused, and some just had mental disorders. It was different talking about his own life, because for one, he had to pretend like he hadn’t lived twenty plus years, and also, no one ever believed him. The hardest part though, was remembering the pain he had forced down when everyone he knew had died. It did help, in some weird, twisted way, even though the therapist always attempted to fix his ‘brainwashing’ problem instead of the fact that he had PTSD. “So then the world got taken over. First the Eclipse attacked the civilians, those that couldn’t protect themselves. They were gone in what we call the first wave. We call the things the Eclipse, not for any real reason, just that it sounded better than the other options. They were fast, and could fight. There was nowhere to hide, and they wouldn’t die unless you destroyed every part of the body. If you get bitten or die, then you’ll turn into one. The Eclipse were... horrifying. Glorified rotting corpses that had more power than you can imagine. There was no end to them. Their rot poisoned the air, killing off animals and stopping plant growth. The destruction from fighting them destroyed all buildings and trees, contaminating the water. Smog filled the air until the world was pitch black. A few of us held on, banded together, and made the most of it. But they all died out eventually, leaving me alone. Killua was the last to go... he was my best friend. We met years ago and did everything together... too bad we couldn’t die together. He died years ago, leaving me all alone, the last human to survive, until I found a way out. And now I’m here.” His throat hurt after all that, and he had stopped a few times to cough up a lung, but he got it all out. To save his sanity, he hadn’t gone into detail about everything, but even that amount hurt his heart. All he wanted to do was go back to the training ground and beat something up until he felt better, but the medic-nins strongly dissuaded burying his feelings. So after group therapy, he went back to his room and hid under a blanket, ignoring when a medic would come in to check his vitals and try to heal his body. Asuka was a really nice person, and a great teacher. She taught him about chakra, and how to access it. She had let it slip one day, that the Hyuuga clan, with their eyes, could see the chakra coils within someone, and if they hit the points where the chakra coils met with chakra enhanced hands, they could close them and seriously hurt the person. That got him thinking about how he could use his aura- his nen. There was Gyo, the focus of his nen around his eye area, used to see other people’s nen. One day, he tried it, despite the fact that he had the thick cloth around his eyes, he activated Gyo. Surprisingly it worked, to some extent at least. He was now able to see people’s chakra coils, but nothing else. It was kind of weird, watching congested colored lines in human shapes walk around. The civilians had a pale yellow, they were small and unadapted, but beautiful nonetheless. Genin, the lowest rank of shinobi, had thin, but strong, lines of blue. Chunin coils were a vibrant green, while jounins had thick, dark red coils. It wasn’t based on rank, but strength. Genin were usually the weaker of the shinobi, but he had seen a few blue-green coils, showing them as stronger than their peers. He only activated his Gyo occasionally, mostly when he was too lazy to use his senses- which came to him naturally, but he didn’t want to analyze them. With Gyo, he had found that he had yellow-blue chakra coils, which meant that he could use chakra, but he was super weak. “Asuka-sensei?” He asked as she walked into his room. “Can you teach me some jutsus? I want to get stronger.” She was silent for a moment. “Well, I can teach you the ones that the other students have already learned. You won't be expected to master them, of course, but it’s a good idea to learn them before you go.” With that, they went outside to the training ground, Gon acting like he had never been there before, since his teacher didn’t know that he was practicing. Asuka led him over to the trees where there was a small clearing. “We’re in the hospital training yard right now.” She clarified, “This first jutsu is called a henge. It’s the ability to use your chakra to transform into someone else for a moment. Now, this might be difficult for you, since you don’t know what people look like. But I’ll describe someone for you to change to. First, do this sign,” she positioned his hands correctly. “Now, imagine a man with green hair, and blue eyes. Do you have the picture?” Gon nodded, picturing a tall man with spiky green hair, several piercings, and dark blue eyes. In his mind, the man was wearing a tye dye shirt, and skin tight pants, with boots laced up to his knees. “This is the hard part,” Asuka continued, “you need to channel your chakra throughout your body, focusing on the image of the man, while also making each hand sign. It helps people focus to say the words, but it’s not needed. I’ll be right here, watching your chakra and telling you what you need to do differently. Alright, go ahead and try it.” Gon took a deep breath, and imagined the chakra in his coils growing brighter, moving outwards, and quickly transforming him into the man in his mind. There was a popping sound, and Gon suddenly felt taller. “Did it work?” He asked excitedly. “... well. I think you need a bit of practice.” Gon nodded, understanding that this, like hitting a target, wasn’t going to be perfect on the first try. “What do I look like?” Asuka was silent for a moment, “Really tall, skinny, green hair, blue eyes. You did well. But, um... the face... how do I say this. Everything is hair except for the eyes. Also, did you mean for him to have pink skin, and be naked?” Gon started laughing, nearly falling over with the force of it. His concentration broke and he faded back into himself just in time for him to fall onto the floor, weak from laughter. “Sorry about that,” he said, when he recovered, standing up. “It didn’t turn out as I had planned, but there’s time to try again. What did you notice in my chakra?” “Half way through your transformation, it fluctuated, rushing to your head instead of remaining even throughout your body. Another thing we need to work on when you get the transformation down, is going faster. That took two minutes from when you started gathering your chakra.” Gon nodded in consideration, thinking about how he could stop his chakra from fluctuating. “Why do you use hand signs? If your chakra is only travelling through the body, the hands do nothing.” “Good question,” Asuka praised, “the hands are used as a focus. The signs have power. By putting the majority of your chakra into your hands, the rest travelling through your body, for this jutsu at least, then it’s activating it, in a way. Think of it like a lake going into the ocean. The water is flowing everywhere, but most of it is going to the opening of the ocean. That is your hands. Try again.” He focused on the same image, this time, instead of forcing his chakra to do his bidding, he let it flow, like a river, growing more rapid until it flowed everywhere, pooling in his hands, but also overflowing until it reached every little part of his body. Then he transformed. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The time had finally come for him to become an eleven year old student at the academy for shinobi. Even though he had been fully healed a week ago, Asuka had him wait because the new term didn’t start until now. During that time, he had made his chakra go from yellow-blue to full electric blue, which was a great achievement to him, considering that chakra is a completely different concept than nen. Where nen is mainly outwards, and using your aura to create your ability, chakra is inside your body, forced outwards to create power. Chakra is considerably more exhausting as well, Gon had found. Of course, he had gotten to a point in his nen where he could use it all day and not get tired. He supposed that he would get to a point like that in chakra, but for the moment, it was completely exhausting. The day before, Asuka and Gon had visited the shopping district to get him clothes that weren’t his torn up attire he had arrived in, or the supposedly horrendous hospital garb. They went to several different clothing stores, Asuka letting Gon feel the clothes as she described them. Gon was fine with whatever, but as it turned out, Asuka was a fashionista, and wouldn’t let her ‘precious little student’ go to school in ugly clothes. There was an awkward moment after they had finished shopping, because now Gon was loaded down with bags of clothes, but he also had nowhere to go as he had been discharged from the hospital that very day. Asuka ended up inviting him to stay with her, as she lived alone and at the edge of the Hyuuga compound. So, within a day, Gon gained a new wardrobe and a home. For the moment at least. When he had woken up in the morning, on a blissfully comfortable bed, Asuka had spent an hour settling on a single outfit for him. According to her, and with the feel of the clothes, he was now wearing black, skin tight, yet stretchy long pants tucked into dark blue shinobi boots. His shirt was a soft mesh with a dark blue, high collared and sleeveless jacket left open. Asuka had even bought him a new black cloth to cover his eyes instead of the scratchy hospital rag he had stolen. And now he stood outside the academy after being led there by Asuka. He made a mental note to escape sometime and make a map of the entire town so he didn’t have to be taken everywhere. “I’ll take you to your classroom, and then I have to go. Pay attention and make lots of friends.” She sounded like she was going to cry. “I’ll come pick you up after school and we can go out to eat.” She suddenly went silent, which Gon knew meant she was getting too emotional. “Come on sensei, I don’t want to be late.” “Right,” her voice was a bit thick, so she cleared her throat. “Let’s go.” She placed her hand on his shoulder, which she normally didn’t bother to do, and lead him through the confusing hallways until they reached a semi-loud classroom. Some kids were talking to each other and goofing off while the teacher was trying to teach. Everyone went silent as the door opened, admitting Gon and Asuka. “Is this our new student?” Came the voice of the teacher. His clothes shifted as he crouched down to Gon’s current height. “I am Iruka-sensei. What’s your name?” “Gon,” he replied. “Alright Gon, you can go take a seat and we’ll get started.” Gon clicked his tongue in the direction of the students, finding a seat that was empty and walking towards it by the time Iruka noticed that he had just told a blind kid to find a seat without help. Gon collapsed into an empty seat and turned to the kid next to him. “Hey. I’m Gon.” “Sasuke.” Was the short reply. “Cool. Want to be my friend?” Sasuke was silent, as if considering. “No.” Well, it was worth a try. “Okay.” He turned in his seat to face forward, outwardly sitting still, but he was listening to every whispered conversations, learning his classmates and the little tics they had. At some point, he had activated his Gyo to look at the power levels. Mostly they were blue, or yellow-blue. There were a few blue-greens, like Sasuke. One of the kids had a fucking massive amount of chakra swimming through his coils, but it was a yellow-blue color, saying he had the potential to be powerful, but he wasn’t quite there yet. The schedule was as follows; theory, ninjutsu, and genjutsu in the morning, lunch, then practicing taijutsu outside until they go home. Today, Iruka taught them the theory behind the clone jutsu and then had them practice it. Gon did fairly well, mainly because he didn’t have to know what he looked like to do it. On his second try he had made a nearly perfect clone, just forgetting to give it a bit of chakra to get it moving, so he felt pretty proud of himself. Lunch was mostly boring. Gon didn’t eat, choosing instead to go around and look for a friend. He ended up just laying under a tree, thinking that friends were overrated anyway. Five minutes later, another person joined him. “Why do you wear that band around your head?” His voice was lazy, like he couldn't be bothered to hurry. “Because the light hurts, and I can’t see anything anyway.” “So you’re blind?” His voice gained a note of surprise. “Huh. I never would have guessed.” The two sat in silence for a moment, enjoying the light spring breeze. “Do you want to be my friend?” Gon figured he might as well ask. “Sure. Just don’t wake me up.” Gon could do that. And now he had a friend. “What’s your name?” “Shikamaru. Nice to meet you, Gon.” The class stayed outside after lunch, moving to the school’s training grounds. They ran through a couple katas, Gon activating his Gyo so he could watch the basic outline of the teacher as he did a few moves, and ensuring that he could copy them effectively. Taijutsu was completely different from all the fighting styles Gon had learned in the past. This was more fluid and relied heavily on mental fortitude as much as, if not more so than physical strength. Chakra wasn’t necessarily needed for taijutsu, which made it the go-to fighting style for shinobi. Basically it was an elegant form of hand-to-hand combat, built from repetition and building up stamina and speed. He had only ever learned how to fight with fists, going head-first into situations. Killua had forced into his head how to use weapons, but he couldn’t quite learn the martial arts of the Zoldyck family. Taijutsu was easy for him to learn. Perhaps because it flowed well with his new abilities, relying on senses to anticipate the opponent’s next moves. The katas weren’t too difficult either, and he already had the speed and the strength necessary to be good at it. Taijutsu was one field he could be proficient in even if he ended up failing miserably at the whole chakra thing. After several minutes of attacking the air with the designated moves, Iruka told them to find a partner and spar. Gon stood there, activating his Gyo so that he could find a strong opponent to battle. As it turned out, he didn’t have to try very hard, as one of the blue-green kids came to him. “Hello, do you want to be my partner?” The voice was female, and a bit squeaky, but sweet to listen to. She sounded a bit shy, but mostly like she was a little kid, younger than eleven. “Okay,” Gon agreed, “What’s your name? I’m Gon.” “I’m Kagura.” “Kagura,” the teacher called, “You’re going to have to put away your stuffed animal for this exercise.” There were a few snickers from the other children. “But Jupy helps me fight,” she complained. Silence reigned as the teacher considered for a few moments. “Alright, just this once,” Iruka said placatingly. Gon somehow knew that this had happened before, and this would not, actually, be the last time Kagura fought with her stuffed animal. “Get into the beginning position,” Gon stood, feet shoulder length apart and hands relaxed at his side. “Remember, this is a friendly spar, I don’t want serious injuries.” Gon half wondered how they could properly learn without injuries, after all, his training in his previous life had been filled with broken bones, bruises the size of his face, and muscles so sore he couldn’t move the next day. This was all a bit too slow for him, but he figured he could always practice on his own. “Begin,” Iruka shouted. Gon deactivated his Gyo as he bent down in the customary bow of respect. It wasn’t testing his abilities completely if he didn’t learn how to fight without his Gyo activated. He breathed in deeply, listening as Kagura’s clothes shifted lightly, the dirt sprinkling against the ground as she almost silently darted forward, leg swishing through the air, high enough to hit his head. He dodged at the last second, dancing out of the way, arms slightly extended in front of him as he twirled around her on light feet. A hand came next, aimed for his stomach, and almost too fast for him to dodge, but he had heard the quiet swoosh of her clothes against each other, the air molecules parting as her fist aimed forward. She made a small frustrated noise as each of her jabs were dodged, “Don’t just run away, that’s not very nice.” Kagura threw another kick, low to the floor with the intent to trip him, but he quickly flipped over her crouched body, hands lightly pressing down on her shoulders to give him a bit of a boost. Deciding to try something, on the last second before he completely lost contact with her body, he channeled a very small amount of chakra into his hands, releasing it as his fingertips left her skin. Just as his feet lightly touched the ground behind Kagura, she fell to the floor, a squeak of surprise echoing from her lips. “I apologize for not attacking you, I was practicing dodging. The real spar can begin now.” Gon stood there, listening as she breathed harshly, picking herself up off the floor. Half an ear was trained on the other students, interested in the sound of pounding skin against skin, as well as people flying through the air and landing harshly on the ground. Despite not knowing who was who, it was interesting for him to listen to the different fighting styles and who was better at what. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?” She was still trying to stand up, making Gon feel a little guilty about using so much force, but filing away the knowledge that releasing pure chakra could be a dangerous weapon. “Sure, what’s up?” She still sounded a bit cheerful, despite how annoyed she probably was. “How does- Jupy was it?- how does she help you fight?” Kagura giggled, “She makes me happy! And you can’t fight while sad, silly. That just makes you mess up!” She finally stood up, getting into position. “That’s fair,” Gon conceded. “I don’t have anything like that.” She giggled again, “Then think of something that makes you happy, and focus on that. Fight for something, and even if you lose, you will have fun.” Although the logic was a bit flawed, Gon could see the wisdom in what she was saying. “Think of something happy, huh?” He said mostly to himself, but she made a noise of confirmation. He thought through all of his memories, most of them making him feel a bit depressed, so he thought of the simple things. Like laughter, and the smell of nature, things he wanted to protect, and live to experience. “Okay,” he whispered, unconsciously smiling a little, “Let’s try again.” This time Gon striked first, shifting forward at a speed he thought he had lost, fist flying in front of him. Kagura squeaked and dashed out of the way, Gon feeling the fabric of her shirt brush his knuckles. He used the force of the punch to go into a twirling handstand and kick his legs outwards, this time catching her right in the stomach. The breath left her in an audible whoosh, the force of the kick sending her back a few meters and knocking her off her feet. Gon winced guiltily. He had reigned in about ninety percent of his strength, but apparently he was still too strong, even without going through his usual intense training. “I am so sorry,” he said, rushing over to where Kagura was laying on the ground and coughing every other breath, “I didn’t mean to hit that hard.” Gon helped her sit up, resting a hand on her back, and rubbing up and down, listening as the teacher ran over. “What happened?” Iruka asked urgently, kneeling down to their level and presumably checking over Kagura. “I accidentally used too much force in my kick.” Gon explained glumly, knowing he would probably get in trouble. It was his first day, and he already couldn’t function as a normal human being. The other students’ sparing had stopped, the children gathering around Kagura, watching. Some were whispering among each other, accusing Gon for hurting Kagura, the nice, cute kid that everyone loves. Gon sighed silently, knowing that he was now an outcast. Maybe Shikamaru would decide that he didn’t want to be Gon’s friend anymore. “It’s okay,” Iruka cut in, “She just got the wind knocked out of her. No serious injuries.” It was said as an attempt to lighten the mood, but fell a bit flat, everyone hearing the obvious concern in his voice. They all stood there awkwardly as Iruka asked Kagura if she was okay, or if she wanted to sit out for a bit. She decided to recover on the sidelines, so the teacher told all the students to get back to practicing until school was over. Gon, now partnerless, sat down next to Kagura on the hard ground. “I really am sorry,” Gon tried again. Kagura shifted towards him, “There hasn’t really been time for me to work on my strength yet, so I overreacted.” Kagura made a small noncommittal noise, “It’s okay. I’m going to be fighting super strong people soon anyway. It just makes me mad that just one kick and I’m already out.” She sighed, shifting around. “I’m the only shinobi in my family, and they all want me to be strong, but I get knocked out from a single kick.” Gon nodded, not really sure what to say. She sighed again and rested her head on Gon’s shoulder, surprising him. “You’re really strong. We should train together some more.” She sounded considerably more chipper now as she nuzzled her head into his neck. “You’re my best friend.” Gon’s eyebrows rose for a moment, but eventually smiled, relaxing into the girl next to him. “Do you want to hold Jupy?” Kagura asked, not waiting for his answer before shoving the plush into his hands. He held onto the squishy toy, rubbing his hands along the incredibly soft fabric, tracing the shape of it. His hands ran down the length of its body, feeling the fluffy tail, chubby legs, and soft ears. “Is this a rabbit?” He asked quietly. Kagura was silent for a moment, then softly, she wrapped her arms around him, “Yes. She’s white with black spots, green eyes, and floppy grey ears.” Gon smiled happily, cuddling into both Kagura’s arms and the silky fur of the rabbit Jupy. He had forgotten what it felt like to be held, but this moment was one he never wanted to forget.
10639026	A Couple a Knuckleheads	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": null, "Characters": "Eudes \| Owain, Brady (Fire Emblem), Liz \| Lissa, Maribelle (Fire Emblem)", "Fandom": "Fire Emblem: Kakusei \| Fire Emblem: Awakening", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by GaHoolianGirl", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-16T00:00:00", "words": "1,507", "Additional Tags": "Fluff, Dorks in Love, First Love, Matchmaking, (of the funny kind), supportive parents, Love Confessions, Getting Together, Childhood Friends, Mutual Pining", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Brady/Eudes \| Owain, Past Lissa/Maribelle", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "No Archive Warnings Apply, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Categories": "F/F, Gen, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Owain quickly glanced over his shoulder, making sure no one noticed him watering the small flower by the side of the road. Seeing the coast was clear, he turned his back and tended to the tiny plant. Despite his precautions, however, he failed to hear the light footsteps coming from behind."Owain, dear? What are you doing on the ground? Are you alright?" she called. Owain jumped, and turned to see Maribelle standing over him, a concerned expression on her flawlessly made-up face. He could do nothing but gawk at her, little tin of water hand."A-Ah! Aunt Maribelle! I...Uh...”After taking a good moment to take in the scene before her, Maribelle smiled pleasantly at the boy on the ground. “I see you’ve taken an interest in my and my son’s floral companion. What brought this on?”Owain’s face turned a bright shade of pink, and, for all his usual theatrics, he was at a loss for words. He just looked at the ground, and poured the rest of the water of the small flower.“Owain?” Maribelle asked, voice going up in pitch and concern.“Uh, n-no particular reason. I just felt... like it... because it would make him smil-” His flush deepened and he stammered, “b-b-because it seemed the r-righteous thing to do!”He should have known that the woman who had been like a second mother to him would catch on to his lie rather quickly. She kneeled down next to him, careful to keep her expensive clothing from touching the dirt.“To see him smile, you say?”He sighed, placing the tin down, “Yes...”“I was unaware you had such feelings for my son.”“I hope that’s okay-!”“It’s fine, dear! As a matter of fact, your mother and I were actually were in such a relationship before our respective marriages.”“WHAT!?” Brady yelped in pain as he pricked himself on the edge of the blade he was sharpening. He put his thumb in his mouth as a quick way to stop the bleeding, but his tears already started to flow. If I can’t even do this for him, what can I do... “Brady? What are you doing in the armory?”“Aunt L-Lissa!”He dropped the blade, which hit the floor with a clang . Lissa leaned over in curiosity, examining the name inscribed in the handle. “ Sword of Elegant Cutting ? This is Owain’s sword, Brady!”“Yeah, it is. What of it?” he replied with his usual pout, snatching the blade off the ground (careful not to cut himself again), “Can’t a guy sharpen his pal’s blade?”A wave of imagery that he did not need standing next to Owain’s mother came flashing into his mind, and he turned deep red. Lissa giggled at the sight.“I didn’t say that~.”“Ya.. ya don't think it's weird? We grew up together and stuff-”“Why would it be? Me and Maribelle were a thing before I married Vaike!”“HUH!?” The next time Maribelle and Lissa met for tea, their topic of discussion was easily apparent to them both."Lissa, darling, how have you been? How are the oaf and Owain doing?"Lissa took a hearty swig on her tea to wash down the cookies (snacks courtesy of Maribelle's husband, the resident sweet expert) she had just devoured "Oh, they're great! What about you? If these snacks say anything, Gaius is fine. How's Brady?"Maribelle let out a dignified titter, "Brady is fine, but now that you mention it... has Owain been talking about him at all recently?"Lissa perked up. "As a matter of fact, I know exactly why you're asking about that," she leaned in closer, as if she was about to share some sort of gossip. "I caught Brady in the armory the other day, polishing Owain's sword- his actual WEAPON THANK YOU VERY MUCH," the noblewoman looked scandalized and cleared her throat, nodding for Lissa to continue.,"Anyway, it seems he's taken quite an interest in your boy!“That's wonderful! I found Owain tending to a flower Brady's been caring for last week! Oh, he got so flustered when he realized I was there. Our sons appear to be in love,” Maribelle responded, finally taking another sip of the now-cool brew.“Uh huh,” Lissa said, shoving another scone into her mouth. "You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"“Are we going to assist in bringing them together?”"Yup." Mother and Maribelle..." Owain played the thought over and over in his mind, unsure whether to feel encouraged or frightened. Mo ther and Maribelle...Mother and Maribelle...Me and Brady-NO! BRAIN, I DEMAND YOU CEASE YOUR JAPERY! Owain smacked the side of his head with the hilt of his sword (which was looking extra shiny lately). Those thoughts were ones that he was not supposed to be having about his dear childhood friend. Brady was raised by his side, almost as a brother. But ever since Maribelle had told him how his mother and she had been together, yes like that , before his father came into the picture, he'd had a heightened sense of hope for something more.He was actually on his way to meet his mother in the barracks now. “I have something to show you dear~” had she told him, giggling rather suspiciously. However, when he got there, he didn’t see his mother, or anyone else for that matter. All he saw was...wait, was someone in there? That hunched over form was familiar...“Who goes there--- Brady!? ”He was greeted by a pair of teary eyes, equally shocked to see him. Brady furiously wiped them away, “Owain, this ain't-”“You’re... crying. What happened this time?” He kneeled down to his level, and helped wipe his tears away with his thumb. Brady felt a blush stain his cheeks, and he turned away.“W-Where’s Ma’?” he asked, trying to change the subject.“I dunno. My mother said to meet her here.”“So did Ma’!”Both boys looked at one another in silence, recalling what their mothers told them. The seemed to realzie the situation at the same time- Their mothers had arranged this whole thing! If Ma’ did it, so can I... My mother did it... and as a hero is destined to follow his his ancestors' footsteps... “Brady!”The healer started at the sound of Owain's shout, “Wha!?” “I...I like you!” "W-Well course ya' do. We've a-always...been together."The swordsman took the healer's hands in his own, and stared into Brady's eyes, his own gaze burning passionately, "Fair Brady, I do not mean as a comrade or as a brother! I mean as my partner in life! A companion!” he quieted, looking sheepish, “...be my boyfriend?”He was initially answered with silence, and Owain was about to accept his rejection, but the look of shock of Brady’s face transformed into elation (his eyes were no less filled with tears than before however).“Jeez, ‘ya took the words out of my damn mouth,” he grumbled, but his smile couldn't be denied, and his tone was shy when he spoke again, “Of course.”“Really!? I expected that to be way harder...”“Why?”Owain scratched the back of his head, “We grew up together, so I wasn't sure if you saw me as a brother or something.”“Nah, I always kinda liked ya’, actually, but I thought you saw me as a little brother.”They met each other's gaze, before bursting out into shared giggles.“Man, aren’t we a couple ‘a knuckleheads?” Brady said once regained his breath. Owain nodded, wiping his eye.“The most glorious of fools!”Owain grinned at him brightly, making Brady’s heart clench. In a bold move, he reached down to grab the swordsman’s hand, looking away with flushed cheeks. Owain blushed as well, but returned the grip.“Ya’ know...I thought this was gonna be a lot harder. Like I’d be more embarrassed. But right now I’m just happy. ““My sentiments exactly, my destined companion.”“Maybe it was knowing Ma’ and Aunt Lissa went through all this nonsense together too...” Brady mused. Owain released his hand so he could hold Brady’s cheeks.“That doesn't matter. I'm just happy I finally get to do this...”“Wha’ mmph !”Their lips came together in the most gentle of kisses. Neither boy had any experience to speak of, but the act still made them both feel warm, inside and out.“We should...” Brady began, barely distancing himself from Owain’s lips, “Tell Ma’ and Aunt Lissa the good news...”“Later,” Owain dismissed, kissing him again."I told you this plan would work!” Lissa whispered triumphantly to Maribelle. They both had their ears pressed up against the door, listening to their sons confessing their mutual love.“I'm sorry for doubting you, dear,” she conceded, “Now that they have both come to their senses, why don't we contemplate the best way to tease them over some tea?”Lissa nodded, looping her arm through Maribelle’s, looking back once more to smile at the door concealing the happy new couple, “Only if we get more of Gaius’ sweets!”•
10690182	Metallic Deceivers From	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mycroft Holmes", "Fandom": "Sherlock (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by ImpossibleElement", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-21T00:00:00", "words": "1,434", "Additional Tags": "Stand Alone, First Meetings, First Kiss, Aliens, space ship, John is Perfect, Sherlock is an alien, Johnlock Roulette", "Relationship": "Sherlock Holmes/John Watson", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Hesitant Alien Series", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Metallic Deceivers From A Planet Far Away Sherlock picked up another item from the desk in John's bedroom, and was turning it this way and that. Clearly studying it. The blond sighed as he watched the alien go though every little thing on his room again and ask questions that not even John could answer. Anyway, who really knew exactly how memory sticks really stored data besides something about 1s and 0s? He understood it was all so very fascinating for his space friend, to find out how another species lived, but it made the blonde a bit nervous when the other asked something he didn’t know how to explain. He was very fond of the curious expression Sherlock wore when he was analysing something —even if that something was sometimes John himself and his secrets, one time even his pants— but he wasn’t equally fond of the disappointed look he got every time he failed at satisfying his thirst for knowledge.He had met the boy three months ago. A midnight with crisp air and blinding lights coming through his bedroom window. He heard a loud crash and ran outside to see a wrecked sort of machine and, in the middle of the rubble, a boy. He couldn’t be more than twenty and was covered in scraps and dirt. John approached him quickly, and carried him inside. He was a bit taken aback by the blueish colour of his curly locks and body hair. John nursed him back to health, always hoping that the boy wouldn’t wake up when the flat was empty and he was at one of his classes.Once he had woken up, one saturday afternoon, it had been a very interesting day. They both were alarmed in very different ways. John freaked out when he realised he was actually housing a person from another planet. Sherlock looked more surprised at having crashed his ship than he did at landing on a different world. After they had both calmed, the alien started inspecting his surroundings and John could not take his eyes off the form. Not only was he a different specimen, but bloody hell! God help the universe if his whole species looked like that.Thankfully, Sherlock was the most brilliant person John had met and learned the language in under three days. The blonde had no idea how he had achieved that, but it had involved a complete all-nighter at the laptop —which the younger boy had taught himself to use— and more than daily sessions of seven straight hours of morning telly. John knew that aside from the fact that he felt he was living out a science fiction movie, reality had to come some day, and it knocked on their door two days after the boy had crashed his spaceship, in the form of his landlady, Mrs. Hudson. Asking why he hadn’t let her know he was looking for a flatmate. The aspiring-doctor realised that Sherlock was stranded on Earth until they could find a way to fix his transport, and was now basically homeless.Of course, he would never turn him away, so John decided to let him stay with him until they could somehow find the solution. It had been two and a half months since that and John would be lying if he said he didn’t like their new arrangement. Sherlock payed a portion of the expenses they had by solving difficult math problems on the internet, and the blonde was ashamed to admit he had hidden several parts of the alien’s ship so he would never have to go. It was foolish, and childish, and just asking for disaster, but he couldn’t help but fall in love with the indigo-haired boy. He guessed it spoke a lot about his auto-destructive nature that he decided to choose an alien that someday would have to return to his home planet light-years away, as the person in which to place his trust, his time and his affection. It would never work out in the end.Sherlock stopped his studying of the object and turned to smile at John. “This is highly enthralling.” He said, in that posh and elaborate language he had adopted, John failed to understand how one can catch such a vocabulary watching crap-telly.“It’s just a picture of me. When I was eleven.” John commented, and the mercurial eyes of the alien rolled in a way which displayed a silent ‘obviously’. John shrugged. “I don’t see what’s so interesting.”“You.” The other said cryptically, and John had come to get used to that. Sherlock either spoke in terribly long and ridiculously difficult sentences, or in phrases of one or two words that never explained anything at all.“Oh, thank you.” The blonde said, not really knowing how to respond to something he was not sure he quite understood. “I think you are interesting, too.” He added lamely. The other looked at him shocked. Like the best thing had just happened and John cursed the small ball of hope and affection that was growing within him.Disaster finally stroke one night when John saw the same lights as that fateful time pass outside his window. The human’s only thought was that Sherlock had somehow repaired his ship and was going away, without even saying goodbye. He rushed out the door just like that first time, except this time in fear instead of curiosity.He found what he didn’t expect. Instead of one alien short, now he apparently had one alien too many. Sherlock was fighting in his own native language with what appeared to be his father? Older brother? And he was clearly very upset. The boy had told John the story on why he had escaped home to get out from under his big brother’s thumb. Apparently, two galaxies were not far away enough to make him stop trying, however. Not that he could blame him, he himself had been sabotaging Sherlock’s departure for weeks.Several minutes later the taller figure came to lock his gaze on John and started walking in his direction. Once he arrived and gave him a once over, he said. “Take good care of my little brother.” In perfect english.John nodded and said. “I will.” Not really knowing what he was promising. Shortly after that, the alien turned around. He got into his perfectly functioning transport, the lights came on again, and then he was gone. Leaving Sherlock with him.“What the hell just happened?” John asked, not sure if he was going to pass out or freak out. Or both. Sherlock just stared at him, as if he could just calm him down by sheer willpower. Clearly exasperated at his friend’s lack of grasp on the situation.Once the doctor was more or less alright, Sherlock spoke. “Do you not posses a tradition in which the head of the family transfers one family member to someone for safe-keeping?” He asked nonchalantly. As if it were the most normal thing in the universe.“He gave me your hand in marriage!?” John was hyperventilating now. He shouldn’t really be surprised his life had turned out so ridiculous. How could it not? He had an alien for a flatmate, for God’s sake!“Marriage! That’s the word!” The other exclaimed, probably pulling the word and its meaning out from their storage in his Mind Palace. “That’s exactly what this is!” He explained, clearly elated with the developments. John guessed he got his wish of Sherlock staying, and then some. But he won’t be complaining, he had agreed. After, all.John smiled at the alien and kissed him. They had basically just married, he was allowed to snog his space husband, and boy if that sentence wasn’t just the most insane thing he had heard. After they parted, the both of them kept watching the stars above them, one in amazement and the other in recognition.After a brief moment, Sherlock spoke up. “Oh, and you owe my brother a dozen heads of your livestock.” He said, as if he had just remembered that tiny detail. A very important detail that let John know that more than marrying him, he had basically just bought Sherlock instead. John couldn’t help it. He started laughing, full belly laugh that you can’t even control. Sherlock, sensing the laugh came from mirth and not mock, started giggling too until they were both on the floor, tangled up in each other just smiling. John would worry about his apparent debt later, right now he had much more important things in which to spend his time.
10670550	pissy	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "Other", "Characters": "Purple Man (Five Nights at Freddy's), Purple Man, Reader", "Fandom": "Five Nights at Freddy's", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by edgykid (orphan_account)", "chapters": "2/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-19T00:00:00", "words": "938", "Additional Tags": "Omorashi, Swearing, Eventual Smut, scared reader, reader is so scared at one point they piss themselves but not in the first chapter lol, Watersports, Dubious Consent, does touching of the genitals count as smut because thats the only smutty stuff that happens", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Purple Man (Five Nights at Freddy's)/Reader, Purple Man (Five Nights at Freddy's)/You", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Fuck. Fuck. He's fucking pulling this shit again.Tonight, at your part time job, your extremely shitty coworker decided to play a little prank on you, a prank which involved you being locked inside a room when you had to go to the bathroom extremely badly.He looked at you through the window to the office, on the outside looking in, smiling widely. Sadistic fuck. He watched you squirm in you seat as you concentrated on looking and flipping through the cameras for the animatronics, or rather focus on anything else besides the growing anticipation between your legs. You fidgeted in your seat and backed away from the monitor a bit, and glared out the window at the purple man, his shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. With the doors shut tight and cutting off your access to the bathrooms, you had no way of relieving yourself, because god knows you weren't going to go to the back of the office and squat n' piss, cause that's gross as hell."Vincent! I swear to god, I am going to cut your dick off and shove it up your own ass! Open the doors so I can fucking piss!"You could hear his deep, muffled laughter as he moved away from his spot pressed up against the window. You could no longer see him, as everything beyond the window was shrouded in darkness.You fidgeted quickly in your seat, your bladder nearing bursting point. Fuck, it was bad idea to hold it in beforehand when you had a chance to pee. You made a quick, kind of angry glance at the screen displaying the cameras before turning back to looking at the window to see if he had made his reappearance, when something made you double-take.The battery was almost out.You shot up out of your seat, and ran as quickly as you could with a full bladder over to the door nearest to the window he was at before, and started frantically pressing at the button to open the door, but to no avail. You could still feel how full you were, but that was the least of your concerns when fucking killer animatronics were right around the corner, waiting for their next midnight snack. You started slamming on the door with your fists."Vincent! Open the fucking doors, the power is going to run out any second now! I don't want those fucking animatronics anywhere near me! VINCENT!"You looked back one more time to see the battery icon flashing red, before everything went dark. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The doors open fast as shit and you are scared as piss from the sudden movement, but this does not stop them from trying to solve the problem at hand and being mad at Vincent. As soon as your eyes adjust to the darkness, you run around trying to fix the problem best you can, flipping switches and such, and finding a flashlight. Though, since you are still bursting at the seams here with piss, you eventually conclude that you cannot focus on fixing this with this full of a bladder, and decide, "Hey, fuck it, I need to go to the bathroom to fix this, and I'm not being a gross fuck today, so no corner peeing for me." Though you seemed confident, you're not even sure if they can make it to the bathroom without wetting your damn pants. You step out into the hallway, still fucking fuming by the way at Vincent for the shit he's done thus far tonight, and you start to quickly walk to the bathroom, flashlight lit in hand, best you can without springing a leak. As you are walking, a hand comes from behind them and clamps itself over your mouth and left arm and, quite roughly, pulls you close to their body. You drop the flashlight out of shock. You are frozen in fear, or You were until... Oh. OH NO. You feel the hot piss run down your leg and soak through the uniform pants they gave you for the job. It's embarrassing, but you could honestly care less about pissing your pants right now when you think that you're going to fucking die. That is, until a very familiar, deep voice whispers whispers in their ear: "Aw, man, that's so cute." Posthaste, your fear turns to anger snap like that, and you immediately elbow the thing, whom is Vincent, in the in the fucking ribs with the arm he's not holding. The other one is still locked in place with his (surprisingly) iron grip, until he lets go, presumably from the elbow he just caught in the side of the ribs. He stumbles backwards, still smiling, if wincing a little, and holding the right side of his ribs and he coughs. You turn around so quickly it could give a lesser man whiplash, eyes hot and angry like a motherfucker. Your eyes have adjusted to the darkness now so you can see the tall glass of grape juice that they are about to fucking kill just fine."You. Piece. Of. Shit.""H-hey, now-""First you jeopardize my income, my job, and then you make me fuckin'!-" you motion to their sopping wet crotch, your face both red with anger and embarrassment. You stand up straight, inhale, and gather your senses. You walk up to Vincent, and bitch-slap him right across the face. Poor bastard. Didn't even see it coming, you almost feel bad for him. He's stunned, yeah, because ow, but he's stunned even more so when you grab his chin and more or less force kiss him hard.
10640817	waterfalls and	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Jughead Jones, Archie Andrews", "Fandom": "Riverdale (TV 2017)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by decayinghorizon", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-16T00:00:00", "words": "2,083", "Additional Tags": "Angst, Character Study, Implied Relationships", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Archie Andrews/Jughead Jones, Archie Andrews & Jughead Jones", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Gen, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	-j-it's his story, but it's not. he narrates, but as an omniscient being, a phantom, the illusion of a god. in this story, he's not quite a human being; he's an observer, a novel detective, the concept of a writer, one of the incomparable greats. it's a far stretch from the truth, which is how he likes it, putting himself on a pedestal he could never reach in his real life. this novel isn't his tell-all, it's not about his pain or his tragedy, his sad reality. it's about a different broken boy, one who could've had more of a chance than him. it's his escape, because he's still here. he has the opportunity to live and breathe and enjoy his life, but he sits in a corner alone and writes about a dead boy. this is how he'll always be, alone and abandoned in a world that's not for him, looking in on lives he could never hope to have. he imagines himself whole, who he would be if he had never been broken or even cracked, maybe if all the cracks just grew back stronger like a bone fracture held tight together with plaster and glue. it won't ever be who he is.he's fragile, no matter what he pretends. every rock thrown breaks glass and sinks to the dark ocean depths of his stomach, and everything he never says is a message in a bottle lost at sea. no one would willingly brave his rocky shores, and his rough waters wreck ships before they ever have the chance to sail. he's a white flag waving in the blurry distance, a surrender with a skull and crossbones, giving up, collecting ghosts like gold, digging up bones like buried treasure. he's his own dark cave, hiding deep inside himself, his thoughts slippery stalactites that drip hopelessness and ooze doubt, stalagmites at his feet anchoring memories he'd rather forget, together trapping him in the sharp jaws of his own misery. at times, it feels like he's haunting himself, his mind projecting holograms of who he used to be; shallow, idealized versions of his 10 year old self running incorporeal through caverns and suffocating twisting tunnels with no regard for claustrophobia, and always, always, with Archie chasing after, their hollow ringing laughter mingling and echoing off of the towering walls he's built to hold himself in, and he's tightening the rope he tied around his waist to keep himself together, to lead him back out of the mythological maze he's made and lost himself in, to stop from feeding himself to the monster he'll find at the end.in his nightmares, he always finds himself underwater, with salt burning his open eyes and the back of his throat as he breathes in through his nose, sinking under his skin to sting the undersides of his palms shining eerily pale in the murky water. he doesnt scream, just watches seaweed sway with the tides and lets the salt water leaking from his eyes become one with the sea, feeling proud to be a part of something. he's serene, calmly sinking; unlike Jason Blossom, he won't let the currents carry him away. when he writes, he can never get his ends to connect or his punctuation quite right, always missing an ellipses, confusing colons and commas, never knowing the right time to exclaim, to diverge or reclaim plot lines, to explain himself while rearranging everyone else, to estrange himself while he pieces them all together. he wants to tear himself out of the narration, crumple freshly printed pages and slash X's across new notebooks, smash an inkwell and hide his words underneath its viscous black veil, become invisible under typewriter correction tape, hit his backspace key until he ceases to exist. he wants to burn it all and start from scratch, rewrite, relive. never relearn, keep making the same mistakes, keep hating them and himself and never, ever change.it's not his story, and that's for the best, because if it was he'd rip himself to shreds.-a-he needs to hold the world on his shoulders. he needs to own up to his mistakes, because all of them are such heavy burdens. he's a burden. on his father who does everything (too much) for him, on his friends who deserve better, his newly ex girlfriend who is worth so much more than he could give. he always manages to mess things up, to break everything he touches, no matter how good his intentions tend to be. he's solid, brave when he needs to be but he's so, so fragile. he's vulnerable and breakable and nobody can know because they all have better things to worry about, he doesn't want to put his problems on them, to bother them, to become a weight on their shoulders and weigh and break them down when he should be able to handle things on his own. he should be, but he's weak and he's stupid and everything always falls apart, the earth crumbles beneath his feet and he's always diving off cliffs and onto ledges too precarious to hold him and they'll always break, too, he'll break them with the weight of his mistakes like he drags down everything and everyone else, and he can't escape the cycle because he can't escape himself, or his brain that angers and speaks too quickly and feels emotions too deeply and suddenly to figure them out before he does damage he can't fix, before he can put eraser to paper and rub out the wrongs. before it's too late to try, and he streaks black across the page with that eraser worn down from years of missteps and misspellings and evidence of an entire life lived wrong, and when he tries to fix it he rips holes and leaves it hopeless and mangled. he tips the scales out of balance, always out of balance, and he can never get it right, get anything right. everything he does hurts someone, makes things difficult, his help does nothing but make everything worse. he tries, but he doesn't know why anymore, why he thinks any next time will be different, that he'll suddenly understand and be able to fix the things that have made him fuck up all his life, that he can suddenly break the curse, find this fatal flaw that makes him a failure. he'll never be enough for himself or for anyone else, and he spells it out with fists in punching bags, with badly written sheet music and stage fright too big to overcome without the friends who give him too much. he throws himself into reckless situations, into fights to protect people who mean more than him, to get battered and be bruised like maybe he deserves. to feel something that isn't worthlessness or failure, to feel tangible pain instead of the frustrating emotion he can't articulate, can never describe in the right way, or with the right depth. it's always coming out shallow and useless, pop song feelings for radio hits, one note and bland on his acoustic guitar, sounding perfect on recording but echoing back out of tune. always this discord between perception and real life. because on paper, he's perfect. he's a varsity football player and a musician and he's never without people to love, without girls who want him. he's got a supportive dad and a good, stable life, roots in the ground of a small, cozy town that used to be unshakable. but there's that gunshot, and Jason Blossom, and the teacher and her earthquake, the aftershocks she left behind, the panic attacks and the guilt and the empty feeling of being used. the way he sees his best friend drowning and can't stop it, not really. he keeps pulling Jughead above water just long enough for him to catch his breath before he's dragged back down like there's an anchor tied tight to his ankle and archie can't hold his breath long enough to cut him free, can't dive deep enough to see where they'll end up. another failure in his neverending timeline of them, another impossible situation that he could maybe solve if he was anyone but himself. for now, he just treads water, keeps pulling, and waits until they're rescued or they both sink.he plucks guitar strings while Jughead's out, pieces together songs for him that he'll never hear, songs for himself that he doesn't want to hear, words that he has to say and face. he's got pages and pages of paper ripped to shreds because the words were about her, so many words wasted on Her, so many feelings that he should never have felt that've carved a hollow cavern in his chest, deep catacombs empty and terrifying in the dark of his room at night, reasons he can't sleep as well as he used to. he tries to explore them, sometimes, but all his secrets and mistakes bounce off every wall and back to him, reverberate through him at decibels that feel unsafe, intensity that he's afraid to face, that he knows will cut through him and drop him to his knees, reduce him to sobs and shakes and he doesn't want to be that, doesn't want his weakness to show on the outside, too.sometimes he snaps pencils with the force of his words, lead puncturing holes in all his notebooks and dragging broken emotion with it, fragments of thought that never fit together just right, chords written in the wrong tuning. always something off, something only he can hear in every song that he plays back a hundred times and that leave him with no more answers than he began with. he tries to untangle himself only to end up more twisted than before, hopeless mazes full of dead ends.sometimes his strings snap and leave welts across his hands, and his shaking fingers can't find the dexterity to restring and start over, and he gives up like he's never wanted to give up, to reveal how lost he really is, how broken. he's always hiding in a sunlight glare, so bright that no one ever looks directly at him, not really. he's all angles and refraction, diverting attention away from himself by letting everyone see what they want from him, surface level happiness to hide the storm inside.and when the facade is gone, when the sun hides behind clouds and leaves him open in the gray light of day, he has nothing left.-j & a-they fit together in a strange sort of way, pieces from different puzzle boxes that weren't made to connect, their pictures never matching, their opposite edges clashing when they meet. but they always readjust, eventually, accommodate their differences and swap out the conflicting pieces for more comfortable fits, fall apart and back together when the trouble starts. now they're drowning, and everything's crumbling around them, but they're keeping each other level, they're holding their heads above water and holding their breaths when they can't stay afloat. they're chasing each other through hollow caves with hands twined and whispering secrets in the endless dark, barely audible above the steady rush of water eroding stone.they don't quite understand each other, shouldn't, weren't meant to, but they trust one another, even after everything. they broke, but all their shards were salvageable, windows turned to red and blue stained glass and arranged into new masterpieces. they write, about themselves and one another and the ways they see the world in ink and guitar tabs, lyrics and narratives. they're barely concealed storms waiting on different horizons, and they're waiting for each other to need them, to hold tight and calm their pouring rain. they mess up in expected ways, and fight and lie and make choices that push them apart, that drift them back out to sea toward opposite shores and strand them in open water. but the currents always bring them back with apologies and air thick with salt and remorse, their fault lines stitching themselves back together, converging plates shifting back to their rightful places underground.when they're together, the earth still shakes, but in gentler tremors that can't knock them down, and their mistakes still matter but the mazes have exits and monsters don't exist, knots are temporary constructions and their memories don't have the power to destroy them. they find solace in each other, comfort in clinging to life preservers, and hope that one day they'll be okay.
10632906	Punishment and Reward	{ "Archive Warning": "Underage Sex", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Eren Yeager", "Fandom": "Shingeki no Kyojin \| Attack on Titan", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by shades_0f_cool", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-15T00:00:00", "words": "3,747", "Additional Tags": "Punishment, foot play, Sex Toys, Rough Sex, Anal Sex, Shameless Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Dirty Talk, Feels, a touch of fluff, First Love, First Kiss, Top Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Bottom Eren Yeager, Canon Universe, Riding Crops, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Canon ages, Dom/sub", "Relationship": "Levi/Eren Yeager", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“What the fuck, Eren?” With a single shove of his wrists, Captain Levi pushed me back against the wall of his room. The impact knocked the breath right out of my lungs, and even though he hadn’t risen his tone in the slightest, his insistent reprimand made my ears ring with an uncomfortable tingle. He breathed heavily, which was nothing compared to the pants that were ripped from my chest by his bout of man-handling. “Why? I just did what was needed to be done. I couldn’t just let our backup get snatched one by one by that abnormal, could I?” My tenacious argument left my lips on a whoosh of air in a vain attempt to reason with him. But his furious expression told me that no amount of reasoning would be enough to stop the storm he was about to unleash on me. “You disobeyed a direct order from your superior, Eren. From me as your Captain. You jeopardized the whole mission in your reckless attempt to save a few members of the reinforcement team. You risked much more than just your own life; but your fucking brain is too slow to get that, isn’t it?” Every syllable he spat at me was dripping with rage at my disobedience. The ever-present desire to please him, to make him regard me as a valuable soldier of his squad flared up inside me and made my nerve endings tingle with the need to make him see my point. Even if he was right, I was not going to back down now. I'd saved those soldiers' lives, and even if it had been reckless and impulsive, we'd been able to return to the Walls with more men than we would have if I hadn’t stepped in. “Captain, please. Can I just—” I approached him in an impulsive try to calm him with my proximity, but his hands shot up before I could follow their way with my eyes and he used them to give me another rough shove. This time, I stayed pressed up to the wall, not wanting to catch another one of his blows. “No, you fucking can’t. What you’ll do now is shut the fuck up and listen to your superior for once.” He shot forward and grabbed my shirt, pulling me close enough to make our chests meet. I tried fervently to fight down the hot wave of arousal that surged through me whenever I felt the tiniest bit of his body on my own, willing it away in favor to keep the cool head this heated situation required. “If you can’t even listen to your Captain, you’re not a soldier. You are nothing, just as stupid as the titans we encounter on a regular basis. The reason you’re standing here right now is because I pulled your sorry ass from the fucking mess you brought yourself in.” “I know, but Captain—” The harsh slap he administered on my face shut me right up. My lip split with the force he used to make me obey; my cheek burning with the sting of his palm. “I told you to shut the fuck up, didn’t I?” Leaning in as fast at lightning, he grabbed my shirt in his small fists and dragged me across the room. I stumbled after his him, begging him to release me, but he didn’t give a damn about my wishes. Not anymore. I had angered him to the point of no return, and I knew that if there was anything that would put me up for a sound punishment faster than I could blink, it was disobedience. When he reached his four-poster bed, he pushed me down on the mattress. I bounced twice before I came to a standstill, my injuries from earlier throbbing in protest. Even though I tried to fight it, Levi’s scent, which clung to the sheets and pillows beneath my trembling body, filled my nose and clouded my senses in an instant. I released a strangled moan, but not because the force he used with me made my injured body scream with pain. It was solely because I was laying exactly where he had pounded into my ass like there was no tomorrow just a few short hours ago, before we left for our expedition. He rounded the bed and lifted one of his beautifully shaped legs up on my chest before he huffed with a vicious curse on his lips. “What do you get for not listening to your Captain, Eren?” I looked up at him from my submissive position on the bed, momentarily entranced by the imposing power he emitted. Being short did nothing to diminish the striking authority that made armies bend to his will. He was a force of nature, a predator ready to devour his prey until there was nothing left. And fuck, did I want to be devoured by him. I wanted to be tamed with everything he had to give me, with every last punishment he put my body through. Against my will, I felt my cock grow hard with anticipation. I knew what was about to come, and even if I was aware of the pain I was a second away from enduring at his hand, my body refused to react in any other way than pure arousal. “P-Punishment, sir.” I managed the words on nothing more than a whisper, my voice hazy with the building need for him to finally set his perfect hand on me. His foot pressed down on my chest, effectively stealing every last breath that was still rearing beneath my ribcage. I moaned shamelessly, paralyzed with the feeling of having the air ripped away from me. Just when I felt a bout of dizziness warping the edge of my vision, he released me and I struggled to refill my burning lungs with air. I keeled over with a mix of coughs and pants, which only served to ignite a satisfied glint in his eyes. Almost lazily, he took his cravat in hand and loosened the material. He proceeded to fold it with meticulous care and laid it down on the nightstand beside my head. “Undress.” It was only one word, but it held all the order I could fathom. I sat up, wincing as my injuries stung once again, but ignored the lingering pain with the need to please him in any way I could. His dominant side forced my submissiveness out of hiding with just one word; like a side-effect that would only emerge after he injected my system with the drug that was his command over me. I slipped my sweat-soaked shirt over my head, baring my chest to him, which still held the traces of drying blood on it. His gaze travelled over me and I arched my back to give him all the more to see. His lips pressed into a tight line as he took in my taut nipples, which were already blown hard with arousal. We both knew that he was the only one who could make me come on the spot with just one order. This was how much power he held over me, and giving myself to him with every last fiber of my being was exactly what I wanted; what I needed. Leaning back and lifting my back up, I stripped my pants and underwear, putting everything I had to offer on obvious display for his voracious stare. His smoldering grey eyes travelled over my fully erect cock, but he didn’t grant my most throbbing part any attention. It was part of my punishment; I had to beg for it until he was satisfied. “Take off my shoes.” I struggled to obey, crawling off the bed and falling to my knees beside him. Opening the buckles on each one of his high boots, I leaned down to pull them off his enticing legs. I bit my lip until it hurt so much that I mewled lowly. Everything I had in me demanded that I touch him; craved for any part of his body, however small, on my own. But I was familiar enough with his punishments to know I could only touch when he gave me permission to touch. With one swift motion, he put a foot up and slapped his instep across the same cheek that was already pounding with the imprint of his palm. “Kiss my feet. Show me what a good little shit you can be.” It was humiliation in its purest form, but I couldn’t hold back from bending down until my back popped with the low angle, greedy to show him just how much of me was his to command. He switched our positions, sitting down on the bed while crossing his legs and dangling his delicate ankle in front of my face. I felt my eyes blaze when hot tears of emotion pricked at my irises. Fixing his gaze with mine, I slowly sank my lips to his foot and licked a wet trail across his toes. The shudder that went through him didn’t escape my notice and I could feel the growing bulge inside his pants much more than I could actually see it. Which only served to make me triple my efforts to fulfill the command he had given me. I dipped my tongue leisurely over each toe, suckling and kissing until a thin thread of warm saliva connected my mouth to his foot whenever I pulled back. He watched me with rapt attention, not once straying from the view of my bouncing head on his small foot. I knew that he was holding in his own moans at this point, getting close to the same state of helpless arousal I was currently trapped in. “Ahh—Fuck… Shit.” He released an alluring little whine that made my toes curl and my balls tighten between my legs. I felt the sticky drops of precome spilling over the head of my dick to run down in rivulets of primal need. I was yearning for him with every last thread in my body. I needed him more than I needed my next breath, and he knew that all too well. “Stop,” he said, making me halt immediately. I released his pinky toe with a wet pop and looked up at him while I was kneeling on the floor, ready for his next order. He stripped his shirt, leaving his perfect milky chest topped with its glorious pink nipples open to my hungry gaze. I ate him up with my eyes, imagining the taste of him on my tongue. “Get up here on all fours. Show me that tight little ass of yours.” I heaved my weight on the bed, a persistent tremor shaking my body as I rose on my hands and knees. I pushed my ass out just like he'd asked and closed my eyes when I felt cool leather graze against the tender skin of my bottom. Levi didn’t grant me a chance to anticipate the first blow. I screamed out when the crop connected with my bare ass, filling the room with a mix of the sharp slap and my lingering groans. “How often did you defy my direct order on the field today, you shitty little brat?” “Th-Th-” I closed my mouth and tried again. The first blow had effectively disarmed my voice cords, along with my ability to form coherent sentences. “Three t-times, sir.” “Exactly.” He murmured as his palm began to rub over the screaming spot his crop had left on my behind. “Three times. Which is why three blows is what you’re going to get for disobeying me.” I clenched my teeth with an audible crunch and fisted my hands in the sheets until they crumpled with the force I used on the sheer fabric. Even if I knew what was coming now, I couldn’t help screaming even harder when he slapped the crop against my other ass cheek this time. The pain was nothing short of unendurable, and it made my asshole twitch with the greedy anticipation of having him inside, plowing me into the mattress until a tight coil of needy nerves was all that was left of me. I felt the tears pool inside my eyes, and when they fell, I did nothing to stop them. I mumbled his name, unable to scream with a throat that was already sore when the crop came down with its final blow. My arms gave out from under me and my face connected with the soft comforter that smelled just like him. “Good boy,” he whispered, and even through the mist of dominance, I could hear the soft innuendo of appreciation in his voice. It made me smile stupidly into the sheets, even while the entirety of my ass was encased in searing wildfire. His warm palms came down on my behind once again, and the soothing circles he rubbed over the whipped spots he had left on me were enough to take the edge off the pain. I heard him pop the cap of a bottle, but I was not capable of turning my head to discern the liquid he was opening, my head rendered useless in a bout of exhaustion that breezed over my body. It could be salve to calm the sting on my welts, or it could be the lube he used to fuck me senseless. When I felt a slicked tip prodding at my tight entrance that was not his finger, I bit down on the sheet without hesitation. Sick curiosity made my strength return to the point that I could lift my head and shoot a nervous glance at him. He had joined me on the bed, bending over my ass as he positioned the crop’s handle against my opening. “Relax Eren,” he commanded, but the sharp tinge to his voice was gone. “Let me in.” It sounded almost like a plea, and I opened up willingly. The crop pushed past my initial ring of tight muscle and I moaned at the sensation of being filled with the object he had just used to punish me. The slick leather felt cool and foreign inside my ass, and I craved the warm girth of his cock once again. “Move, Eren. Fuck the crop like it’s my cock you’re bouncing on.” Another hot cry tore from my throat as I got up on all fours again and pushed my ass back on the hard handle, feeling as it slipped inside me with another few inches. “Ca- Captain, I… ahh... I-I can’t take anymore. Please, let me come.” My request left my mouth on a throaty moan, and I pushed back on the short crop even more. It was embedded inside me to the hilt and I winced at the prickly fullness it elicited deep inside me. “Go on. Ride it.” His command left no room for objections and I started to push to and fro on the leather stick, riding it just like he ordered me to. I was so fucking close to coming all over the bed; it took herculean effort to hold back. I needed to release so bad, I felt like I was going insane with the power it took to deny myself sweet relief. With a quick motion that left my hole twitching, he removed the crop and it took a moment to get used to the emptiness it left behind. My breath came rattled and sloppy when I felt the tip of his slicked cock at my stretched hole. I bit my lip when he slammed into me with one single stroke, stretching me open until I felt like breaking. “Shh, endure it.” He buried his fingers in my hair and I was already bracing myself for the pain when he used it as leverage to tug my head back, but instead, he began to wrap the soft brunette strands around his fingers to play with them. The feeling of being touched tenderly and rammed into at the same time was a heady mixture of pleasure and pain that made my thumping heart shoot into overdrive. “Captain, I—ahh—“ A string of garbled phrases left my lips in a breathy cry when I lost the ability to speak at last. “You’re so fucking tight, Eren, even tighter than usual. Did getting whipped turn you on so much, you filthy little thing? Or was it riding my crop with that needy ass of yours?” I picked up on the praise in his words, even if it would have been hidden to anyone else. Fuck, I loved when he talked dirty to me. And even more when he praised me. “Captain, please—don’t stop.” I moaned as I rutted my hips back against his cock, meeting him halfway to unleash an even rougher pounding on my tight hole around him. “Oh, no. I’m not done with you, Eren.” I would have wept tears of joy if there was any tear fluid left in my body when I felt him showering my back with kisses that were too gentle to be considered as anything else but a display of affection on his part. I arched my back into his mouth, begging him silently to kiss me more, to mark my body with the lips I wanted to feel on me for the rest of eternity. The sweet sensation made me tighten around his hard length once again and then we both got wrapped up in the hot mess of our mixed moans and screams as we reached our peaks at the same time; him filling me up with hot spurts of his come, me releasing all over his creamy satin sheets. For a few long moments, the only thing that drifted around us were our heavy pants. I felt utterly spent, and a heavy blanket of fulfilling satisfaction wrapped me into its tight warmth. I reveled in the feeling of Levi’s weight on my body and searched for anything to say that would make him stay there forever. “Don’t ever fucking do that again.” His words whispered over my neck like a caress and I wished he would turn me around and kiss me with the same tenderness. I was momentarily confused about what he meant, when he spoke again. “Fuck.” He cursed. “I thought I wouldn’t be able to save your ass this time.” Even through the thick haze of my afterglow, his words reached me, their meaning striking me straight through my heart. He had been scared. He had been scared of losing me, and that was exactly why his fear had turned into the rage I had just witnessed. It was his way of showing me that he accepted me by his side, and wanted to keep me there. The love I harbored for him burst out of its seams and filled my entire body with giddy joy. He was the only person on this planet who could make me feel this way, and even if I was only a boy compared to him, I knew that I could never hope to find someone like him. We may not have lived in freedom, and we possibly never would, and yet he was giving me the only freedom I’d ever need. He was my ticket to a place that felt safe; even if the world outside was swallowed by terror. Even if he’d commanded me not to in this moment, I wouldn’t have listened. With the last strength my body could muster, I turned and wrapped him into my arms. To say I wasn’t shocked at his lack of resistance would have been an understatement; which was exactly why I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feel of him in my arms with every single one of my senses. He released a soft breath that travelled over my collarbone and I squeezed him closer, threading my fingers in his silky black hair and cradling his head to my chest. “I won’t disobey again, Captain. I won’t make you worry anymore.” He opened his mouth and I knew the protest was on the tip of his tongue. Usually, he’d tell me that he would never waste his time with worrying about a shitty little brat like me, but today, he stayed silent. His arms wrapped around my body and he placed a single kiss on my neck before he trailed his lips over my jawline and up to my mouth. I opened my eyes when I felt him just above my trembling lips and it took every restraint I had in me to not lean in and take his kiss by force. He caressed the bruise he had left on my cheek and bent down to lick it, drawing a delicious shiver out of me. “Captain, uhm…” I urged myself to go on and not back down, like I had all those times before. Today felt different and I wanted to try. “I have a request, if I may…” I trailed off when Levi chuckled softly and raised a questioning eyebrow at me. I got the feeling that he knew exactly what I wanted to ask of him, but that didn’t stop me from doing it anyway. “Captain, I—Can you… May I ask you to kiss me? Please?” A hot surge of nervousness and embarrassment consumed my pounding heart and I fought against the urge to avert my gaze from his beautiful grey orbs. He grew still against my body and I knew I had made a mistake. Trying to backtrack, I opened my mouth to apologize, but he shut me up with a finger on my lips. “I thought you’d never have the balls to ask.” I didn’t have time to let the whirling surprise register on my brain when his lips came down on mine. He was everything I had imagined, and more. His lips were sweet, salty, brusque and tender on mine, filling me up with happiness down to my very core. I was sure that this was what bliss must feel like, and in that moment, I knew that I would always fight for him, no matter what obstacles life decided to throw in our way. He was my safe haven, my moment of calm in a world that was never still; the home I would always come to. If wings represented freedom, then that was what he meant to me. He was my wings, and the wind beneath them.
10647591	Like a Drug	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Jason Todd, Slade Wilson", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by firefright", "chapters": "2/2", "completed": "2019-08-23", "published": "2017-04-16T00:00:00", "words": "11,108", "Additional Tags": "BDSM, Dom/sub, Blindfolds, Implied/Referenced Torture, Angst and Porn, Praise Kink, Manipulation, Power Dynamics", "Relationship": "Jason Todd/Slade Wilson", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "A Different Kind of Therapy", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Batman - All Media Types", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Even Jason can admit that it was a little disturbing how quickly he had proven himself to be a liar in the aftermath of his encounter with Slade. How quickly his words—This was just a one time thing, it won’t happen again—had fallen flat.What happened between them was supposed to be a passing moment of weakness; an indulgence that never should have been. Something he could have, should have, been able to shake off easily, and then never think about again. But after they had finished cleaning up and parted ways from the abandoned subway tunnel where it had taken place, Jason had gone back to his current hideout and, for the first time since the Joker took him, slept the whole night through with an ease he later found frightening upon waking.There had been no nightmares. No bad dreams. He hadn’t twisted himself into a knot amongst the blankets the way he usually did, shaking with the memory of hard fists and burning brands, or woken up drenched in a sweat that required him to immediately take a shower and change his clothing afterwards.Instead there had been nothing. Nothing but a comforting darkness, and though he’d tried to excuse the change through a hundred other factors at first, when it came down to it, Jason could only really think of one reason why.It had only gotten worse when he met Slade again the next day to hear his report from the training grounds in South America. Despite his best efforts to stay focused, Jason soon found himself growing distracted at every turn. Slade’s voice was the same deep rumble it had always been, but now that sound carried different connotations — and memories — with it. When he gestured with his hands to make his point, Jason could only think of how they’d felt sliding over his skin; reaching down and into the deepest and most intimate parts of him. His voice commanding, his gaze — that piercing shade of blue that seemed to see through every defence he had — studiously watching him come apart, and then Slade… Then Slade had stopped talking, at least for a moment, and while Jason was struggling to remember exactly what it was he said last so that he could offer a suitable response, simply shaken his head and smiled down at him.“Are you sure this is the way you want it to be, kid?”Jason had opened his mouth to deny he wanted anything, but then… well. He never has been able to look at his workbench the same way after that.Now, three months later, and so much closer to the promised day itself, Jason can’t help shivering as he kneels on the carpeted floor of one of Slade’s safehouses in Gotham, barefoot and clad only in a pair of loose sweatpants.How it had come to this, from one secretly sordid encounter to the next, is something of a blur. A haze of needy sensation. Jason knows that he should regret this arrangement of theirs, should stop it. He thinks about doing so every time, but he’d faltered from the first, and now he can’t seem to stop himself from sliding ever further down that slippery slope into the hell that he’s created for himself — though hell may not be quite the right word for it. His time with the Joker (Bruce’s fault, always Bruce’s fault), that had been hell. This on the other hand, was something entirely different.With hungry eyes, Jason watches Slade take another sip from his wine glass. The motion is slow, relaxed, as if they have all the time in the world together; as if what’s coming two days hence may never arrive.Just like Jason, Slade is dressed down now, wearing nothing but a plain white button-up shirt and dark slacks that are cut just right to hide the full breadth of the muscle beneath. No boots or gloves. No mask either, to cover the handsome lines of his face. The first time Jason saw Slade out of uniform had been a revelation, a glimpse of the man behind the mercenary; now, it inspires an almost pavlovian reaction in him as he strains to keep his arms positioned behind his back and not do anything Slade will make him regret.Finally, Slade deigns to talk to him. “You’re restless tonight.”Of course he is, Jason resists the urge to point out. These moments, these days, when Jason is antsy, or irritated, vibrating with the force of all the pent up energy and emotion inside of him, are the entire reason they’re here. That’s the deal they have. Slade purges him of those emotions, stops him from shaking apart, and for a little while longer Jason is able to hold himself together as they both go about their separate business. Or at the very least until the next time Slade comes to visit rolls around.Jason gets clarity, peace; the temporary expulsion of his demons by handing over his control — however briefly — to another, and Slade… Slade gets a good fuck out of it, he supposes, and confidence that his employer will have the focus to finish what he started. That’s what Jason thinks, anyway.“Is that a problem?” He raises his chin up, even as he clenches his hands tighter around his wrists. His submission may be the eventual goal here, but that’s still not something he can ever hand over without a fight, no matter how many times Slade has proven he’s capable of pushing him into it.The question prompts Slade’s eye to narrow. The wine glass, now empty, is set down on the floor in front of the bed. Whereas Jason’s safehouses are places of bare necessity, Slade’s own are far more comfortable, which is part and parcel of why they started meeting here to do this rather than there. Carpeted floors, a comfortable bed, and well stocked with all the little luxuries Slade likes to enjoy on his nights off. “Why don’t you tell me, kid? And remember what was missing at the end of that sentence while you’re at it.”Just the tone of his voice is enough to make Jason’s toes curl under him.He licks his lips, which are dry and cracked from the cold October air outside. “Depends on what you’re planning.” He says, then almost pointedly adds, “Sir.”Slade’s footsteps are barely a whisper on the floor as he stands up and moves behind him. Jason feels his body tense in anticipation, and isn’t disappointed when a large hand clenches in his hair, dragging his head back as Slade crouches down. Hot breath washes over the rim of Jason’s ear when he speaks. “Oh no, Jason. This is about what you’re planning, remember? You, the Scarecrow, and the Bat.”Jason clenches his teeth at the reminder. “It’s fine.” he assures him, “I’m ready for that. For him.”Another whisper of fabric. Now, Slade’s broad chest is resting against his back, and Jason has to fight doubly hard not to break the first commandment Slade gave him tonight: not to reach out and touch. Not until he’s earned it. Jason’s half-caught in anticipation of what that disobedience would bring, and half-desperate to please by resisting it, especially when Slade pulls him again by his hair, harder and further until Jason’s head is resting back against his shoulder. “Is that right? Tell me.”“I’m going to kill him.” he shudders as the next rush of air passes over the brand on his cheek. “I’m going to see him dead and Gotham ruined.”Slade’s hand clenches tighter in his hair, while its partner wraps around Jason from the front, pressing firmly in against his stomach. “And you mean it? There’s no regrets running through that pretty head of yours tonight? No lingering sentimentality over Wayne making you second guess your choices?”Jason hisses at the first pinch of pain in his scalp, made worse when he tries to shake his head in denial. “None.” his words are hard as iron, as steel. He’s not falling apart this time. He just needs an edge, needs an outlet for the nervous energy tapping at his bones, and if this is a test, Jason fully intends to pass it. “He’s going to get what he deserves. They all will for abandoning me.” He clenches his teeth harder, staring up at the yellow light overhead until his eyes start to sting from its brightness. “For forgetting me.”The glass case he found in the cave doesn’t matter. Neither does the framed photograph sitting at the foot of it. Nothing more than a lie, all of it. Just a pretty veneer to cover up the ugly truth of what Bruce was. Of what he had done.Slade hums before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the arch of Jason’s shoulder. His beard scratches over the skin there, scarred and smooth alike. It’s a reward for his conviction, even as Slade asks, “Then why are you here?”Jason shudders and gasps at the press of teeth that follows next. He’s already hard in his pants, has been almost since the first moment Slade touched him. “Slade…”“Say it, kid. You know the rules of this game by now. You tell me the truth before anything else, and ask me for what you want.”He bites back a moan, trying to bow his head forward. But the grip Slade has on his hair won’t let him. “I…”Even now it’s hard for him to say it. Slade had started enforcing this rule from the third time they’d slept together onwards, even before any of the subsequent rules came into play. Pushing Jason each time to admit his desires; to be honest rather than hide behind a sharp tongue and denial. He gets off on it, Jason thinks, on hearing him ask for what he shouldn’t. But Slade also doesn’t like him to give in so easily. He likes to have to work for it a little, the same as Jason likes to be worked for. “N-need everything spelled out for you, huh?”Slade sighs behind him, then the hand he has resting on Jason’s stomach is suddenly around his throat and squeezing. Jason inhales reflexively, the grip he has on his own wrists behind him breaking as his hands fly reflexively upwards, clawing at Slade’s bicep like an animal before he finds himself being shoved down onto the floor. He gasps, both at the impact and weight of Slade’s bulk bearing down upon him. Not only is his strength as impossibly impressive now as it always has been — a living advertisement for the unexpected perks of volunteering for military experimentation — but worse, the position can’t help but inspire a visceral flashback to the first time they fucked; Slade’s fingers shoving into his mouth in punishment for Jason snarling back at him.The burn of the carpet against his cheek isn’t quite the same as the rough floor of the tunnel, but the way he still has to struggle to draw breath past Slade’s hand more than makes up for it.“Say that again.” Slade says sweetly in his ear, beard scraping across his skin again. “Go on. Give me every excuse to tell you no and toss you out onto the street.”“Y… You...” Drool slides out of his mouth when he tries to talk. There’s not enough air in Jason’s lungs for him to make words with, but despite what he just said, Slade doesn’t actually seem interested in hearing him speak.“You come to me for this, remember? You follow my rules. Shedding that armour of yours, kneeling on my floor like a good boy.” Jason shudders at the two words in conjunction with each other. He pants like a dog, wanting them to be given to him directly, wanting that praise that has always been his life’s blood and too often denied to him.Dumb. Worthless. Useless kid. Those had been his terms of endearment growing up. No love, no cherishment. Just the back of a hand if he was lucky, the ring of a belt if he was not. Even before Bruce and the Joker got hold of him, Jason had scars aplenty.With a background like that, after being betrayed by two different sets of parents twice over, was there any wonder he found himself starving for even a show of that affection now? It doesn’t matter if the man offering it to him is a ruthless mercenary, it’s what Jason craves.“Sl… ade…” Slade squeezes his throat tighter, hard enough to white out Jason’s vision from the twisted thrill of it for a moment, if not leave bruises. Then the hold relaxes, letting him drag just enough air back into his lungs that he can talk.“You don’t want it to be like this all night tonight, do you, kid? Not before your big day.” Slade drags thick fingers back through Jason’s hair, raking them over his scalp. “You want me to take care of you, right? Give what I have to give. So go ahead and ask me for it. Nicely.”“I want…” he coughs a little, swallowing back the well of saliva that’s piled into his mouth. “I want…” The small violence hasn’t done anything to distill the stiffness of his cock between his legs, only enhanced it with the thrill of adrenaline, and Jason squirms now like some helpless teenager, rubbing himself against the floor in an attempt to gain friction; any friction.Slade on the other hand, is as patient as any angler while he waits him out. “Go on.”“You.” he whispers eventually. “God damn it, Slade. You know I want…” The fingers tighten again on his throat in brief warning. Jason hiccups before correcting himself. “I—I want you to... to… ah, fuck me. Please.”“Crude as always.” Slade says, but he sounds pleased. Another kiss against his jaw is Jason’s reward. “But don’t worry, I know what you need. Out of your head, all right?”When Slade’s grip on him loosens enough for him to do so, Jason nods. Those four words have an almost religious connotation to him now.He’s not on the edge of falling apart this time. No nightmare haunted him when he woke up today, nor has his scar been itching. But still he needs this. Needs that. Everything he’s planned for over a year is about to come to a head, and the knowledge that he’s so close to it keeps eating at him. He’s buzzing with energy that needs an outlet; a distraction, even if just for a few hours, and he needs it before that buzzing can get any worse.His time with Slade isn’t always a cure: sometimes it’s a preventative measure. Other times, it’s both.The sound Slade makes this time is a thoughtful one, as if weighing his options. While he thinks, his hand gentles in Jason’s hair, though the grip he has around his throat remains firm. A collar without an actual chain.Jason swallows hard at the thought.“So…” he says, after a moment of dealing with that. “You actually going to do anything or…”Slade snorts against his temple, before dragging him back up into the same kneeling position he was in before. “Stay.” Is the simple command, “Hands behind you back. You need to earn your reward before it’s given, and if you move again before I tell you to, I will make you regret it.”“Sir, yes, sir.” Another snort. Then Slade is up on his feet, moving away towards a corner of the room while Jason locks his hands together again behind his back, fingers around his wrist and holding himself contained. Another rule (Jason’s own this time): they don’t use actual restraints. The one time Slade had tried to fasten handcuffs on him as part of the play Jason had reacted, badly, and after all the effort it took to calm him back down, they never tried it again. If he can’t get out of it himself at a moment’s notice, then it doesn’t go on. The only exception to that rule is Slade’s own hands, which when they’re around him — holding Jason by his wrists or throat or hair — are warm, thrilling. He doesn’t understand why he can stand that when he can’t the cuffs or rope, but like the best of addicts, at this point Jason’s largely stopped questioning it.What works, works. What doesn’t, doesn’t. The rest he can quite happily live without.Which is why it surprises him so much when Slade comes back carrying a slip of red fabric in his hands.“Slade…” Jason knows he’s tensing up as he comes closer, swallowing hard. The steady fluttering of his pulse beneath his fingers ratchets up a beat.“Easy, kid.” Slade says calmly as he kneels again, in front of Jason this time. “This isn’t for that.”“Then what is it for?”His eyes track the material as Slade slides it between his fingers. Then he lifts it up, holding it against Jason’s face and letting him feel its softness. Silk, he thinks, at that almost liquid glide, it’s silk.Jason shudders when the fabric passes over the brand mark on his left cheek, barely tickling the sensitive edges of the scar. For Slade to have something like that, even just a single strip of it, instantly has his curiosity peaking.“A blindfold.”The words, innocuous enough on their own, make Jason’s heart almost stop in his chest. A blindfold? Slade wants to...Slade doesn’t hesitate as he drops the silk away from Jason’s face. He wraps it around both hands, then strokes his thumbs along the length of the strip. “Same rules apply as always. You don’t want it, tell me now. You want it off at any time, you want anything to stop at anytime, you tell me; use the safe word we agreed on. Nothing happens here that you don’t want, kid, you know that.”Jason considers it, holding back on his initial instinct, which is to say ‘no’. “Why?”Slade smirks at him, a relaxed curl of his lips. “Removing one sense heightens the others, Jason, you know that.” He moves his hands forwards, this time pressing the silk against the line of Jason’s throat. “I want you focused on what you can feel tonight, not what you can see.”Jason inhales sharply at the touch. Against his throat, even the silk has a threatening edge. “Think you can handle that?”Jason clenches his teeth together. Blindfolds had never been… Out of all the various tortures the Joker had used, blindfolds fall relatively low on the scale for him. They had mostly been used during the early days of his torture to disorientate him, and for dramatic effect. Once Joker had broken Jason down into his obedient puppet however, they’d become less and less common.The thing about the clown is—was, he had been a showman. An attention whore. He liked to be seen and appreciated for all his vile acts. He liked to watch as Jason panicked with the knowledge of what was coming to him; to see him squirm and flinch even when he knew it wouldn’t do any good. If there was one lesson Jason had learned from his time with him, it was that. The pain would come, it always did.And because of that, because of him, Jason’s not afraid of pain anymore, and the dark has always been his friend more than an enemy. A place to hide and heal, to be alone. Jason knows he can handle that; it’s whether he trusts Slade to be around him when he can’t see that’s the problem. But then, Slade has also never been anything but loyal from the moment Jason handed over his first exorbitantly priced wage cheque. Jason’s sure he won’t turn on him. Not until the job is done, anyway.Still, it never hurts to be cautious. “If I need it off, it comes off.” he agrees, “And I can take it off myself if I need to. No matter what else you’ve told me to do.”Slade’s smirk doesn’t drop, in fact it widens. “Good boy.” he praises, whether for Jason’s acceptance or for him enforcing his own conditions is debatable, but the sentiment behind them doesn’t matter half as much as the words themselves.The silk stays at his throat as Slade leans in to kiss him, and Jason raises his head expectantly up to meet it. Like all their kisses, it can’t be called gentle. Slade’s not that sort of man. He takes Jason’s mouth like he has a right to it, like he owns it, spearing his tongue in between his lips and sweeping it broadly across Jason’s own. A sentiment that should trouble him, except it’s more or less precisely what he’s here for.Jason squeezes his wrist behind him, closing his eyes as he eagerly pushes up against the kiss. The taste of wine is strong over Slade’s tongue, rich and sour-edged, and without thinking he sucks on it, seeking to draw out more of that flavour — as well as a surprised grunt from Slade that is not at all displeased.“Eager already.” He chuckles when they part, leaving Jason panting. “Now, let’s see if we can put that energy to good use.”Slade leans back, the silk withdrawing with him. Despite his conviction, Jason still swallows as Slade raises his hands, but doesn’t flinch when the material moves forwards towards his face, lingering for a moment against the bridge of his nose before pressing in over his eyes. He keeps them open as Slade fastens the blindfold behind his head, fingers brushing his hair before drawing the knot closed. With the silk in place, the familiar sight of Slade’s face vanishes to be replaced by a field of red, similar in shade to the inner display of Jason’s helmet.It’s… it’s not dark, he realises. Not entirely, and that in itself is a pleasant surprise. He should have known better than to think his sight would be removed completely; Slade always thinks of these little details in regards to their play, and to him.It’s the kind of thoughtfulness that would be touching to Jason — that is, if he actually let himself believe it came from a place of genuine caring.“You all right there, kid?” Slade asks him, thumb brushing against his lips now.He manages a nod, “Yes,” then, when Slade’s fingers tighten on his jaw, adds in a “sir.” onto the end of it.“Good.”He gasps when Slade’s hand suddenly curls around the back of his neck, pulling him up higher onto his knees and then forward. There’s no pain, not yet, but the grip is inexorable, as is the force pushing him along. Slade offers no further words of guidance, his hand alone enough to tell Jason what to do as they move across the carpet.Eyes still open to that scarlet field, Jason does his best to recall the layout of the apartment in front of him: large, open-plan, more of a studio with only the bathroom set behind a separate door rather than a network of rooms, which leaves a lot of options for where Slade could be leading him. He knows it’s not the bed, that would’ve been directly ahead, and their path has them veering to the left. The couch? The dining table? Before he can figure it out, Slade stops.“Lean forward. On your hands and knees against the floor.” Slade scratches the back of Jason’s neck fondly as he scrambles to obey the order, not losing his grip for an instant despite the way Jason has to bow forwards to place his hands down. Then he lets go, stepping around him, and Jason bites his lip as he tries to concentrate on the soft sound of Slade’s feet against the floor before a creak of leather alerts him to exactly where they are.There’s only one armchair in the room, set between the couch and the bed. One of those wingback creations made of brown leather and rich mahogany wood. Expensive, luxurious. There were similar ones in Wayne Manor back when he lived there, though those were antiques and this one is decidedly not. Slade must have sat down on it, but the strange thing is, the sound comes from Jason’s left, rather than in front of or behind him like he’d expect it to.“Sir,” he says cautiously, “What—”“I haven’t finished my wine yet, so you’re going to stay there, exactly like that, until I do. And you’ll take anything else I do to you in the meantime without question or complaint, understand?”Still confused by what’s happening, Jason can only nod. His obedience was guaranteed the moment he climbed in through Slade’s window, shedding his armour in more ways than one. He only needs to know what is expected of him so that he can fulfill it.Slade doesn’t make him wait long for an answer. Barely a minute passes before a weight settles down against his back, just preceding the sound of liquid being poured into a glass from a bottle, and for a moment Jason is stunned. Did Slade just… has he seriously just…The weight is Slade’s feet, he realises. His legs resting against his back. Jason’s fingers dig harder into the plush carpet beneath him, a snarl almost crossing his lips even as his mind races to figure the reasoning behind the action out — as well as resist his initial compulsion to throw Slade off him.The first, and obvious, answer that he comes up with is that press of Slade’s legs is there to add weight and strain to the position that he has been ordered to maintain, thereby making it more challenging for Jason to keep to his command. But the parts of him that haven’t complete surrendered yet — that won’t switch off entirely until they’re much deeper into their play — knows it can’t just be that. It can’t be that simple. There has to be something more to it. So, after taking a deep breath to steady himself, Jason thinks again.Slade knows that using him as something so menial as a footrest would rankle at his pride. That it would push Jason to fight back and disobey. And if he disobeys then he’ll earn himself a punishment — or worse, he’ll break the scene, which while fun for Slade, is the exact opposite of what he wants.You need to earn your reward before it’s given was what Slade had said to him, and though he can’t see it, Jason knows Slade’s eye will be on him now, reading every minute twitch of his muscles and the clench of his jaw. With that in mind, he forces himself to breath through the immediate anger that comes with the motion, to focus instead on what his obedience can bring: the memory of Slade’s hands and mouth on him, breaking him open in far more pleasant ways.He can take this, Jason realises. Anything Slade has to give him, he can take, gladly, all for his approval.Finally relaxing again, Jason shifts his hands and knees as much as he reasonably can to adjust for the extra pressure on his back. Slade’s heels dig in against the base of his spine, but there’s no word or sound of displeasure from him, so what he’s doing must be okay so far. The only question is, how long does Slade plan to make it last? Just how full was that bottle of wine when Jason last looked at it? He’d only seen Slade drink the one glass before, but a bottle that size was easily big enough to contain three or four. Not to mention that Slade likes to take his time when drinking, savouring the flavour with every mouthful.Jason knows that, because this isn’t the first time Slade’s had a mind to test his patience. It is, however, the first time he’s done it in this particular way. Before Jason was always kneeling, eyes open and able to watch Slade as he ignored him. But now...Two glasses of wine.His muscles locked, his body unmoving, Jason dares only to flex his fingers to ease the stiffness out of them as the minutes and seconds tick by. But that freedom doesn’t ring true to the rest of his body, and with the blindfold on, Jason suddenly finds himself with a distinct lack of external stimulus to distract himself with. Ordinarily, such a thing would worry him, because a lack of external distraction often led to an influx of internal thought, except that doesn’t ring true this time. This time, he finds that his world narrows down not to what’s going on inside his own mind, but to what he can feel instead — just as Slade told him it would. The press of feet against his back, the thick carpet supporting his hands and knees. The growing ache in the rest of his joints and muscles as he works to stay completely stationary. Pain, but not like what he would expect from a blade or a fist.What it is, he realises, is an acute awareness of his own body; every trembling muscle from his wrists to his shoulders, neck, back, and then down to his knees. As time goes on, Jason swears he can even hear the thundering beat of his own heart in his ears; a sound complimented by the slow, heavy rhythm of his breathing. (And between his legs, there’s the stiff heavy weight of his cock, flushed with heat and arousal that hasn’t gone away despite the lack of direct stimulation to it.)How long he remains like that, waiting, Jason doesn’t know. Caught up in the wave of feeling from his own body, he completely loses track of time, despite having training to stop exactly this type of scenario from happening. It could minutes, could be hours. All Jason knows is that he’s almost floating by the end of it, sinking deeper down into himself, until — almost out of nowhere — the weight of Slade’s legs suddenly vanishes from his back.Disorientated, he’s not ready for the foot that pushes against the side of his rib cage, gentle but firm, and after forcing his limbs to to stay locked in the same position for so long, Jason couldn’t fight that push even if he wanted to. He hits the floor, and cries out loud as the blood starts to rush in through his cramped muscles, his arms and legs instinctively trying to curl in on themselves.Now the pain is sharper. A swarm of stinging bees that delve into the spaces between Jason’s bones as he shakes through it. The sensation is sudden, intense, and leaves him gasping as he tries to flex his hands and feet to work himself through the feeling. “S—Slade, you...”A low chuckle betrays Slade’s reaction. Then Jason feels one large hand cup the side of his head before Slade’s thumb brushes over his cheek, the motion deceptively tender as it cuts off the rest of the words he meant to say (which is probably a good thing).“Easy now...” Slade rumbles, his voice far enough away from Jason to indicate that he’s only stretched his arm down to reach him and not actually left the chair. “You did well there, kid. Almost a full hour with no movement. I must say I’m impressed. What about you,” his fingers move to curl beneath Jason’s chin, lifting his head up so that it’s presumably facing him, “do you think that deserves a reward?”Jason licks his lips, which feel dry and cracked. He’s still not altogether with it, still caught off-guard by Slade’s sudden change of tactics, and because of that, he unthinkingly says, “Y-yes. Yes, sir, please, I—”It’s the wrong answer."And why is that?" Slade asks, setting the wine glass in his other hand down with a clink on the nearby side table. "For doing what you were told to? Is that worth reward, boy? Should I expect you to behave only when you know you're going to be rewarded for it?"Jason realises what he’s done far too late to save himself. In their game, it’s not his place to determine if and when he’s earned his reward, only Slade’s, and he swallows hard as that hand tightens around in his jaw, followed by its partner settling in his hair. Slade hasn’t given him permission to move otherwise yet, so Jason strains to keep his hands still; a feat roughly equivalent to the climbing of Mount Everest in this moment. “I—no, I…”“What’s that?” Jason breathes in hard through his nose. He wants to see, he wants — but that’s not where they’re at yet. Not unless he wants to end this prematurely. Still, his body might obey, but his tongue soon betrays him again. “Fuck no, Slade… but, you asked, you said I’d—”“Done a good job?” Slade tutts at him, “I did, and now you’re undoing it. It’s always that mouth of yours getting you into trouble, isn’t it, boy?”Jason groans as his hair is tugged, a sound that is not entirely one of pain. This time he manages to bite down on any smartass comment. “Yes, sir.” Slade grunts, “Lucky for you, then, that I can think of much better uses for it. And if you do a good enough job, I may even still reward you later.” He nudges Jason again, this time with his foot. “Get back up on your knees, and put your hands behind your back again. Now.”Jason groans as he forces himself to obey. Muscles still aching, body protesting as he moves his arms behind his back and wraps one hand around its opposing wrist. The position is comfortable in its familiarity, a solid reminder that in restraining himself, this encounter is still in his power to continue or end at any time.“Sir?” he gulps as he’s guided forwards on his knees, until he feels his shoulders being bracketed in between Slade’s strong thighs. He can’t see his face, but he can only imagine the man is smiling as he strokes his hand back through Jason’s hair.“You know what to do.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The boy hesitates for only a moment after he gives his command. Slade watches intently as Jason’s head moves forwards, teeth seeking out the zipper at the front of his slacks. He’s already done him the favour of popping open the button, and it’s with delicate precision that Jason closes his mouth around the slider, slowly drawing it down as far as it will possibly go before turning his focus to pulling the material open on both sides.Knowing he can’t be observed doing so, Slade smiles to himself at the sight.It’s taken time, and a lot of patience, to get Jason to this place of total submission. To the point where a word from Slade can have him on his knees, self-bound and blinded, ready to do whatever he tells him to do. The need had been in the boy from the beginning — he’d seen that the very first time he’d gotten him into this position, back in the old subway tunnel below Gotham three months ago. But coaxing it out to reach this point had been like befriending a feral cat; a slow process, full of trial and error.Worth it, though, Slade thinks, as Jason licks his lips before nuzzling his face against his crotch, for the sweetness he’d found therein.Whoever said you can’t mix work and pleasure?He’s been half-hard since they started the scene, and quickly stiffens further under the wet feel of Jason’s mouth through the fabric of his underwear. Slade hums in appreciation as he reaches down to stroke, then tug at, the thick curls of his hair, softly murmuring, “That’s it,” because he knows when and where Jason needs the encouragement after being so recently scolded, “Good boy.”His words elicit a shiver, as well as a small sigh as Jason nuzzles at him, following the firm line of Slade’s cock before lifting himself up higher onto his knees, trying to catch the hem of his boxers with his teeth. It’s a valiant effort, and Slade is pleased to see that the boy remembers his order to keep his hands behind his back throughout.The fifth time Jason tries and fails to get the material down, however, he starts to get a little impatient, and decides he may as well help him out.“Back,” Slade says, with a tug of his hair, using it in place of the physical leash the boy won’t let him tie around his neck — a shame, he’d look extra pretty like that. But boundaries are boundaries, and pushing too hard now would only ruin everything he’s worked so hard to build at this point. “Remember, if you can’t do something, ask.”“I could do it.” Jason mumbles, a muted protest as he pushes his head into Slade’s hand, breath hitching a little at the pull. “I could…”Slade just clucks his tongue disapprovingly. With his free hand he tugs his underwear down, takes his cock out, and gives it a few languid strokes before pulling Jason forward once again. “The night isn’t that long, boy. And there are better uses for your mouth right now than arguing with me.”Jason’s cheeks flush as red as his blindfold at the reprimand. Slade watches a swallow run the length of his long throat before he’s nodding, “Yes, sir.” and wrapping his lips around Slade’s cock.Slade bites his lip to hold back an immediate hiss of pleasure. He’s good at this. Slade had worked that out the first time he ordered Jason down onto his knees and slid himself into the boy’s mouth, which was the second time they had sex in the back room of one of Jason’s hideouts, shortly before Slade fucked him over his workbench. Somewhere along the line, back before either the Bat or the Clown got hold of him, Jason had practice getting down on his knees for people. In what exact context, Slade can only take an estimated guess, but still the point remains.Jason is good at this, and Slade is never going to pass up the opportunity to use his mouth while it’s available to him.He watches hungrily as the pink tip of the boy’s tongue laps at the head of his cock, tracing the hard ridge around its circumference and then finally the slit of it. Jason’s almost delicate in his motions, taking his time to explore (even though he’s already more than well acquainted at this point) rather than diving straight in — an approach Slade readily appreciates. He lets his fingers linger in Jason’s hair, but only that. He doesn’t pull or guide him here. At least not yet.Soon, Jason turns his attention from the head to the entire length of his cock. Licking up and down from root to tip; mouthing along the side. He has his head tilted, brow furrowed in concentration; the wrinkle above it just visible over the top of the blindfold. He’s listening for Slade’s reactions to guide him, but Slade pointedly keeps mum despite his very real enjoyment, not allowing even the smallest sigh of pleasure to escape his lips.The boy has to earn it, every time.Finally, realising that he’s not going to get a reaction solely from any gentle teasing on this occasion, Jason moves back, licks his lips and — faster than even Slade expects — brings his head forward to take the entirety of his cock into his mouth. Sliding it inch by inch down his throat until the point of his nose comes into contact with Slade’s belly and his throat is fluttering vice tight around him in an effort not to gag.There’s no way he can breathe like this, jaw stretched wide and almost to breaking point, but Jason holds the position anyway, forcing his throat to relax just a little more with every swallow until his arms and shoulders are shaking from the strain.Slade licks his lips. The constricting heat of the boy’s throat is exquisite, and the audible breath he lets out in that moment is just as calculated as the gentle way he scratches his fingers against Jason’s scalp.“That’s it,” he praises, “Good boy. Just like that; don’t forget to breathe.”Slade tugs on Jason’s hair to better emphasise his point, and at last he pulls back far enough to gasp in a lungful of air. Drool runs down his chin from his lips, which are reddened already despite the fact he’s only been at this a couple minutes; gorgeously rose-coloured, slick and wet with both spit and precum. Jason swallows thickly before going back down on him again.This time, he doesn’t hold the position, but begins to bob his head back and forth, hollowing his cheeks and sucking wetly as he goes. Slow at first, then faster once he gets the rhythm of it. Sound comes with the action, loud and lewd. Slade allows himself to curl the fingers of his free hand around the arm of his chair, gripping it every time he feels the head of his cock impact the back of Jason’s throat.God, it feels good. He could come like this easily if he let himself, but there’s more that he wants to do tonight. More use he wants to make of this beautiful, broken boy while he still has the chance. It’s such a pity Slade hadn’t found him first before the Bat did. What he could have made of him. Could still make of him, as a matter of fact, should Jason be amenable once all this is said and done.It’s a thought he’s had in passing before. Offering to keep the boy with him. But Slade knows better than to say it before the Bat’s dead. The kid hasn’t thought that far ahead yet, and the less cause Slade gives him to consider now what will become of him without that goal in his life the better. It’ll make him all the easier to recruit later on, when he’s feeling lost and hopeless, needing something new to dedicate himself to so he can never truly comprehend what it is he’s done.With a roll of his hips, Slade thrusts deeper into that willing mouth, now using his hold on Jason’s hair to keep his head still as he uses him. The boy doesn’t cough or splutter at the sudden change, just whimpers in a weak, desperate way that betrays how much he enjoys this. How much he needs to be needed, desired… How easily he’ll roll over for anyone willing to spare him a word of praise or a gentle touch.“Beautiful,” Slade murmurs, in acknowledgement of that fact, how intoxicating the power of it is, and instantly the whimper is exchanged for a moan in Jason’s throat. “So beautiful, boy. So, ah, good for me, aren’t you? So eager to please.”He drags Jason’s head forward to meet his next thrust and then holds position, watching as the boy’s skin reddens first with pleased embarrassment, then the renewed strain of not being able to breathe. He doesn’t struggle, though, doesn’t even release his hands from behind his back, just stays still even as the seconds stretch on until over a minute, and Slade hums in pleasure before finally letting him fall back to gasp in desperate lungfuls of air.“Sir,” Jason chokes eventually, voice hoarse and raw with how bruised the inside of his throat must be, “Slade…”“Your mouth is sweet, boy, but that’s not how I’m looking to finish tonight.” he tells him, sliding his hand down from the kid’s hair to cup his chin instead. There’s spit running down it, and Slade smirks as he rubs his thumb through the mess. “I want that tight ass of yours instead. What do you think, would you like that?”Jason inhales sharper, which in turn causes him to cough a little. How sweet, he’s lucky his helmet comes with a voice modulator, so that none of his soldiers will be able to hear how well fucked their master’s throat has been tomorrow. “I… I’d like anything you want to give me, sir.”It’s a good answer. A clever answer. Much better than the one Jason gave him before when Slade asked if he felt he’d earned a reward for his good behaviour. Just more evidence of how valuable the kid could be if taught right, and not beaten into the ground for a madman’s amusement.“Anything I want, hm?” Leaning down, Slade treats Jason to a firm kiss as a reward for his answer. He can taste himself on his mouth, which is a flavour he always enjoys on any of his conquests. “Good boy. Then stand up.”It takes a couple tries for Jason to find his feet again. After so long on his hands and knees earlier, and in recent minutes on his knees only, his joints are bound to be stiff. He also refuses, again to Slade’s pleasure, to release his arms from where he’s restraining them himself behind his back.That’s another thing Slade enjoys: the way the kid restrains himself. As much as he likes to use cuffs or ropes on his partners when they’re into it, this unique method of Jason’s is so much more fun to play with. Mostly in the way of seeing how far Slade can push him before he loses his control and breaks it without permission, thereby leading to ever more creative games of punishment after.Once Jason’s on his feet, Slade gives his body an appreciative once over. Those lean, scarred muscles are something only he gets to see, and there’s beauty in the patterns of old pain there. Proof of Jason’s strength by showing all that he’s survived in his still relatively short life.“Get undressed, pants and underwear both,” he orders, “You can release your hands for it, but put them straight back once you’re done.”“Yes, sir.”The speed at which Jason follows this order would betray his eagerness, if his flushed skin and visibly hard cock didn’t already give it away. There’s nothing sensual about the way he undresses — kid isn’t a natural performer, unlike a certain other member of his family — but Slade appreciates the efficiency he uses instead, and how quickly Jason returns to the ready stance he taught him once he’s done. Feet set slightly apart and arms clamped behind his back.Reaching forward, he sets his hands on Jason’s hips, and needing the lightest touch only, guides the kid forward to straddle his lap.“S-sir,” Jason stutters, as his thighs are spread wide over his own, and Slade’s cock presses up against his ass. In sharp contrast to the kid, Slade is still almost fully dressed in a shirt and slacks, and he can easily imagine, smirking wickedly the whole time, how the sensation of fabric must feel against Jason’s skin, especially his own by now painfully erect length.“Don’t worry, kid, I won’t keep you waiting much longer.” Slade assures him, before starting to press light kisses against Jason’s throat. He took the liberty of hiding a small tube of lube down the side of the chair earlier, where it can easily be retrieved without either of them having to move much. “You’re being so very good for me now, after all.”Jason’s breath hitches at the words as much as the sensation of his lips, and audibly keening, he leans forward into the touch, begging as much with the arch of his body as with his mouth. Which is just fine by Slade, as he coats the fingers of his right hand liberally with the lube and then slides them between the kid’s asscheeks.He isn’t slow with this part. No more so than it takes to ensure Jason won’t be in a whole mess of pain when Slade fucks him anyway. The kid can take it, Slade knows he can, and he murmurs as such in Jason’s ear as he works first one, then two, then three fingers inside him, watching how easily Jason writhes and moans at every step.He’s so damn responsive, that’s another thing Slade enjoys about him. The kid’s starved for touch as much as he is every other kind of positive attention, and as a result readily soaks up whatever Slade has to give him like a sponge, no matter how small or insignificant the gesture. It makes him wish he’d fucked the boy for the first time sooner, but never mind. He has him now, and Jason, at least for the moment, isn’t going anywhere.“Please,” he’s panting into Slade’s ear, “Please, sir, please… I—I want...”“Yes?” Slade pulls his head back to look Jason in the face, and for a moment regrets his choice to blindfold him. He’d like to see those bright, expressive eyes of his as he begs. “What do you want?”Jason hesitates, just briefly, obviously trying to sense if there’s another trap here, too, or possibly just wrestling with what’s left of his pride before he goes ahead and blurts it out. “F-for you to fuck me. Fuck, please, I can’t…” he rocks back against Slade’s fingers desperately, “Please, I need it.”Oh yes, Slade can imagine he does. This scene’s been running for almost an hour and a half now, during which time — except for his fingers in him here — Slade’s barely touched him. It’s tempting to go ahead and mess with Jason a little more just to hear more of that desperation in his voice, but then again, he’s also been well behaved throughout, and Slade did promise not to keep him waiting much longer.“Well, since you asked so prettily…”Slade takes his fingers out from his body, for which Jason predictably whines in protest even though he knows he’ll soon be getting something better in their place. An easy lift of the boy’s hips gets him in position, and Slade chuckles throatily at the first soft gasp that falls from Jason’s lips as he first rubs the head of his cock against his entrance, then pushes it inside.“Think you can ride me, boy?” Slade asks him, his mouth brushing the red silk that covers Jason’s eyes. “Or do you need some help? Answer me honestly, now.”It takes Jason a moment, as he shakes both above and around Slade. The tight heat of his body grips his cock exquisitely as he thinks it over, then weakly shakes his head. “I… fuck. I’d need… need my hands.”“Hm,” Slade pretends to consider it, while roving his eye across the bunched muscles of Jason’s shoulders and arms. He’d rather not have the kid losing his balance and falling off him while they’re in the middle of it, and for what he has planned, the more contact they have the better. “I suppose I can allow that. Put them on my shoulders, boy, nowhere else. And I want you to start off nice and slow, understand?”The hitch in Jason’s breath tells him he’d rather have anything but nice and slow, but that’s not his choice to make and he knows it. He just nods instead, “Yes, sir.” and releases his hands from behind him, wincing as those muscles are allowed to move again finally after long minutes in the same position. They come to rest lightly on Slade’s shoulders at first, then grip tighter into the fabric of his shirt when no reprimand is forthcoming.“That’s it,” Slade encourages him. “Now move.”The first roll of Jason’s hips is unsteady as he works his body back into cooperating with him, but soon enough, the motion smooths out with every rise and fall that follows after. Slade allows himself to settle back in his chair to enjoy the show, while also running his hands across the tempting expanse of Jason’s skin. Thighs, hips, waist, chest, back… he makes sure to pay attention to each, including their numerous scars. The only thing he doesn’t touch is Jason’s cock, red and heavy with need as it is.“Slade,” the boy moans, and when Slade pinches one of his nipples painfully hard in warning: “Sir!”There’s sweat running down his body, darkening the fabric of the blindfold across his eyes. Leaning in close, Slade licks a bead of it off his neck, then follows the trail upwards to his jaw. It’s easy to bite down on the flesh just beneath it. Easy to suck and worry at it with his teeth, until a large and obvious bruise will undoubtedly form tomorrow.When the kid goes out to kill the Bat, he’ll do it with Slade’s marks left on his skin and the memory of Slade fucking him lingering in the back of his mind. And maybe the Bat won’t see it through the uniform, but it will still be there. A small, private fuck you to the man who’s been such a giant pain in Slade’s ass the last ten years.With that in mind, he repeats the process, this time further down the kid’s neck, and lightly slaps Jason on the ass when his movements stutter because of it.“Sir, please.”“You like that, kid?” Slade pulls back, licking his lips. “You like it when I mark you up?”Jason chokes a little, but nods as the red flush on his cheeks deepens, which also has the adverse effect of making the ugly, branded ‘J’ on the left side of his face stand out more. He’s starting to struggle now as he fucks himself on Slade’s cock, thighs visibly straining with the effort to keep the pace slow and steady, and while watching this, Slade gets an idea.“You want more of it?” he lowers his voice, to something husky and almost tender as he licks his tongue over the bruises he’s already left. “Want me to cover you head to toe in them? I could do that if you want, make sure that the only person you’ll ever feel on your skin again is me. Or maybe you just want me to get on with this, hm? Fuck you harder, let you come?”Jason’s head turns, his mouth seeking out Slade’s own, but Slade doesn’t allow it to connect. He pulls his head back, before grasping Jason’s chin and forces the kid to look at him despite the blindfold. “Well?”Jason hisses at the grip, and for a moment, Slade can see his lips start to curl in brief defiance that is quickly sucked back down by the hungry pool of need beneath it. They’re already well past the point where Jason will try to go back to fighting with him; now the kid just wants to be satisfied.“I don’t… I… all of it, please. Just touch me, sir, please just touch me.”And that Slade is perfectly able and willing to do.He tilts Jason’s face up, granting him the kiss he was seeking earlier, But then, in a deviation from anything they’ve done before now, moves his mouth over to his left cheek, pressing another kiss — lighter and more gentle — directly over the brand mark there.The effect it has on the kid is instantaneous. Jason freezes in place, and for a moment doesn’t even breathe. Not as Slade repeats the kiss, then runs his tongue over the mark, feeling the raised texture of the scar tissue there.“Slade…” he whispers, voice hushed and fragile, and for once Slade doesn’t tell him off for not calling him ‘sir’. No, he just keeps at it, until he feels Jason start to tremble against him and a sound that’s almost a sob exit his lips. “Please,”“Tell me again,” Slade rumbles against his skin, as he finally slides one of his hands close to Jason’s cock where it stands red and weeping precum against his stomach, “What you’re going to do tomorrow.”“W-what?”The confusion in Jason’s voice is evident, and Slade smirks as he just barely brushes the nail of his thumb against the head of the length at the same time as using his other hand to grip Jason’s hip in a way that stops him from moving, making it clear to the kid he won’t be allowing him to come without an answer. “Tomorrow. Tell me what’s going to happen.”“I…” Jason gasps, brow crinkling underneath the blindfold. His bangs are virtually glued to his forehead with sweat now, and his lips lovely and raw from both Slade’s kisses and the blowjob. “I’m going to… going to kill him.”“Kill who?”“Slade—”“Kill who?”“Fuck! I…” Slade thrusts his hips upwards as Jason hisses, “Batman.” beneath his breath like it’s the foulest curse. “I’m going to kill Batman.”“That’s right.” He smirks again, kissing Jason in reward as well as lightly squeezing his cock. “You are. You’re going to kill him. But before that…”“Slade, please, I can’t—”“Before that?”Jason’s fingers dig harder into his shoulders. “I’m going to make him suffer. Make him hurt. Everything he’s done to me — oh god — he’s going to hurt for it.”Slade smirks as he wraps his hand more firmly around him, finally giving Jason a fraction of the friction he’s been craving all evening, but more importantly the praise.“Good boy,” he croons into Jason’s ear as now starts to fuck his cock up into him. “Good, good boy. Do you want your reward now?”“Yes,” There’s no hesitation in Jason’s voice as he begs, “Please, Slade! Please, I can’t… I can’t take anymore, I need—”“I know.” Turning his head, Slade licks under the damp edge of the blindfold to hear Jason whimper. “I know exactly what you need. Now hold onto me, we’re going to the floor.”He does so, moving the grip he has on Slade’s shoulders to around his neck as Slade slides his own hands under Jason’s thighs and lifts him, as easily as he would a feather, from the chair to the floor. In the process his cock slips free of him, but that’s easily rectified the moment they’re settled down, and Jason cries out even louder this time when Slade pushes his way back in. So hard that Slade feels his nails bite into the back of his neck, which is fine by him. He’s always liked a little pain from his partners.“That’s it, kid,” he purrs, “Give me all you’ve got.”Slade gives Jason no further warning before beginning to fuck him. Harder and faster than he allowed the boy to do himself. As hard and fast, in fact, as he did back in the tunnel the first time, and it’s worth it for the way Jason comes alive underneath him. The way he arches up and tosses his head back against the carpet, and his fingers drag long scratches down the length of Slade’s back through his shirt while giving a low, keening cry as Slade sucks another bruising mark into the skin of his neck.Jason’s so damn tight around him. Always is, what with how infrequently they have the opportunity to do this, and while he’d never say it out loud, Slade can at least admit to himself that he’s become greedier for it than he should be. Too greedy perhaps, to pretend that money is and vengeance against the kid’s former mentor are still the only motivators keeping him here.But that doesn’t matter right now. Right now, the only thing that matters is that they both get their rocks off, and Jason goes into tomorrow totally, completely still dedicated to his goal..Wrapping his hand back around the kid’s cock, Slade roughly squeezes it, and with just a couple of strokes in time with his thrusts inside him, has Jason coming apart beneath him.It’s a pleasure to watch the way his face contorts at the pleasure in that moment, expression so strained it almost seems to border on agony. The kid yells, too. Screams, actually, and it’s a good thing Slade made sure this apartment building has no other occupants on the floor below them, otherwise they’d probably think someone was being murdered. As it is, he just grins savagely to himself at the wet heat of the come on his fingers and the way Jason’s body tightens up around him, pulling a rumbling growl of enjoyment from his own throat.He could hold out longer if he wanted to, of course, but there’s no real need. Slade’s achieved his main goal for the evening, and the satisfaction of that is easily enough to tip him over the edge alongside the physical pleasure. He thrusts harder, deeper — as deep into Jason as he can possibly get, then roughly kisses him, ravaging his mouth until the moment is done.“Slade…” Jason says weakly, limbs loose and weak when, a few seconds later, he starts to pull away.“Don’t worry, kid,” Slade immediately soothes, reaching up and tugging a hand roughly through his hair. “I’m still here. Now, let me take care of you.” The aftercare for Jason is relatively simple compared to some of the other people Slade’s played with in his life. He just wants to be held, wants contact as he comes out of the deep state of surrender he’s fallen into, so that he feels safe while doing it. A slow process when done right, but by this point Slade has become something of an expert.First things first, he takes the blindfold off. After warning Jason, of course, so that he won’t be unexpectedly blinded by the sudden change in light. Then he lifts the kid up in his arms again, allowing him to nuzzle close while Slade carries him to the bathroom and gets a bath running.He’s still clinging by the time the tub’s filled, and when Slade finally strips off his shirt, pants and underwear. The hot water does the trick, though, because as soon as they’re settled (Slade stretched out along the length of the bath with Jason laid back against his chest) he shudders faintly, and his eyelids flutter as he shifts his head up to look at him. “Slade…”Slade hums an acknowledgement. He has one hand resting against the scarred expanse of Jason’s stomach, while the other combs back through his hair. “Still here, kid. You feeling better?”A brief moment of contemplation precedes a shallow nod. “Yeah,” Jason says roughly, voice rough and ruined just the way Slade knew it would be as he tries to clear his throat. “Yeah, I’m… good. I’m good.”“You sure?” Slade rubs his fingers in firm circles against his stomach. “Any part of it you want to talk about?”Kid hadn’t used his safeword throughout. Hadn’t even used the amber warning though he knew it was an option, but still, it doesn’t hurt to be sure. The more Slade knows after each session, the better he knows how far he can push Jason the next time.Jason thinks the question over for a good minute. “What you did with…” He seems to be struggling to find the words, and Slade is content not to push him. “My scar, you…”It doesn’t take a genius to figure out which scar he’s talking about. “Did you like it?”“Why’d you do it?” Jason asks him instead of answering. His eyes are still hazy beneath the thick, black sweep of his eyelashes, but the way they try to avoid Slade’s gaze now tells him everything he needs to know in regards to why he’s being asked that question.Slade lets his fingers tug at Jason’s hair now, and immediately the kid’s eyes shutter again, before a soft moan escapes his lips. Not aroused, exactly, but relaxed, showing how close he still is to sinking back into that submissive state he was in.“You want the honest answer?” Jason gingerly nods. “Because I wanted to. Because it’s a part of you, and I know you hate it, even though you shouldn’t.”“It’s ugly.” he protests, “That monster—”Slade tugs his hair again before Jason can tense up, and the way he shudders and melts back against him again just from that tiny gesture alone will never stop being gratifying. “Didn’t stop you. Didn’t kill you. You’re stronger than him, kid. Stronger than either of them, and you needed that reminder tonight, before you go into tomorrow. You survived. You’re a survivor, and when all’s said and done, you’re the one who’s going to be walking away from this, not either of them.”The clown’s already dead, and soon Wayne will be, too. Just so long as Jason continues to hold true.“You really believe that?” Jason look is searching, but Slade can hear the desperate tinge of hope in his voice beneath the scepticism, and wastes no time in pouncing on it.“I know it,” he says, punctuating his words with a kiss to Jason’s brow. “And when the Bat’s body is cooling in the gutter, I’m going to be right there beside you, kid. Basking in your triumph.”“My triumph.” Jason repeats, almost to himself. Then louder says, “I’m going to kill him.”“Yes.”“I’m going to make him suffer for what he did to me.”“You are.” Slade smiles savagely against Jason’s forehead, before kissing him again. “But for now, let’s just enjoy the moment. You did good tonight, kid, and you’ve got a big day tomorrow. You need your rest.”Under any other circumstances, that wouldn’t be enough to get him to settle down, but here, blissfully fucked out to the point where he no longer has the energy to overthink, Jason doesn’t protest. He just tucks his head back down against Slade’s chest and closes his eyes as the hot water laps around his waist, soothing away the aches in his body as much as the sex dealt with those in his mind.In about five minutes, Slade will get him out of the tub and take him to bed, but for now, he too follows his own advice and just enjoys the moment. The feeling of a young, pretty thing curled up against him, as well as the satisfaction of a job well done.
10642989	Prometheus	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Kara Danvers, Cat Grant, Carter Grant Senior, Carter Grant, Katherine Grant, Jimmy Olsen", "Fandom": "Supergirl (TV 2015)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by orphan_account", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-16T00:00:00", "words": "3,387", "Additional Tags": "Supercat Week, abilities, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Mental Health Issues, Autistic Carter Grant", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Kara Danvers/Cat Grant, Katherine Grant/Carter Grant Senior", "Series": "we are the captains of our souls", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/F, F/M, Gen", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“What do you see when your soulmate is far away from you, daddy?” Kitty asks after the last page of Rapunzel turns, the hardcover shutting with a soft thump. Her father chuckles.“I don’t see anything, sweetheart,” he says, Brooklyn accent familiar and comforting. “You mother and I don’t see through each other’s eyes like Rapunzel and Phillip. When I’m near her – not far away – my feelings are…amplified. It’s very strange – you know how daddy feels, yeah?”“Like there’s a blanket over your head. So when you’re near mom, you can feel properly?”“I already feel properly,” he corrects her, placing Rapunzel on the side-table. “The blanket just goes away. Everything gets very personal all of a sudden – my emotions get stronger and my physical feeling gets more sensitive. It was scary the first time it happened. Your mother was the same as me, but a little different and she always tried to run when it started.”“And you chased her! Like Cinderella and Prince Florian!” Kitty sits up, grinning. “Mommy’s always shakes her head when she tells me about it, but it’s like what you said to me before, she shakes her head because she thinks it’s silly.”“Mmm, yeah,” her father gently pushes her off his lap, standing. “Remind me to tell you about the corduroy incident when you’re older. Now, my little Kitty-cat, bedtime.”“But dad-”Cat never had any so-called ‘unusual trait’ when she was growing up. She wasn’t colour-blind, she didn’t have any sensitivity or strange tolerance that would disappear when her soulmate was nearby. She was the epitome of normal – and that grated on her. All around her, there were people with identifiable abilities or weaknesses. Only Lois was the same and they hated the world together, for a time, fucking in the privacy of their shared apartment before Lois met Superman and came to understand why she loved the sky so much.“Being able to fly isn’t something you want to be able to do,” Cat later tells Carter, when he declares that he wants to fly like Lois Lane. “Lois isn’t invulnerable like Superman – if she flies, she has to stay side-by-side with the caped wonder in case she suddenly falls out of the sky. Also, she doesn’t have the Kryptonian strength to pull herself out of wind-currents. How do you think she dislocated her shoulder?”Carter then, of course, gets terrified of flying, through no fault of his own. Cat sometimes wonders what meeting his soulmate would do to him. Being on the spectrum isn’t wrong – it makes him Carter and she worries. Her own parents both suffered terribly before making something of it, discovering new methods to cope. To cope. Being soulmates just made their personality disorders…for all her skills and talents, Cat can’t describe it properly. She just hopes with all her heart that being autistic isn’t something that finding his soulmate will ‘fix’.Kara impresses something in her. Kara knows she hasn’t made a difference yet, but she wants to, she wants to find herself and do something good. That’s the kind of confidence Cat can do something with. Cat can build a person out of that, or rather, what Kara can build herself out of. She has potential.Potential is good.When Leslie attacks and Supergirl comes to her rescue, Cat sees it for the first time. Supergirl is brave, young and determined – much like her assistant. Cat thinks back, later, on all the instances she’s seen Supergirl up close and personal and comes to a stark conclusion, one that leaves her strangely confounded.“I said you had potential. This was not what I had in mind,” she mutters to herself at home, Carter in bed and Supergirl’s picture on her desktop, staring up at the sky. “Really? I had an alien for an assistant and I didn’t notice? Where is my head? Has it fallen down a rabbit-hole?”It must be fate, however, when she sees a column in The Daily Planet announcing Lois Lane’s marriage to Clark Kent.“Clark Kent? Oh, that fox-” Cat would go on to bemoan the loss of such a fine specimen, but then she glances at her computer screen again, Kara’s picture alongside Supergirl’s. “Clark Kent. Clark…Kent.” Cat has already made up most of her mind before she manages to bring up a picture of Clark’s handsome face and Superman’s. “No. Now that is unfair.” A brief second passes, before Cat then remembers another fun fact. “Kara requested time off work this weekend – by all the Pulitzers I’ve won, no! Supergirl and Superman are cousins!”Cat groans, putting her hands on her face.“I can’t believe you, Keira! You went to Lois Lane’s wedding? I feel betrayed, Keira, betrayed.” Cat shuts her laptop, thoughts running through her mind, ping-ponging back and forth. “Kara went to Lois Lane’s wedding. Kara is Supergirl. Clark is Superman. Clark and Lois are soulmates. Kara went to Lois Lane’s wedding. Ugh…” Cat glances at her framed photo of Carter on her bedside table. “You know what the worst part is? I can’t talk to her about this. I can’t confront her in a glorious fury about attending my nemesis’ wedding. For all I know, she was just taking some time off, probably with that sister of hers.”Cat goes to shut her eyes, but then she sees the flash of red through her open bedroom window. Sitting up slowly, Cat gets up, stalking over, raising her eyebrows.“Are you spying on me, Kara?” There’s a long, long moment, before Cat glances a bit further up and sees Supergirl floating near the wall, clutching the end of her cape. “Get down to my level. I am not craning my neck any longer.”Supergirl floats down, floating a little outwards, before Cat’s unimpressed look has her coming within touching distance.“You have some explaining to do, Miss-I-Went-To-Lois’-Wedding.”The alien grimaces. “She’s really not that bad.”“Oh? Well, I invite her to tell you about the night that she rudely broke up with me, just because she started sharing Superman’s power of flight – oh wait, that would be Clark’s power of flight, wouldn’t it?”“You and Lois were together?” Is the younger blonde’s reply, causing Cat to roll her eyes before she moves backwards, making space.“Come inside.”“I really shouldn’t…” Supergirl says, floating in anyway, lightly touching the ground, eyeing her plush green carpet. “I wouldn’t have taken you for green. White, maybe.”“Carter chose it. It reminds him of moss.” Cat elaborates, before shutting her window, the cold breeze ruffling her silk chemise.“Um, before we talk further, I think you have the right to know,” Supergirl starts, looking at her awkwardly…pityingly? “Lois, she didn’t- she couldn’t fly until she made out with him.”It takes a second to process, but then it’s like a punch in the gut. “Oh,” she breathes, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Do soulmates work differently when it comes to aliens, then?”“Y-yeah,” Supergirl brushes her hair behind her ear nervously, still holding her cape, grip visibly tightening. “Human soulmates find each other through detection of hormones each person puts out. Not all other beings have the glands to detect them. Kryptonians need to, uh…”“Kiss.” Cat gets out, practically forcing the word to leave her mouth. “So you might have difficulty finding them then, yes?”“Well, actually, we have our own way,” she replies, voice light and so full of nerves, Cat wonders at how she hasn’t had some sort of panic-attack yet. “We get…there’s a nicer word for it in Kryptonese, but translated, I suppose ‘obsessed’ would be appropriate.”“Oh?” Cat blinks, thinking back to earlier times, when Clark Kent would look at Lois with recognisable longing. There had been so many bets on whether Lois would snark about it in front of him – he’d always turned red so easily – but she never did. She was strangely nice about it, too nice now that Cat thinks about it.The “I’m sorry” interrupts her thoughts.“What?” She snaps back to the present, frowning at Supergirl.“I’m sorry,” the other woman repeats, “I’ve been lying to you for so long about who I am, what I am. I suppose you don’t really want an alien on your staff.”“No,” Cat says, before taking in her expression and belatedly realising it could be seen as an agreement. “Of course, I mean, I do want you on my staff, Kara. Don’t think otherwise. You’re brilliant and I’ve never had a better assistant.”The tension in Kara’s body visibly drops, her cape twisting back into position as she drops it, breathing a sigh of relief. “Thank-you.”“Think nothing of it,” Cat shakes her head, before coming forwards. “One thing though, before you leave. You might call it idle curiosity.” Kara’s eyes widen as she steps into her personal space. “Also, getting back at Lois.”“What?” Kara asks, voice worried.Cat eyes her assistant, thinking of the implications. “This doesn’t have to mean anything, but I would like to kiss you, Kara, if you don’t mind.” Kara stares. Cat swallows. “You don’t have to. It doesn’t need to mean anything at all-”“Yes.”Cat pauses, “Yes?”Kara surprises her then, hands coming up to her jaw, cradling it gently as their lips touch. Her lips are smooth and Cat somehow isn’t surprised by the taste of sugar as her tongue dips into her mouth. Cat clutches her skirt, nails digging into the skin below, but then Kara pulls away, squeaking and putting a hand over her mouth. Cat flushes at the pink smudge she’s left behind before discreetly wiping around her own bottom lip.“That was very…lovely, Kara.”“I- ah-” Kara steps back sharply, looking to the window. “I gotta go! There- there’s a cat up a tree!” Before Cat has any chance to reply to her frankly strange comment, Kara rushes to the window, opening it again and disappearing into the night.“What in the blazes…” Cat looks out the window, nonplussed. Shaking her head, she goes to her bathroom, trying not to think about…what just happened and how she had liked it far more than she should. It meant nothing and anyway, what harm can one kiss do other than inspire far more awkwardness at the office? I hate awkwardness.Cat grimaces at herself in her mirror. Dammit. Surprisingly, nothing comes of it. Kara vaguely avoids her for half the morning before getting back into the swing of things as Cat deliberately shows no sign of recognition for what happened the evening before. She makes no fun comment about any ‘super’ abilities Kara has or act any different from normal.Normal.It’s just a normal day.The day after that is normal and the day after that, too. The whole week is normal, average. Cat doesn’t even complain at Kara’s strange absences, because unlike what other people might think, she can deal without having an assistant – having Kara just makes it less stressful, both on Cat and on the people that interact with her rather than her metaphorical door-guard. No-one gets into her office without going through Kara, unless it’s an emergency or they’re a shareholder and even then, Kara is a very willing and able wall.It’s only when she’s having a meeting with said shareholders that something goes wrong.“-numbers are down, there’s been no incident with Supergirl and any of her enemies for so long-”“And do you want there to be incidents?” Cat interrupts, voice icy. “Do you want Supergirl to get into fights with over-powered humans and aliens with vendettas? Every time Supergirl gets into a giant fight with one of them, the city suffers side-effects. People die, property is damaged and The Tribune covers more than just its poster-girl, might I remind you!” It’s then that Cat feels an itch in her eyes, a terrible heat, just as the shareholders back-peddle, getting up and stumbling back.“Oh my god!”“Cat,” James is the only one to step forwards, stepping in between her and the man who had gained her ire. “Look to the window, to somewhere that doesn’t have another building in the way.”Cat doesn’t know why he’s telling her this, but she squeezes her eyes shut as the itch turns into pain and by god it hurts. Am I having an aneurysm? She grips James’ arm, gasping.“What the hell is this?” She hisses, before opening her eyes – red light pouring out and burning her carpet before she feels her energy drain beyond measure, the pain in her eyes disappearing as she falls unconscious.Cat wakes to a concrete ceiling and an ache in her back from a crappy hospital bed. Blinking rapidly, squinting at the bright lighting, Cat looks around, glass windows revealing a busy base full of busy people, all with at least one handgun on their person.“You’re awake,” comes a relieved voice and Cat snaps her gaze right, finding Kara in her superhero-getup on a chair. “Thank Rao. They didn’t know when or if you would-”“What happened to me?” Cat interrupts, “Where am I? How did I get here?”“You- you used heat vision without meaning to. It drained your energy and vitamin D levels very, very quickly. James called out to me using his superwatch so I didn’t come as Kara Danvers to help out and I brought you here, to the DEO. It’s the city base, where my sister was recently transferred. It’s new and shiny.”“New and shiny,” Cat repeats, before shaking her head in disbelief, “How could I use heat vision, Kara? It’s impossible!”“Not…no, it’s not,” Kara breathes in deeply, “You’re able to use Solar Flare the same way that Lois can fly.”Once again, Kara renders Cat momentarily speechless, her shock causing her to open and close her mouth, words unable to come to her mouth.“You’ve been under for a while,” Kara continues, “And by a while, I mean a month. Carter’s father refused to come home from his cruise to me and my family have been looking after him. My mom came from Midvale and everything. I’ve been taking a break from Supergirl-ing as well, a bit. I’ve been busy making sure CatCo’s okay. The major shareholders after you wanted their piece, while you were gone, but someone made it a protocol that I take over in your absence.” She gives Cat a look, before continuing. “It’s been stressful, but I’ve been doing most of the work for years. It’s more signing things off that makes me nervous. I really, really hope that I did a good job.”“I trust you,” Cat mumbles, sitting up and spreading her hands on the starched covers of the bed. “I always trusted you.”“…even when I mucked up with Adam?”“Even then.” Cat swallows before repeating, “I always trusted you. The fact that you never truly trusted me isn’t the issue I have right now though – just that you didn’t tell me. I could have been angry anywhere. I could have been pissed at home, I could have hurt Carter with this. When did you realise we were soulmates?”“When we kissed,” Kara replies, guilt drenching her voice. “I know what could have happened. I thought about it- I still think about it, weeks later.”“Good,” Cat says sharply, before sucking in a breath. “I need to see my son, please.”“I’ll go get him, if that’s alright.”“Yes, just- just go. Get him, then leave.”“Daddy?” Kitty tugs on her father’s jacket, “Daddy, where are you going?”“Away, sweetheart. Everything is too much right now. Daddy is sick, very sick and I’m making your mother unhappy. She’s heartbroken, kiddo.”Kitty looks up at him with confusion, not understanding the liquid sheen on his eyes or the shake in his hands.“You don’t look sick. When are you coming back?”“I’m not coming back.”“But…” Kitty tugs on his jacket again, “but you have to come back! You have to- you have to tell me about the colder incident!”“Corduroy incident,” he croaks out, shaking his head and pushing her away roughly. “Get Katherine to tell you. Now get back to bed, Catherine Grant, before I wallop your hide.”Cat never saw her father after he left and she never found out what the corduroy incident was. Her mother told her when he died and she cried for what seemed like forever. It wouldn’t be until she went to college that she would find his grave, having not attended his funeral nor been told where it was, in any case. She cried again when she found the marble headstone and cried again when Adam was born, because she didn’t have the courage to name him after his grandfather. It would only be later, after Cat finally found some peace that she would name her son Carter.“Why?” Katherine asks, when she visits them in hospital, just like last time – except, this time, not telling Cat that she had a future, that Adam wouldn’t let her have that future.“Because I loved him and I miss him,” Cat replies, “Do you?”Katherine doesn’t reply for a long, long, long moment. When she does, Cat isn’t even hurt by her no. Katherine had never felt things like Cat, just like Carter didn’t – but at least Carter had tried. Even though Cat shouldn’t feel bitter that Katherine didn’t try harder – because it’s not her fault, it’s just how her brain works, what makes Katherine Grant Katherine Grant – she does. When her son Carter turns out to be autistic too, Cat makes sure he knows he’s loved by both of them, but that he also knows that not everyone can show it or feel it as strongly as others might.Somehow, even without Cat’s assurances, Carter knows that Kara loves him, that Eliza adores him and that Alex will always help him with his homework. He trusts them.They haven’t told him that Kara’s his mother’s soulmate and he trusts them anyway.“Can I kiss you?”Kara pauses, side-eyeing her as she places Cat’s tray of sushi down in front of her. Cat shifts in her seat slightly, aligning herself with her former-assistant.“I suppose so,” Kara leans down, pressing her lips to Cat’s softly. Cat reaches up, holding her in place with one hand as she takes Kara’s forgotten glasses from her desk, placing them on her gently as she pulls away. “Oh, thank-you.”“Ricky was looking at you funny earlier.”“Robin was looking at me funny earlier because he saw the beginning of my tattoo. He confronted me in the break-room. Thanks for that, too.” Kara plucks at the blue summer dress lightly. “The back is lower than I’m used to and I can’t wear my cardigan because it’s too hot.”“I like your arms,” Cat smirks, running a nail down her bicep. “Everyone else in the office likes them too.”Kara shakes her head, standing up straight. “You’re supposed to be possessive.”“I am – that’s what this is for,” Cat reaches into her lead-lined drawer, a present from Alex, taking out a box. Kara freezes as Cat spins on her chair, crossing her ankles lightly, opening the box and sliding it across the edge of her desk. “Will-”“Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes-” Kara squeals, twirling excitedly before leaning down and kissing her enthusiastically. Cat smiles into the kiss as James’ camera goes off from where he stands in front of her sofa, his work spread across the table in a faux-meeting style. Kara immediately looks over to her friend, eyes widening. “You knew?”“I had an inkling,” James replies, “May I be the first to offer my congratulations.”“Alex beat you to the punch,” Cat reveals as Kara takes the Krypton-style wedding bracelet from the velvet box. “She made it for me. It’s an alloy from Krypton – from the top of your pod.”“Oh Rao, really? I knew that something had happened to it, but I didn’t think it had been broken on purpose.” Kara puts it on, blinking away tears. “Do you have one too?”“I thought I’d leave the decision to you,” Cat smirks, “If that means you have to propose to me, too, well then – I’d be very impressed.”
10659543	Sad Sack	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "Other", "Characters": "missing loved ones - Character, Edge found his was to US, Edge, blue berry, UF Papyrus - Character, US sans, Underswap - Character, underfell - Character, Mentions of - Character, US Papy, UF Sans - Character, Sad - Character, dinner - Character, shops - Character, snowmonsters, long day - Character", "Fandom": "Undertale (Video Game)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by SkinnyElephant", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-18T00:00:00", "words": "1,701", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "None, Brotherly Sans and Papyrus, Blueberry and Edge, platonic - Relationship", "Series": "Short stories", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Papyrus spun around looking for the other, still not used to this town the other, shorter skeleton called home he flinched at the sight of another monster nearing him. The world he previously lived in kept him continuously looking over his shoulder, should the monster behind him attack. He usually had been looking out for his brother's sake before his own but after that human came tromping around his world and destroyed many monsters there he was slowly forgetting what that felt like. A bear looking monster raised out their paw, in hopes of calming the skeleton monster. Papyrus flinched back and swatted at the hand. The bear monster didn't scoff or run off, the monsters in Snowdin knew of Papyrus and where he had come from. Well not exactly that, the townsfolk knew that papyrus came from a bad place and he was weary of the people he let near him. Not that his past kept the other skeleton from hanging on him like a life preserver. It sounds rediculous, right? Some one hanging off of him? Relying on HIM? He'd scoff at himself if it weren't for he was hanging off the other too. He would never say it aloud. He found himself often curled around the other at night, listening to the other's cries for his brother's return. He's ashamed to say he has teared up and even shed a tear while his friend was hurting. He missed his brother too, Sans the bastard. How could he leave him? Doesn't he know he's needed here? The sharp skeleton would love to remember how he got here, this world, but looking back on the state of disarray his version of this world was in before he left he easily gave up the silly mission. He only knows what the smaller version of his brother could tell him and it wasn't much. Sans, the small skeleton, tells him that he awoke one day to angry sounds from the basement and objects crashing against walls. Papyrus has collapsed before sans had entered the cold basement, leaving the other to ponder how Papyrus went about getting to this world. Sans ended up coming up with some sciencey mumbo jumbo and left it at that. Papyrus was never good with the science stuff, that was his brother's bit. He spun around once more, his friend nowhere in sight. He called out his name a few times in hopes of getting a response. Even went so low as to call out 'Marco!'. Monsters passed by him in a rush, some had pity written on their faces and others ignored him and his anxiety completely. He wouldn't admit it but he worried for the small one's safety, even after knowing that this place was safer than he's used to. People looked as he called out for the smaller one, the people talked and stared and joked. His first instinct was to summon bones and threaten the monsters making him feel so lost. His second thought was to run home and hide in the closet but he choked down enough of his anxiety to continue his search. He never was very friendly but the other skeleton seemed to weasel his way into Papyrus' mind. When Papyrus had first arrived in this world, he was hesitant to even speak never mind give his name. But seeing the way the smaller skeleton looked at him, with admiration and immediate trust, he couldn't help but answer the sans' questions. Sans reminded himself of his own brother, not the swearing or the need to eat filthy fast food, but the look in his eyes when he spoke of his brother and the knowledge that Papyrus could do anything he put his mind to. It would be a lie if he said that he didn't care for the monster like he did his own brother. The sans also had a knack for running off like his own brother did. Papyrus ran all over snowdin, searching behind buildings and through trees when he eventually made it to the woods. THERE! In the distance was a small skeleton with a blue bandana tied neatly around his neck. It didn't measure up to his beautiful red scarf by any means but it was enough to recognize through the falling snow. Papyrus saw the usually joyous sans kneeing in the snow, Was he hurt? Who was papyrus going to dust today? He was always quick to jump to conclusions. "Sans" Papyrus jogged up behind the kneeing monster, a disgruntled look rested on his face while he continued to scold "Sans what are you doing out here? Don't you know you'll fall ill..." He tried to speak harshly to sans, it never worked though because of the skeleton, no matter what world, had a way of getting what he wanted, but upon laying eyes on craft sans was making with the snow he saw a shorter, hunched over version of himself in a snow monster. The snow monster offered a lazy grin and empty eye sockets the other skeleton managed to hollow out. The sweatshirt it wore bulged out with the heavy amounts of snow piled on and the shorts he had been known to wear fell straight down to the ground. Probably more of a stabilizer to keep the snow creation standing tall, as opposed to falling forward. The shoes at the creation's feet consisted of two lumps of poorly packed snow. He was in awe, he couldn't believe the time and effort that was put into it, he stayed silent, admiring the art until the smaller skeleton addressed him. "It's papy" Sans sniffled, continuing to pack snow into the torso "We used to do this when I was younger, make snow monsters, He'd always make a tall lump of snow and write 'Papyrus' on it" He laughed through a sniffle. "What a lazybones" a sad laugh covered up a small sob. He outwardly blamed his runny nose on the cold, for the Magnificent sans is too cool to cry but Papyrus knew that skeletons couldn't feel the temperature change. Papyrus had no words to offer. The careful creation of this monster, in memory of his brother, gave him no way to praise the creation or tell the small sans about the memories he'd once shared with his brother; doing the exact same thing. Listening to the choked sobs and sniffles of the other he plopped down on his bottom, long legs sprawled to either side of his body, and dug at the snow. His gloves would quickly soak up the water that melted from the snow but he thought nothing of it. After hours of silence and restarting he found perfection in the snowy statue of his brother. The eyes Papyrus had created had small balls of snow to represent his brother's pupils. He used a stick to recreate the crack that once marred his skull. The torso of his brother was smoothed down to look more lifelike, the statue posed with its hands in its sweatshirt and hunched slightly; his head down as if searching for something as Papyrus' feet. The sky grew dark, signaling the end of the day, they stood back and looked upon their creations. Neither one saying anything to the other or about the creations. They stood for what felt like hours, finding the flaws in their statues and comparing them to the real monster, before Papyrus turned back towards the town. The silence had gone on too long for the monster, sad emotions really weren't his thing. He wanted away from this area before he created a scene. "Hows Lasagna for dinner?" He asked the smaller, leaving him to sit in the snow and continue damping his clothes. After no answer, not that he ever really expected one, he continued on about buying the necessary ingredients and warming the oven. His brother often used to speak about pre-heating being a myth to waste the precious heating oil. "Come along sans, dinner won't cook itself" He started towards the town, hoping to see the lights in the shop's windows telling him that it was still open. Sans wished he had the strength to walk into town and not look back at the things that made him sad. He most times, wished he was more like the taller, braver skeleton he'd come to love like he had Papy. Watching the taller skeleton get farther and farther from over his shoulder, he picked himself up and dragged his feet in the snow along to the edge of town, only looking back once to see the sculptures. He put on a brave face and turned his back to them, pausing before moving on. The sculptures would begin melting as the days went on, causing the snow monsters to slump in different ways, disfiguring their posture. Both the edgy Sans and the ever-grinning Papyrus would stand slouched, the cold freezing them over every night. Sans knew that they would one day fall apart, and disappear. Turning back into the slush and snow they were formed from. He also knew that his brother may one day slip from his mind and he'll continue to live on close to how he did before that human child found their way underground. He was okay with that, or he would be because his brother lived on in himself and the sharper version he promised himself to protect. "SANS" the grumpy Papyrus shouted, his arms crossed and face scrunched. "WHILE I AM VERY GREAT I AM UNABLE TO CARRY ALL OF THESE GROCERIES BY MYSELF" he blushed in the slightest. Asking for help was never his strong point. Sans found his eyes meeting the other's, his smile replaced its self on his face and he jogged towards the other. "Only if I get to help cook" Sans chuckled when the taller skeleton began his rant about perfection and how he could never become as great as the taller. Handing the small sans two of the five bags he felt a small hand make his way into his free one and squeeze. A small sigh left Papyrus, squeezing back, he marched off towards the house they now shared together.
10653906	There	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Robert Sugden, Noah Dingle, Charity Dingle, Mentioned Aaron", "Fandom": "Emmerdale", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by godamnarmsrace", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-17T00:00:00", "words": "819", "Additional Tags": "Fluff, Robert is a role model, Charity tests Robert, Robert Sugen is a soft lad who misses his husband", "Relationship": "Robert Sugden & Noah Dingle", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "My Tumblr Ask Love Reply Fics", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Gen, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Robert looked up from his lunch in the Woolpack to find Noah and Charity standing next to his table.“You look like shit,” Charity said drawing Robert’s attention to her.“Are you waiting for a response to that observation?” Robert snarked back feeling a little bad when he saw Noah flinch beside him.“He’s been working really hard and looking after Liv and me and…” Noah said look earnestly at his mother and Robert felt like an even bigger arse.“Why don’t you go in the backroom?” Charity suggested watching a red-faced Noah hurry away from them. “Someone should teach that kid that ‘children should be seen but not heard’ and not to be such a pain.”Robert let out a sigh, he didn’t even want to address the fact that the poor boy was like a frightened rabbit most of the time. Robert was pretty sure Noah had learnt that lesson early on, around the same time he realised he wasn’t his mum’s number one priority. “Did you actually want something?” he asked looking down at his food which had long since gone cold. He didn’t really want to eat but then he didn’t really want to be having this conversation either.“I was just going to say thanks for looking out for Noah the past couple of weeks,” Charity said sounding uncomfortable with the words coming out of her mouth.“He’s a good kid, and a good student too when he actually makes it to school,” Robert said picking up his fork and pushing around his food. He missed Aaron.“Well, he can’t be all that smart, to choose someone like you as a role model. He really seems to like you, what’s that about do ya think?” Charity asked with a sneer that barely penetrated Robert’s loneliness. He missed Liv.“Who should he have picked? You?” Robert asked with half a mind just to get up and leave. Hell, he even missed Chas. “I’ve told him he’ll always be welcome with Aaron, Liv and me at Mill.”“Why would he need to go to Mill?” Charity asked her tone suggesting confusion.She had his attention again. “Why wouldn’t he?” Robert asked floored that she had no idea about her own son’s insecurities and needs.“You shouldn’t get so comfortable in this family. It’s only a matter of time before Aaron sees what you’re really like,” Charity leant down into Robert’s personal space as if trying to intimidate him.Robert just laughed at her antics. “See that’s the thing, not really much of a threat that because Aaron already knows what I’m really like and he’s with me anyway. I know I don’t deserve it or him but he’s mine and for as long as he is I’m not going anywhere,” Robert took great pleasure in promising his intentions.Charity gave him a look that was both pissed and full of admiration for him, standing his ground with her. Must be a Dingle thing, he thought.“I’m sorry,” Noah said pulling Robert out of his musings about the Dingle clan.“What for?” he asked finally giving up and pushing his plate away from him. Vic would be pissed at him for not eating again but he just couldn’t stomach it right now.“Mum, and well whatever she said to you. Is there anything I can do? I know Aaron comes home tomorrow and you must have a lot to do without Liv here, I thought maybe I could…” Noah’s words were soft and all rushed together, his cheeks a rosy red of embarrassment and eagerness.Robert really felt for this kid. He could see himself reflected in Noah’s eyes more and more and he really just wanted to prevent him from making the same mistakes that Robert had. “Noah, mate what would really help me is if you went and did your homework,” Robert tried to gentle his words but he saw the moment Noah took it as just another dismissal. “Wait! I told your mum that you had a place at Mill with us if you wanted it.”“Why would you tell her that? She’ll be pissed at me now,” Noah looked on the verge of tears and Robert wasn’t sure why, just that he didn’t like to see the kid looking so crushed.“Maybe, or maybe she’ll realise that you are worth more of her time than she gives you, and if she doesn’t, well then at least she’ll know where you are when you’re around at ours,” Robert offered watching as Noah nodded his head in agreement and heading off to the backroom. Robert looked up and found Charity watching him and the look on her face wasn’t one he could decipher but he didn’t really care to. It would be an early night for him. The sooner he went to bed the sooner Aaron would be home and he wouldn’t be alone anymore.
10647807	Fallen Tears	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": "Multi", "Characters": "Zeref Dragneel, Meredy (Fairy Tail), Jellal Fernandes, Ultear Milkovich, Acnologia (Fairy Tail), Ajeel Ramal, Mirajane Strauss, Lisanna Strauss, Elfman Strauss, Makarov Dreyar, Laxus Dreyar, Gray Fullbuster, Mavis Vermillion, Cana Alberona", "Fandom": "Fairy Tail", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by pandaseatingmuffins", "chapters": "3/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-16T00:00:00", "words": "7,705", "Additional Tags": "multiple OCs - Freeform, OCs - Freeform, Ulfall Milkovich, Bisexual main character, girlxgirl, Not very much about romance, Plot, Underworld, Hell, Celestial spirit world, Alvarez - Freeform, too many tags, no regrets, OP OCs, Soulless Wanderer, Mature because of swearing and gore, more romance later on", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The doctor who had assisted with the birth smiled and lifted two baby girls wrapped in a blue and lavender in his arms. He then handed them to the new mother, who was crying with tears of joy.The woman cradled them close to her heart and sobbed, smiling, at the most beautiful things she had ever seen. The doctors running around had stopped to see the beautiful miracle of life.“What will their names be mam,” a female doctor asked quietly. The woman smiled even more. She looked at each child closely, taking in their every features. One had her purple hair and her father’s brown eyes. She was wailing and her cheeks were red as a cherry, while her tears slid down to her blue wrap. The other had black hair and black eyes like her own.She did not wail though, she seemed peaceful, as looked around the room, as if she was searching for something. Suddenly one of her tears hit the blanket of the brown eyed child. As another tear was falling, the black eyed girl watched it with huge eyes filled with wonder. The woman immediately knew what to name them. She looked at the child in the blue blanket. “My tears,” she whispered to herself. She clutched the children tighter to her heart. “Ultear. She will be Ultear.” The hospital nurse scribbled down the name on her paper.“And the other child?” The woman looked down to the silent child. The child looked up at her. The woman smiled more.“She will be Ulfall.” She looked up at the nurse. “They are named after my fallen tears.” The nurse smiled, feeling her heart fill with warmth for the newborn family.“I’m sure you will make a wonderful mother, Ur Milkovich.” Ur smiled down at her newborn children, unaware of the perils to plague her family in the future. ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ A tiny frail child watched from her doorway as her mother held a thermometer to her sister’s sleeping head. The mother choked back a sob and watched her sister’s unsteady breaths, one by one. The tiny frail child walked into the room, her eyes seemed to have less of their normal glow, almost empty. She walked up to her mother and tapped her shoulder. The older woman jumped a bit and turned to see the tiny girl looking up at her. She let out a sigh of relief and held a hand to her chest.“Ulfall, you scared me,” she said softly as to not wake her sleeping sister while stroking her hair. The tiny girl looked to her sister, worry showed clear in her black pupils.“Is sissy going to be okay, Ur,” she asked quietly, not turning from her sister, watching her chest rise and fall, followed by ragged breathing.The mother sighed and lifted her into her arms, walking over to the other bed in the small room.“I thought I told you to call me Mom,” she said quietly while laying down the child in the creaky bed and lifting the covers up to her chin. The little girl squirmed under the soft sheets and looked to her mother.“Sorry,” she said and looked down. The mother sighed and smiled slightly, thinking of how strange it was that though her children shared nearly the same face, excluding hair and eyes, they acted so different. While Ultear was almost always hyper and joyful before the strange sickness had come over her, Urfall was more timid and was more on the quiet side. But even then, her eyes always shone with a sort of wonder that fascinated Ur.“Mom...Ully…” The mother’s head swiftly turned to see Ultear had muttered her’s and her twin’s nickname she had given them. Well, Ur had mostly always told her and Ulfall to call her ‘Mom’, but it seemed as though Ultear was the only one willing to comply to her wishes.“Will sissy be okay,” Ulfall asked once more. Ur looked to her other child and offered a small smile. She sat down on her daughter’s bed and held a hand to her cheek.“Of course she will,” she said as she smiled down at her daughter. For a moment, the child was emotionless, but then she smiled and scooted farther under the covers so almost her whole head was covered with the soft cotton.“I know that! Ultear is super strong!” Her live like voice brought peace upon Ur’s worries momentarily and she smiled at her child’s hopefulness.“If only everyone in the world had your positivity,” she said softly to herself. Suddenly the child sat up and pointed at Ultear.“If you sing the lullaby, then maybe Ultear will feel better!” Ur smiled and nodded. She opened her mouth slightly and her sweet yet husky voice fell out.“Our castle lay far away, in the cold mountains. Our eyes they will shine from the teardrops that plague them. Even so, we shall hold our heads high, knowing safety and love is just moments away."Though isolated we may seem, in our frozen iced shells. We have each other so as not to dwell. Like roses we each have our thorns and beauty, each petal is waiting to fall. But ice is our shelter, as cold as our skin, but inside our hearts we are shining with bliss…” Ultear's coughing had soon stopped and was replaced by deep shaky breaths. Ur turned to see her other daughter had seemed to have fallen asleep. Satisfied, she slowly rose to her feet and walked out of the door. After she had left Ulfall let out a fit of coughs she had been holding in. Ur did not need to worry about another child’s well being at the moment. Besides, all that mattered was Ultear's health, not her own. ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ Three figures trudged out of a small cottage on a snowy mountain. Two children and a mother. One was carried by her mother while the other trudged through the snow, looking down in shame. The daughter carried by the mother had been sleeping until then, a light blush on her face because of the cold.“Mom,” she muttered weakly, “Where are we going.” The mother did not answer and hid her eyes with her bangs. After she did not answer, the child asked again. The mother still did not answer. She was currently reaccounting that day's earlier events.“Ulfall, have you been hiding this all this time,” Ur asked her daughter in shock. The daughter nodded meekly and looked down. Ur suddenly kneeled and grabbed her daughter’s shoulders as tears began to fall from her eyes.“Why?! Do you know how dangerous it could be for you if your sister hadn’t told me?!” Ulfall merely looked away. “Sissy is more important. You need to fix sissy first.” Ur froze, shocked that a child this small could bear through so much sickness for her sister.“Sissy is more important than me, you have to fix Ultear first.” Ur stood up, bangs covering her eyes.“I am going to fix both of you.” She said before she walked towards Urfall’s and Urtear’s room. “I am going to seal away both of your darknesses..” She whispered. ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ “Mom,” two small girls called into the dry desert wind. They had both fallen asleep halfway through the journey to this strange dessert, and were confused as to why their mother was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, they heard a voice from behind them. “Ultear-sama, Ulfall-sama, we have come to pick you up.” The man who had spoken to us had a cloth concealing his face. He wore a white suit covered by a lilac cloak, and a strange white squarish hat. Many other people clothed in the same attire stood behind this man, theirs and the children’s clothes flapped in the wind. The children, still concerned as to where their mother had gone, asked them where she was.“Where is Ur,” the child in the purple dress asked. The other child nodded, as though she were ready to ask the same question.“Your mother has gone home. Your mother has requested that we strengthen your magic.” The children were then taken inside of the building. The halls were strange, white and curvy, with green outlines in some areas. The floor was black with green dots. The children were led through these halls, three of the strangely clothed people walked behind them.“Where is this,” the child in the pink dress asked. A women replied.“This is the Bureau of Magical Development.” A man spoke then. “It’s a wonderful facility that invents a range of new magic. Suddenly, the people stopped and a man stepped in front of the children. He held his hand out to the side, as if it were a welcoming gesture, and a hole opened in the wall.“Now, please go in your room,” he said. The children looked at him nervously, before stepping inside."But…” They began to before they were cut off by the women.“Until your magic is strengthened, you cannot see your mother.” “That’s what she requested,” one of the men spoke. “A change of clothes is prepared for both of you inside,” the second man spoke,“We will call for you soon.” The children were left speechless as the strange hole closed. The children looked to the two beds against the wall.“Mom,” the one in the pink dress whimpered. The other child reached for her hand. “Ully,” the girl in the pink dress whispered to the purple dressed child. ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ “It is time.” This was a phrase that the two children had become so familiar with, it almost brought no tears to either of them anymore. The simple meaning behind it to them was to go watch as one would get magic power painfully pumped into them while the other watched, waiting for their turn.Usually the black eyed child who the other calls Ully would go first. The children would be subjected to stare at a strange sun for hours on end while bearing magical pain. At first it was scary, one would scream while the other, who usually goes first, would stay silent, and study the strange sun’s features, watching as it’s eyes light up with power. She would tell her sister it didn’t hurt at all, and that she was going to be fine. But her sister began to see through her lies, as she bore through the same pain.Eventually, as the treatments grew more harsh, the child who went first began to show small signs of pain. To the children, it seemed as though the less pain you show, the more magic they strange people would pump into you.The child with brown eyes told her sister that it was okay to show emotions, but the child never listened, hoping that by drawing the strange peoples attentions, the would be less harsh on her sister. One day, the strange people decided to separate the two children, leaving them both unstable.On that very day, a strange man came and requested the strange people to inject the children with more magic power, especially the one who did not show emotions.“Increase the level factor by ten, do not rest for seven hours,” were his exact words as he left the room with an evil chuckle. “And increase the level factor by ten each passing hour.” The little girl who wanted to take the attention away from her sister smiled a bit. Now her sister could not have power pumped into her for another seven hours. The strangely clothed people seemed to think that the child was finally cracking. In a way, she was, but it was not because of the harsh treatments.It was because of the constant isolation from her sister. Soon, her thoughts were lead to their end, because as the strangely clothed people once again began to pump the magic into her, she finally showed emotion. The little girl felt tear after tear trace down her cheeks, realizing with fear, that in another hour the strangely clothed people would increase the pain.And they would do so again after another hour. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. The little girl felt more tears trace down her cheeks and silently reassured to herself in her head using her mother’s voice. It’s okay, Ulfall, as long as you and your sister are together nothing can harm you. The little girl then imagined her sister’s smiling face, “Ully! Look what I found”, her sister had once said as she tugged her towards a hill,“It’s an ice cave, just like the castle Mom sings about! We can even decorate it, it will be our secret!” Her sister then looked to her, as if looking for a reply. She smiled.“Of course Ultear,” she had said. Her sister then smiled again and pulled her to a small hole she now saw in the large hill. Inside was the most beautiful place she had ever seen. It was almost as if the place had been carved from ice rather than completely natural. Her sister had then broke out into coughs. She quickly turned to her sister and frowned.“Ully, we need to tell Ur you are sick!” Her sister simply smiled and looked away, twiddling her fingers.“Don’t be silly, I’m not sick, I just, umm,” she began to cough and laugh at the same time, “See, I’m just laughing! At… how much fun we are going to have here! Imagine all the good times we are going to have here! And we can even someday invite Mom! We are going to be the happiest family ever! Forever! Nothing will ever take us apart!”Ulfall then turned to Ultear. She had been staring at her with wide eyes.“You really think so, sissy?” Ultear had asked. Ulfall nodded.Ultear then dragged her to the middle of the cave where a huge ice wall lay. She raised her hand in the air and slapped it down on her palm in the ice-make position out mother had taught us. “Ice make, rose wall!” She yelled, as ice formed with a sudden blast and knocked her and her sister back.Ulfall had to fight very hard at that moment to hold back a cough. She had seen her sister rise from the ground, a look of awe on her face. She then rose herself to see what her sister was looking at. Where the wall had once been, lay a garden of violet ice roses. The sisters looked at the roses in wonder. They had never seen purple roses before. Ultear then had looked to her.“Your turn,” she said cheerfully. She looked at her sister, confused. Her sister had then sighed, as if what she was asking was the most obvious thing in the world. “Come on Ully, how hard is it? Make something with your ice. Maybe you will have a different colored ice than me!”Ultear had then smiled. She nodded at her sister, and went into the ice make stance.“Ice make, statue,” she yelled. A sudden blast of power shot the sisters back against the cave wall. She had quickly recovered and then ran over to her sister, who had seemed dazed. “Ultear! Are you alright?!” Her sister had grabbed her arm, nearly scaring her to death.“Look,” Ultear had said. She had not listened to her sister, and picked her up and started to walk her out of the cavern."It’s okay Ultear, you are going to be alright!” She said as she rushed towards the entrance. “It’s fine. You are fine!” She had then ran out of the cave towards their cabin, never wondering about what her sister had been talking about. ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ Later in time, the little girl changed. She lost the hope that had once been in her eyes, the wonder. She had already been losing it, but it had fully withered away now.She no longer wondered what the next day would bring, or if she would ever see her mother again. She knew she would not see her mother again, what she had seen could not be unseen.Trapped in the grief of that time, she chose drastic methods. She fully erased her existence. She took the memories from everyone she had once loved, who had once loved her. Except for one person. She allowed her sister to dwell on the memory of what her sister had done to her. How she had looked at her, and then left.She chose never to forgive, and never to give second chances. After that, she disappeared. So did her sister, for without her, her sister had no reason to stay with the strangely clothed men. The little girl with the black eyes full of hope was never seen again.Until one day, when a lone wanderer greeted her in her travels. He claimed his name was Zeref. Over time, they became allies. Zeref introducing her to the idea of a perfect world, with no people to hate her, no people to judge her, no need to fear what others might think of her.The girl had aged and now was a young adult. She had never seen her sister since the day she fears to speak of, and never hopes to. Now she travels with the strange man called Zeref. Ulfall eventually knew who he was, she hadn't minded, however. It would be hypocritical to blame a man who was guilty of the same crimes as oneself. It stayed this way until one day, there came news of a returning guild that had disappeared seven years ago.Then the man left. But instead of leaving without her, he took her with him. She currently is known throughout the land as the Soulless Wanderer. It is rumored she was trained by the Soul Dragon, but had killed it, and was now wandering the land in search of her next victims. The girl had laughed at these claims, for the chance that a dragon had trained her was so absurd.She had taught herself. Her power was 'Soul'. Rumors said that she once slaughtered a city with a single word, leaving only ashes, at the age of ten. The people of Fiore wondered for ages who she might be, but nobody could ever remember who it could possibly be.Who could possibly have so much power, only one person knew.Her name was… Ultear . Fallen Tears ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The ravennete smiled at the beautiful sight before her. She closed her eyes and hoped that maybe it would stay like this forever. But when she opened them, she knew that it never could. She was currently at her soon to be new home, Alvarez. She had been here for a long time, and Z had told her it was a land of promise. He was correct. It really was too bad all of her’s had been broken. Promises, she thought to herself and let out a small chuckle. This was most definitely a land of promise. As of now she was atop the highest tower of Alvarez's castle, watching children play down in a meadow. They ran about, squealing with happiness, unaware of the cruelty of this world. She took in another deep breath. “I had a feeling I would find you here, Ulfall,” said the soft voice of her savior, Zeref. She turned back to him and smiled a bit, motioning for him to stand beside her. “It’s not often you see children playing about so close to the grounds,” she said happily. Z nodded and his black hair blew in the wind a bit. A small smile was plastered on his face. “Yes,” he said as some of the children down below screeched and started rolling down the hill, being chased by an older child. As they stopped at the bottom, they looked up to see Z and the black haired girl, or in their eyes, their King and Queen. They were not married, or lovers, but simply friends or allies some would say. At first glance anyone else would have bowed, but being the lighthearted spirits they are they simply giggled and waved. Ulfall chuckled and returned the gesture, while Z followed with a caring smile. The children smiled at themselves being noticed, before continuing with their game. The two young adults smiled again and walked back inside of the girl’s large tower. She hadn’t originally wanted such a large living space, but the people insisted. The girl turned her black orbs to Z. “So why have you come?” She asked kindly. He smiled a bit as he sat down in one of her cushy chairs. She rolled her eyes playfully, “Yes just make yourself at home.” He chuckled at her childish demeanor. “Can I not just come up here to see you,” he asked. She smiled. “And since when have you been courteous,” she asked chuckling, taking a seat across from him. Her eyes suddenly went cold, followed by his. “Now, what is it.” “If you haven’t heard, the Fairies are back.” She nodded as for him to continue. “And as for our plan to gather the you know what , this may prove to be an issue.” “And how would this affect me, Spriggan,” she asked using his alias. His eyes narrowed. “If the Fairies return to their previous location, the mission to retrieve it will not go as easily, Epese.” The girl’s eyes narrowed this time, as he used her alias. She did not favor it. “I believe that our troops will be well over enough to stop flies from interfering.” He nodded. “Yes, I thought so too, that is until Acnologia came to destroy them. But they managed to survive, thanks to her .” The black haired girl nodded, aware of who he was speaking of. The Fairies’ first master, Mavis Vermilion. She had heard tales of Z’s and her’s encounters, the last not ending well. This is what she got for snooping around in the Underworld, information, deals and trades, and many other things . “So in short, there is a possibility, no. We can be completely sure that both the Fairies’ first master and The Dragon King will show their faces.” Z nodded at her statement. “And with the threat of Acnologia, there is a large possibility that the other dragons will show their faces.” Z nodded. “Acnologia, Igneel, Metalicana, Grandeeney, Weisslogia, Skiadrum, not even our forces will be able to handle that many dragons.” The black haired girl shook her head. “No one could,” she said as Z looked at her questioningly. She rolled her eyes. “No one who wanted to could.” He nodded, knowing the statement applied to them both. “So, because of this I will need you to prevent it.” Ulfall nodded, sighing in a bit of frustration. “Of course I have to,” she muttered under her breath while resting her head in her hand. He simply chuckled at her response. She looked up at him through her fingers. “When do I leave?” “Oh, I’m not just sending you. I will also be going with you, but on a different path.” Ulfall’s eyes widened a bit, her manipulative expression being replaced with one of worry. “But who will watch over the city, empire, everything? And what about all the people? The children, and I heard, yes! There is a rebelling district down in the east! And-” She was cut off by Z chuckling and putting a finger to her lips. He smiled a bit, his cold demeanor disappearing. “You always have been a worry wart, haven’t you,” he joked. Ulfall felt a small sigh and an embarrassed blush make it’s way onto her face. She pouted and crossed her arms, looking the other way. “It’s not my fault I’m looking out for the empire, unlike some people.” Her pointed comment made Z laugh softly. “All will be fine, I sent some forces down to the east to deal with the rebelling troops, and August will watch over the empire while we are away.” Ulfall nodded, she trusted August. Even though he seemed cold to others, she knew he was actually a kind man, or at least he was to her. Ever since she had arrived, which had been around two months ago, August had been kind to her, and even taught her some of his magic. For all she cared he could be faking it for power or some other thing, but he had a kind aura around him, so it seemed. Ulfall would trust him with her life if it came to it. “Okay,” Ulfall finally replied after all of her thinking. Zeref smiled. “Thank you,” he said as he rose to leave. Ulfall rolled her eyes. “It’s not really like I had a choice anyways,” Ulfall muttered as Z walked towards the door. “I heard that.” ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ “All hail our Queen! All Hail Lord Epese, Queen of Alvarez!” Her subjects, or what she considered pawns, shouted words of approval and respect to Ulfall as she made her way toward the middle of a giant dark room lined by the guards. It wasn’t that she needed them for protection, but sacrifices were required to reach what she needed. As she walked between the guards, a stone cold expression adorned her face. Her eyes were empty, filled with nothing. No expression, no gratitude for those who sacrificed their lives for her, no love. As she finally reached the large door, she examined its many dark features. It was made of a dark material, many dark materials. All of its components changing constantly to represent her reign as ruler, or furthermore as her real identity, the Soulless Wanderer. The images showed millions bowing to her as everything else was being sucked into her. The humans then slowly began to warp until they were all demons. The demons then began to swarm around her, until it seemed as though she had been consumed by the darkness. But then the demons began to warp once more until their petrified faces formed the chair upon she sat. Her new appearance was that of a fearsome ruler, with no eyes whatsoever. Although it may seem to take a long time for all of that madness to conceive inside of Ulfall’s head, it had taken a mere accident. One her sister had caused. Ulfall scowled at the thought. All of it, her pain, suffering, agony, it had all been Ultear’s fault. And she would never forgive her for that. Her head whipped around banishing the thought from her mind. She looked at the guards watching expectantly at her. She smiled a little. Pitiful humans , she thought as she watched as their faces morphed to pain. They soon began to drop one by one, giving out a strangled cry each time they fell. It had been about a minute of this before there were only two men left. She began to walk towards them and squeezed her palm slightly. They both let out a small gasp and the sound of bones cracking ran throughout the tall room. As Ulfall continued to approach them, one of the men let out a strangled cry once more before falling to the ground, dead. Ulfall smiled at the remaining man and released her clenched hand. The man fell to the floor, gasping for air. Ulfall gave him around four seconds to recover before grabbing a fistful oh his hair and pulling him up to look at her. “It seems we have our lucky winner,” she whispered into his ear before placing her fingers lightly around his neck and squeezing a bit. “I’m really sorry. Before my sacrifices were more worthy, but I suppose you will suffice.” The man nodded his head like crazy. “All hail my queen! All hail Lord Epese, queen of Alvarez!” Ulfall frowned at his response and kicked him in the gut. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “I hate that name. You will address me as Soulless.” The man gave her a confused look before nodding. “Yes, Queen Soulless,” he shouted. Ulfall sighed. She didn’t like the ‘Queen,’ but it’s not like the man would be able to bother her for long. She once again grabbed the man and walked over to the door. She slammed his hand on it and grabbed his mouth with her other hand. “Do not scream, no matter what,” she said loudly as she pulled out a dagger and slammed it into the door right between his fingers. The man showed great fear in his eyes, but did not scream. Ulfall nodded in approval before releasing the dagger and watching as it slowly turned, as if opening a door with a keyhole, for it was. The man suddenly jerked forward. Ulfall smiled. The process had begun. The center of the door slowly turned into dead ash, taking the man with it. The man started to gasp, the feeling of every one of his cells slowly transfiguring into ash seemingly felt well enough to scream at. he did not scream though. Ulfall’s hand stayed firmly put on his as it turned to ash. Soon all that was left of the man was ash, along with a small hole in the doorway. Ulfall pulled her hand out of the ash to to reveal a measly golden apple in it. Ulfall sighed in frustration. So tiny , she thought to herself, I better be enough to keep me living long enough to move the castle. She smiled and looked down at the small apple in her palm before taking a bite. The satisfying crunch made her hunger for more and soon all was left was the bloody core. Ulfall smirked, licking her fingers of the blood from the apple. She then gazed down the hole the door lead to. “Sometimes I wonder if it truly is a coincidence that my name ends in fall,” she chuckled to herself before hopping down the hole that seemingly ended in nothing but darkness. She smiled to herself once more as she fell, looking at the bloody apple core in her hand. She felt her appearance slowly changing until she resembled a demon. She suddenly stopped falling and she looked to her right. Standing there was one of her guards. But this was not a normal guard, it was a demon. It’s eyes traced down to her hand where the apple core still lied. “An apple? Again?” The demon asked, amused. Ulfall righted herself in midair and dropped to the ground, looking at the guard through her empty eye sockets, chuckling lightly. “Oh please, don’t criticize me for eating the divine fruit of soul,” she said chuckling as she walked towards the curtain that lay waiting next to her landing platform,”What do you expect from a Queen, especially…” She paused as she ripped open the curtain to reveal her almighty kingdom. “One of hell. It’s the only way I can reach this place.” She turned around to face her guard looking at him through her eyeless sockets once more. “Besides, gods of death love apples.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- A girl. She sat alone on a bench in a park where children age. Her eyes were stained red and puffy from crying. Her skin so pale it seemed white. The ground around her was bleak and dead. It seemed as though nobody wanted to comfort her, or look at her for the matter. The lovely park once filled with joyful children was soon empty. The trees surrounding the park seemed to lean away from the girl. The flowers shook as they were devoured by the darkness looming out of her. The girl’s short tangled hair blew in the wind, obviously not taken proper care of. Soon salty water mixed in with the wind as well, followed by the soft cries of the girl. She brought her head to her knees, rocking herself back and forth quietly. In her sadness the little girl didn’t notice a woman approaching her until she felt her sit down on the bench next to her. The little girl peeked up at the woman, who seemed to be distracted. The woman looked off into the distance.“It’s really beautiful, isn’t it,” the woman asked the girl looking down at her so the girl saw her pale face. Her hair was long and the deepest of blacks. Her eyes were cold and unforgiving yet the woman seemed so kind. The girl simply nodded. “You know, it’s not often I get a chance to visit you…” The woman drug out her words before chuckling.The little girl felt a pain in her chest and looked down to see a golden apple in her lap. The girl dropped her knees and picked up the apple in confusion. She suddenly felt a pang of desire to eat the apple. She felt her stomach growl as the realization hit her. She hadn’t eaten in days.“Go ahead, eat. You seem to be hungry,” the woman said with a smile. The woman looked away from the girl. The rose the apple to her lips. Little did the girl know, an evil smirk was adorning the woman’s face. The little girl opened her mouth to take a bite when suddenly she froze. She eyed the apple for a second more before throwing it onto the ground. Where the apple landed, the ground caved in and separated into a large staircase. The staircase looked horrifying top the little girl’s eyes, but she seemed to keep calm.“Is that the best you can do, Sister,” the girl asked, except she wasn’t a little girl anymore. She was now a grown woman, almost completely alike to the woman who had sat down next to her. She had dark purple hair and brownish red eyes, while the woman had both black eyes and hair. Their facial features were identical though.“Oh, please don’t patronize me Ultear, it’s not like I would put that much effort into seeing you again,” the woman chuckled, a malicious gleam in her eye. She stood up and walked in front of her sister, back facing her. “I suppose I just came to tell you that, well, I suppose I should say I’m ‘coming home’.” Ultear’s face contorted with surprise and a small bit of fear, before turning itself back to it’s bored look.“And why should I know this,” she asked quietly, standing up slowly. Ulfall chuckled quietly.“Simple,” she said turning around, “Because I’m not going to be alone.” Ultear gave her a confused look. Ulfall scoffed. “Allow me to elaborate. I believe you have met my traveling companion, his name. Ahh… The name of the most feared and worshipped wizard on your continent.” Ultear began to feel herself shake.“Ulfall....” She muttered under her breath. Ulfall turned around and looked at her with an insane gleam in her eye, smiling maliciously.“Zeref and I will be seeing you very soon,” she said quietly looking down. “So be prepared.” She looked up at Ultear once more, but her eyes were vacant from her face and her skin seemed more pale. As she spoke, fangs appeared in her mouth as giant swirling tattoos swam up her arms covering one side of her face, glowing a bright blue. Ultear fell backwards in fear but instead of hitting the ground, she fell down the stairs leading to the underworld. As she feel she was grabbed by metal claws and felt herself in her child form again after looking down at her tiny form. In horror she realized she was dressed in the same green gown that she had worn during her days in the magic facility. She finally looked up to see the horrifying face light up one last time before felt everything grow dark.Ultear woke up in a sweat, desperately searching the area around her for her sister. As she realized it was just a dream she fell down onto the cold hard ground. She looked to see Jellal still slumbering and Meredy cuddled up against her. She closed her eyes. It seemed like just a nightmare, but she knew it wasn’t. Ulfall was coming, and bringing Zeref, and there was nothing she could do. There’s nothing I can do, she thought before opening her eyelids and looking up into the moonless night, But maybe they can do something. I have to warn them, I have to warn Fairy Tail. ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ Ulfall smiled from her great throne as she eyed her living Hell. Or, just plain old Hell. But it felt alive. The Underworld was changing. Along with Ulfall. As the palace and city moved in what seemed like days, truly seconds passed. At least in Earthen time. Time was different in the separate worlds. Much like the Celestial Spirit World, the Underworld functioned on a different time frame. Though in the Celestial Spirit World time sped up, in the Underworld, time slowed. This was likely where the phrase, "Eternal punishment" originated from. It truly was an eternal Hell though. Ulfall made sure of that. Anyone who crossed her would be guaranteed an afterlife of punishment. Ulfall let her empty sockets rest, losing her vision for the moment. She almost fell asleep before the palace experienced a sudden shaking, immediately jostling her from her rest. Ulfall scowled as a piercing roar pitched through the air. "He just had to come here so early didn't he," Ulfall muttered in disgust to herself before pulling herself up from her majestic perch and walking past the many elaborately carved columns leading to her agreed meeting point. Ulfall walked at a leisurely pace, making sure to take her time knowing it would annoy her guest to the greatest. But she also walked like this because she knew she was being watched. Ulfall turned her head toward her palace to see the demon guard who had welcomed her watching her from a window. Disguising her annoyance, she waved to the demon with a smile, showing her fangs as a reminder of who was in charge. The demon scowled and retreated from the windowsill. Ulfall scoffed in return and continued in on her walk to her destination. As she finally reached the place she intended, an abandoned spa resort, she smirked. She still could barely believe she had managed to convince him, of all people to meet her here. No doubt he would try to kill her, Ulfall walked inside. The spa was in great condition, if she was correct Ulfall believes the old ruler of the Underworld had it made specifically for themselves and their partner. Ulfall scoffed at the thought. Wasting jewels on such tedious things. At least she could drop by every once in a while to get a nice clean. Ulfall continued to the back where the men and women's bathing areas were separated only by a thin wall. As she entered the women's section she sensed another's presence. "It seems you made it," Ulfall spoke loudly enough to be heard on the other side of the wall. Her only answer was silence. Ulfall continued nevertheless. "It truly is nice, don't you think," Ulfall said as she began to strip of her clothing tossing them to the side, "how even after all this time, this spa is still working. Much like many other things, it has the ability to preserve itself..." Ulfall trailed off at the end of her sentence as she dipped a toe in the water, following with the rest of her body, not even making a splash. "I didn't come for small talk," a rough voice said from the other side of the wall. Ulfall smiled darkly, her hair floating around her head in loose curls. "My, my, the beast finally opened it's mouth," Ulfall spoke melancholy. A scoff could be heard from the other side. "You should thank God you're not mortal," the voice muttered. Ulfall simply chuckled. "Thank God, that seems a bit tedious, don't you think. Especially for someone who lives in Hell." A grunt echoed from the other side. "You should know why I summoned you here..." "I have a feeling I do," the voice answered. "Good, then you will understand my issue. You," Ulfall spoke as she pulled herself from the water. "You, are a true block in my plan." "That's the point," the voice responded roughly with a snort. Ulfall flicked her hand and two towels appeared in midair in front of her. She grabbed them both and tied one around her waist and draped one around her neck. "But I suppose we can sympathize on one issue," Ulfall said, "E.N.D." All previous humor in her voice was vacant. The voice on the other side scoffed. "That's not my problem, it will not stop my destruction of all," the voice said arrogantly. Ulfall scoffed, as she walked along the wall towards the opening leading to the men section. "You sit on a throne of lies," Ulfall spoke. The voice growled. "And you sit on a throne that will be the end of you," the voice responded. Ulfall grew closer to the opening. "Yes, but we both must unite against a common enemy for now," Ulfall had reached the opening by now. "Isn't that right..." Ulfall turned and walked through the opening. "Acnologia." A man, or at least what looked like one, was sitting on a steamy rock at the edge of the pool. He wore a large black cloak, disguising the blue tattoos that decorated his arm, a reminder of what he truly was. He had dark skin and long hair tangly hair. If anyone were to see him at first sight they would have thought he was a homeless man. Though if you watched the way he carries himself higher than others you could have seen that he was much more that a simple homeless man. "Soulless Wanderer," he spoke as he used one arm help himself stand up, "Why have you summoned me, and treated this whole meeting as if it was a-" "Distraction?" Ulfall asked chuckling, "You see, it is a distraction, for you at least." Acnologia's eyes widened for a split second before returning to their bored expression. "You're not as stupid as you seem," Acnologia said he frowned and walked toward Ulfall. Ulfall scoffed and turned her back to him. "I came here to make a deal," she said coldly. Acnologia stopped walking when he was right behind her. "As I said, we both have a common enemy, E.N.D., and by definition, its creator is also our enemy." "So what are you suggesting, that we wage war on Zeref," Acnologia scoffed. Ulfall snorted. "Where's the fun in that," she asked as she turned to face Acnologia, "I simply suggest we should make an agreement." Acnologia smirked, crossing his arms over his chest and standing tall as if he owned the realm. "What could you offer me of worth," he asked as if he had outsmarted Ulfall. She smirked, knowing that he could never. "The 13th key," Ulfall said as she held out a dark looking key with the symbol of Ophiuchus, the snake charmer key. It was gold with a black snake wrapped around its staff. Acnologia burst into laughter, clutching his sides. He looked up to Ulfall with a sadistic look upon his face. "Soulless Wanderer, you never fail to disappoint me," he chuckled as his face gained cruelty and harshness, "You seem to believe that the object you are holding will actually be of assistance to me. What a true disappointment." "While it may not assist you, it will buy you time, and I may say greatly increase the stakes of our final battle. Say, it will make it much more... Interesting..." Acnologia stopped chuckling. His face serious now. "Even if that does help me, how the hell does it help you," Acnologia asked with an uncaring look. Ulfall smiled. She walked toward Acnologia, stopping in front of him to look up at his face. She traced his tattoos with her fingernails, or claws, and felt her image warp to her normal human form. She looked at Acnologia's eyes through her eyelashes, while he looked straight forward, completely disregarding her presence. She sighed and took a step back. "I suppose I can sympathize partially with how you feel. I don't understand the hate you feel towards others, but I understand the desire. To destroy, to harm, to kill... It truly does swallow you up, huh..." Ulfall smiled softly at the ground. "It reminds me of a story I heard once. Pandora's box. A curious girl unknowingly releases all of the chaos and fear into the world by opening a box. The truth behind the story was that the chaos was only being stalled inside of the box. There always was chaos, whether it went noticed of not. The need to destroy. I used to fear this, but life is easier when you accept what it is meant to be." Ulfall took a deep breath. "I've been in pain, I don't want to destroy myself, rather others should do so for me. This just makes it easier, chaos, soon that is all that will be left of me, especially if Zeref succeeds. He is only using me, just as I am using him. You may choose to use me yourself, but I ask you to at least defeat Zeref. I do not want a new era. I want the end of one, the last one." Ulfall felt her tone grow ice cold as she spilled out her thoughts to the beast. He seemed to be lost in thought. Either that or he wasn't listening. Ulfall sighed. "Just keep that in mind," she said as she tossed the key to him and felt her body warp to her demon form. She felt clothes materialize around her as she continued walking until she was at the opening of the entrance. "And Acnologia...." Ulfall looked back at him, "You know it never could have worked." Ulfall walked out and behind her Acnologia clutched the key in his hand tighter, so much that blood began to drip down it.
10695198	Kays Way of Helping	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Cassian Andor, Jyn Erso, K-2SO (Star Wars)", "Fandom": "Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by yellowbound", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-22T00:00:00", "words": "1,277", "Additional Tags": "Fluff, Post-Scarif, Everyone lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence", "Relationship": "Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "Rebelcaptainprompts", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“It’s too quiet in here,” Jyn complained as she hauled herself up to the cockpit of the banged up Imperial shuttle they had stolen. She had gotten used to missions that included Baze, Chirrut, and Bodhi as well, not just Cassian and K-2SO. The absence of her friends bothered her more than she would ever admit to anyone, including herself.“I have over fifty-two thousand samples of musical recording from twenty-seven thousand five hundred and one planets,” said K2.Jyn blinked in astonishment. “You do?”“Sometimes it is helpful for Cassian to hear some after a mission.”“Thank you, Kay,” said Cassian, trying to end the conversation. Jyn wasn’t having it.“Why aren’t you playing one now?”“He does not seem particularly distressed.” Both Jyn and K2 turned to look at a chagrined-looking Cassian, who, despite being covered in the detritus of their last excursion, including dirt and what looked suspiciously like slime (Jyn had no idea how he had gotten that), didn’t actually seem all that perturbed by any of it.“That is true,” Jyn said, still looking him over. She reached out, pointing to the slime streaked down one sleeve of his jacket. “How did you pick that up?”Cassian, who already was looking disgruntled, frowned down at where she was pointing. “I don’t-” his frown got deeper. “I think I brushed up against something.” He was already sliding out of his cockpit seat, and soon disappearing below, careful of his arm.“He takes careful care of his possessions,” Kay added, unnecessarily.“I know,” Jyn said, smiling. She didn’t know if she was smiling at the droid, or at Cassian not being overly ruffled by being chased through crowded city streets by Imperial sympathizers, but being upset that his favorite jacket might be ruined.“Can you play a song for me?” Jyn asked, as Kay turned back to his controls.He cocked his head at her. “I do not know what you would like to hear.”She shrugged. “What do you normally play for Cassian?”Kay paused for a moment before a quiet, lovely sound filled the cabin. The gentle, undulating sounds reminded her of Lah’mu, and walking along the beach near her parents’ farm, her father calling to her lest she run to far ahead of them, her mother chiding him for being too protective.She sighed when the song ended as gently as it had begun. Kay, who was still working at his station, lifted his head to her. “Would you like to hear another?”She both would and wouldn’t. The memory had been intense, she was not quite ready for another. “Not at the moment. Thank you.”She decided to go find Cassian and didn’t have to go far. He was sitting at the bottom of the ladder that lead from the cockpit to the cargo hold. His jacket had been removed, and he had rolled up his shirt sleeves, his bare arms resting on his knees.Cassian shifted a bit, away from the ladder, making sure he wasn’t in her way as she came down, but other than that he didn’t turn to look at her. With his head bent, Jyn couldn’t see the expression on his face, his hair still dirty. He might take good care of his possessions, but he did not take the greatest care of himself.Jyn hesitated, and Chirrut’s voice, unbidden, flowed through her mind: The captain would not mind if you sat with him. Jyn started a little bit - had Chirrut said that to her before? She managed to stop herself from looking around for him, she knew he wasn’t there. But somehow her friend still made his presence felt.Gently, as quietly as she could, she sat down next to Cassian, close but not too close, unwilling to close the distance that remained.Jyn, not one for sitting still, felt she should at least do something. She ached to reach out and touch him, but she had only been brave enough to do that in the face of an approaching event horizon.Instead she asked, “Did you program him to do that?”Cassian shook his head. “No.” A pause. Jyn was about to ask another question when he added, “He went and found and loaded those songs himself.” Another pause. The unstated why? hung in the air. Before Jyn could make up her mind if she should press him on it or not, he said, “To play for me. After missions.” Oh, thought Jyn. “He hasn’t played anything in awhile.”“I don’t mind.”A shrug. “It hasn’t been necessary.” He was sitting up a bit straighter, now, looking across at the far wall.Jyn side-eyed him. “You only listen to music when necessary?”That brought an amused huff. “I only have Kay play me music when necessary. He’d get cranky, otherwise.”“How could you tell?”That got her his slight, barely there smile that she knew by now meant he was really pleased. “You would risk your life for him, you know.”“I know.” And then: “He’s not the only one.”Jyn wanted to take it back as soon as she said it - somehow, admitting that was too much, she had gone too far. Even though she did constantly put her life on the line for Cassian, she prefered to not actually talk or think about it.Kay saved her. “We are approaching our destination.” His announcement wafted down the stairwell.Cassian was on his feet immediately, but instead of ascending the ladder, as she expected, he extended a hand to help her up. Before she could think about what she was doing, she reached up and grabbed it.After helping her to her feet, Cassian gently bumped her hand against his thigh. It was so subtle a gesture that Jyn could’ve mistaken it for an accident, but she knew it wasn’t. He stood looking down at her, very close, his free hand on the ladder. While his touch was only fleetingly familiar, his physical proximity was a constant, comforting. Perhaps that is why, instead of dropping his hand and letting him move away, Jyn squeezed tighter, letting her fingers play along his.“Cassian, Jyn, we are exiting hyperspace in five minutes.”Cassian smiled, a real, full smile, that Jyn couldn’t help but return. “We could just let Kay deal with it,” he said, leaning in closer.“Cassian,” Kay called again.“He’d neither let us get away with that nor ever forgive either one of us if we tried,” she responded. She shoved him gently, as though urging him to move, but her grip on his hand let him know that she prefered he stayed where he was.“Are you stuck on the ladder?” Kay’s voice, much closer, caused Jyn and Cassian to look up, to see the droid’s head through the round opening separating the two levels.“We’re coming,” Cassian said, dropping her hand with a regretful squeeze, as Jyn moved back to give him a little space.“Told you,” Jyn said as she admired Cassian’s form as he climbed the ladder. By the time she appeared in the cockpit, both droid and captain were seated at the controls, headphones in place, all business. Jyn moved up and leaned against Cassian’s seat, her arm pressed against his. Cassian glanced at her briefly, a smile on his lips, before turning back to work.Kay turned to look at her, not so briefly. “Wouldn’t you be safer-”“She’s okay,” said Cassian at the same time Jyn said, “I’m good.” Kay, perturbed but not knowing what to do about it, turned back to his controls.Jyn stayed where she was as they came out of hyperspace.
10622625	Royalties	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "Other", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Haikyuu!!", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by heartSelect", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-14T00:00:00", "words": "646", "Additional Tags": "Fluff, Morning, Pancakes, Adventure Time - Freeform, cartoons, Breakfast, Gender-neutral Reader", "Relationship": "Bokuto Koutarou/Reader", "Character": "Bokuto Koutarou", "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	You woke up to the clattering outside your room and the growing coldness beside you. Kōtarō had already gotten out bed before you... That's a surprise.You groaned, pulling the covers up and curling into a ball trying to go back to sleep but alas, you just couldn't with the faint noise and the fact that your fiancé wasn't beside you made it harder to go back to slumber. Yes, you read that right, fiancé.You two have known each other since middle school and have been going out since high school and just last week, after 3 years of graduating high school, he finally proposed. The proposal was amusing but it was worth tearing up out of joy. I mean, he made an owl carry the ring for god's sake! It was a simple silver ring with a small (your birthstone) and sapphire.You got out of bed, only wearing an oversized shirt and underwear. You were still a bit tired from marathoning cartoon shows with Kōtarō last night. Western cartoons are weird. You thought I'd be fun to watch them and somehow you got hooked so you made Kōtarō watch them with you. The cartoons you watched last night were The Amazing World of Gumball, Gravity Falls, and Adventure Time. You liked those three best, so far. They seem more thought out, weird as they are, they do have cool storylines. Some things that would make you think as you watch them.You walked out of you shared room and you could smell the faint scent of toast. The clattering was coming from the kitchen and you heard a faint tune. A familiar one. You quietly went to the kitchen and the song Kōtarō was singing almost made you burst out laughing but you held it in. This was just too amusing."Making Babies~ making, making babies, that's what we're doing, Making babies~" he was singing Bacon Pancakes but changed the words to making babies. His hips were even swaying as he sang and flipped the pancake.With your shoulder leaning on the doorway and a playful smile on your face, you finally interrupted his amazing performance. "Kōtarō, if you sing that in bed, I will seriously punch you." you teased, chuckling a bit, walking closer to where he was just swaying his hips from.Kōtarō froze to the sound of your voice. He slowly turned with his face slowly reddening from embarrassment. "(Y--Y/N)!" he exclaimed, "I-I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed since you wondered last night what it would feel like to be a royalty like Bubblegum so I wanted to surprise you... A-and... yeah." he rambled, scratching the back of his head, looking away bashfully. "Guess I should've woken up earlier, huh?" he said, throwing you a smile.You were a bit taken back to his reasons and the smile only made your own cheeks burn. He was being cute again. This side of him wasn't much of a surprise to you when he first showed it but it was still quite unfamiliar. It was oddly cute.Going from a moody, energetic dork to a thoughtful, shy one was what really made you love him even more. You chuckled, shaking your head. "Nah, it's fine. We did stay up all night." you said, putting your arms around his neck pulling him a bit down, his hands instinctively going to your waist. You gave him a chaste kiss before placing your foreheads together. "But breakfast sounds good." you smiled."Yeah." Kōtarō said before giving you a kiss once again. You let go so he could continue making breakfast while you went to set the table.You smiled to yourself thinking as you glanced at the ring on your ring finger. 'If royalty meant Kōtarō acting more loving and cute, then I wouldn't mind him being my King'
10634847	For the First Time	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Ninth Doctor, Original Female Character(s), Original Time Lord Character(s), Rose Tyler, Tenth Doctor, Eleventh Doctor, Lilith Tyler-Lungbarrow (OC)", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by totalnovaktrash", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-15T00:00:00", "words": "2,104", "Additional Tags": "Original Character(s), it starts very shippy, doesn't end very shippy, a back story of sorts, clearly I can't tag for my life", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Minor Ninth Doctor/Rose Tyler - Relationship, Minor Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler - Relationship, Minor Eleventh Doctor/Rose Tyler - Relationship", "Series": "A Different Story, Lilith!Verse", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The first time the Doctor knew he loved Rose Tyler, they were in a basement in Cardiff. Of all the places for the Doctor, the Oncoming Storm, to die, it had to be a basement in Cardiff . The Gelth were getting closer, reaching through the bars. She was asking him, begging him, to tell her they she couldn't die decades before she was even born. But what bothers him the most isn't that he doesn't want to die. It isn't that he doesn't want his niece (who is broadcasting more sadness than fear, which is admittedly quite strange considering the situation) to die. It's that he doesn't want this stranger, this girl he barely knew, to die. “ I'm so glad I met you." The first time the Doctor tells Rose Tyler how much he cares, they're locked in the cabinet room in 10 Downing Street. It's him, Lilith, Rose, and Harriet Jones (where does he know that name from?) against a family of Racicoricofallapatorian criminals. Well, they've got Rickey and Jackie on the phone, but neither of them are being particularly helpful. There's a way out, he knows it. That doesn't mean he has to like it. Could he really snuff out the life of this girl, this precious girl, to save everyone else? He wants to tell her outright, so he tells her the only way he can. “ I could save the world but lose you. ” The first time anyone uses the word love, they're in a bunker underneath Utah and it's a damned Dalek who says it. Just moments ago, it was all despair and loss and Lilith slamming that pretty boy against the wall for leaving Rose Tyler to her death. Her death that was technically caused by the Doctor himself. But then the screen turned on and there was relief and hope and thank Rassilon she's alive . She tries to make a joke, then tells him not to let the Dalek out, even if it means her death. She's brave and selfless and he loves her for it. “ What use are emotions if you cannot save the woman you love? ” The first time Rose Tyler realizes that she loves the Doctor, he's gone. It's 1985 and she has royally screwed up. Her father is alive, but the Doctor is dead. It takes a moment to really hit her. The Doctor is dead, dead, and she never told him she loves him. Oh my god, she loves him. She can't even process what Lilith had shouted just before the Reaper swallowed him because there's a gaping hole in her chest and he died not knowing . She almost doesn't go to her dying father because of the crippling relief when she hears his voice again. “ Go to him. Quick. ” The first time the Doctor knows Rose Tyler loves him back, he has to forget because of Lilith and timelines. All he had wanted to do was confront her about what she had let slip, about the lie that she had been telling him for almost eleven years. And the truth is far from what he expected. She's named after her grandmother and her last name is hyphenated. It's Tyler-Lungbarrow. She's temporally misplaced because he told her she needed to be and she's his daughter. His and Rose’s daughter. He only knows it's not unrequited because this young Time Lady tells him so. “ She does, you know. Even in this incarnation, she loves you. ” The first time they kiss, it's the Doctor who initiates it even though it'll kill him and Rose won't remember anyway. Jack is gone and he and Lilith are next. His niece (why didn't that seem right?) assures him that she has no regrets, but he does. Oh, does he have regrets. I never held her. I never told her. I never kissed her. And then she appears again as a glowing goddess. She wipes the Daleks out of existence just to protect him. It's going to kill her if he doesn't do something. Fast. And although the kiss itself isn't strictly necessary, it's one less regret to die with. Except she'll never know it happened. And the lie he tells hurts just as much as the artron energy coursing through his body. He wants to die with one less regret, but he can't bring himself to make a dying declaration. So he says it in his own words while he can. “ You were fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. ” The first time Rose Tyler kisses the Doctor, it's an entirely different man than the one she fell in love with. It's Christmas and this Doctor is quite a bit different than she's used to. His ears are much smaller, his hair quite a bit larger, and there's a distinct lack of leather in his outfit. He's hyper and loud and animated when he talks. She's admittedly tipsy when it happens (he's not, damn Time Lord alcohol tolerance) and it only happens because he points out the mistletoe. She's not complaining, of course, about this kiss happening. If she's complaining about anything, it would be her mother interrupting before anything more than a chaste press of the lips occurs. New Years, of course, prompts a near make out session that Rose is quite pleased with. Lilith, less so. “ You two are sickening. I’m going to get cavities just from living in the same timeship. ” The first time they share a bed, it's mostly (if not only) about comfort. He'd gotten the time right, but not the location. Not even close. London instead of New York, but he doesn't even try blaming the TARDIS this time because he knows it was because he was distracted by how breathtakingly beautiful Rose looked. Or maybe the TARDIS was being drawn towards London because of the Wire. The anger, the fury, the despair, the hate he felt when he saw his precious Rose faceless consumed everything else. The need to either obliterate this Wire or get his Rose back, or maybe both, is so intense that he forces Lilith to stay behind with Tommy. He doesn't want her to see him like that. But the joy, the pure joy he feels when he sees her grin back where it belongs, is just as consuming, if not more so. Both hearts want to jump out of his chest when he kisses her in the middle of the street with a passion that surprises them both. He pretends he doesn't notice Lilith noticing that he slips into Rose’s room that night when she asks him to. “ Stay. Please. Just for tonight. ” The first time Rose Tyler knows the Doctor loves her back, Lilith is reluctant to tell her, but let's her remember because it's something she needs to know. It's only been a few hours since escaping Krop Tor when Lilith finds her in the library and tells her that they need to talk about Lilith, the future, and Rose’s relationship with the Doctor. Lilith tells her the truth. She's the Doctor’s daughter, not his niece, and she's not from Rose’s time. She going to leave eventually, even though she really doesn't want to. But Lilith doesn't mention anything about Rose and the Doctor’s relationship, so Rose asks who her mother is. Lilith doesn't technically give her the answer. “ You’re smart, Rose. Figure it out. ” The first time Rose Tyler tells the Doctor she loves him, she's standing on a windy beach in Norway and he doesn't get to say it back. “ Rose Tyler... ” The first time the Doctor tells Rose Tyler he loves her, they're standing in knee high, red grass and their yet-to-be-born daughter is watching them with a very smug smirk. He is contemplating (read: brooding) in the Gallifrey room when Lilith appears for what she says will be the last time. She gives him an explanation for coming back into his timeline and tells him how she regenerated into a ginger. Then, of course, she drops the bombshell that she met him eight times prior to the Time War, picked up some technology, traveled across the Void, and brought him her mother. Her mother is Rose Tyler. Rose Tyler is in his TARDIS again. So he tells her he loves her and her response is the most beautiful thing in the universe. “ Oh, Doctor. My Doctor. I love you too. ” The first time the Doctor calls her Rose Tyler-Lungbarrow, it's their wedding night. They get married ten years after they're reunited and it's a whole ordeal. Rose asks Jack Harkness to be her maid of honor and the Doctor goes back to 2009 to ask Donna Noble to be his best man. He picks up Lilith from that point in time too, though that's more of an accident. (It's really not. He feels better knowing that there's someone to stand for him when they do the Gallifreyan bonding ceremony.) Everyone is there to see it. Sarah Jane and Luke, Mickey and Martha, even Pete, Jackie, and Tony were brought to witness the event. The Doctor is sure that he had never been happier in his life than when Rose said those two words. “ I do. ” The first time they slept together, it was a reunion shag. The second time it was more of a ‘thank-the-gods-you're-alive-and-not-dead’ sort of thing after a particularly life threatening adventure. Then it becomes a regular activity. And the fact that it's a regular activity is what makes the confession at breakfast so nerve-wracking and it’s probably also why the Doctor nearly faints because “Rose, we've been shagging almost daily for twenty years, how are you only getting pregnant now ?” It's not until they can tell that the baby will be a girl that Rose realizes exactly who she is carrying in her womb. “ Lilithanadir Jaqueline Tyler-Lungbarrow. ” The first time Rose Tyler looks at her first born child, she cries. Lilith is born with blonde hair and eyes the same color as hers and Rose cries because the Lilith she first met had brown hair and freckles and eyes the color of chocolate. She doesn't want to know that her daughter is going to go through a regeneration. So she doesn't put up much of a fight at all when the Doctor modifies their memories to forget that Lilith traveled with them. She doesn't even ask when they'll get those memories back. The Doctor gets them back a few days after he regenerates into a floppy haired man with a bow tie obsession. Rose gets them back after Cwmtaff in the year 2020 when her daughter, her brave daughter who had given up her life to try and save their companion, walked out of the wardrobe room wearing a knee-length magenta dress and a denim jacket. The smile she wears is forced, though, and it reminds Rose of when she and the Doctor had to tell Lilith about her impending temporal misplacement. “ But you'll know who I am, won't you? It's not like I’ll be a stranger, right? ” The first time the Doctor has to say goodbye to his daughter, he does his best not to cry. He's leaving her in the perfectly capable hands of her godfather, but he doesn't want to let her go anyway because he knows . The Lilith he's dropping off in Cardiff has a British accent (it's slight, but it's there). She doesn't know how to use a sonic blaster. She relies on the TARDIS to translate alien languages. She doesn't swear, in Gallifreyan or English. The Lilith that his Ninth self knew was nothing like the daughter he's saying goodbye to. He reminds her that she is loved before saying goodbye. “ I love you too, Dad. I'm ready. ” It had been a very nice day for Rose Tyler-Lungbarrow. Darkel had elected to spend the day with Luke and Rose had left the twins with Mickey while she and Martha met Sarah Jane for lunch. The Doctor was off with Clara, probably stirring up trouble, and Rose was content to have a relaxing day with her friends. That being said, she did ask Martha if she and Mickey could watch Nyx and Jamie for a while longer afterwards. It had been weeks since she last ran for her life and Rose was getting twitchy. The Doctor landed the TARDIS in the middle of the Smith’s living room and Rose opened the doors to tell her husband off for not landing the ship outside of the house like they had discussed. Except it wasn't her husband at the console. “ Hey, Mom. I'm home. ” And for the first time in quite a long time, Rose’s family was complete.
10609281	Twist	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Alexander Hamilton, Thomas Jefferson", "Fandom": "Hamilton - Miranda", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by Skwibbiblee", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-12T00:00:00", "words": "1,105", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	A fist collided into the wall by his head, just barely missing Alexander, who had dodged, albeit not as gracefully as he wanted, as the short man stumbled and fell forward into who he was trying to avoid in the first place. He hissed as a hand gripped his hair and pulled him up to his tip toes, glaring up at his enemy, deep, dark, passionate eyes locking with the firey gaze of Jefferson, the latter holding him at attention, dark bruises blooming over his knuckles,skin torn precariously from his tussle with the wall.Alexander kicked out, balancing on his tip toes to keep from falling down into an even more vulnerable position.Thomas hissed through clenched teeth but kept his grip, bringing his cane forward to hit Alexander in retaliation, shins stinging from the brisk kick they had received. He knew Hamilton wasn’t stupid enough to strike if he thought himself incapable of having the upper hand, which was laughable in their current predicament.Hamilton gasped and growled, actually growled, at Jefferson, hands wrapping around the man’s hands and squeezing hard, digging his blunt nails into the skin to get him to release the shorter male.Jefferson did just that, cradling his injured hand before boxing the hot-tempered scholar in with his arms as Hamilton tried dodging away. Their faces were mere inches apart at this point, but neither would yield control to either, so they were at a stand still, remaining stagnant, huffing and puffing.Alexander tried slipping free again and yelped as he was picked back up and slammed into the wall, head reeling, eyes shaking in his skull, teeth gritted together.With his feet suspended again, Hamilton kicked back out, huffing heavily as Thomas tightened his grip, one hand over his neck, the other supporting his side, leg pressed against his rear to keep him from falling. The taller of the two smacked the brunet hard across the face and Hamilton whimpered under his breath, bringing his hands up to grip his enemy’s own hair and tugging. Hard.Thomas jolted and growled, pressing harder against Alexander’s tanned throat, squeezing harshly, feeling the hand in his hair tighten before faltering the longer he held him there.Hamilton, in a last ditch effort, kicked out against, swinging his leg straight up into the groin of Thomas, relishing in the pained shout he elicited from the other as he was suddenly dropped painfully on his ass.Thomas sunk to his knees, eyes narrowed darkly at the other male on the ground.Alexander was wheezing in air to fill his formerly empty lungs, cheeks slowly returning to their normal hue, full of life, blood, anger.They clashed again.But this time, there was bloodshed as Alexander aimed punches at Thomas’ face, and Thomas aimed at the joints in Alexander’s body, both aiming to maim, or seriously injure the other as Alexander bowled the other man over.He clawed and bit at Thomas like a wild animal, and Thomas, normally more civil, did the same, both ending up with some pretty impressive bite marks on their arms and fingers, scratches up and down their arms, legs, and sides, shirts having come untucked and undone from the brawl.With their blood boiling, heat in their faces, the two became aware that the other looked fairly attractive while torn to shreds, disheveled beyond repair, and knowing that if someone walked in, they’d both pay for it, but neither caring.Thomas held Alexander’s wrists in his hands, the other on top of him, glaring down, long brunet hair coiling over his face and over his shoulder, having come undone from its messy bun, the hair tie still hanging on one of his strands of silky hair, caught with sweat. His face was flushed, and he was breathing hard, as was Thomas.Thomas decided he wanted to see him fall apart.Alexander just breathed, looking down at Thomas. Thomas’ face was blooming with abrasions, butterfly bruises making their home on his swollen face, lip pebbled with blood, chin wet with drying residue of the pebbling substance, nose bruising, hair matted with sweat, frizzy from the movement.Alexander decided Thomas was the most beautiful fuck up he’d ever laid eyes on. Thomas moved first, pushing Alexander onto his back, and attacking his neck in one fluid motion, smirking against the skin when the tanned male beneath him gasped as he bit down hard, sucking harshly.Alexander fisted a hand in the darker skinned man’s hair as Thomas moved to a different part of his neck, moaning unabashedly.Thomas peppered his neck with bites and hickeys, listening to Alexander, a man who would fight with a brick wall, come apart beneath him as he sucked on the junction between his neck and jaw.All too soon, Thomas pulled away, grinning deviously at Alexander, mischief in his eyes.Alexander raised a hand to his neck, hissing as he applied pressure to his new wreckage.“ Oh, you’re going to pay for this.”“ Oh, really?”Alexander glared and launched himself forward, listening in satisfaction as Jefferson hissed as his back slid along the carpet before silencing him with a searing, brutal kiss.Jefferson replied just as willingly, but with more force, dragging Hamilton closer.Alexander kissed with a vigor reserved usually for his writings, moaning when Jefferson rolled his hips.Hamilton rolled his hips in response, sniggering into his enemy’s mouth when a high pitched whine escaped his throat.Thomas merely rolled his own hips back up in reply and Hamilton moaned loudly into their kiss.Pretty soon the heated kissing wasn’t enough, and Alexander and Thomas were both fumbling with each other’s clothes. Damn these button-ups!Alexander decided, fuck it, and yanked hard, listening to the buttons fly every which way.Thomas looked appalled, but not unsure as he dragged Hamilton even closer, sitting up, the other in his lap as he ground up into him.Alexander panted hard, his erection straining against his pants, face flushed.Thomas wasn’t much better as he hooked his arms under the tanned legs of his coworker and yanked him up, carrying him to his desk, and laying him across it as he searched said desk for lube. He found it easily enough and Hamilton raised a brow, as if the ask “why?”Jefferson smirked cockily.Hamilton blushed deeply.“ You knew this would happen one day... Didn’t you?”“ Everyone did, darlin’~”Alexander glared and kicked Jefferson into his desk chair before climbing into his lap, undoing his belt and tying it around Thomas’ wrists.“ But did they expect me to be the one to make you scream?”
10660419	Said in Passing	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Jenkins \| Galahad, Ezekiel Jones, Jacob \"Jake\" Stone", "Fandom": "The Librarians (TV 2014)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by hamelott", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-18T00:00:00", "words": "685", "Additional Tags": "jacob is the best big bro, ezekiel is a lil shit, jenkins needs to get control over himself", "Relationship": "Jenkins \| Galahad/Ezekiel Jones", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“I’m not sure you entirely understand, Mr. Stone.”Ezekiel came to a halt next to the door of Jenkins’s laboratory. He had been going there in order to steal a few things for Nessie’s baby and maybe to pester the caretaker because it happened to be one of his favorite pastimes. It appeared that Jenkins was having a serious conversation with Stone if the annoyed tone of voice was any indication.He heard Jacob snort. “Uh huh, sure, Jenkins.”Jenkins let out a sharp breath, and even though Ezekiel couldn’t see him, he knew he was rubbing his temples. “Mr. Stone, while I appreciate your concern, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I have work I need to get done. You being here obstructs that.”“I’m not lettin’ this go,” Jacob insisted. “You’re makin’ a mistake, and I know you know it. Just because you think he wouldn’t-.”“It’s not ‘think’ it’s ‘know’,” Jenkins interrupted him, voice getting a little heated. Ezekiel, who was still leant just outside the door, raised his eyebrows in surprise. Jenkins could get annoyed with them, yeah, but he’d never actually been short with any of them. Ezekiel was a little jealous that it was Jacob who’d finally pushed him over the edge. “Just because you have these delusional ideas does not mean that it’s true.”“Are you kiddin’ me?” Jacob asked, letting out a harsh laugh. “You seriously don’t see it? I know you want to deny it because it’s different and you don’t know how to deal with it, but that kid is in love with you. He’s head over heels for you, and so are you, but you’re too afraid to admit it. You think because you’re immortal or because you don’t look as young as the rest of us makes you completely unlikable, but it doesn’t. I’m not going to let you break his heart, okay?”“I’m not going to-,” Jenkins tried to say, voice getting a little softer.“You may not do it purposefully, but you will,” Jacob snapped. “You need to make a decision, Jenkins. You either need to tell him how you feel about him or let him down easy. I think we both know what you want to do; it’s just a matter of if you’ll grow the balls to or not.”Ezekiel stiffened when he heard Jacob’s boots stomping towards the door. He was debating running off down the hall or staying there and facing the consequences when Jenkins’s voice piped up, “You’re right.”Jacob’s footsteps stopped. “Yeah, I know….what about?”“I should tell him,” Jenkins said, sighing. Ezekiel felt his heartrate kick up a few notches. “He deserves to know…whether he actually feels the same or not.”Ezekiel could hear the warm smile in Jacob’s voice as he said, “You’d be lucky to have each other; he knows that.”“I’ll…” Jenkins hesitated before he let out a small laugh, “grow some balls.” Jacob laughed and his footsteps picked up again before stopping when Jenkins said, “And Mr. Stone? Thank you.”“Eh, it’s no trouble,” Jacob said lightly. “I think having such a big family back at home gives me this weird urge to take care of all y’all too. Just…do me a favor?”“Yes?” Jenkins asked, the hesitation clear in his voice.“When you do tell him, make sure he knows it,” Jacob said. “Ezekiel’s a hard guy to convince that you care about him. Just like…throw in a kiss, yeah? Seal the deal.”Ezekiel felt himself flush and heard Jenkins’s embarrassed laugh accompanied with Jacob’s loud, boisterous one. He hadn’t even realized Jacob was leaving until he nearly ran into him. He glanced up and met Jacob’s eyes. Jacob, quickly realizing Ezekiel had heard everything, sent him a wink and nudged him towards Jenkins’s door.“Guess eavesdropping does pay off for you sometimes, huh?” Jacob whispered, a smirk on his face. He wandered off down the hall, whistling a causal tune slightly off-key as he walked.Yeah, Ezekiel thought to himself, adjusting his clothes slightly and checking his breath. It really does.
10600152	Punk and the Pastel	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Saeran Choi, Yoosung Kim", "Fandom": "Mystic Messenger (Video Game)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by COMFORTYART", "chapters": "3/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-11T00:00:00", "words": "9,868", "Additional Tags": "Punk and Pastel AU, Fluff, a lot of fluff, First Kiss, Eventual Smut, i'll add tags as i go", "Relationship": "Saeran Choi/Yoosung Kim", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Saeran perched his head on his hand, elbow resting on the counter he was stood behind, watching the customer he’d just rung up leave the store. He let out a soft sigh as he drummed a few fingers against the black marble table he was leant against. The store he stood in was small, a part of a much bigger mall. The walls were painted black, just as most of the clothes were in colour, and the counter sat in the middle of the room. Saeran originally got the job having enjoyed the clothing range, it fitting his aesthetic perfectly, having enjoyed even more that he could wear his usual clothes to work. He sported one of his many band shirts and a pair of tightly fit ripped jeans, the colour matching the rest of his wardrobe - black. He also wore a genuine leather jacket with polished metal spikes that covered his shoulders, and his hair was a natural red, messy and grown out. His eyes were a bright mint green that always seemed to light up his face, and his accessories included a beautiful leather collar and a cross earring in each ear, along with two small snake bite piercings on his bottom lip.At first glance the gig was ideal, he felt comfortable in his clothes and got a discount on something he actually found practical. The real problem was the wannabes that always found their way into the store, the ones who thought they could pull off this look but clearly were just going through a phase. He always found them so annoying, loud and full of smiles, bright clothes and a clear lack of eye liner. Worst yet the use of the word “emo”. Saeran stared out the door of the empty store, his mind wandering far from the place he was. He’d been distracted lately, a fond memory tugging at his mind whenever it got the chance. How disgusting was it to be so hung up over something so insignificant, yet, he still found himself lost in thought. He let out another sigh, slowly reliving the night in his thoughts. If only he’d gone about the night a little differently, maybe he wouldn’t of been sitting around with, bleh, regrets. ___________________________________________________________ The music was loud, song recognisable even from outside the house, and cars were parked all the way up the road, red cups littering the yard. Saeran couldn’t remember why he had agreed to come, frowning as he made his way up the driveway. A coworker had invited him, no, begged him to come, knowing very well it had been rare for Saeran to leave the house. They claimed this would be good for him, even threatening to cut his hours if he hadn’t shown up.Saeran let out an annoyed groan as he raised his hand to knock on the door, only to have it swing open seconds before his hand made contact. A woman much smaller than him stood before him, leaning forward to grab his arm and drag him in, the door slamming behind him as it was thrown shut and he was pulled towards the living area. Saeran tugged his arm away as they reached the door frame to the next room and brushed the arm of his leather jacket back into place, pursing his lips as he glared down at the girl. “What, not even a hello?” he growled, letting out a huff. “Oh come’on Sae-sae, don’t be such a buzz kill! I asked you to come to help you loosen up, meet some people, not so you could come bring the party down!” Her voice was loud and she smelt of alcohol, the woman standing before him was no other than his coworker, Hyorin. Despite being utterly obnoxious, he’d found himself calling her his friend, or something like that, and as much as he hated shit like this, he agreed to come along, for her. He rolled his eyes, averting his gaze, eyes wandering to the party in the room they’d been hovering just outside of. “You know I can’t stand this kind of thing,” He groaned. “Why the hell did you think a University house party would be the perfect place to drag me, anyways?”“Oh lighten up, we’re gonna have so much fun!” Her movements were fast, slipping behind him to push him over the threshold and into the room, smiling as she waved her hand to get everyone’s attention. “Hey everyone! Saeran’s here! Let’s start this party!” Everyone cheered, quite incoherently, earning another groan in annoyance from Saeran as he watched his coworker join the crowd before him.He scanned the room, eyes glancing for somewhere to wait out the next hour before inevitably making an excuse to get the fuck out of here. His eyes came to rest on a small couch in the far corner, away from the cluster of people that sat around the table that rested in the middle of the room. Saeran took a seat with a huff, slowly sinking into the couch and leaning back, eyes glaring down at the floor as he made an attempt to drown out the disgusting music that filled the air. Nothing close to what he enjoyed listening to. It wasn’t long before his peace and, what he wished was quiet, was interrupted. A small voice spoke out to him gently, one he thought he recognized. “Saeran! Oh wow it really is you!”Saeran’s gaze looked up curiously, eyebrows raising gently in surprise to meet the younger boys gaze, eyes big and purple just as they’d always been. Yoosung sat down next to him and beamed as his eyes went over Saeran’s features, taking in everything that had changed. It had been close to three years since he’d seen any of the RFA besides his annoying brother and his wife. Saeran reflected on himself momentarily; his style had changed considerably and he had a few extra tattoo’s, as well as a few piercings. It took him a few moments to gather his thoughts, the whole situation throwing him off considerably - the last thing he had expected was to see someone he knew. “Y...Yoosung, right?” The blond sitting across from him nodded enthusiastically, clear that he’d been excited he remembered his name. The younger boy had changed drastically himself, he looked cleaner, and more put together. His blond hair was dyed a light blue at the tips, and everything he wore was soft, light colours, almost the exact opposite to the dark black attire Saeran was sporting. “You look so good, Saeran!” Yoosung chimed, his voice having a certain excited tone to it. Saeran looked at him with one raised brow, a bit confused. Yoosung gave a shocked look and shook his head, putting his hands up. “Oh, no I don’t mean...I meant to say,” he stuttered as he tried to look for words, suddenly flustered over what his original statement must have sounded like. “It’s just, it’s great to see you out and about, last time I saw you…” he paused before flashing another smile. “It’s just good to see you, Saeran…” Saeran simply stared back in silence before letting out a long sigh. “It’s good to see you too, Yoosung.” As stressful, and annoying, as this party was, he would admit it was nice to see a familiar face. One that was kind and easy to read, no fear of ulterior motives. Yoosung beamed and relaxed into the sofa. He went to open his mouth but he was interrupted by the sudden outbreak in the middle of the room as the group shoved two unsuspecting guests into the small closet just outside the room. Saeran frowned as he glared over as everyone chanted, the small room being locked as the group began to count down. “How annoying,” Saeran scoffed, rolling his eyes as he watched. “What an idiotic game, forcing two random people into an uncomfortable and ridiculous situation.” Yoosung blinked a few times as he watched Saeran talk, eyes going between him and the group of drunken students. “Hey Saeran! You’re next!” Saeran’s gaze shot towards his friend’s and glared over, mint eyes shooting a cold look towards his coworker, telling her this wasn’t a joke, he wasn’t about to kiss a stranger. Maybe after tonight they wouldn’t be friends anymore.Yoosung’s eyes moved quickly between the two, watching as Hyorin made her way towards them, and how it almost seemed that Saeran’s gaze grew colder by the second. Yoosung jumped up and stood between them.“H-hey, don’t do this to him at his first party, it’s not fair.” he pleaded.Saeran’s gaze watched Yoosung in surprise, he didn’t expect for him to stick up for him, not that he needed it. She smiled at Yoosung, coming to his side and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Whaaaat, Yoosung? You don’t have a crush on dear Saeran, do you? Trying to come to his rescue like some sort of knight in shining armour?” Her speech was slurred and the smell of her breath made Yoosung wince.“N-no! Of course not! That’s not...that’s not it at all!” Yoosung couldn’t help but go red, feeling the warmth in his face rising at the accusation. Hyorin raised her arm and waved over to a few friends as she watched them open the closest, laughing as the two students stumbled out looking rather disheveled. “Hey guys! Come help me! These two aren’t gonna go easy~” She cooed, and Yoosung felt himself heat up as he panicked, looking back towards Saeran who shot glares towards the men making their way towards him. She laughed as she held tightly onto Yoosung as he tried to wriggle away, the much larger men easily taking him and Saeran by the arms and dragging them towards the closet. Saeran made a fuss, yelling and swearing for them to get the fuck away from him and that they’d fucking regret it if they didn’t put him down immediately. The door shut with a slam, the nob making a noticeable click from the outside as the boys stood in darkness, pushed up against each other. “Fuck.” Saeran growled, Yoosung grateful it was dark in the room considering how embarrassed he felt at the moment. Pushed up to a hot guy, he couldn’t help himself. “Sorry you got dragged into this,” Saeran spat, pissed off as he leaned his head against the wall. “She’s so dead set on messing with me, it’s my fault you got dragged into this.” Yoosung could hear the hint of sincerity under the obvious annoyance, and he gently raised a hand to rest it reassuringly on his arm. “Hey, don’t blame yourself…” Yoosung laughed dryly, shaking his head. “She know’s I’ve never kissed anyone, I think it was you that got dragged into this.” Saeran blinked a few times before leaning back, tilting his head questioningly to look at Yoosung as if he could see him in the dark. “Wait…you’ve never kissed anyone before?” Saeran asked, rather surprised, and almost unbelieving. He expected women, and men, would be all over Yoosung. It wasn’t as if he was unattractive, in fact he could even bring himself to admit he was kind of cute.“You have?” Yoosung squeaked. He sounded surprised, as if he expected Saeran to be the last one to have done something so, intimate with someone. “No wait! I didn’t...mean to sound so surprised.” Yoosung frowned at his own accusation - of course he had, look at him. Well, not that he could right this second. Saeran let out a small chuckle, rolling his eyes. “Idiot.” he whispered. Yoosung pouted and let out a huff, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms.“Oh I’m sorry, we can’t all be as hot as you, cuteness doesn’t get you very far, you know? You probably have people throwing themselves at you to get kissed. I get locked in a room for seven minutes in heaven and all I get is being called an idiot. I’m sorry it’s not as easy for us cute guys.” Yoosung let out an annoyed sound and continued to pout, only blinking into confusion when he heard a soft laugh coming from the darkness in front of him. “Is this your way of asking me to kiss you~?” Saeran cooed. Yoosung felt his face heat up again and before he could open his mouth to complain he was pinned against the wall, another set of lips holding him there. He let out a small noise, his body tensing, feeling as if he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. Saeran slowly moved his hands to Yoosung’s side, slowly moving them up and down in attempt to relax the younger boy, smiling against his lips as he ever so slightly pulled away. “You planning on kissing back? Or just planning to stand there after making such a big deal about it.”He waited a few moments for a reply before feeling the blond’s hands come to his jaw, hands shaking immensely as he slowly pulled Saeran back towards him. He smiled as he pushed his lips softly against the other boy’s, moving slowly and guiding him as he learned the rhythm. Saeran pushed deeper, causing Yoosung to let out a sigh, practically melting against the larger boy as he let him show him what he’s been missing.Saeran slowly opened his mouth, tongue gliding across Yoosung’s bottom lip, causing him to jump at the feeling before happily obliging and opening his mouth. Saeran groaned as he pushed his tongue inside Yoosung’s mouth, moving his body up against him and pinning him tightly against the wall. Yoosung let out a soft moan, hands still shaking as he slowly snaked them up into Saeran’s hair, grabbing onto it tightly. He felt so hot, mind dizzy as he felt as light as air against Saeran’s body, the whole situation feeling so unreal. Their tongues slowly slid together, hot breath mixing as they pushed and pulled at each other, getting lost in the heated moment. The door clicked and Saeran let out a grunt, pushing Yoosung away as he moved to lean as far as he could from the other boy, averting his gaze and looking away quite bored. Yoosung stood breathlessly, eyes squinting as the door swung open and light poured into the room. The loud sounds of the party rung in Yoosung’s ears, the noise slowly drawing him back from his daze, eyes soon finding themselves on Saeran. He felt a tinge of pain in his chest, the bored and uninterested expression that sat on Saeran’s face leaving him feeling dejected. It’d been his first kiss, and from what he could tell it had felt heated and passionate, but the look on Saeran’s face told him the polar opposite. Saeran waved his hand and frowned as he walked out of the closet. “Alright, haha, very funny, can I go now? Sorry this just isn’t my kind of party.” He chanced a glance back at Yoosung and smirked before turning his attention back to Hyorin. She pouted and gave a big sigh, clearly upset that she hadn’t been able to trick him into a little make out session, or so she thought. She gave him a nod and made a shooing motion with her hands, a playful smile dancing across her lips before making a turn back to the party. Saeran let out a sigh of relief and turned to leave, eyes catching Yoosung’s as he passed. Yoosung felt himself heat up again, opening his mouth to say something but not having the words. Saeran raised his eyebrows and let a smirk cross his face once more, eyes looking Yoosung up again before meeting his gaze.“You sure that’s your first time? Not bad~” He cooed, teasing Yoosung as he made his way for the door, waving a hand to say goodbye as he made his leave. “See you around!” he called, stepping out the door, and back into the cold. ___________________________________________________________ A part of him wishes he hadn’t made such a dash for it. Maybe he should have stayed, or at least told Yoosung to text him. Little did he know the blond would be so stuck in his mind after that night that he found himself constantly daydreaming of that evening. What would have happened if he stayed longer? Or if he’d dragged Yoosung home for himself…He inwardly kicked himself for not making a move when he had the chance. As much as he tried his best to keep up his bad boy attitude, he couldn’t help the fact he’d become lovestruck over a boy he kissed two months ago and might never see again. Saeran groaned as he laid his head down on the counter, cursing himself for these stupid mistakes, just wishing he could see him one more time. God, would he do anything just to lay his eyes on those purple orbs that carried such innocence, to see that cute dyed hair and adorable wash of pastel colours. He let out a long sigh and quietly whined to himself, fuck this crush was going to ruin his image if he kept this up.“Saeran! Is that you? I didn’t know you worked here! Have you seen Hyorin? I was supposed to meet her here when she was done work..” Saeran’s head snapped up at the familiar chirpy voice, the same one that'd been ringing in his ears for months.Yoosung. Saeran’s eyes were wide and he stared almost in disbelief, shocked by what was exactly going on. “Y-Yoosung! Hey! Oh uhm...she’s not actually working today, are you sure you have the right date?” He struggled to stay calm, a slight excited beat added to his voice as he watched the other boy turn pink. “O-oh no...did I...did I get the wrong day? Oh gosh that’s embarrassing..” Saeran watched as Yoosung fidgeted and stared at the floor. Gosh he was way too adorable, anyone could see that, no matter how hardcore they were. Saeran chuckled and shook his head.“It’s fine, it’s a simple mistake!” Saeran glanced at the clock and almost without thought the words were spilling out of his mouth. “Hey, if you want, I’m off in ten if you’d like to get some coffee?”Yoosung’s head flicked up to catch Saeran’s gaze, face going more noticeably red than before, a small smile coming across his face.“I...I’d like that.” he said slowly.Yoosung’s heart pounded heavy in his chest, the memories from all those nights ago still clear in his own head, a bit of excitement growing in his chest. Saeran smiled and gave a nod.“I’ll see you soon then~” he said, a small smirk on his face as he raised one eyebrow. Yoosung gave a nod and raised his hand to wave as he made his way out of the store. Saeran watched closely as Yoosung left before letting half of his body collapse back onto the counter. Did that really just happen? Is this real? His heart rate was unreal, and he could hardly believe someone so cute, someone so harmless, could have such an effect on him. He let out a long sigh and sat up, checking himself in the mirror, fixing his hair and anything else that looked out of place. “Time to turn on the charm.” He whispered to himself, slowly getting the store ready to pass the shift over, giving an unemotional wave as the next employee made their way in. He ran his hand through his hair and caught sight of Yoosung waiting just outside, smiling to himself as he strode out of the store. Alright Saeran, it’s go time. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Saeran cleared his throat to get Yoosung’s attention, his grin turning into a smirk as he caught the lovely lavender eyes in his gaze, looking the other boy up and down. Yoosung gave a shy smile, his cheeks tinted pink as he turned to look towards the taller boy, lifting his left hand to give a wave. Saeran felt his heart pound a bit faster in his chest, his body not much more than a couple feet from the boy he’d been daydreaming about, doing everything he could to keep his eyes from dropping to those cursed lips that left him wanting more. “Hey! How was work?” Yoosung asked, his fingers fidgeting, voice quieter than it usually was as he shyly tried to start conversation. Saeran gave a nod, shoving both his hands in his pockets, flicking his head to the side to move the hair from his eyes. “Hey. It wasn’t too bad.” He gave Yoosung a soft smile that drove the blond crazy, chest tightening at the sight and feeling his face heat further. “How about you, did you have class today?” “Oh!” Yoosung chimed in, shaking his head. “No, I was actually working today, I work here in the mall.” Yoosung must have seen the confusion that hit Saeran’s face in that moment, panicking over the response. “Huh? What’s wrong?” Yoosung questioned, whipping his head to look behind him, confused by Saeran’s expression. Saeran shook his head slightly, putting up a hand and waving it back and forth. “Oh, no, it’s nothing. I’m just shocked we hadn’t seen each other sooner.” Saeran gave a small gesture for Yoosung to follow him and the blond quickly moved to come to the redhead’s side. Yoosung let out a hum, chewing his lip as he thought, the action catching Saeran’s eye, causing him to repress a groan.“That is weird...Though we do work on different floors. Now that you mention it...I am kind of disappointed we never saw each other.” Yoosung trailed off, bringing a hand to rub the back of his head as he brought his gaze up to meet the mint one watching him. “I-I mean…” Yoosung struggled for words, scared he may have made it a little too obvious he’d wanted to see him so badly. “What would you like?” Saeran questioned, catching Yoosung off guard, his mind blank for a moment before snapping his eyes up to the board in front of him. He’d been so caught up in conversation he hadn’t even realized they’d made it to the small coffee shop at the end of the hall. It was small, nothing more than a counter with a few tables around it.“Oh, uhm...just a latte please.” His tone was suddenly shy, watching Saeran as he gave a nod and turned to make the order. Yoosung felt himself start to fidget, worrying he’d said something wrong, slowly finding it harder to breathe. Saeran pulled out his wallet, handing the woman cash and flashing her a soft smile as she went to make their drinks. He cleared his throat, averting his gaze and running a hand through his hair before sticking his hands back in his pockets. “I uh, I’m pretty disappointed we hadn’t crossed paths earlier too.” Saeran kept his gaze distant, a small blush gracing his cheeks at the confession. Yoosung’s eyes widened, a smile covering his face as he stared up at Saeran, hardly able to believe what he could see. Saeran caught the look on his face and frowned as he grabbed both the coffee cups from the counter, reaching out to hand the smaller boy his. “What?” Saeran asked accusingly. Yoosung shook his head and smiled brightly. “It’s nothing.” Saeran gestured over to the table, turning his chair around to sit on it backwards, leaning over the back and resting both his arms against it. He took a sip of his coffee before placing it down on the table, bringing his full attention up to Yoosung and flashing him a grin, causing the blond to shift in his seat. “So…,” Yoosung started, staring down at his hands in his lap. “What have you been up to...since, since...you know - the party?” His eyes looked up at Saeran through his hair, feeling butterflies turning in his chest as he brought up that night.Saeran shrugged, reaching to take another sip of his drink, holding it in his hand instead of putting it back down. “Not much, mostly just work.” He tapped his finger on the top of his cup, eyes watching the blond, god he was adorable.Saeran smirked, head tilting a bit to catch Yoosung’s wandering gaze, mint eyes soft as he stared over at the other boy. “You aren’t thinking about that kiss, are you~?” He questioned, watching Yoosung jump letting out a squeak, heat rushing to his face. Saeran let out a small chuckle, reaching across the table to move some hair from Yoosung’s eyes, his touch lingering a little too long before pulling away. “I-” Yoosung leaned away, his eyes darting anywhere they could to avoid Saeran’s eyes, biting on his lip as he tried to find the words. “Do...do you like me? Because, if you don’t...this is mean.” Saeran raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden change of pace, blinking a few times, brow furrowing. “It’s just…” Yoosung continued. “You left so fast...I just want to make sure...this isn’t a game to you.” Yoosung reached for his latte, taking a small sip before finally finding the nerves to meet Saeran’s gaze. His chest was tight and he felt sick, he was finally going to get an answer, an answer to the question that’d be keeping him up at night. Was his first kiss the start of something potentially more….or just a fluke like he’d been scared of. Saeran let out a laugh, smiling as he shook his head. “Of course I like you, why else would I have asked you out for coffee?” Yoosung let out a yelp, his stomach turning over the accusation he’d made, suddenly embarrassed. His hands fiddled with the top to his coffee cup, distracting his gaze and giving him a reason to look away. “Oh...well I...like you...too.” His smile was soft when he looked up from his cup, hand coming to push some hair from his eyes. “Yeah, I kinda got that.” Saeran retorted with another chuckle, bringing his coffee up for another sip before placing it back on the table. “You haven’t exactly been subtle.” He smirked, the gesture causing Yoosung to go red all too easily. “It’s not like I’ve liked you all this time or anything, It’s just...after...the party, I couldn’t stop thinking about it...is all.” He brought his drink up to his mouth but didn’t take a sip, simply rubbing it against his mouth as he waited for a reply. Saeran dropped his gaze, staring down at his coffee before bringing it back up to his mouth. “I thought the game was just as stupid as you did, I wouldn’t have made a move if I didn’t think you were cute.” His eyes flashed up to meet the purple ones that watched him intently. “With that said...I’ve found myself in a similar situation - I just can’t get my mind off of you.”Yoosung felt his face heat up, quickly turning to look away with a small smile tugging at his lips as he put his coffee back down on the table, letting himself process what he’d just been told. His eyes were soft when he finally looked up, face still tinted red. “I did worry that...maybe it’d been a joke to you, flustering me like you did and leaving me stranded.” Yoosung let out a gentle laugh, sighing as he let the thought hang in the air before continuing. “I always knew deep down you’d never do that.” Saeran smiled, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand, elbow leaning on the table. “You really are cute, you know that?” Yoosung jumped at the sudden compliment, turning his head away in attempt to run from Saeran’s gaze. Saeran let out a chuckle, taking in Yoosung’s current appearance and committing it to memory. “So how about a date then?” Yoosung’s mouth dropped open and his head whipped around to see Saeran taking a swig of his coffee. “W-wait really? You mean it?” Yoosung’s eyes were wide, his pupils dilated as he looked on in shock. He could hardly believe what he was hearing and a part of him was waiting for Saeran to say he was just kidding. “Oh, don’t tell me you aren’t interested~ Ah well, I guess I tried-”“No! Please, I mean yes, I…” Yoosung stumbled over his words in a panic, taking a moment to breathe in, closing his eyes while he gathered his thoughts. “That’d be really nice.” He finally said, voice more passive and soft, twiddling his thumbs, a gentle smile spreading across his face.Saeran’s smile grew, tipping his cup back to finish his coffee before putting it back down on the table. “I could pick you up from work one day, seems like it’d be the easiest choice, when do you work next?” Saeran stood and turned his chair around, pushing it back under the table as he waited for a response, Yoosung seemingly in a state of thought while he considered his work hours.“Uh, on Friday, I’m off at 5.” Saeran gave a nod, flashing Yoosung a smirk, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side to flash him a wink as well. “Sounds like a date, then.” He watched and waited for Yoosung’s cheeks to go red, his small flirtatious actions never seeming to fail. Yoosung nodded and gave a smile, his face suddenly flashing with realisation, eyes widening at the thought. “Oh! I haven’t told you where I work yet!” Yoosung stood up to push his chair in as well, taking a few steps towards Saeran. “I’m on the far side of the mall, in the brightly coloured cosmetic store.” Yoosung scratched the back of his head. “You know, Lush.” He said, with a sheepish grin. Saeran blinked a few times, looking down the hall as if he could see it, before looking back to meet Yoosung’s gaze. “You mean the one you can smell from five stores down?” He teased, before shaking his head with a chuckle, watching Yoosung roll his eyes at him. “I know the one, don’t worry.”Yoosung cracked a smile before putting out his hand for Saeran, the redhead staring down at the hand before meeting it with his own, shaking it twice before letting go. “I...I guess I’ll see you for our date.” Yoosung squeaked before giving a wave and turning to leave, his chest fluttering at the thought, excitement coursing through him as he made his way home. Saeran watched the blond take his leave, his own chest feeling rather tight as his gaze lingered on the younger boy. Though the excitement masked it well, he still carried a hint of worry, the underlying feeling of his inability to trust coursing through him. He knew Yoosung was fairly unlikely to lie to him, but the knowledge of him never being in a relationship left him with lingering doubt that he was really interested in him, and not just his looks.Saeran suppressed the feeling as he made his way home for the evening, deciding that whatever happened he would do his best to enjoy it for the time being, knowing someone as sweet as Yoosung could never fall for what he was, especially knowing his past. Saeran grimaced for a moment before his thoughts hit a brick wall, frowning to himself as his brother came to thought.God he really hoped Yoosung wouldn’t go blabbing to him about this, especially before they’d even gone on a date. The last thing he wanted was his brother ringing him up to ask a bunch of questions. He scoffed, hoping nothing of the sort would come up, at least not yet. __________________________________________ Saeran ignored his coworker as she pressed him for questions about his date, refusing to give her any information as he moved quickly to clock out and rush out of the store, giving her a wave with his back turned to the register. She called out to wish him luck and his wave turned into a thumbs up as he turned around the corner to head for the escalator.Saeran walked down the long hall, nose scrunching up at the strong scent of the store he was headed towards. He slowed his pace as he approached, checking his phone and seeing he was early. Poking his head into the entrance, his eyes scanned to store, the large amount of brightly coloured soap obstructing his view. Saeran took a step into the store, eyes looking over to the cash register, a friendly woman flashing him a smile and giving him welcome. He raised his hand and gave a nod in response before taking a few more steps in, nose overwhelmed with hundreds of different scents he’d never experienced before now. He reached out towards the bundle of small round bath bombs, stacked together as if they were apples at a supermarket. Bringing it to his nose, he blinked and his eyes widened, leaning in to taking another long sniff. “Saeran!” Saeran jumped, almost dropping the bath bomb, before placing it down and turning to look towards where I heard his name. Yoosung wore a cute black apron that read “Lush” on it over his usual mismatched pastel attire, bangs pinned back with a cute glittery barrette. The blond smiled brightly as he walked over to greet the redhead, face already turning pink as he met the mint gaze. Saeran smiled softly, putting his hands in his pockets. “Hey there, sorry I’m early.” Yoosung shook his head, reaching out a hand to squeeze Saeran’s arm gently before retracting it and reaching for the bath bomb he’d been smelling. “Don’t worry about it, I’m glad to see you here.” Yoosung lifted the small ball to his nose and took a few soft whiffs of the scent. “Apple cinnamon huh? I always thought you’d be more of a metamorphosis kinda guy.” He snorted.Saeran raised and eyebrow before scanning along the row of names and colours, finding the one in question and taking a few steps towards it.“I like the colour.” His eyes scanning it as he raised it up in his hand. Black, like the rest of what he owned. He slowly raised it to his nose and let out a small hum. “What is it?” He questioned, the smell not hitting home immediately. Yoosung took it from his hand and smelt it softly himself. “I believe it’s a combination of spices, like pepper and cinnamon leaf, very gentle, but strong.” He said softly, before coughing to clear his throat. “It’d suit you well.” Saeran opened his mouth to comment but was cut off by a coworker coming up beside them to let Yoosung he was off the hook for the day. Yoosung smiled and gave a nod, placing the bath bomb down and reaching behind him to take off his apron. “Ready to go?” He asked, eyes bright as he looked up at Saeran. The coworker gasped with a smile, interjecting onces more, here eyes turning to look over at Yoosung. “Yoosung! Is this your date?” Yoosung blushed and stuttered a bit, never getting coherent words out, allowing himself to be cut off by her once more, her attention now turned to Saeran. “Wait, are you Yoosung’s boyfriend!?” Saeran smirked as he watched Yoosung’s face go beet red, and almost without a second shot he turned to her with his eyes bright and smirk strong.“Yeup.” He replied, eyes shifting to watch Yoosung’s reaction, the blond letting out a high-pitched sound as his eyes quickly snapped to Saeran’s. “B-Boyfriend?” He squeaked, hopping back and tripping into the bath bombs, nearly knocking the entire stand over. Yelping as he hurried to catch any before they fell one dropped into the testing water and fizzed loudly. The girl chuckled softly before shaking her head and coming to help Yoosung, the poor boy flustered, brain almost completely fried by the comment. Saeran watched in amusement before reaching out his hand to help Yoosung stand steady again, watching him fluster further over the idea of such personal contact. He smiled softly standing up straight, hand lingering in Saeran’s before jerking it away at the realisation. Saeran continued to smirk, eye’s playful as he watched the other boy excuse himself quickly to go clock out, chuckling to himself. Yoosung gathered his composure before meeting Saeran at the entrance of the store, smiling softly, Saeran cutting him off before he had the chance to speak.“No reason to apologize, it was adorable.” He teased, though the compliment was genuine. Yoosung let out a sigh and shook his head.“That was absolutely embarrassing.” He hung his head, slowly leaning it against Saeran’s arm, the taller boy gently patting his head. “All you’ve done is made me even more excited for our date~” He cooed. Yoosung’s head snapped up and he looked him in the eyes, looking for some sign of a joke, feeling his heart beat harder at what seemed to be honesty. Yoosung looked away, biting his lip and rubbing the back of his head. “So uhm...boyfriend?” He asked, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt in attempt to calm his nerves. “Did you- did you really mean that? Are we boyfriends?” Saeran hummed and shrugged his shoulders. “Do you want to be? We haven’t even gone on a date yet.” He chuckled. “I hope maybe one day you’ll call me that, but if you aren’t ready, you don’t have to.” He flashed that gorgeous smile of his, causing the blond to blush and look away, contemplating the thought. “I...I don’t think I’m ready to yet...but, I want to think I will someday soon too.” He said with a soft smile, looking up from under his hair. Saeran moved his hand to softly take Yoosung’s and lead him out of the building. “Then until that day, call me whatever you’re comfortable with, and I’ll do the same. No need to get ahead of ourselves.” Yoosung smiled widely and nodded enthusiastically. “Now how about that date.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Saeran pushed the mall door open for Yoosung, letting him walk by him and following him closely as they made their way into the parking lot. Saeran pointed in the direction to where he’d parked and Yoosung gave him a nod and following behind him, his eyes stealing glances of the hot punk boy now walking alongside him. He was still finding it hard to believe Saeran agreed to go out with him of all people, and wasn’t completely sure if this feeling was nerves or excitement.“Here we are.” Yoosung was snapped out of his thoughts by Saeran’s voice, eyes shooting over to the gorgeous bike that stood beside Saeran. It was about half Yoosung’s height and completely jet black in colour, with gorgeous leather seats. Yoosung’s eyes went wide, mouth hanging agape as he rushed over to get a closer look, eyes glancing over every intricate detail.“Wow! This is yours?”Saeran smiled proudly, sitting back on the bike. His eyes moved from the cute boy in front of him to over the bike, his hand slowly caressing the handle.“She’s a Sweet Twin by Triumph; equipped with a liquid cooled, 900cc, 270° parallel twin-cylinder engine. This baby rides real smooth - you may even enjoy the ride more than the date.” He stated with a chuckle, leaning over to pull two helmets out from the back of the bike, handing one over to Yoosung. He looked down at the helmet in his hands before looking up to Saeran.“Wait, I get to ride...with you? On this bike?” Yoosung couldn't help but feel a little excited, heart beating a little faster as he imagined riding down the street, how awesome he'd look on a motorcycle with his cool punk rock date. Saeran grinned and put out a hand, taking Yoosung’s in his and pulling the other boy between his legs. Resting his own helmet on the edge of the seat he picked up Yoosung’s, pushing soft blond hair from the boy's face and gently putting it over his head. He tightened the straps and leaned up to kiss the forehead of his helmet before putting on his own. Yoosung blushed, suddenly finding it harder to breathe as his eyes glanced around watching for anyone who might be looking.He sat closely to his date, his hot date that was about to take him on a motorcycle. His chest fluttered from what he assumed was excitement, if not a little nervousness. Saeran swung his leg over the seat and scooted up, tapping the seat behind him and flashing that award-winning smile. Yoosung climbed on awkwardly, unsure of where to hold onto as he swung his leg over, almost falling off the bike completely in the process. Yoosung looked around in a short panic, letting out a small confused sound.“Saeran, where do I hold on?” Saeran rolled his eyes playfully, reaching back with one hand to take Yoosung’s wrist and bring it around him.“You might wanna come closer, you’re going to want to hold as tightly as possible. Don’t worry cutie, I won’t bite~”There it was again - that smile. Yoosung’s heart pounded in his chest as he slowly shifted up the seat, straddling Saeran and bringing his arms to tightly wrap around the other boy. He knew Saeran would be able to feel his heart as it frantically tried to keep him from dying right there and then. Saeran squeezed the brakes as he turned on the engine, kicking off the stand and holding the bike upright.“You ready?” He called, Yoosung only being able to reply with a quick nod before Saeran let go of the brakes and zoomed out of the parking lot.Yoosung held his breath, grip tightening around the redhead subconsciously, eyes shut tightly as they made their way quickly down the street. Yoosung slowly opened his eyes, looking up at Saeran before looking out at the cars around them, realising he kind of enjoyed the wind blowing against his face - once he got over the initial fear of the situation. He could get used to this.It wasn’t long before they arrived at their destination. The building was long with bright neon lights that trimmed the top, and a bright sign that read “Bowling and Beer”. Saeran parked up, kicking the stand down and taking off his helmet. He hopped off the bike before taking Yoosung’s helmet off for him and locking them both to the back of the bike. Yoosung stared up at the building, before looking back to Saeran who had his hand extended for him, swiftly taking it with a bright smile.Saeran held Yoosung’s hand tightly as he led them inside, the smaller boy taking in the scenery with wide eyes. The inside of the building was a typical bowling set up; a couple lanes with round couches, a bar to the left and the check-in counter to the right. It was quiet and seemed quaint, the manager giving a wave and welcoming them as they entered. “Aaaaay! Saeran! Welcome back~” The larger man called, leaning against the counter with a bright smile on his face. He smelt faintly of smoke, and definitely beer, but he seemed friendly enough, and even more to Yoosung’s surprise he seemed to know Saeran as well.“Hey. Hope you don’t mind me dropping in here with a date, thought it’d be nice to bring him to my favourite hangout spot.” He grinned, letting go of Yoosung’s hand to fetch his wallet and push a few bills towards the man. “A date huh? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with anyone before.” He teased, the man’s eyes moving to Yoosung and his face lit up once more before scanning over the bills and popping open the register. “Drinks are on me then, I hope you two enjoy yourselves!” Saeran put his arm around Yoosung, turning to look at him with gentle eyes before looking back over to the man behind the counter.“I never said I needed you to help me impress.” He chuckled. “Thanks, I hope that you’ll be seeing a lot more of this cutie from now on.” Yoosung blushed, eyes glancing up at the redhead before looking down at the floor, only looking up at the sound of a voice talking to him.“What’s your name, kid? You must be real special to catch this asshole’s attention.” He joked. Yoosung let out a gentle smile, Saeran’s hand on his shoulder giving him a soft squeeze as he got his barrands to open his mouth with an answer. “Yoosung. And I’m sorry but I think you’re mistaken, I think he’s the one...that’s special.” The man paused in shock, only to soon after erupt with laughter in disbelief of what he had just heard. His eyes widened at the sight of Saeran’s cheeks being dusted with a light pink, the usual resting bitch face suddenly appearing much less intimidating. “Yoosung, I hope to see more of you, any friend of Saeran is always welcome.” He grinned, winking at Saeran who responded with an eye roll, dropping his arm from Yoosung’s shoulders and walking with him over to his usual lane. Saeran leaned over the small monitor to input their names into the system, humming as he typed everything out and hit enter, the names appearing on a screen above them. Yoosung frowned and folded his arms, staring up at the board that read “Kyootsung”. Saeran chuckled, walking over to put his hands on Yoosung’s hips, raising an eyebrow.“What, you don’t like it?” He teased, thumbs rubbing softly at Yoosung’s sides. Yoosung huffed and rolled his eyes.“You aren’t getting out of this one with your charm.” He shot. Saeran put both his hands up, a big smile in between them.“Alright, alright, how about next round, you choose my name?” Yoosung continued to pout, staring up at Saeran before letting out a small sigh, hand coming out for the redhead.“You have to shake on it.”Saeran laughed and took Yoosung’s hand, shaking it twice before tightening his grip and pulling Yoosung into him, wrapping his arms tightly around him and exhaling softly. Yoosung blinked a few times, still trying to process what just happened, before slowly bringing his hands around Saeran. “Thank you for coming on this date with me, Yoosung.” He tightened his grip slightly before pulling away with a bright smile on his face, one so genuine it almost made Yoosung’s heart leap from his chest. “T-thank you for asking me, I never imagined that...well, I really can’t believe I’m here with you if I’m honest.” He grinned, stepping closer and leaning up. He paused a few inches from the taller boy’s face, unable to breathe as he considered what he was doing, moving slightly and kissing Saeran on the cheek. Saeran raised his hand, fingers grazing over the spot that tingled slightly from contact, eyes wide and surprised before turning soft and gentle. They stood silently for a few moments before Saeran looked behind them at the bar and raised a hand, waving for the bar tender’s attention before holding up two fingers. The man replied with a nod and turned to crack open two beers for the two of them, making his way over and placing them down at the table. The man grinned at Yoosung before making his leave, and of course the blond smiled shyly back before returning his attention to Saeran.Saeran grabbed his beer and took a swig, wiping his mouth with his sleeve as he made his way up to the lane. He took a familiar red ball in hand, eyeing up the alley before taking a step and a half forward and bowling the ball down with ease, beer still in hand. Yoosung watched in amazement and exclaimed as he watch the ball strike down the middle and knock down every pin. Saeran smirked back at him as he walked back to the chair, taking a seat and crossing his leg. Yoosung stared at him for a few seconds before staring back at the pins.“How often did you say you come here..?” Yoosung asked nervously, suddenly feeling in too deep, he definitely wasn’t going to win with how effortless Saeran made that seem. Saeran shrugged, bringing his beer to his lips once more and swallowing with a big gulp.“I dunno, maybe three, four times a week?” It was clear he was proud of himself, feeling if at all a little guilty for bringing Yoosung here on their first date, and was suddenly aware it may just seem like he was trying to show off. Yoosung stood, taking a quick sip of his own beer before placing it back down. He slowly made his way up, carefully choosing his ball before coming to stand in front of the lane. He took a deep breath, slowly swinging his hand back and using a moderate amount of force to throw the ball towards the pins. The ball went down the middle, eventually veering off to the side and chipping off a few pins on the right. Yoosung let out a groan before turning to get another ball. He chewed his lip as he did his best to line up his shot, taking a deep breath before quickly bowling it forward. The ball rushed down the middle, hitting the front pin and causing the other pins to fall. Yoosung’s face lit up, jumping with his hands in the air as he celebrated. Saeran clapped for him, smiling brightly as he watched the boy congratulate himself. Yoosung rushed over, face bright as he came to sit beside Saeran.“Did you see that!?” He questioned, looking for even the smallest praise for his accomplishment. Saeran chuckled, giving him a nod.“You sure you don't do this often?” Yoosung shook his head, smile still bright, the sight warming Saeran’s heart as he stood to take his turn. “It's my first time actually!” Saeran raised an eyebrow, smirking softly as he picked up his ball, bowling it down the middle with ease and getting another strike. He came back over to Yoosung, giving a hum as he raised a hand to play with a piece of Yoosung’s hair. “Why don't we make this interesting then~” Saeran cooed, the blond's face already pink from the fingers twiddling with his hair. He gave the redhead a confused look and blinked a few times.“...What do you mean?” Yoosung was a bit hesitant, this was basically his first real date, let alone with someone he found so much cooler than him. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself.“How about, if you can get a strike in your first game, I'll give you...hmm, how about a kiss?” “A kiss?” Yoosung yelped.“A kiss.” Saeran let out a small chuckle. “I normally wouldn't kiss on a first date...but I also usually haven't previously tongued my dates in a closet.”Yoosung’s face went beet red, his heart pounding in his chest at the memory of being pushed up so closely to the older boy.“...Deal.”Yoosung reached for his beer, taking a big swig before heading up to grab a ball once more. Sadly his luck wasn't with him, missing every pin but one, starting a trend for the rest of the evening. Saeran on the other hand bowled a perfect game, his final ball gliding down the alley like all the rest. Apparently this was a normal thing for him, and after seeing him in action, Yoosung wasn't surprised. Yoosung’s score varied. He'd done alright in places, getting a few more spares, but more often missing two or three pins on the sides. Yoosung frowned, letting out an annoyed groan. He really really wanted that kiss, and right now, as he stood staring down his final pins, he was convinced he'd never get it. Yoosung sighed, putting hardly to any effort in as he drew his arm back, lazily throwing the ball down the lane. He frowned and turned to go back to Saeran, not bothering to even watch his failure, suddenly wishing that the bottle on the table wasn't so empty. Yoosung was snapped from his thoughts by the sudden eruption of noise around the alley, every worker and Saeran loudly cheering and clapping their hands together. The blond stood watching, blinking a few times before turning to look at the board, eyes widening at the sight. He had done it - he’d got the strike. His face lit up and he looked over to Saeran brightly who had a look that could only be described as proud. He sat up and came over, smile gentle as he brought a hand to Yoosung’s waist.Yoosung swallowed, his whole face burning up as he stared towards beautiful mint eyes. Saeran leaned down kissing Yoosung gently on the cheek, lingering a bit longer than he usually would. He moved his mouth inches from Yoosung’s ear, voice hushed as he whispered.“I hope this is alright for now. I'd rather wait until we're not being stared down by a bunch of drunk assholes.” Saeran pulled away and smiled at the smaller boy, his hand squeezing his side before giving him a wink. Yoosung felt his stomach tighten, a sheepish smile quickly coming to his face. They decided to hang out and play a couple more rounds, and stopped drinking long after the first beer. They moved onto food, ordering pizza and wings to keep them going as they played. Saeran spent most of the evening showing Yoosung different techniques and, well, when he wasn't he was sitting down and watching the view. He really couldn't get enough of the little wiggle Yoosung’s butt did while he lined up the shot.The two took time to say goodbye to all the staff, the manager welcoming Yoosung back anytime he'd like and telling him he was too good for a bad boy like Saeran. As much as he wanted to express how he felt Saeran had the kindest of hearts - he decided in the end that may be too much of a confession for a first date. Yoosung smiled brightly as he held tightly to Saeran’s hand, the two laughing as they made their way back to the bike. Yoosung walked over to examine the bike more closely as Saeran fetched the helmets, hands slowly sliding over the beautifully crafted metal and soft leather seats.Yoosung turned to find Saeran standing closely behind him, spinning completely to face the taller boy. Yoosung smiled and reached to take his helmet, only to have it pulled away last second.“Take a seat, let me do it for you.” Saeran said, smile soft as he rested his own helmet on the handle of the bike. Yoosung giggled and leaned back on his tippy toes until his butt was high enough to sit up on the seat.His purple eyes were beautiful in the golden hour sunlight, the compassion showing in his bright expression. Saeran’s heart pounded in his chest, his gaze catching and lingering on the cute blond’s for a moment too long. Yoosung blinked and tilted his head, the look of confusion washing over his face.“Is everything alright, Saeran?” Saeran laughed breathlessly, a hand coming up to brush some hair from Yoosung’s face. He mocked a confused look, putting the other helmet to rest on the seat next to Yoosung and leaning closer to ‘see more clearly’.“Actually...I think there's something on your face.” He said quizzically.“What!? What's on my face?” Yoosung frowned, slight panic in his voice before the expression was quickly washed away with the pressure of Saeran’s lips on his.Yoosung stuttered for a few moments before quickly closing his eyes and kissing back. He felt like he was going to fall over, head dizzy with the excitement of finally kissing the redhead he'd fallen for so many months before. Saeran pulled away a couple of inches, smirking as his eyes bored into the purple ones before him.“It was me~ I was on your face~” Yoosung rolled his eyes dramatically before reaching up to put his arms around Saeran neck.“Haha, what a comedic genius you are.” He said, smirking back towards the other. “Can you keep kissing me now?” Saeran raised a brow, chuckling softly at Yoosung’s eagerness. It wasn't like him to be so blunt about what he'd wanted.“What~ Right here? You want me to makeout with you in a parking lot?” His teasing tone clearly wasn't making Yoosung anymore patient. Yoosung tugged gently on Saeran’s neck and he smiled fondly, leaning down to push their lips together once more. Yoosung let out a sound of approval, causing Saeran to deepen the kiss, one hand rested on Yoosung’s side, the other on the bike. Yoosung’s hand tangled in Saeran’s hair, arms gripping tightly to have the other boy as close as possible. Saeran let out a low sound of approval, slowly prodded his tongue out and licking at Yoosung’s lips. The younger boy quickly opened his mouth for the other, tongues slowly sliding against each other curiously.The contact made Yoosung moan, he had wanted this so bad, the feeling very different from the first time. They were both so desperate, yet moved so slowly, taking the time to memorize and explore each other. Yoosung let out a disappointed sound as Saeran pulled away, eyes half-lidded as they stared back at an aroused mint gaze. Saeran looked wrecked, more than he'd ever thought he'd see him, the other boy was always so calm and cool, but now - he somehow looked even hotter.Saeran reached up to smooth some hair from Yoosung’s eyes, sighing softly as his eyes scanned the other.“You’re gorgeous.” Yoosung felt his face get hot, shaking his head.“No, trust me, that's you, Saeran.” He slowly let his hands fall from Saeran’s hair, both coming to cup the redheads cheeks to pull him down again for a quick kiss. Saeran smiled, reaching for Yoosung’s helmet and standing up straight.“Fuck.” He let out a soft laugh. “I really don't want to say goodbye yet.”Yoosung sighed, looking up at the redhead hopefully.“Then don't.” Saeran chewed his lip.“You wanna stay at my place tonight?.” Yoosung’s eyes widened, opening his mouth to talk, only to be cut off before he could say anything.“Not for anything like that! I'll take the couch. We can hang out and get to know each other a bit more. I just... really can't get enough of you right now.” His smile was shy, slowly slipping Yoosung’s helmet on and tightening it for him. Yoosung shook his head.“I'll take the couch.” Saeran’s felt his heart jump at the answer, sudden excitement bouncing through him.“Is that a yes?”“It's a yes~”
10611909	Sailing with the Dead	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": null, "Characters": "Merrill (Dragon Age), Varric Tethras, Anders (Dragon Age), Male Hawke, Fenris (Dragon Age), Aveline Vallen, Dorian Pavus, Sera (Dragon Age), Male Mahariel", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by Talc", "chapters": "2/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-13T00:00:00", "words": "8,896", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Morticians, dead bodies, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Minor Character Death", "Relationship": "Isabela/Merrill", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Modern Thedas AU", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "F/F, M/M", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	There’s no shelf near the single window of her shabby apartment, or even a sill for which she can place her plant on, so she drags a pile of boxes over to the window and lines them up so there’s room for the sun on top. They’re empty now, since she finished unpacking, so she can tape the boxes together and put the ceramic pot on top of the make-shift shelf, stepping back so she can look at how the light falls on its leaves.It’s mint, mentha suaveolens, something she’d heard shems call apple mint. A gift from Mahariel a long time ago, back when both still lived with the clan, back when Mahariel hadn’t disappeared. Merrill had kept the plant all these years, kept it watered and learned an awful lot to keep it healthy. It helped her not miss her friend so much, but did nothing for the guilt.Her little apartment seems so empty. All she has is a cot and a pile of boxes next to her little kitchen area, and the bathroom. It’s dark, and dingy, and she thinks there’s a hole in the wall but she can’t really tell. It’s not her…She pulls a box out of another box and flicks through it to find a paintbrush and a set of paints. Sitting cross legged on the floor, she paints her stack of boxes, swirling vines with flowers and rainbows and halla. She uses a lot of paint, but afterwards she feels a lot better.Merrill has no food. She’d forgotten about that part. She gathers what she needs and leave to go to the supermarket. She learns her first new big lesson as she walks down the city street; shemlens are weird. They wear shoes everywhere they go, and stare at her with cross faces, like she did something bad. One of them calls her ‘rabbit’, which she thinks is quite sweet. She likes rabbits, they’re cute, and if you can catch one, they’re tasty. She smiles at the shem who calls her this and he glares.Must be having a bad day.The supermarket is odd. She’s been to a market before, but not one inside a building, and not one quite so large. She wanders down the aisles and tries to find food, but there’s lots of things to choose from, and she doesn’t know what people living on their own are supposed to buy. If she were still in the clan, it’d be simple. She’d know what meats to get, and what vegetables, and fruits. She’d know all the grains and herbs for large suppers. But Merrill remembers there’s no reason to get certain meats if she doesn’t like them, and no reason to get the vegetables she used to get because she’s not cooking for the clan, just herself.She buys a bag of apples and a loaf of bread and a bottle of mead. The shem at the register makes her show them her license when she tries to buy the mead, and seems unconvinced that she’s 23. Merrill buys a plate and some cutlery, and a mug, for she doesn’t have these things. She likes the mug, it has a nug on it. Nugs are cute.She returns to her apartment, smiling at the people she passes. There’s a man outside the building wrapped in a blanket, slumped against the wall. He looks sad, so Merrill gives him one of her apples, and she sees a genuine smile for the first time in days. She missed that.Her apartment is colder than how she left it. The sun has since set, and the light won’t turn on. Merrill lights candles and eats her bread and apples. She drinks the whole bottle of mead. It’s sour, and thin, and nothing like the honeyed blackberry mead she’d had in the past, but it warms her belly and coaxes the loneliness away. She goes to sleep with a blurry head, and the sounds of the city in her ears. She misses home.-She dresses in nice clothes. A blouse and a pair of dress pants. She wears a jacket because it’s cold. It’s long and has lots of buttons on it, and many pockets, which she likes. She wears her amulet because she feels like she needs it, especially today.Merrill has never taken a bus before, but she has to take one today. If everything goes well, she’ll have to take it every day. The bus is crowded and unfriendly. Merrill tries to sit in the few open seats, but people glare and hiss at her, so she stands and clings to a metal pole. Geez, trains are easier than this. Merrill misses trains.Still, she gets to her stop early. She walks down the street and timidly approaches her building. Slowly, she opens the door.The building is quiet, dark, and empty.“Hello?” Merrill calls out. Was she too early? She didn’t think she was too early… “Hello?”“Keep your voice down.” A voice groans to her left. Merrill jumps and whirls to look inside the nearby office, where someone is sitting at a desk in the dark, head buried in their arms.That day, Merrill learned her new boss was an alcoholic.-Mr. Dorian Pavus was a good boss, despite being hungover upon their first meeting. It’s fine, Merrill had been drinking the night before as well. Mead gives nasty hangovers, but she knew how to take care of them.She had her boss some tea before he sat down and talked to her about her new job. Mr. Pavus had been very surprised to find out she was Dalish. This was easy to understand, Merrill was the only Dalish mortician she had ever met. The elves traditionally don’t really have embalming, so her interest in the subject was odd, to say the least.“So, you apprenticed in Kirkwall?” Mr. Pavus asks, looking over her resume. She’d already gotten the job, but it seemed her boss wanted to ‘get to know her’ a little better.“Yes, sir. My clan had been staying in the mountains nearby, and I was able to receive an education and find an apprenticeship.” Merrill explains.“You can stop calling me sir. It makes me feel old.” Mr. Pavus says tiredly. “I went to Kirkwall once. Horrible place.” He wrinkles his nose.“Oh yes, it’s very dirty and dark. But the people are nice. Much smaller than here, though. I’ve never seen so many people in one place, it’s very intimidating. Do people die more often in cities? Oh, that sounded insensitive. Death is just very interesting andI’mbabblingjustignorethatsorry.” Merrill grimaces inwardly. Oh, she wasn’t doing too good at this talking thing.“Think nothing of it.” Pavus waves away her awkward comment. “Come, I will give you a tour of the building.”By the end of the day, Merrill has found herself quite happy with her new job. She works until late in the night, refusing to leave until her boss does as well. The bus has stopped running by then, and Merrill walks herself home. Well, not home. Her apartment is not home yet. She doubts it ever will be.She passes by a bar and thinks of her lacklustre mead. She’s never been to a bar before…The Hanged Man is dark and filled with frowning people and laughing people and drunk people. The bar itself is mostly empty, though, so Merrill takes a seat there, swinging her legs and thinking, waiting.“What’s your poison?” A gruff says close to her ear and she jumps, just a little.“Poison? I don’t think I have a poison, I’m not an assassin. Is that a shemlen thing? Do shems have poisons? Should I get a poison?” She looks up at the bartender curiously.“I meant, what do you want to drink?” The man is chuckling.“Oh…Do you have any mead?” Merrill kicks herself for getting confused at the man’s words.“’Fraid not.”“Oh…Something sweet, then. Do you have that?” She looks up at the man with wide eyes.He gives her a long look for a moment before nodding and walking away. Merrill continues to sit and swing her legs.Merrill thinks about her time spent in Kirkwall. She’d hardly had any interactions with the shemlen even during her apprenticeship. Her schooling had started online on her small, old laptop while her clan was travelling around Thedas. Their stop in Sundermount was longer than expected and Merrill was able to finish up her hands-on studies and do her apprenticeship in the nearby town. She hadn’t gotten much interaction with shemlen, though. Mostly she worked in the back, helping with bodies, cleaning, and such.The bartender returns with a bright red drink in a little glass. He puts it in front of her, but does not leave till she takes a sip and gives him a bright smile. She tries to ask him what she owes, but the man just says to leave some coin in the tip jar and walks away.-Merrill returns to the Hanged Man often after work, finding the atmosphere nice, and the bartender pleasant, and the drinks just alcoholic enough to ward off the gloom. Sure, the floor sticks to her shoes, and the air is thick with the scent of stale beer and vomit, but there’s something oddly familial and comforting about sitting at the bar.Corff keeps trying to give her free drinks, so she starts bringing him dinner. In part, it’s a way to make herself eat, since she’s subject to forget, but also a way to help her new bartender friend, because he seems exhausted most of the time. She’s cooking larger meals again, but not large enough for a whole clan, just enough for herself and a few others. Sometimes she brings food for Dorian, on mornings when she knows he’ll have a hangover after storming out the night before to go who knows where. Sometimes she just lets him stew, because he gets rather cross when he’s in one of his moods.Overall, things were going okay. And then they weren’t.-Today was not a good day at work, Merrill thought as she took her normal stool at the Hanged Man. It was her fault, she knew. She’d messed up, and now she didn’t even know if Mr. Pavus would want her to come back.A woman had come in scheduled to talk about the funeral arrangements for her recently deceased son, and Dorian had been busy, so Merrill took the meeting, as is her job. The woman seemed very confused, though. She kept asking Merrill where the ‘real’ funeral director was, and when she’d be meeting with Mr. Pavus. Merrill tried to explain that Mr. Pavus was busy, and she, being his second in command, was supposed to take over his appointments. She assured the woman she was qualified to help the woman.Yet, the woman just got angry. She started shouting about ‘knife ears’ and something about elves touching her sons dead body, and how ‘rabbits shouldn’t be allowed real jobs’, which Merrill finds confusing, since of course rabbits don’t have jobs, they’re animals. What does that have to do with anything anyway?The woman wasn’t even there to talk about her son’s embalming. The meeting was about coffins and funeral arrangements. Yet the woman shouted and complained until Dorian came into the office, scolding Merrill for not keeping the clients in control and ‘how can I work with all this racket’ and very mean things like that, until Merrill was forced to take the rest of the day off, rushing out the door on shaky legs as she wipes furiously at her eyes.She wonders if she’ll have a job tomorrow. She doesn’t think it’s likely.She doesn’t know how she ends up at the Hanged Man, but she walks away from work and ends up there, eyes downcast and dull, a cloud over her head. It’s earlier than she’s used to, so much earlier that Corff isn’t even at the bar; some woman is in his place. But Merrill takes her normal seat and waits with her head in her hands, trying to think about anything other than her horrible day.The bartender brings her out of her thoughts, though, with a loud cough. “What do you want to drink?”She looks up quickly. Oh… “I don’t really know… Corff normally picks my drinks for me.”“She’s that elf girl he was talking about, Norah.” A voice says from behind Merrill, and she whips around to see a slightly familiar dwarf. “Get her something sweet.” The man takes a seat next to Merrill at the bar, smiling at her and the bartender genially.“Alright.” The woman walks off, uninterested.“Rough day, Daisy?” The dwarf takes a seat next to Merrill and she stares at him for a moment trying to figure out why she recognises him.“Oh, I think you have me confused with someone else. My name is Merrill, not Da-““It’s a nickname. ‘Cause you’re like a flower, you know? I’m Varric Tethras.” The dwarf holds out his hand to her and she slowly accepts it.“Nice to meet you, Mr. Tethras.” Nope, still doesn’t recognise him.“Call me Varric. Hey, you come here an awful lot for someone who doesn’t know what vodka is.” Varric gestures to the waitress, Norah, as she sets a bottle down in front of Merrill, and is almost immediately handed a glass.Merrill takes a sip from her bottle and gives it a weird look. Then she shrugs and takes a large gulp of it. Today was bad, and fuzzy head drinks are good. “I didn’t think anyone noticed me here.” She says, smiling at Varric.“You kidding? You walk in here every other day all smiling and bright? Everyone notices you! A little bit too much if you ask me…” The last part is muttered to himself, but Merrill doesn’t really seem to notice. “Plus, I notice everyone who comes in here, considering I own it and all.”Merrill shrugs. “I guess that makes sense.”She looks down at the bottle and glances over the label, more just wanting something to look at than to find out just what she’s drinking.“Why are you so down today?” Varric asks, taking a swig of his own drink.Merrill’s lips turn slightly downward as she looks sideways at the dwarf. “Is it really that obvious?” She asks, voice softer than usual.“It’s the contrast.” Varric smiles in a way that is oddly comforting to Merill. No one’s really been nice to her since she got here. Well, there was Corff, and the Dorian, but both were rather distant. “I doubt most would notice, though. Granted, your normal radiance of joy isn’t there today.”“Oh…” Merrill looks back down at her bottle, eyes heavy, face drawn. She takes another drink. “I guess I am rather down today.”“Wanna talk about it?”Merrill thinks. She’s not very good at that; both with the thinking and the talking. She knows she gets words mixed up and she’s not too quick, but she thinks because she does want to talk, but…No offense to Varric, but she doesn’t want to tell him. She wants Mahariel. She wants someone who understands all the pain and confusion, someone who feels like home without weighing on her.Varric is nice, but he’s not her lost friend.When she doesn’t respond, Varric settles into patient silence. They sit at the bar for the better part of a half hour, neither talking, but neither leaving.“You know,” Varric starts, “I miss Kirkwall.”Merrill raises and eyebrow, eyes widening as she looks at him.He’s not looking at her, just smiling wistfully and examining the room. “That’s where the original Hanged Man is. I bought it some years ago, but I needed to moves cities and I wanted to bring it with me. It’s not the same, but it’s something.”“I used to live in Kirkwall.” Merrill says, softly.“Really?” The smile on Varric’s lips suggests he already knew this information.“I was doing my apprenticeship.” She smiles a bit at the thought. “It was scary. I’d never been so close to shemlens before. Even just their dead bodies were new and fascinating…”“That’s an odd comment if I ever heard one. What are you doing with corpses?”“Oh.” Merrill blushes. “I forgot to…Oh, that’s so silly of me, I’m always forgetting these things. Ah, silly Merrill, that was daft of me.” She babbles, smiling awkwardly. “That must have sounded so weird, like I’m some murderer or some- I’m not! Of course, I’m not, but it sounded lik-““Hey, hey, it’s okay, Daisy. Deep breaths.” Merrill hadn’t even realised her breath had picked up until she was looking at the placating hands of Varric, held up as if to sooth a frightened animal.She flushes deeper, but slams her eyes closed and takes a few deep, forceful breaths. It takes a few minutes, but the harshness dissipates and she can breathe again, panic fading. “I’m so sorry.” She whispers, peeking an eye open to look at Varric. He doesn’t seem mad or anything, just looking at her patiently.“It’s fine.” He smiles and she smiles back, albeit weakly.“I’m um…I’m a mortician. You know like an undertaker or a funeral director? I don’t make dead bodies I just…” A few more deep breaths before she babbles again. “I just cut the up and fill them with chemicals and stuff.”Varric stares at her in silence. For a moment she thinks he doesn’t like her answer, but then he chuckles. “That’s not the most typical occupation, I’ll give you that.” He laughs and she smiles.“I know, it’s weird…”“Oh, don’t say that. It’s necessary.” Something about the dwarf’s smile is so friendly, comforting in a way. “I’m not judgin’ you or anything. Though, you might want to work on your pitch, kid.”A giggle bubbles up in Merrill’s throat. She covers her mouth to stop it, but only manages to hiccup. Both of them laugh.“What really matters is if you like your job.”Merrill’s face falls.Varric loses his smile as well. “You okay, Daisy?”“I um…I don’t know if I have a job anymore…” She says. Varric raises an eyebrow and orders her another drink. In the next few moments Merrill finds herself spilling out the events of the day, tears welling up in her eyes as she tries to verbally figure out what went wrong.Varric listens patiently, offering her tissues as she hastily wipes at her blotchy, red face.“Sorry, I just… I really want to be good at this job…” She sniffs. Varric hands her a glass, which she’s ready to refuse, she doesn’t need more alcohol, but it’s just ice water, which she drains in seconds.“It’s not your fault, kid.” He comforts. With moments of silence, he changes the subject. It takes awhile, but the dwarf eventually takes her mind off of losing her job.By the time Merrill is walking back home, she’s forgotten about all the harsh things that happened that day, found herself a new friend, and feels a little less homesick. She’d deal with her job in the morning. For now, she was ok.-The sun is barely up when Merrill rouses herself from her cot in the corner of her apartment. She shuffles around the room, opening the curtains to let the sun shine on her little mint plant. It seems happy on its makeshift table, leaves healthy and green.Merrill brushes her hand over the plant, like on would pet a small animal, very careful and soft. Her eyes water at the thought of the day before. Normally she’d be getting ready for work right now, but…She questions if she even has a job anymore. Mr. Pavus hadn’t been very happy with her when he kicked her out yesterday. She knew she screwed up, somehow.She wipes her eyes needlessly and sniffles. The plant’s bed is dry, so she picks up the bottle she’s left on the windowsill with the holes poked in the top and slowly water the plant. She feels immensely homesick at this moment, though not for her old home, not really. She doesn’t miss the clan. She was never really welcome there, a transfer from another Dalish clan that couldn’t keep her. When she left, no one had been particularly fond of her, but still…She missed home the way it had been a few years ago, when Mahariel was still around and her clan was still nice to her. She misses the time they spent in the forest, before Kirkwall, before the mountains. She misses her friend.With a sigh, she leaves to get dressed, pulling out her darkest clothes without thinking about it. She doesn’t eat before she leaves, just drags herself to work. Even if she was fired, she still had personal effects in the parlour; a few sweaters, some tools, some supplies. She’d at least gather those before she left.Her eyes start watering again as she thinks about losing her job. She can’t return to her clan. Not just because it would be humiliating to admit she failed, to show that she couldn’t fend for herself, it would just be an example to the clan that they should withdraw more form the world. They’d always been convinced the shemlen were all trying to destroy them. Merrill had thought better. They’d tell her she’s wrong, and this was proof.“Hey, Daisy!” Merrill jolts as she hears someone shouting from above. “Merrill!” She whips around, looking up at the figure leaning out of the window of the Hanged Man. She hadn’t even realised she’d walked that far.“Oh, good morning Varric!” She calls back, forcing a smile on her lips.“Wait a sec, I got something for you!” Varric disappears from the upper window of the bar, and Merrill waits patiently on the sidewalk, wiping at her eyes once again.“I forgot to give this to you yesterday.” Varric starts as he comes out the door. He holds out a card to her. “It’s my card. My names has a lot of weight around here. If you’re ever in trouble, you can call the number on the card and I can send help.”Merrill sniffs, taking the card carefully from him. “Thank you, Varric, but…Why me?”“’Cause I like you. And we’re friends now.” He grins and claps her on the shoulder. “Hey, if things don’t go well with your job today, stop by tonight and I’ll help you find another one.”He waves goodbye and Merrill is left red-eyed on the street, clutching the card in her hand.-The door to the funeral parlour seems twenty feet tall when Merrill steps in front of it. Her vision blurs and darkens as she even thinks of opening it, hand shaking with quickening breath. She can do this. She can do this. She ca-“Oh, you’re early today.” A voice rumbles roughly from behind her, thick with sleep. Merrill jumps, whirling around to look at the source.“Mr. Pavus!” She squeaks.Her boss looks horrible today. He has dark bags under his eyes, and his normally glowing skin is pale, and sallow. He’s not even wearing a speck of make-up, which she finds odd, and his tie is untied. He’s clutching to a thermos in one hand, fumbling with the key to the building with the other. He fails twice to find the lock, finally holding out the key to Merrill with a resigned sigh.She follows after him into the dark building, utterly terrified of her boss. He trudges into his office, setting down the thermos and falling into his chair. “Take a seat..” He mutters, turning to bring some papers out of his bag.Merrill wrings her fingers as she perches herself rigidly on her seat, ducking her head as she prepares for a tongue lashing, and job termination.“Evidently we have a lot to talk about.” Dorian starts, pouring himself a cup of whatever’s in the thermos. He stares at Merrill with an odd frown.“Um…yes…about that, Mr. Pavus…” Merrill’s voice is meek as she begins to defend herself. “I um…I wanted to-““Sorry for interrupting you, terribly rude, I know, but I’d like to say my piece first, if you don’t mind.” Dorian is giving her an utterly patient, if tired, look. She swallows thickly and nods. “Obviously yesterday was a wreck, and I’d like to begin by apologising for kicking you out so harshly.”Merrill stills as if ice water was dumped on her head, feelings her joints freeze up as she stares at her lap. Obviously, this was the beginning; he’d be nice and smiles just before shutting her down.“Maker…” He mutters, seeing her face. “Look, I understand if you want to quit, but I’d really like to try and rectify this.” What? Merrill’s eyes widen. What does he mean? “I…I didn’t realise that customers were treating you so rudely. I admit, I’ve never really thought about elven racism, and for that I…Am sorry. I don’t accept bigots as clients, and I should have realised that you’d be a target.” Dorian Pavus is not one to apologise. If anything, he tends to ignore his problems and drown himself in alcohol, so this…This was astounding for Merrill.Dorian’s eyes suddenly widen and he looks holy taken aback. “Oh, no, please don’t cry I…I don’t know how to deal with that. Look, I’m sorry, really, truly, won’t let it happen again, please stop crying.”Merrill hadn’t even realised she was crying. She reaches a hand up to wipe at her tears. “Sorry, Mr. Pavus…I just…I thought you were going to fire me.” She says in a quiet, broken voice, avoiding her boss’s gaze. “I know I did something wrong yesterday, and I don’t understand what, but I promise I’ll do better, and I came here to tell you that, but I thought you were going to fire me, but now you’re apologising and you don’t apologize and I’m so confused.”Dorian looks visibly sick trying to figure how to comfort someone. It’s not really his thing. Hell, emotions aren’t his thing. “Uh…There there?” He tries, patting Merrill’s hand in an awkward attempt at soothing. “I’m not firing you, darling. I promise.” He adds, more sincere this time.Merrill sniffs, finally looking at her boss with a weak smile. “You really mean it?”Dorian scoffs. “Of course! You thought I was going to fire you because some racist bint thought you would taint the stone cold body of her son? Sugar, I don’t roll that way.” He hands a tissue to Merrill, giving her a moment to blot her eyes. “I know I’m a shit boss, perfectly aware of it, but I do try not to live up to the malicious reputation of my ancestral blood.”The elven girl sniffs again, smile widening. “Thank you, Mr. Pavus.” She stands, folding up her tissue.“Think nothing of it.” Dorian says with a wave of his hand. “I’m just- Ah!” He jumps as soon as he feels Merrill’s small arms wrap around him in a hug. “No, no, definitely not. Nope.”She blushes furiously, jumping away. “Oh I’m sorry, Mr. Pavus, I wasn’t thinking, I won’t do that again. Ugh, Merrill you’re such an idiot!” She babbles as Dorian brushes himself off.“Quite…” Dorian is not a touchy feely person. “Go clean yourself up, and start turning on light or something. We have a meeting in an hour.” He says, turning back to his work.“Yes, sir.” Merrill beams.-Merrill does go to the Hanged Man after work, but this time there’s a spring in her step as she skips through the doorway, beaming at Corff, who gives her an arched brow.“Evening~!” She chirps. Corff gives her a small smile and a nod, and goes to get her a drink.“Looks like things went well?” A voice says to her left, and Merrill turns to it with wide, shining eyes.“I still have a job, Varric!” She practically shouts in her excitement.“That’s great, Daisy!” Varric smiles back at the elven girl, watching her practically shake in her excitement.“I think…I think things are going to be okay.” Her smile barely dims. Things were okay. She was okay.-The Hanged Man was almost never empty, except for around eight in the morning when it was closed and the only people around were Varric and maybe an employee or two that needed a place to crash, or were cleaning up after a particularly shit night.Merrill has taken to showing up on her way to work to have breakfast with Varric. He’d made it clear she was always welcome to stop by, whether they were open or not, giving her a spare key and everything. It was nice to just sit at the bar with Varric and enjoy hot drinks and pastries form the bakery down the street, just talking about this and that. Varric had become a steady presence in Merrill’s life, something she fully appreciated, since her only other acquaintances here were at work. He actually seemed to care about her, enough that when she stopped eating on particularly gruelling work weeks he’d wait outside the bar until she passed and pull her in for dinner. He also bought her a basil plant after she told him about the mint Mahariel gave her. She put it on the makeshift box table, the two ceramic pots sitting next to each other in the sunlight, something for her to care for when she couldn’t care for herself.It was during one of these morning breakfast sessions that she met one of Varric’s friends.The man sitting at the bar when she entered Friday morning was taller than her, human and looked absolutely exhausted. He was wearing the sort of clothes Merrill had seen shem doctors wear, the few times she’d ever seen any. His hands were wrapped around a mug of steaming coffee as he stared at the wall behind the bar.“Hello?” Merrill asks softly, approaching the man, who doesn’t respond. “Okay…” She takes her normal seat and pulls out a folder filled with notes and papers she uses for her job, things like cheat sheet references for coffin providers and papers for the bodies they currently had in storage, and a three page set of instructions from Dorian about what to do in the case that he did not show up to work.She’s going over some of her notes from the night before, simple reminders she knows she’ll forget about, when Varric arrives.“I know you told me not to, but I found a coat for you, Blondie.” Is how he begins. Merrill almost checks the colour of her hair before she realises he’s talking about the tired man. “Blondie?” Said man is still staring into the distance, so lost that he only responds when Varric claps him on the back.“Oh, Varric, I was-““Tired, I know.” Varric throws an old jacket over the man’s shoulders, taking his seat between him and Merrill. “Morning Daisy, you met Anders?”“Hm?” The man, Anders, looks at Merrill as if he just realised she was there. Poor guy.“This is Merrill.”“Anders.” The man holds out his hand and Merrill shakes it. “Sorry, I’m very…Tired.” He yawns, turning back to his coffee.“Yes you are. Are you okay?” Merrill asks, because it’s nice to ask people if they’re okay.“Hm…Yes.” There’s nothing convincing about his tone.“You don’t look very okay.” Merrill presses.“He’s not very good at taking care of himself, Daisy.” Varric adds, clapping Anders on the back. “Kind of like you.”“I know how to take care of myself!” Merrill argues.“You get lost on the buses.”“Well…not so much anymore. Those little cards you gave me helped a lot.” Merrill pouts, putting her papers away.“Cards?” Anders looks up from his coffee to raise and eyebrow.“Varric gave me this little pieces of paper with bus numbers on them. They say things like supermarket, and apothecary.” Merrill smiles, getting up out of her seat. “I’ll go get us some breakfast. Do you want anything, Anders?”“A swift death?” The man mutters.“I don’t think they sell those…” Merrill cocks her head to the side thoughtfully.“Just get him a muffin, Daisy. On me.” Varric hands Merrill a fold of bills, far too much for just breakfast, but she’s learned better than to argue. She’ll just find a way to filter it back to him somehow.“Okay!” Merrill goes and gets them all breakfast from the bakery. When she enters the bar, Anders is sitting alone again.“He said he was going to go make some tea.” The man says as he sees her enter.“Ah, alright. I didn’t know what kind of muffin to get you, so I got two. They hand a blueberry one, and a cranberry one. I figured if you want both you can hav eone for lunch or a snack or something.” She sets the muffins down in front of Anders before putting Varric’s usual breakfast sandwich and her bagel at the appropriate seats.“Thanks…” Anders stares at the muffins.“They’re not going to hurt you, silly.” Merrill giggles, taking her seat again.“Hm…what’s your occupation?” The man asks, glancing at her.“Oh, I’m a mortician. I work with dead people.” The elven woman smiles and takes a bite of her bagel.“How can you say that so happily?” Anders looks shocked and mildly insulted.Merrill shrugs. “I like my job. It makes me happy.” She kicks her legs as she sits on the stool, rocking a bit in place. “You’re a doctor, right? You look like a doctor.”“yes, I work at the clinic a few blocks over.” He’s still giving her that weird look. “I help people.”“So do I!” She grins. “I wasn’t so good at it at first, but Mr. Pavus says I’m getting better at it. All you shemlen have these weird rules about what you can talk about, it’s taking awhile to adjust.”“How…How can taking apart dead bodies be considered helping anyone?”“What do you mean?”“You don’t help people you just…Dispose of them. It’s just about the antithesis of my job.” Anders does not look happy. Really, he looks rather angry.“I don’t know about that.” Merrill sets down her food so she can turn fully to Anders. “I’m not an expert on doctors, but Keeper Marethari is a healer. I know she helps people when they’re hurt. I do that too.”“It’s not helping if they’re already dead.” Anders turns to look at her as well, glaring now.“I give people a proper burial. I let them look like themselves one last time. I help families see their loved ones again, comfort heartache and grief. I work very hard to help people, Mr. Anders, and I don’t appreciate you insulting my occupation.” Her voice is tight and clipped, lacking the smile she normally speaks with. She’s not very happy with this man, and she’s not afraid to show him that.“I’m not insulting your job, I’m just telling the truth.”“No, you’re not. You’re tired and bitter, and you’re taking it out on me. It’s very mean of you.” Merrill stands up, wrapping up her bagel. “Please tell Varric I will be by tonight. I have work to attend to.” And with that she leaves.She’s only a few strides down the street before she stops, clutching at her bag so tight her hands are ghost white. “Oh that was very mean of you Merrill…I should go apologise.” She murmurs to herself, feeling horrible about being cross. But he hadn’t been very nice about her job…She’d worked too hard to get to where she was now to let someone tell her she wasn’t helping anyone.“No. No. I was right. I’m going…I’m going to work.” She nods to herself, forcing her feet to continue walking. “I’m going to work.”-“You look rather down today.” Is the first thing out of her boss’s off as she enters his office.“Yes well…Someone was rather rude to me this morning.” Merrill tries not to sound cross with Dorian, but she’s still rather mad about Anders.“Want to um…Talk about it?” Her boss still isn’t very good with feelings, but he’d been trying to be more sympathetic recently. It didn’t really suit him, but it was nice to see him trying.“I just…” Merrill takes a seat in front of Dorian, shoulders slumped. “What we do helps people, right Dor- Mr. Pavus.”“We’re not in front of clients, there’s really no reason to be formal.” Dorian is, once again, sorting out papers. This time it looks like bills, which she knows he has a lot of. “But yes, we do help people. It’s one of the reasons I went into this profession.” He looks up at her. “Why, did someone tell you otherwise?”“I uh…I met a doctor this morning who was very…Erm…Rude about me saying we both helped people.” She doesn’t want to insult Anders, but he was rude to her.“Well, what does a doctor know about funeral services? Let him stick with the living, we can handle our own expertise.” He cracks a half smile at Merrill, and she smiles back fully.“You’re right, I shouldn’t let this get to me. I’ll um…I’ll just finish up my breakfast and then I’ll run embalming prep.”Dorian just nods and turns back to his bills. Heart to heart time is over. She feels better, though. Talking to Dorian felt like talking to death, most of the time. He wasn’t just hungover more than not, his outlook on life was downright pessimistic. Him actually saying something comforting for once felt great. Maybe there was hope for her boss yet.-Merrill is hesitant to enter the Hanged Man that night. She’s not afraid of Anders, per say, but the idea of arguing again doesn’t sit right with her. Merrill’s not a conflict gal on any level, and she didn’t need a tussle after a full day of work.She steps inside anyways, though, and takes her place at the bar, taking in the typical Hanged Man atmosphere; tables of drunkards talking louder than natural, vomit on the floor, two people about to tear the hair out of each other.“Why do you keep coming back here?”“I don’t know…I like it.” Merrill shrugs, turning to smile at Varric. “Sorry I left early this morning.”“I understand.” Varric hands her a drink, one she’s already had before. She had gotten a feeling Corff would run out of sugary drinks to feed her eventually. “Blondie’s sort of an acquired taste. He likes to think he’s right all the time. We’re working on it.”Merrill nods, taking slow sips of her drink. “He was very cross with me. Was he sick today, or does his face always look like that?”She’s being sincere, but Varric starts laughing, and she starts to think she said that wrong. “No, no, his face is built that way. Guy’s been hurt a few too many times, forgot how to be happy.”“Well that’s just sad…Does he get lonely?” Now she feels more bad for snapping at him.Varric shrugs. “I suppose. I’ve never seen him talk to anyone.”“Hmm…” The elven woman hums thoughtfully, tapping her fingers on the bar. “Where’s he work?”“Some clinic. Why?”“I want to visit him.”“I’ll write you up a bus card.” Varric pulls out a stack of note cards from his pocket and starts jotting down a bus route. “He uh…He really likes cats, I think.”“Thank you, Varric.” Merrill smiles and pecks her friend on the cheek. “I’m going to head out early tonight. Got some shopping to do before work tomorrow.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out some Tupperware, handing it to Varric. “Give this to Corff for me, yes? Oh, and there’s some cookies in there for Norah! Thank you, goodnight!” Then she’s running out the door, eager to get home. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Merrill wakes up to the sound of her alarm, set much too early for her taste. She groans and turns on her cot. The sun hasn’t even risen yet. But then she remembers why she set her alarm early, and pulls herself off the floor, taking a moment to yawn and steady herself.She likes the dress she’s wearing today. It’s blue with daisies on it, and it floofs out when she twirls. She wears it with a subdued, darker blazer, though, because she can’t be too bright for her job. Typically she didn’t even really prefer skirts on work days, gets in the way, but she needed that extra sun today.The streets are still dark as Merrill makes her way to the supermarket. She has to take a bus to get there, but it’s early enough that it’s not very crowded, which makes it easier, and everyone is real tired, so they mostly ignore her.The sun has barely started to rise by the time she takes the next two buses she needs to go to the clinic. She follows her bus card carefully, not wanted to get lost. Again. She’s very good at getting lost.The clinic itself hasn’t opened to the public yet, which she finds out when she approaches the door and finds it lost. She’s going to be late for work, though, if she doesn’t get this done soon, and she’s fine with that, but she knows if she is late once she’ll be more inclined to do it again. So, she knocks on the glass door of the clinic and cups her hands around her eyes to try and see inside better. She tries again a few minutes later, and then again, and finally someone comes to the door.She looks tired, Merrill notices, and young. Younger than her, at least. Her hair is black and long and she’s wearing doctor’s clothes, and she opens the door with a weary look. “We’re not open, yet. Are you dying?” She asks, and though her words are accusatory, her voice is gentle.“Well, um…No…I don’t think I’m dying?” Merrill responds, looking down at herself as if magical wounds will have appeared in the last few seconds.“Well, then you can wait for us to open.” The lady goes to close the door but Merrill waves her arms and jumps forward.“Wait no! I um…I’m here for um…Personal reasons?” The woman stops trying to close the door, and raises an eyebrow. “I was told a man named Anders works here?”“You want to see the doctor? For…Personal reasons?” The lady is sceptical for reasons unbeknownst to Merrill.“Yes.” The elf nods, rocking back on her heels. “See, Varric introduced him to me yesterday, and he-“The lady’s eyes widen. “Wait, Varric?” Her incredulous look quickly turns to one of exasperation. “Why am I not surprised? Fine, you can come in.” She sighs and opens the door all the way, allowing Merrill inside the building.“Thank you~! By the way, my name is Merrill.” The small elf practically beams as she bounces inside.“I’m Bethany.” The lady says with a soft smile. “I’ll go get Anders for you, wait here.” She leaves Merrill in the lobby of the clinic and walks off.With nothing to do but wait, Merrill stands in place and swishes her hips so her skirt swishes against her legs. She manages to amuse herself with this for a good five minutes before she hears the sounds of shoes on tile, and suddenly Anders is stepping into the room.“Bethany said something about Va- Oh.” He looks severely annoyed when he sets his eyes on Merrill. “What do you want um…Daisy, is it?”“Merrill.” She corrects. “You know…The girl you insulted yesterday?”“You insulted someone, Anders?” Bethany frowns as she steps up behind him.“Not really.” Anders mutters. The bags under his eyes are more severe now, and his face is very pale. He looks gaunt, and Merrill wonders how someone manages to look so dead but also so angry?“No, you really did, and it was rather mean.” She points out, willing herself not to just agree with him. “I forgive you, though, and I brought you this.” She holds out the gift bag she’s been holding in her hands to Anders, smiling encouragingly at him, like he’s a stray dog.Bethany rolls her eyes when Anders just stares at the small elf girl, astonished. “Seriously?” She jabs Anders in the side and he sighs and takes the bag, digging his hand inside to pull out the orange cat plush Merrill had picked up at the supermarket.“Varric told me you like cats.” She says. Anders looks confused. He’s staring at the cat with the oddest look in his eyes. “There should be sometea in there, too. And some sweets.” Anders just keeps staring at the cat, eyes wide. Merrill sighs. “Look, I understand that you’re tired and cross all the time, and you said some very mean things to me. But I’m not going to hold it against you. I don’t want you to think that you’re right, because what you said hurt me, but I know you were unhappy, and I know you were taking out your frustrations on me.”Bethany is looking between Anders and Merrill. She looks confused beyond all else. Anders doesn’t respond, so Merrill sighs again. “I have to get to work. You take care, yes?” She waits a moment for a response, but when she doesn’t get one she turns away and walks out the door.She’s not far down the street when she hears running footsteps behind her, and she thinks maybe it’s Anders, but when she turns around it’s Bethany, striding to catch up with her.“Wait!” She calls, and Merrill stops. “Can...I don’t want to make you late for work, but…” She goes quiet, stepping up in front of the small elven girl. “What did Anders say to you?” Bethany asks.Merrill bites her lip thoughtfully, frowning. “He said something rather rude about my job.” The dark haired lady frowns as well.“I’m sorry about him…I don’t think he knows how to trust people anymore.” She apologises.“I understand.” Merrill shrugs, eyes downcast. “I’m not judging him, I just…My job can be very demanding, and Anders made it seem like…Well, like it was worthless. Like everything I’ve been working up to for years now means nothing. And, well…If I’m not helping people, if my job means nothing, then all I’ve done is just a waste of time.” She doesn’t start crying this time, but it’s mostly because she just feels numb. She hugs herself, fingers digging into her upper arms.“What do you do?” Bethany asks.“I’m a mortician. I…I prepare dead bodies for burial.”Bethany doesn’t seem to understand. She’s okay with no one understanding, she’s used to it. But the dark haired doctor doesn’t say mean things like Anders. She actually reaches out a hand and places it on Merrill’s shoulder.“Don’t listen to what he said.” She says in her soft, lilting voice. “I don’t exactly understand your feelings, but…Your reasons for doing something are your own, and your efforts are never for nothing.”“What if they are?” Merrill finds herself whispering.Bethany smiles, but her eyes are sad. “Then that’s for you to figure out, not some moody man who knows nothing about your truth.”Merrill smiles back. “Thank you.”Bethany drops her hand, but does not leave. “If Anders was so mean to you, why did you bring him that gift?” She asks, cocking her head to the side.“Varric told me he was sad all the time, and very lonely. I figured…Well, even if he was mean and cross all the time, everyone deserves a friend, or at least…Company.” She shrugs. “I’m starting to think it was a bad idea, though. Means nothing comin’ from me.”“You have a kind soul, Merrill.” Bethany smiles, and the smile lights up her eyes. “I’ve got to get back to work, but if you ever need help…The clinic is always open for you.” And she pats Merrill on the arm and leaves.Merrill shivers for a moment on the sidewalk, watching the shrinking figure of Bethany. She feels better, if only a little.-Merrill doesn’t go to the Hanged Man that night. She didn’t feel like facing Varric after her failed attempt at befriending Anders. She didn’t want to tell him what happened.In fact, she didn’t go see Varric the next morning, or the morning after that. She avoided the Hanged Man like the plague for almost a week, isolating herself into her work. If Dorian takes notice, he doesn’t say anything. He’d started drinking more steadily recently, and though their relationship was getting better, she wasn’t at a point where she could confront him about it.She actually ended up avoiding others entirely for about a week, bar the customers she dealt with during work. She was starting to think her decision to move here wasn’t the best one.The knock on her apartment door Thursday night surprises her. Only her landlord ever did that, and she’d paid her rent this month. Her landlord is not the human standing on the other side of her apartment door, she sees, but another human.“Hello Anders.” Merrill summons a smile from the dark depths inside her, though it’s weak and sad compared to the previous ones Anders had seen her give.“Merrill.” He’s holding a box in his hands. For a moment, Merrill thinks he might be giving her the gift she had given him back, but he just holds out the box, no explanation.“What is this?” The elf hesitantly takes the box, examining it as if it might bite her. It’s cardboard, being held together with a mass of tape and paperclips. There are holes poked into the top haphazardly, some of them not going through all the way.“A uh…A sort of apology.” Anders runs a hand through his hair awkwardly. Merrill notices that he seems in a much better state today. His hair has been recently washed, and his skin is less sallow. The bags under his aren’t quite as prominent, and he’s not shaking or anything.“How did you get my address?”“…Varric.”Merrill was unaware that Varric knew where she lived, so this isn’t really a helpful answer, but she’s not about to ask any more questions, she has a box. “Well, okay.”She tears the tape off the top of the box and practically has to rip it open to reveal what’s inside. It’s a potted plant, just barely starting to sprout. She carefully takes the gift out of the box holding it in her hands, examining it.“It’s a chamomile plant…Uh, Varris told me about the one he gave you, and about the one from your friend? It’s good for making tea, mostly to um invoke drowsiness, or clear sinuses. It’s also useful if added to a bath or an ointment, for your uh skin.” He rubs the back of his neck bashfully, face flushing as he adverts his eyes. “I just…I want to say sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to insult you so much, I was just…Um…” He waves his hand, searching for the appropriate word.“Cranky?” Merrill helpfully supplies. “Cross? Rude? Sick? Did you have a problem with your words? We had a girl in my clan who had that. She’d say means things all the time, but I think she got better.”“No, I was going for uh...Busy?” Anders gives Merrill an odd look before shaking his head. “Whatever. I didn’t mean to take out my frustrations on you. It was…The gift you gave me was very thoughtful. I don’t know how you knew my cat had run away, but it was really nice.”Merrill had no idea Anders lost his cat, didn’t even know he had a cat, but she just nodded along and smiled like she was talking to a kid.“Anyways, I just wanted to give you this and apologise, and I did that, so…”“Thank you Anders.” Merrill beams. “This was very nice of you. Would you like to come in for some tea?”It’s less of a show of gratitude and more her way of saying she accepted his apology, and is willing to be his friend. And when he nods and follows her into her apartment, he understands that this really means he’ll try harder not be an ass, and now has a new friend.As Merrill places the new plant next to the other two, she starts to feel like she knows what she’s doing again.The boxes are sagging a bit, though. She might want to get a table…
10639404	Hinamiki Oneshots	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Hinata Hajime, Tsumiki Mikan", "Fandom": "Super Dangan Ronpa 2", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by StarDragon25", "chapters": "2/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-16T00:00:00", "words": "735", "Additional Tags": "oneshots, Romance, Other characters may be added later on, hinamiki", "Relationship": "Hinata Hajime/Tsumiki Mikan", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“M-Mikan?” Hajime tiredly asked. He had just woken up during the middle of the night to find Mikan standing in front of their bedroom window, staring outside with a blank expression on her face. She seem rather distracted by something as she didn't notice him calling out to her. This worried him.“Mikan?,” he repeated. No answer. The young male sat up and got off the bed to approach her. “Mikan, is something bothering you?” Her expression didn't change, but she answered this time. “I’m fine, Hajime. I'm just… thinking about something.” She placed a hand onto her stomach. “I’m nervous about this. I know that we're married and we made vows at the wedding. But, I don't if I can handle starting a family.”A sad expression appears on her face as tears began to form as well. She lowered her head to hide her shame. A jolt of surprise went through her as her head was lifted to face Hajime. “Don't overthink this, Mikan. Remember, you’re not alone, you have me,” he assures her. “We promised to help each other in times of need, remember?” The girl slowly nodded in agreement. “Good.” He leaned in and gave her a peck on the lips, resulting in her blushing. Hinata wraps his arms around her as she rested her head on his chest. “Let's go to sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow.” Mikan sighed. “Alright then.”“I love you, Mikan.” “I love you too, Hajime.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to me,” Mikan whispered to herself. It was a lonely day at a local playground, and this was how she was spending her own birthday. Spending it with her family was instantly shut down. She didn't have many friends to begin with and she didn't want to bother the ones she has with her special day. A sigh of loneliness escaped her lips. Who would celebrate her birthday with her anyway? To her, celebrating your birthday seemed rather selfish. Mikan preferred to help others, not drag them into her own problems. As she was reminding herself of how pitiful she was, she didn't notice a guy walking up to her. “Why are you here all alone?,” the male asked. Tsumiki raised her head to respond, but as she did so, she saw a familiar face.“H-Hajime?!” The boy smiled at her as he hid his hands behind his back. “W-Why are you here?,” she asked. “I was looking for you,” he replied. “Looking for… me?,” she repeated. This was confusing her. She didn't remember making a promise to meet up with or see him after school. Did he… perhaps want something from her? Her mind was being clouded with thoughts as she tried to rationalize the situation. “Don't worry, I just want to talk to you,” he assures.“Really?,” a hopeful expression appeared on her face. She then noticed his hands, which were still behind his back. A somewhat suspicious look replaced her expression. “What are you hiding behind your back,” she questions. “Oh, I have a surprise for you.” “A surprise?” A soft chuckle emitted from Hajime's lips as he brought his hands to the front, revealing a chocolate cupcake with vanilla frosting in his hands. “A… cupcake?” “Happy Birthday, Mikan,” he saids. Small tears began forming in her eyes as she looked the treat, receiving a strange feeling around her heart. “You… knew?,” she whispered. She could barely believe what was happening right now. He nods. “Of course. A few days, I remembered that your birthday was coming up, so I tried making a cupcake for you. However, the first few attempts ended in failure. But, I was able to do it, mainly because everyone else in our class helped me in the end. Mikan wiped a tear from her eyes as she smiled. “That's very thoughtful. B-But, you didn't have to force yourself, especially for someone like me.” “Don't say that. I did this because I wanted to,” he argues. “Besides, I didn't like the fact that you were spending your birthday alone.” He extended his hand towards her. “Come on, let's go somewhere that's more lively.” Mikan looked at his hand for a few seconds before finally accepting the invitation and grabbed hold of it. Hajime carefully pulled her up and handed her the cupcake, which she accepted. “...Thank you, Hajime,” she said blushing. “No problem. Happy Birthday, Mikan.”
10620189	The Handyman	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Sansa Stark, Jon Snow, Gilly (ASoIaF), Daario Naharis, Grenn (ASoIaF), Samwell Tarly, Ygritte", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by vivilove", "chapters": "2/2", "completed": "2017-04-16", "published": "2017-04-14T00:00:00", "words": "8,269", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Workplace Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Misunderstandings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hand Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, Crushing Sansa, Mutual Pining, Mutually clueless, Jealousy", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Jon Snow & Sansa Stark, Jon Snow/Ygritte (minor)", "Series": "Career Day Romance", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Jon Snow was a very skilled handyman. If your house needed a fresh coat of paint, he could make it look brand new. If your sink was clogged, he could unstop it. If your lock was busted, he could replace it. If your toilet was backed up…well, you get the idea. He’d even started doing remodeling and extension work. Some might say that Jon Snow was more of a doer than a talker. He worked with his hands and he was good at what he did. He was friendly…he just didn’t talk a person’s ear off the way some guys might. Snowman’s Handy Helpers was a booming business. And, if you asked Jon Snow, he would tell you it was thanks to his bookkeeper, Sansa Stark.“You should get a billboard,” Sansa suggested one morning while working on his taxes in his office.He’d rented out a small office space a few months ago after much persuasion from Sansa. She’d found the place which was just the right size for them with reasonable rent. Gilly, the receptionist, sat out front which was where Sansa’s desk was. Jon’s office was in the back but Sansa used it as well when she was busy with the books and didn’t want to be distracted by the phone ringing. There was also a small conference room which had a fridge, two sofas and a TV rather than a conference table and chairs. It’s not like handymen held regular business conferences. The last time Jon had wanted to talk to everyone they’d ordered pizzas and watched a game together. Jon had done his talking during half time.“A billboard? Why?” Jon asked from the lone visitor’s chair as he put his work boots up on the desk. He grabbed the nearly empty donut box that the other guys had already decimated to inspect what was left as he kicked back. “Business is good. There’s plenty of work to keep me, Grenn and Daario busy.”“Ugh! Boots off desk, please!” Sansa said, whacking his steel-toed foot with her pencil. Jon laughed and moved his feet. “Jon, don’t sell yourself short here. Was I wrong about getting the little business cards printed up or sending out those mailers?”“No, Sansa,” he said, rolling his eyes but also smiling at her. His smile did things to her…things she couldn’t tell him.“Was I wrong about advertising in that circular?” she persisted. It didn’t matter how damn cute he was, he needed a little prodding when it came to advertising and a bit of guidance on how to keep a business growing.“No, Sansa,” he said with a mock sigh before handing her the last donut, a lemon-filled one.“I shouldn’t,” she said, shaking her head at the empty calorie-fest.“You should…and you will. I know you can’t resist lemon,” he teased.She smiled and took the offered donut before saying, “You’re getting a billboard.”“Fine…as long as I don’t have to be on it.”“Jon, you’re a…” Sansa swallowed hard and started again, “you’re a good-looking guy and I think you would…” His eyebrows shot up and she felt herself blushing. Not to be discouraged though she finished by saying, “Well, I think you’d be good advertising for yourself.” He gave her that stubborn little scowl she knew very well…and found utterly adorable. Sansa gave a disgruntled harrumph and threw up her hands. “Fine!” she said in surrender. “We’ll ask Daario to do it.”Sansa had started as Jon’s bookkeeper about eight months earlier when he’d run into her older brother who he’d been good friends with as a kid and mentioned that he was getting a bit behind on keeping up with his business’s paperwork and such on top of doing so much work. Robb had suggested he call his sister who had taken some finance and business courses in school and needed a job after a moving back home.When Jon had called her about the potential job, Sansa was surprised to say the least. He asked if she remembered him. ‘Yeah, I remember you.’Sansa remembered Jon Snow very well. There’d been countless Saturday mornings of him at her house as a kid when he’d had a sleepover with Robb. Back then, she’d just been the kid sister that Robb was always yelling at to get out of his room when his friend was there. Jon had always been kind though even when she was whining and pouting at them both.As he and Robb got older, he still came by from time to time. When Sansa was eleven and really starting to notice boys, she thought fourteen-year-old Jon was sweet and kind of cute, even with his glasses and a bit of acne. But when Sansa was fourteen and feeling gawky, gangly and generally awkward herself, Jon had transformed into this hot hunk of teenage glory with his shiny, black curls and suddenly buff body. He had seemed completely unobtainable but she had daydreamed about him…a lot.Then, Robb had gone away for school and Jon Snow had disappeared from her life. Sansa went south for college. She had wound up learning some bitter lessons about love while she was there. She’d been miserable in the south so far away from home. She ended up dropping out before her final year and returned home to be near her family with the plan of returning to school eventually.A few months later, Jon had called her out of the blue to see if she’d be interested in a job. He’d invited her to meet him over wings and beer to discuss the job offer. And two people who had known each other for years but never really known each other all that well tried to play catch up. Even if that meeting was strained in a way, Sansa needed a job and Jon needed a bookkeeper and they agreed to give it a try.So, several months had passed and this was working just fine. Jon’s business was booming which he freely told anyone was thanks to Sansa. And, Sansa was enjoying her job and being part of the business while she considered returning to school somewhere nearby. They had formed a mutual respect for one another as adults and co-workers. Equally good, they were friends now as well.Everything was going splendidly. There was just one problem. Sansa had fallen for Jon, or fallen again if you counted the teenage crush. Why was that a problem? Because Jon was currently seeing someone else.Ygritte was an electrician and occasionally helped with bigger projects for Snowman’s Handy Helpers. Jon could do some minor electrical work but, if it went beyond minor, he wanted a professional in this area. ‘Don’t want anyone’s house burning down or someone getting electrocuted, right?’ he’d said. Grenn was a plumber by trade and Daario was a carpenter. Jon was both, plus he had picked up other skills but he hadn’t gone to electrical school. She’d been recommended to him by a contractor and he’d asked her if she’d be interested in doing some side jobs for his company. She’d been interested. She’d been interested in Jon anyway.Sansa knew that Jon and Ygritte had been seeing each other for a few months because Ygritte had informed her of it the very first time they’d met. It was hard to tell how serious it was though. Jon never talked about Ygritte but Sansa sometimes heard him on the phone with her. But if Ygritte called the office looking for Jon and Sansa answered, she always sounded put out that he wasn’t there. Then, she’d proceed to talk about Jon with Sansa. Sansa always tried to get off the phone as quickly as possible without being rude but Ygritte was not an easy person to get rid of when she wanted your attention. And, to say Ygritte ‘overshared’ at times would be putting it mildly. Sansa’s face would usually be flushed a vivid red within three minutes of listening to Ygritte run from ‘So, how’s business there?’ to ‘Jon is quite a handy man…if you get my meaning.’Sansa wasn’t quite sure why Ygritte called the office so much when Jon had a perfectly good cell phone that he answered regularly. And, she certainly didn’t want to hear Ygritte telling her those things about Jon. She’d finally got to the point that she avoided answering the phone. She apologized profusely to Gilly for dumping all the phone duties on her but Gilly smiled and said she understood. When Sansa asked Gilly over burritos one afternoon if Ygritte ever talked to her about Jon, Gilly had looked perplexed and asked, ‘Why would she talk to me about Jon?’ A few weeks after the billboard discussion, Jon had come into the office one morning a bit earlier than usual…well, early for the office. He usually knocked out a couple of minor jobs each day before he stopped by the office.But someone else who was never there that early was already there as well…Daario.“Wow, Daario,” Sansa said with pleasure when his face appeared over the top of the massive floral arrangement he’d brought her. “Are these really for me?”“You bet, Sans. You are the best!” he said with a wink as he handed over her surprise.“Yeah, don’t mind me over here,” Gilly said.“Hey, I brought you breakfast at least,” Daario protested. “And what would Sam think if I gave his wife flowers? Besides, these are for Sansa for asking me to be on the billboard. You wouldn’t believe the women that come right up to me and give me their number now!”“Thank you and I’m glad that’s working out well for you,” Sansa laughed.It was then that Jon made his appearance. He looked at the flowers before giving the three of them a rather forced smile. At least, Sansa thought it seemed forced though she couldn’t say why. Daario hopped up off Sansa’s desk where he’d been sitting and asked Jon where he needed him today. Jon went into his office and came out a minute later with a job for him to go take care of while Sansa tried to find a place for the flowers. Daario headed out and Jon watched the two women fuss over the flowers.It was a big arrangement…far too big for her desk. She’d preferred the sweetheart roses Jon had given her for her birthday in the vintage, hobnail vase he said he’d found at an antique market. When she’d expressed her surprise that he’d go antiquing, he’d scratched his beard in an embarrassed way and muttered that she’d mentioned liking that kind of stuff.Once she and Gilly finally agreed the flowers would work best on the spare desk by the window, Sansa said, “There. We can both enjoy them now. Right, Jon?”“Yeah, sure,” he said before he headed into his office.Sansa followed him into his office and asked if she could get the timesheets from him so she could start on payroll. He nodded and got up from his desk, gesturing for her to sit there like she usually did when she worked on payroll. He handed over the timesheets and sat down in the visitor’s chair without a word. He was often quiet when she worked at his desk and, if he wasn’t busy with something, he would sit and watch her work. But that morning, when Sansa would glance at him from time to time, she thought he seemed out of sorts…a bit down. He kind of had a ‘kicked puppy’ look and Sansa wasn’t sure what that was all about.She decided that maybe he’d prefer to be left alone to brood in peace and she slipped out of his office when he went to heat up his sausage biscuit. He came out front a few minutes later.“Hey…where’d you go?” he asked.“I just thought I’d get out of your way for a bit. I can finish payroll out here.”“Oh…okay,” he said looking down at his biscuit.He shuffled back into his office and closed the door. Sansa looked over at Gilly who shrugged and then answered the ringing phone. Sansa started working again but she couldn’t concentrate. Something was gnawing at her. Something was definitely off with Jon today. He’d seemed upset when he came in and now he had closed his office door. Jon never closed his door.Sansa stood and smoothed down her top and ran a hand through her ponytail. Gilly shot her an encouraging glance while she was taking down information from the caller. She knocked softly at the door and heard him grunt for her to come in.“Hey, are you okay?” she asked quietly as she slipped into the office.He looked up from his desk and said, “Yeah. Kind of.”“What’s that mean?”“Nothing,” he answered.“Seems like more than nothing.”“Okay, I…just tell me if it’s not my business but…are you seeing Daario?” he asked then.“No,” she said amused. “He gave me the flowers to thank me for putting him on that billboard. Apparently, it’s getting him lots of attention…lots of female attention,” she said waggling her eyebrows at Jon.He laughed then and said, “Okay, I’ve got the picture. Sorry for being nosy.”“It’s okay.” Sansa clasped her hands together and looked at the floor. Jon had never asked her about her love life before and it gave her enough courage to ask, “So…how’s Ygritte?”“What? Oh…I guess she’s fine. We stopped seeing each other a few weeks ago.”“Oh, I’m sorry.” No, I’m not but I’m sorry if you’re hurt. “I didn’t know.”“Don’t be. I’m certainly not,” he said with a sigh.“Is something else wrong then?”“No…well, she called me last night.”“And?”“She called me and asked me to…well, she wanted me to come over for…”“Okay, I’ve got the picture,” Sansa said with a smirk.He rolled his eyes and covered his face for a second in embarrassment. “Yeah. My first booty call, I guess.” They both snickered at that before he said, “Anyway, I said no and then she got kind of nasty with some things that she said.”“Things like what?” Sansa asked sharply, suddenly ready to rip Ygritte in two if she had hurt him.“She said that I was…” He stopped talking and looked at her for a second then shook his head and said, “Never mind. So, where is this billboard of ours anyway that has all the ladies after Daario?”She was a bit disturbed by how quickly he’d jumped tracks on the topic but if he didn’t want to talk about Ygritte anymore that was fine with Sansa. “Oh, about fifteen minutes away. Want to go see it?”“Now?” he asked, clearly surprised but pleased.“Well, if you’d like and you’re not too busy with that biscuit that you’re not eating.”“Okay, sure,” he said jumping up from his chair while grabbing his keys and phone.They drove through town in his work truck which was also a rolling advertisement for the business…also Sansa’s idea. She directed him to park at the office building across from the sign. The office building was large and probably held a dozen different businesses. There was a community park with ball fields right beside it. And there was plenty of traffic that made its way down this street every day so plenty of potential eyes would be seeing ruggedly handsome Daario grinning at them from the sign advertising Jon’s handyman service.“Well?” she asked once he’d had his look.“It’s good, Sansa. And, this is a great location. I may have to hire some more help before long.”“Well, that’s the idea,” she said smiling at him.“Sansa,” he said turning towards her in the truck. “I just want to say again how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me and my business. Since you started working for me, things have really taken off and I couldn’t have done any of this without you. And I’m really glad that we’re friends now and have gotten to know each other…well, much better than when we were kids.”Jon moved just a bit closer across the bench seat. His eyes were flashing with some sort of barely contained energy and the temperature inside the cab of the truck seemed to have increased about ten degrees.“You’re welcome,” she said nervously. Why is my stomach in knots?“Sansa,” he said again…but this time he said it in a different tone, a huskier tone, that made her quiver in anticipation of something. “I’m not the best at words but I’ve been wanting to tell you that I…”He grew quiet. He looked from her eyes to her lips and then back. Then, he leaned forward rather suddenly and Sansa barely had time to suck in a quick breath before his lips closed over her own. For a split second, she started to kiss him back until reality sunk in. She pulled away and turned her head. She could see his hurt look but he quickly returned to his side of the cab.“I’m sorry, Sansa. I like you and I just thought you might…”“I’m not your rebound girl, Jon,” she said steadily. She was glad she sounded steady because she felt anything but.“I…that’s not what I intended! I didn’t…”“You just told me this morning that you broke up with Ygritte!”“Weeks ago! And we weren’t even…”“I didn’t know that until this morning which means you’ve not mentioned it to me…or the guys either since Daario never met a bit of gossip that he didn’t share right away. It’s too soon for you to be serious about me.”“But I am…I have been…”She didn’t let him continue, “I’ve already been someone’s rebound girl and I won’t go through that again…not even for you.”He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that…”“No, you shouldn’t have but I forgive you. Can you please take me back to the office now before this gets any more awkward for either of us?”“Yes,” he said with his shoulders hunched forward and a completely miserable expression now.He threw the truck in drive and drove them back to the office. They didn’t talk but it wasn’t as tense as it could have been. Just breathe in and out. He was just feeling down and lonely. He just made a mistake. That’s all it was. He’s not really interested in you. Hold it together, she told herself as he pulled back into the parking lot at the office.Gilly met them at the door with a fist full of jobs she’d taken while they were gone.“Looks like the billboard was a good idea,” he said not quite meeting Sansa’s eyes now.“Yes. Allow me to say I told you so,” she said with a fake smile she hoped was convincing.He smiled back at her before he started texting Grenn to meet him at a job. She went over to her desk to straighten a few things before she couldn’t take it anymore. Without a word to Jon or Gilly, she headed straight back through the building to the bathroom at the back. She closed the door and turned on the vent and finally let herself cry. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Everyone has times in their life when they sorely wish that they could go back in time to a specific moment and change everything. Jon Snow had had one of those moments a couple of weeks earlier when he’d made the completely idiotic move of trying to kiss Sansa in his truck so soon after he’d told her he wasn’t seeing Ygritte anymore. He should’ve told her what was truly in his heart first and then decided if a kiss would be welcome or not. There were so many things he’d wanted to say that morning…for a long time actually. But, he had been telling the truth when he said he wasn’t the best with words. No one was arguing that.Other than some lingering awkwardness and occasional aloofness, Sansa had returned to work and acted like nothing had happened. She’d seemed eager to forget about the whole thing. It hurt to accept that she wasn’t interested in him like he’d been hoping but, rather than force his attentions on her, he decided to take her lead and try and forget about it, too. Well, he tried anyway. For a kiss that had lasted all of ten seconds at most and one that she had just barely responded to before pulling away, he’d spent an absurd amount of time thinking about it and replaying it in his mind.When Ygritte had called wanting him to come over the previous night and then got so pissed when he’d refused, she’d brought up Sansa. It wasn’t the first time the subject of Sansa had been raised between them.At first, he’d been confused by Ygritte’s immediate and obvious jealousy over Sansa when she’d met her. Sansa had only been there a few months when Ygritte had asked him out. And although she was all grown up and a knock-out now, Jon still saw her as Robb Stark’s little sister. Alright…to be honest, he realized he’d already been trying to remind himself of all the reasons why Sansa was off-limits even then.He’d still fondly remembered her as the little girl that he’d sometimes sit next to on the Stark’s couch on Saturday mornings. She’d creep up next to him those mornings in her pajamas covered in princesses or puppy dogs and whisper little secrets and stories about her stuffed animals or her dolls in his ear as they watched cartoons when Robb was distracted. Jon didn’t have any siblings and he enjoyed her attention. He didn’t mind Robb’s little sister. He felt guilty when Robb would chase her off and tell her to leave them alone.As a teenager, she’d been a pretty girl but he’d not allowed himself to look at her that way. She was Robb’s sister. He wasn’t about to violate the bro code by making any moves on her then…and maybe he had still felt lingering guilt about looking at her that way now as though he was disrespecting Robb in some way.So yes, he’d just seen the same sweet girl when he’d hired her. The sweet girl had grown into a beautiful, funny and intelligent woman. She was an adult now…that was the only difference. Didn’t stop her from being Robb’s kid sister, right?But the longer he worked with Sansa and the better he got to know her, to really know her, the more he found himself looking forward to seeing her every day. He’d agreed to renting the office space when she suggested it; partly because it was a good idea anyway and partly because it meant she wouldn’t do so much of his paperwork at her apartment where he couldn’t stop by and see her whenever.Before long he started spending more time at the office. He told himself at first that with so much work coming in he needed to stay on top of things at the office. That wasn’t really true though. Sansa handled everything beautifully for him whether he was there or not. The truth was he just wanted to be where she was. He liked spending time with Sansa. He liked the way she’d chew on her pencil when she was thinking and he’d catch himself staring when she’d bite her bottom lip and scrunch up her brow when something wasn’t adding up right. He liked the way she was always coming up with suggestions for his business and the way she wouldn’t back down when he was being stubborn. He enjoyed their easy and comfortable way of talking and teasing and laughing together at work.Ygritte could be pushy but she wasn’t stupid. She had realized what was happening well before Jon did but she wasn’t the kind of woman to just give up on something she wanted without a fight. So, she’d started calling him…all the time. And when he stopped answering her calls because it was keeping him from working, he hoped she might take the hint that he wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship. He thought she had got the hint…until he found out about her phone calls to the office and the things she’d been saying to Sansa. Gilly had let the cat out of the bag one morning when Sansa was out and Ygritte had called the business line looking for him. And that’s when he’d decided enough was enough and he would have to deal with this face to face. He drove to her place that evening after work and told her he didn’t want to see her anymore. He’d tried to be polite and keep things civil but Ygritte had been angry and it had ended far from polite and civil.Her jealousy and the inappropriate and untrue things she had been saying wound up backfiring on her because it made Jon realize that she was right. He liked Sansa. Well, he didn’t just like her. He had fallen in love with her. And even though Ygritte and him had never made any declarations of love or anything remotely close to that, it wouldn’t have been fair to keep seeing Ygritte once he finally saw the light.Which made her call a few weeks after that fight all the harder to believe. Ygritte was attractive. If she wanted some action, Jon was certain she could find some other guy who was interested and one who she hadn’t cursed up one side and down the other the last time they’d spoke. And when he’d said no to her invitation to come over, she’d been livid and said the vilest things about Sansa and him.That next morning, he’d still been angry over Ygritte’s call but it was nothing compared to how eaten alive with jealousy he’d been when he saw Daario sitting on Sansa’s desk and giving her flowers. He thought he’d blown his chance by waiting too long. He’d wanted to ask Sansa out before then but he wasn’t sure of the best way to handle it. She was his employee although he considered her his equal. And, he’d not mentioned that he’d stopped seeing Ygritte to anyone because he tended to keep his personal business to himself out of habit.He’d been so relieved when she’d said she wasn’t seeing Daario. Of course, now he saw that his jealous reaction had only compounded his mistakes that morning. It made him look like maybe he was only interested in Sansa because someone else was.And then, alone with her in his truck with her smiling at him and making him feel so at ease like she always did, he’d made his move. He thought of himself as a doer more than a talker. In truth, he’d chickened out on the talking part and acted foolishly instead.Of course, she’d think he was on the rebound. He wanted to argue that there wasn’t anything to rebound from but he could see her point. He wanted a real relationship with her, one that didn’t leave her with any doubts about him or the way he felt about her. And, while he had hoped that maybe she might return his feelings, he had his own doubts and the possibility of being rejected again after the kiss was not an easy thing to face.So, he’d taken her lead and kept things cordial without pushing her at all. And maybe he hadn’t spent quite as much time at the office lately as he had been. Okay…he’d been avoiding the office like a coward. They were very busy but he was also concerned that if he was with Sansa for too much of the day he wouldn’t be able to help kissing her again. And he would not be doing that again until she clearly wanted him to do so. Which may never happen now. Snowman’s had just had their most successful month ever and Jon had invited everyone out for drinks on Friday after work to celebrate. He had been delayed at his final job of the day, a clogged sink that seemed to be possessed by evil spirits, and he’d had to run home to shower and change before joining them.“There’s the man at last,” Grenn said from the table for six they’d commandeered in the bar area.“Hey,” Jon said. “How’re you doing, Sam?” he asked Gilly’s husband as he reached over to shake hands with him.“Good, thanks.”“Where’s Sansa?” he asked next as he sat down and noticed the empty seat.Of course, his eyes had been searching for her red hair the moment he spied their table but he thought perhaps she’d gone to the ladies’ room. It was now clear that neither her jacket or handbag were at the table.“Said she couldn’t make it tonight,” Daario replied while keeping his eyes on the two servers standing by the bar who were obviously staring at him and giggling together.“Oh,” Jon said feeling keenly disappointed on top of that same crushing guilt he’d felt at the mere mention of her name ever since he’d kissed her.“God…I cannot thank you enough for putting me on that billboard!” Daario said a few minutes later when their server, a cute blonde, dropped off their beers and slipped him her number.“Yeah…well, it’s been good for business. It was all Sansa’s idea,” Jon said as he took a sip of his drink.“I’m sure you’ll miss her when she’s gone,” Sam said.Jon’s head shot up and he saw Gilly elbow her husband hard in the gut. “What?” he sputtered.He saw Grenn’s look of surprise, too. Daario was still eye-fucking the servers and might’ve been on another planet for all the attention he was paying to the rest of them right now.Gilly cleared her throat and said, “She’s registered to start at school…for the spring semester. She said she probably wouldn’t be able to handle working full time and her course load. I’m sorry, Jon. I know she wants to tell you herself. I didn’t know my idiot here would blab,” she said jerking her thumb at Sam.“I…I’m sorry. I need to go,” Jon said throwing down some money for everyone’s drinks and heading blindly towards the door.He had to talk to her. He had to explain himself and try to make up for the way he’d handled everything. He didn’t want to lose her. If she didn’t want to work for him anymore that was one thing but he didn’t want her to drift back out of his life again like when they were kids. Even if she didn’t feel the same way about him that he felt about her. Sansa sat on her couch looking at her bills on Friday evening with Lady at her feet. She was making decent money at Snowman’s and if she quit once she started school, it’d be difficult to afford her rent and expenses on a part-time job that would pay less. You need to do this though. You don’t want to be an amusement for him to take his mind off her like you were for Harry.She knew she wasn’t exactly being fair, comparing Jon to Harry. He wasn’t like Harry. He was caring and kind. He was her friend. And maybe he did have feelings for her that weren’t tied to ending whatever he had with Ygritte. Maybe she’d screwed up her chance to be with him by reacting as she did. Maybe, maybe, maybe…But if she stayed there, she wouldn’t be able to resist him much longer. The memory of that brief but sweet kiss had left her wanting more. However, the thoughts of being rejected now or worse...being used and then discarded like what had happened at school frightened her. It frightened her so much it made her chest feel like it was being crushed.Putting away her bills with a frustrated sigh, she changed into her pajamas and turned on the TV to escape all her uncertainties for a time. “Pride and Prejudice” was playing which was probably one of her favorite movies. She popped some corn to lose herself in Austen’s tale of love and misunderstandings. It was nearly to the part where Mr. Darcy declares his feelings for Elizabeth in such a biting and pitiable fashion when Lady barked and there was a knock at her door.“Figures,” she grumbled, muting the TV and going to see who could be calling on her this late. She gasped when she opened the door and found Jon standing there.“Hey,” he said. “I’m sorry to stop by unannounced.”She leaned against the door waiting for a little more explanation but none was forthcoming so she sighed and opened the door wider, gesturing for him to come in. Lady came over to greet him with her tail wagging. She’d liked Jon immediately from the first time they’d met. Lady always likes other dog people anyway, she thought sourly. He had squatted down to give Lady some attention while Sansa stood by her couch with her arms folded across her chest watching him. She felt perturbed and more than a little worried that her resolve would crumble with him here. He looked up nervously and cleared his throat before standing again.“Sansa, I came here tonight to try and talk to you about some things. To try and patch things up between us again maybe?”“Patch things up? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said reservedly, glancing at the television as Elizabeth was refusing Darcy’s inept proposal. He needed to be taken down a notch or two anyway.“Yes, I think you do. We’ve been avoiding talking about what happened that morning. You didn’t want to talk about it so I let it go when maybe I shouldn’t have.”“When would we have talked exactly?” she said with more acerbity than intended. Stop acting angry and hurt. Don’t show him that you’re hurt. “You’re rarely ever at the office lately.”“I know. I’m sorry about that. I…I’ve been avoiding coming by.” She wanted to remain aloof, to show him that none of it mattered. She didn’t want him to know how easily she could be hurt by him. She huffed in irritation instead. So much for playing it cool. “But maybe not for the reasons you think,” he continued.“Oh?”“Sansa, I wasn’t trying to forget Ygritte with you. I wouldn’t ever want to use you that way.”“I didn’t think you’d purposely want to do that,” she conceded. “I know you’re not like that.”“There wasn’t anything much between us anyway. And, I stopped seeing her because I realized I had feelings for you. Actually, Ygritte pointed it out first. She was, uh…a bit jealous of you.”“No shit,” she said widening her eyes in mock surprise and letting the sarcasm drip off her tongue.He smiled. He’d never been thrown off by her sarcasm. Things had been so easy between them for so many months. She’d missed that the past couple of weeks.“She had a valid reason to be. I started to fall for you…without even realizing it…and she called me out on it. I was afraid at first, afraid of hurting our friendship and our work relationship but, once I stopped trying to deny my feelings, they became so clear.” Sansa looked away from the intensity of his gaze. Her breath was getting short and she felt flushed. He was so handsome and standing here in her apartment and saying the things she wanted to hear. She was afraid that if she closed her eyes, she’d wake up and this would prove to be nothing more than a dream. “Sansa…what are you watching?” he asked a minute or so later, clearly wounded that she appeared to be watching TV and ignoring him.Sansa glanced at him and then the set, her eyes focusing for just a moment on the screen. Elizabeth was left standing alone. Darcy had walked away. They would work everything out later and wind up together and happy but they would be parted and in pain for a long time in between. And, Sansa realized she didn’t want that. Life is not a song or a movie. We’re not actors playing a role. She wanted to be happy with a man that wanted her…that cared about her. She didn’t want to play games or wrap herself in her hurt feelings or let past pain cause her to miss out on what was right in front of her.“I’m sorry,” she said, looking back at him. She’d been staring off like the biggest idiot as this man who she loved but who was not always the best with words was trying to express himself and his feelings about her…to her. “I’m sorry, Jon. I’ll just turn this off,” she said smiling at him. He nodded but still stood there uncertainly with his hands shoved in his jean pockets. “Jon, I’m sorry for how I reacted that morning.”“No, I’m sorry I was stupid. I should’ve just told you how I felt about you…how I’ve been feeling about you for months really.”“It’s okay. I had a bad experience at school with a guy that left me doubting myself. But, I should’ve given you a chance to explain that morning.”“Sansa,” he said coming closer. “I’ve enjoyed working with you and becoming friends. Your friendship means a good deal to me and I don’t want to ruin it but I have to get this off my chest before I lose my nerve.” He paused and drew a deep breath before saying, “I’m in love with you. I didn’t expect it to happen when you started but it has.” She started to speak but he raised his hand. “Please…I’ll never manage to get it all out if I don’t say this now.” She closed her mouth and waited for him to continue. “You’re the first thing I think of when I wake up every morning and the last thought I have before I go to bed at night. You’re smart and clever and you push me to try things that I might be reluctant to do…but in a good way. You must know you’re beautiful but I’ll say it anyway. You are beautiful but it’s more than the way you look. You’re beautiful on the inside and out. You make me wish I was a better man, a man that was worthy of you.” Sansa opened her mouth to argue but he kept talking. “Gilly said you’re going back to school and thinking about quitting. I want you to go back to school but I hope you won’t quit because of me. If you don’t feel the same way about me, I’ll respect that and I won’t bother you again with this, I promise. But if you want to keep the job, I’ll find a way to make that work for you and…”Jon Snow had done a lot of talking…for him. And, Sansa wasn’t going to let him go any further.“Stop talking and kiss me, Jon.” He looked genuinely surprised. “Yes, I want you to kiss me. I…I’m in love with you, too.”“You love me?” he asked.“Yes. I feel like an idiot for not saying it sooner,” she laughed.He laughed with her before he took her hand in his. “Well, I guess the feeling is mutual.”She nodded with a giddy grin on her face. He put his other hand on her waist and pulled her to him. He moved agonizingly slow and Sansa thought she might combust on the spot waiting for that kiss. He looked in her eyes for the longest time it seemed, one hand holding her waist while the other held her hand. Their lips were mere inches apart and Sansa licked her lips and felt her heart pounding in anticipation of that kiss. At last, he leaned in and his eyes closed just before Sansa’s did. The firm but gentle pressure of his lips on hers consumed every thought. She ran her hands up to grasp his shoulders and then moved them into his hair. His other hand now free, he grasped her waist with both hands and pulled her body more firmly up against his while he kissed her till she thought she might faint.“Bed,” she sighed when their mouths parted several minutes later.“You’re sure?” he asked in surprise.“I am now.”She tugged at his hand to lead him but Jon was a doer and he lifted her up into his arms to carry her to her bedroom. Lady barked once and started wagging her tail. Once in her room, Jon sat her back on her feet and Sansa immediately started unbuttoning his shirt while Jon began kissing her neck. His beard tickled and she giggled and pulled away causing Jon to playfully pursue her around the bed. Sansa pulled her pajama top off and threw is at him. He froze and she liked the way his mouth parted and his eyes widened at the sight of her bare breasts. Then, he licked his lips subconsciously and she liked that, too.“You still have on too many clothes,” she teased as she climbed onto her bed.He sat down and pulled off his boots and socks and his shirt and jeans. Down to his boxers, he crawled up next to her.“Please tell me this is real,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down on top of him.“It is. It’s real…all of it.”He tilted forward to kiss her again while keeping his hands on her waist. Sansa had herself braced against his chest and allowed her fingers to card through his hair as their lips and tongues met again. Jon moved a hand up to cup a breast and his deft fingers quickly teased and tweaked a nipple into a stiff peak. His tongue and his fingers were leaving Sansa wet and breathless for more. She spread her legs and sat up to begin grinding against his stiff cock. His eyes upon her were loving and soft but full of desire, too. No man had ever made her feel so loved and wanted as he did with just a look.“I love you,” she said as he sat up to hold her to him while she rocked against him.“I love you, too. I love you so very much,” he said, kissing her shoulders and chest.Jon tucked his fingers into the waist band of her pajama bottoms and looked at her. She nodded and allowed him to tug them down. She moved off him long enough to kick them the rest of the way off and then helped him with his boxers.His cock was hard and weeping when she climbed back up his body. She stroked him with her hand a few times, slowly working the precum around the head of his shaft with her thumb but, before she could lower herself to him, his hand found her center, stroking her slit and then gently rubbing her clit before he entered her with one finger and then a second. His other hand, so warm and callused, was at the small of her back, lazily caressing her back and ass while he pleasured her with masterful skill and loving tenderness.Sansa was nearly shaking with the heat of this tension…this build-up before the coveted release. Her knees felt weak as she hovered over his groin and her hand clutched the mattress now on either side of his head to keep from collapsing. That delicious coil of longing unfurling at his touch alone. His thumb massaging her clit while his fingers were curling inside just slightly but at just the right spot. She begged him not to stop though she was more than ready for his cock by now. She could feel the heat of it pressed against her inner thigh but this was so good. Never had she experienced a hand job this intense and enjoyable in her life.His eyes never left her face. He was watching and waiting for her to reach that summit.“You really are good with your hands,” she moaned, biting her lip as her peak neared.“Well, I could point out what I do for a living,” he laughed softly. “But, right now I’d rather watch you come for me,” he finished just as he leaned up to suckle at her breasts at last.Yes, he was good with those hands…and that mouth. Sansa came for him then, crying out as her toes curled before she gently bit his shoulder. She collapsed on top of him as her climax rippled through her. He pulled his hand back up between them and methodically licked his fingers before kissing her again. She laid on top of his muscular frame while catching her breath for a moment before she hungrily started to devour his mouth while she centered herself above his cock. She inched downward and was rewarded with Jon’s moans and cries now.“Fuck…sweet girl,” he panted as Sansa sheathed him fully and began moving her hips in time with his thrusts.“Yes, Jon…that’s right. Fuck your sweet girl now,” she said with a cheeky grin that brought out a louder groan from him.“Do you know how hot it makes me when you’re telling me what to do?” he chuckled.“Uhhh…uh, no...” she said barely able to answer. His hands were gripping her hips while his hips were bucking into her more forcefully now, already coaxing another sweet release from her wet and swollen cunt. “Ohhh…Jon! Don’t stop!” she cried as she peaked once more.“So…ahhh…fucking…unnn…hot,” he grunted right before his own orgasm carried him over the edge, leaving them both sweaty but sated. “Sansa, love…I never want to let you go,” he whispered afterwards as he pulled her up against him for gentle kisses now.“Good. You won’t have to,” she simply said, utterly content and happy…and feeling so loved. Eight weeks later, Sansa had started school but she was still working at Snowman’s part-time. She didn’t get to spend as much time in the office as before but she’d sit at the kitchen table at night working on the books or helping him with payroll once any studying she had was done while he made their dinner and they’d talk about work and her school amongst other things.Jon had hired an electrician named Dacey to help full time now and another plumber named Edd to help Grenn. Daario had been asking for an assistant and Jon figured he’d need to get him one soon with the way business was going. Gilly was still managing the phones on her own but Sansa suggested that she might need some part-time help soon.Tonight, Sansa put down her pencil and put away her work and enjoyed watching Jon finishing up their dinner in his jeans, t-shirt and socked feet.“I like this,” she said as he sat the food down on the table.“What? My lemon chicken?” he asked.“Well, yes…but I meant I like being here together at night. Talking and eating and working together.”“I like it, too,” he said with a smile as he took her hand and kissed it. “So, you’re not regretting moving in with me?” he asked next as they dug into dinner while their dogs begged for a bite or two.“Not at all,” she said tossing each dog a small morsel of chicken. “I think Lady would revolt at being separated from Ghost at this point anyway,” she teased then.“That’s true.”They sat together in companionable silence while they ate, just relishing quiet time in each other’s company after their busy day. After dinner, Jon washed the dishes and Sansa dried before they took the dogs for their final walk of the night.“I’ve been thinking,” Sansa said as they walked side-by-side back towards the house with the dogs.“Yes?”“I think maybe you should do a commercial.”“Sansa…” he said rolling his eyes but smiling at her.“I think it’d be good for business. The billboards we have are fine but just imagine how much…”“Sansa…” he said with a mock sigh.“Have I steered you wrong yet?” she asked.“No, Sansa. Fine, we’ll do a commercial…just don’t make me be in it.”“Jon, I think you’d be…”“Terrible in it.”“Won’t you let me try and convince you at least?”“Sweet girl…I can think of more than a few ways you could convince me to do anything you say,” he said with a mischievous grin. “But I’d still be terrible in it.”Sansa smiled right back at him and said, “Fine…we’ll get Daario to do it.”
10624149	Sweet december	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Peter Parker, Wade Wilson", "Fandom": null, "Language": "Русский", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by EllarkStans", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-14T00:00:00", "words": "1,150", "Additional Tags": "Established Relationship", "Relationship": "Peter Parker/Wade Wilson", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	– Паучишка!Уэйд перегибается через спинку стула, на котором сидит Питер, обхватывает парня поперёк груди, дует на ухо, ероша короткие каштановые волосы. Паркер не реагирует, с преувеличенным вниманием глядя в экран монитора. Но делает он это не потому, что текст подготовленного к завтрашнему уроку доклада такой уж безумно интересный – но исключительно по той причине, что Питеру страшно хочется двинуть Уэйда локтем, и он едва сдерживается, чтобы это не сделать.Ведь Уэйд ни в чём не виноват – перед Питером, ясное дело, так-то грехов за ним водится предостаточно, хватит не то что на вагон, а на целый грузовой состав. Просто Питер в который уже раз за месяц ловит себя на мысли, что Дэдпул неимоверно его раздражает.И это раздражение вовсе не похоже на то, что испытывал Паркер, когда их с Уэйдом знакомство только начиналось. Тогда Питеру казалось, что если он приложит чуточку сил и терпения, то Уилсона вполне можно перевоспитать, наставить на путь истинный и вообще сделать из него прекрасного героя и хорошего человека – не Капитана Америку 2.0, конечно, но что-то близкое к этому. После, когда они сблизились, Паркер на некоторое время смирился с его чудачествами, и даже научился получать от них некое удовольствие: вспомнить хотя бы тот день, когда Дэдпул запихал его в самолёт, уведённый у Старка, и выпустил только тогда, когда они прилетели на какой-то безлюдный остров в Средиземном море; поступок свой он мотивировал тем, что, мол “Твоей бледной коже не повредит слегка обжариться на солнышке, а то такими темпами ты станешь совсем неаппетитным”. Питер тогда огрызнулся какой-то банальщиной, вроде “А мне и не нужно, чтобы я вызывал у кого-то гастрономический интерес”, однако на деле короткому пляжному отдыху был крайне рад – предшествующая этому событию неделя выдалась крайне напряжённой в плане геройства.Однако чем дальше шло время, тем реже Питер стал получать удовольствие от таких спонтанных выкрутасов, которыми жизнь Уэйда не то что полнилась – состояла из них на 99,9%. После и вовсе стал испытывать раздражение, сперва лёгкое и едва заметное, после – более явное, и вот теперь всё это свелось к тому, что Паркер желал треснуть Уэйда за одно только прикосновение.– Эй, ты не предупредил, что мы играем в замри-отомри.Уэйд снова дует Питеру на ухо, и тот сжимает зубы. Пластиковый корпус мыши под пальцами едва слышно хрустит.– Отстань. Мне нужно доделать доклад.– Ты сидишь над ним уже полчаса, – тоном занудного лектора отзывается Дэдпул, но тут же возвращается обратно к своему обыкновенному шутливому тону. – Пора сделать перерыв, половить мушек…– Уэйд.– ...перекусить…– Уэйд.– Хочешь, я приготовлю из них чимичанги?– Уэйд!Питер не выдерживает – с силой пихает Уилсона локтем, заставляя его убрать руки, и разворачивается к нему на стуле. Он не может видеть выражения своего лица, но подозревает, что сейчас меньше всего похож на “дружелюбного соседа”.– Слушай, это важный доклад, и я должен его доделать! Я понимаю, что для тебя это всё ерунда и ботанство, но мне это важно. Поэтому, будь так добр, не мешай, пока я не закончу. Окей?Обычно после такого Уэйд сгребает Паркера в охапку, ерошит кулаком волосы у него на затылке и разражается тирадой о вреде образования для растущего организма. Однако в этот раз он лишь внимательно смотрит Питеру в лицо, делает лёгкий кивок и уходит из комнаты, оставляя парня с раздражённым недоумением смотреть ему вслед.Впрочем, сидит в таком положении Питер не дольше пары секунд, после чего мотает головой и разворачивается обратно к экрану. С грехом пополам он вчитывается в текст, заставляя себя вникнуть в проблему защиты бельков от нападений браконьеров, и даже достигает в этом деле некоторых успехов, пока перед его носом на стол с грохотом не приземляется миска, наполненная клубникой.Содержимое её Питер видит, впрочем, далеко не в первую секунду.– Что за…Лишь с помощью супергеройской реакции удержав равновесие на покачнувшемся стуле, Паркер ошалело глядит на миску, после – на вернувшегося Уэйда. Тот же лишь пожимает плечами.– Витаминов для мозга тебе принёс. Сначала хотел взять чернику, но со зрением у тебя пока что, вроде бы, всё и так в порядке, так что кушай клубнику.Питер тяжело вздыхает и запускает руки в волосы, не сводя остановившегося взгляда с красных ягод, на боках которых поблёскивают капельки воды.– Я даже спрашивать не буду, откуда ты в середине декабря спелую клубнику достал.– Мы в Нью-Йорке, детка! – нараспев отзывается Уэйд и разводит руками в стороны, точно желая обнять весь город. – Здесь можно найти всё, что угодно, в любое время – надо только знать, где.Питер хочет ответить ему предсказуемым “И ты, конечно, знаешь”, но проглатывает слова и вместо этого снова вздыхает. Клубника посреди зимы – это ужасно мило, вот только…– Послушай, Уэйд…– Ещё я сливки захватил. Смекаешь? Так что давай, отрывай уже свои прелестные окорочка от стула, и…– Уэйд, чёрт возьми!Питер вскакивает на ноги – но не потому, что Дэдпул его об этом попросил, а потому лишь, что вспыхнувший гнев прокатился по организму, призывая к немедленным действиям, и сидеть в таком состоянии было бы задачей невыполнимой. Ладони парня сами собой сжимаются в кулаки, а брови неудержимо стремятся сойтись у переносицы.– Прекрати! Хватит уже. Послушай, всё было хорошо, но я не могу так больше.Несмотря на весь гнев, несмотря на грызущее желание высказать Уэйду всё, что так долго копилось внутри – просто взять и прямо сказать, что им пора расстаться и забыть друг о друге, – с губ Питера рвутся какие-то глупые общие фразы, не объясняющие ровным счётом ничего. И парню становится страшно, что в глубине души он вовсе не хочет отпускать болтливого наёмника от себя. Однако, скорее всего, этот страх – лишь следствие привычки жить с ним вместе, так что Паркер продолжает, пока Уилсон покладисто молчит.– Я… я не могу больше так жить. Я думаю, что нам… нам…– А знаешь, ты совершенно прав.Дэдпул уверенно кивает, отчего горло Питера резко сжимается, как если бы очередной суперзлодей сграбастал бы его своей ручищей. Разом растеряв весь запал, Паркер расширившимися от неожиданности глазами глядит на серьёзного Уилсона, и ледяной страх ползёт по его позвоночнику. Значит, он всё понял? Значит, он испытывает такое же желание?Дэдпул складывает руки на груди, уверенно кивает, и внутри у Питера всё обрывается.А Уилсон, кивнув ещё раз, уже более жизнерадостно добавляет:– Ты прав, тут совершенно невозможно жить. Вот что, Паучок – мы с тобой должны переехать отсюда. Где бы ты хотел поселиться – Гарлем, Сохо, Верхний Ист-Сайд? Только не башня Мстителей, а так – всё на твой выбор. Ну, что скажешь?– Ты…– Стой-стой, молчи, я сам угадаю, – быстро перебивает Уилсон, точно прочитав в мыслях Питера окончание его фразы – “...всё не так понял”. – Собирай шмотки и готовься к переезду.И Уэйд одним прыжком оказывается на подоконнике. Уже занеся ногу над улицей, он оборачивается и тычет пальцем на забытую миску:– И клубнику ешь. Сливки в холодильнике.После чего спрыгивает с подоконника, оставляя Питера снова тупо смотреть ему вслед. И Паркеру ничего не остаётся, кроме как плюхнуться обратно на стул и уставиться в экран монитора.Совершенно не видя текста, Питер смотрит в пустоту, меланхолично подцепляя ягоды и отправляя их в рот. Может, он и правда погорячился, и им нужно всего лишь сменить обстановку. В конце концов, кто ещё будет приносить ему спелую клубнику в декабре?Которая, к слову, оказывается потрясающе вкусной.
10658844	The Golden Necklace	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Mark Fischbach, Sean McLoughlin", "Fandom": "Video Blogging RPF", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Anonymous", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-17T00:00:00", "words": "1,893", "Additional Tags": "AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Death, War Mention, prince!jack, Commoner!Mark, inspired by a song, Sad, Angst maybe? Not really?", "Relationship": "Mark Fischbach/Sean McLoughlin", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "Anonymous, Anonymous Fics", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death", "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Sitting under the stars together, they leaned against the tree they were sitting under. Jack had sneaked out of the castle just for this, to spend the night with his lover, Mark. He was the prince, prince Sean William McLoughlin. And he was in love with Mark Edward Fischbach, a no-name in this kingdom. He wasn't from here, but had traveled from the next kingdom over. They had met in the city, during market. Jack had accidentally walked right into Mark and that alone had caused a scene, since everyone knew prince Jack and everyone was shocked how non-chalant Mark was acting. Thanks to that, they had spend their time on the market together, Mark telling Jack about how he had just arrived here the day before, and Jack telling Mark about the city, never once mentioning that he was the prince of this kingdom.They felt a connection between them, causing them to see each other as often as possible. Jack sneaked out of the castle, they met whenever Jack left the castle, Mark even sneaked into the castle. He once got almost caught as well, which left Jack worried about him, telling Mark not to sneak in again. Their relationship wasn't easy, but they loved each other very much. Sitting together under a tree like this wasn't anything new to them. Their fingers intertwined, Jack's head resting on Mark's shoulders, while the latter showed jack specific stars and constellations. It was the night before Mark had to return to his kingdom, return back to his family. He had promised to come back as soon as he could, and now they just wanted to spend the last night they would see each other together.Jack was shook awake by Mark in the early morning hours, before the sun would rise. He had fallen asleep some time in the night, resting on Mark's lap. "You need to get back inside your room", Mark said, his voice soft, while he let his hands run through Jack's hair. He had a smile on his lips, though it was sad. "I don't want you to leave", Jack whispered, reaching his hand up to cup Mark's cheek. He didn't want to have Mark leave his side, just like he didn't want to have to hide his relationship with him. "I need to go. But I will come back as soon as I can", Mark stopped his hand, letting it rest in Jack's hair, before retracting it, laying it on top of Jack's, on his cheek. They stayed like that for a moment, until Mark gently took Jack's hand away and kissed the back of it.Jack sat up and stretched a little, while Mark stood up. He offered the prince a hand, smiling gently, which Jack accepted. He let Mark pull him to his feet, holding his hand afterwards. "I want to give you something, before you leave", Jack said, and looked through his pockets. Mark watched, curious as to what Jack wanted to give him. The prince pulled something out of his pocket and kept it hidden in his closed fist. "Open your hand", he told Mark, who held out his free hand -which wasn't holding one of Jack's- with the palm up. Jack laid his fist on his hand, before opening it. Something cool to the touch fell into Mark's hand, and upon seeing it, it was a golden necklace, with a simple, yet beautiful, pendant. A simple plaque with an engraved rose blossom. Mark smiled at the necklace, letting go of Jack's hand to put the necklace on. The pendant rested between his collar bones. Jack smiled at Mark, who smiled back at him, before leaning in and kissing the prince gently. "I love it. Thank you, Jack", Mark said, holding Jack now close to himself. The prince leaned against Mark softly, smiling at his love. "I'm glad. I love you, Mark", he smiled, kissing Mark again, only parting when neither could breathe anymore. "I love you as well, Jack", Mark let go of Jack, his expression falling sad. "We need to part ways now. I promise I will be back sooner than you think", he smiled again at Jack, who smiled sadly back. "I'll hold you to that promise"..War had broken out. Jack knew his kingdom was strong and he'd be well protected, but he was scared not for himself, not for the people in his kingdom. But for his love, the man that had stolen his heart. Mark, who was resident in the kingdom they were waging war against. And Jack was terrified for his safety, knowing that Mark was in no position to not get pulled into the fights between the kingdoms. The kingdom of the McLoughlin's was victorious, and Jack's father returned back to their home, after the last battle. The whole city was ecstatic, celebrating their victory and their king. Only Jack couldn't smile in earnest, for he was still scared for his love. Once his father returned, Jack, his siblings, and mother, all rushed to him. They were all glad to see him alive and well, and victorious. The king had brought back small pieces of jewelry for his children, knowing how in love his daughters were with them. And he knew Jack liked necklaces as well, so when he called the young man forward, he smiled at his son. "I have something for you as well, Sean", he said, and put something in Jack's hand -it was cool to the touch, probably a necklace. "Take this golden necklace. I gave an enemy death for it", he told his son. Jack smiled in return, even if he disliked the thought to get something that belonged to a dead soldier. Once his father took his hand away, Jack could see the golden necklace in his hand. It had a small round plaque as pendant, which he turned around.Jack's eyes widened as his blood ran cold. The plaque had an engraved rose blossom. Tears welled up in Jack's eyes, which didn't go unnoticed by his family. But before anyone could speak, Jack turned around and ran out of the room, his hand clenched in a fist around the necklace. It was Mark's. His father had killed Mark, he had killed the love of his life. Taking the necklace Jack had given Mark before he had departed on that night that seemed so distant already. With tears streaming down his face, Jack ran out of the castle, ignoring every solider, every maid, every single person he passed and tried to stop him, tried to ask what was wrong. He ran and cried, mourning the loss of the single person in his life he loved more than anything, more than his family even.Jack's muscles burned and his lung was screaming to get more air inside of them, when Jack collapsed under a tree. He sobbed openly, curling in on himself, and screamed. No one was around, he was far outside of the city, leaving Jack alone under the sky. Once the sun was setting, Jack was still sitting under the tree. His hand hurt from being so tightly clenched all this time, so he carefully opened it. Looking at the necklace in his hand, fresh tears gathered in the prince's eyes, soon falling into his open hand. Jack cried out Mark's name, not able to believe that he was dead, that he had died in the war. Jack didn't want to believe that he would never see Mark again, that they were separated forever. Jack didn't want to eventually move on from Mark, he didn't want to fall in love with anyone else. He only wanted Mark.The prince fell asleep under that tree, and was awoken by the first rays of sunlight. He rubbed his eyes, standing up, ignoring his protesting muscles. He was glad he wasn't out of shape, but trained regularly in the castle. He knew how to wield a sword and shield and could carry out a fight for hours. It had trained him well. Jack started walking again, but not back to the city he had come from. He didn't want to return home, to go back to the castle and have to forget about Mark, have to move on. He wanted to find his love, to see his grave. To know he had one, and that he wouldn't be forgotten.So Jack traveled. Word got out that Jack had gone missing, that his family was in distress, offering a reward for whoever would bring him back home. So Jack had to get a change of clothes and a robe, to hide his face with. He was lucky to have found an understanding person, who gave the needed clothes to Jack without asking for anything in return. He was even fed, before Jack set out to continue his travels. Days, Weeks, passed, before Jack found himself in the next kingdom. He knew it was more unlikely to get recognized as the prince of the McLoughlin family here, but he also knew that if he got recognized, it would not end well for him. The war between the kingdoms had just recently ended after all, and it wasn't guaranteed that there weren't people who wished evil upon Jack's family.It didn't take Jack many days, until he came upon graves. He could clearly see that here had been a battlefield, and the people had been buried here, not knowing who they were or where they were from. A graveyard in a battlefield, filled with so many people that didn't deserve to die. Going through the rows of graves, never once stepping where a body would be buried beneath the earth, Jack looked upon the stones. Most of them were nameless, simply stating that a brave man had died in the war and was buried there. Jack stopped at a grave, reading its inscription. "Here lies a brave youth, who died in battle". Jack knelt down, his hand reached out to the stone. There underneath it, was a name engraved in the stone. "Mark", Jack chocked out, tears streaming down his cheeks once more. He was thanking the gods someone had known his love and had been able to tell Mark's family, had been able to give his gravestone his name.The prince fell upon Mark's grave, grief once more rocking his body, sobs escaping his throat. He was truly dead, and they would never meet again. They were separated by the means of life and death, Jack in the world of the living, while Mark was gone, now in the world of the dead, in the afterlife. But Jack didn't want to be separated from Mark. From his one and only, true, love. So he laid on top of Mark's grave, awaiting death. He had been weak and sickly, thanks to his long and exhausting journey, in which Jack hadn't been able to eat or sleep properly. So once death arrived, Jack was smiling softly. "Take the golden necklace, but please, take me to my love", Jack whispered, the golden necklace laying in his open hand. It was all he wished for, to be rejoined with his love, with Mark. And when Jack's eyes fell fully closed, and when his last breath left his body, the light weight of the necklace in his hand vanished.
10612485	So like the tube does	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": null, "Characters": "Sans (Undertale), Papyrus (Undertale), Mystery Voice (MV)", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by TheMostCrimsonOfCalicos", "chapters": "1/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-05-13T00:00:00", "words": "586", "Additional Tags": "Small enclosed spaces, Blades, Somebody ends up 'Sans' a leg. Hahaha- It's not funny. Actually quite painful., Semi-Sentient Microphones? - Freeform, Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Undertale (Video Game), Saw (Movies)", "Archive Warnings": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death", "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Sans awakens to pounding on what sounds like glass.He darts up, understandably startled, to see the slightly tearful face of his younger brother.He looks at his brother's concerned face for a moment before holding up his hand in a calming gesture, then giving him a thumbs up, he's fine; then he looks around and kind of wants to revoke it.They're both in a completely white room, with no visible door.And he's in some kind of small glass tube.The tube is almost large enough for him to stretch out his arms. It spanes up quite a ways. Not like building, or something, just pretty far up.He tries to summon a small bone. Nothing, the smallest twinge of magic, maybe, but that's all, if even that. He isn't surprised, what with this situation, but he really wishes he'd been wrong.At the very least, he still has his hoodie.He looks to Papyrus and is about to stand, but his shifting causes him to notice that the ground that he's sitting on doesn't feel right. He looks down, unease and the nerve wreaked expression that Papyrus is wearing making him do so slowly.And, hell, those are blades.Three of them. They are spaced out evenly and are wicked sharp.Sans almost jumps out of his metaphorical skin, but then he reminds himself of his one hp that he kinda wants to keep and stands up slowly.Sans fights to keep a calm face as he addresses the other skeleton, eyelights dim."paps? what's going on? where are we?" His voice sounds somewhat muted through the glass.Papyrus lets out a choked sort of laugh, something steming from too much panic and hysteria."I WAS-I WAS REALLY, REALLY HOPING YOU'D KNOW."Sans looked up, forcing a controlled breathe of air through his teeth. Oh, huh, it's clear at the top of the tube. He doubts it, but maybe it leads out?"I. I TRIED TO GET YOU OUT, BUT IT'S SEALED AT THE TOP.-"Sans had assumed as much. On both fronts."-IT'S JUST GLASS THOUGH, WHICH IS VERY STRAGE. NOT TO UNDERMINE THE STRANGENESS OF THIS SITUATION AS A WHOLE. BUT, IT'S LIKE THERE'S A OF FORCE-FIELD OF SOME KIND? EXCEPT THINGS JUST DON'T BREAK THROUGH INSTEAD OF MAKING THEM BOUNCE OFF? I AM NOT SURE.""huh. weird.""YES, VERY."Sans looked around again, trying to see if the saw something he'd missed, but nothing stood out. His gaze wandered back to Papyrus."bro?"Papyrus, who'd been watching his brother's quiet assessment of their surroundings, and secretly hoping that that he'd find something that he hadn't noticed, responded, trying to keep the anticipation out of his voice."YES?""are you okay?"Papyrus huffed, and placed his hands on his hips. 'Was he okay?' He wasn't the one who was stuck inside a tiny container with blades between his feet! And wasn't that just like Sans, to worry about him when he was in a worse predicament."YES BROTHER, I'M FINE. ER, RELATIVELY. THOUGH THE REAL QUESTION IS IF YOU A-"He stopped short as a loud thud sounded through the room, followed by a heavy slidding.Papyrus turn all around searching out the source of the noise, and found himself staring at the ceiling.A panal had peeled back and was now lowering- a microphone?The was the sound of someone patting the microphone, resulting in a loud and unpleasant noise. Then a voice rang out. "Hey, is this thing on?"
10706265	Vid What is love	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "Earth-19 Harrison Wells, Cisco Ramon, Wally West, Barry Allen, Caitlin Snow, Jesse \"Quick\" Wells, Joe West, Iris West", "Fandom": "The Flash (TV 2014)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by TheGeniusCallsYou", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-23T00:00:00", "words": "0", "Additional Tags": "Fanvid, Character Study, Friendship, HR sending love all around, 3x05-3x18", "Relationship": "Earth-19 Harrison Wells & Everyone", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }
10783968	Sweet Sixteen	{ "Archive Warning": "Underage Sex", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne (mentioned)", "Fandom": null, "Language": "Español", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by ValerieHell", "chapters": "2/2", "completed": "", "published": "2017-05-01T00:00:00", "words": "15,019", "Additional Tags": "Underage Drinking, Underage Sex - Freeform, Alternative Universe - Famous/Non Famous, Famous Louis, Teenage Harry, Anal Sex, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Sex, Light Angst, Louis is a dick, niall is a cutiepie, Louis has 20, Harry has 15 and then 16, Everything is a mess, Happy Ending, Harry is an idiot, just a little bit", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Louis Tomlinson (brief)", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Con el corazón martilleando, Harry se quedó justo en el interior de la entrada del club, tomando un momento para darse valentía. Esperaba fervientemente que parecerse al tipo de persona que venía aquí regularmente, en contraposición a un chico con una identificación falsa que todavía estaba un poco sorprendido de haber pasado por el portero.Después de unos segundos, comenzó a abrirse camino entre la multitud hacia el bar. La música ya estaba tirando de sus pies, pero él necesitaría por lo menos una bebida antes de reunir el coraje para bailar.La barra se alzaba delante, con luz de fondo y mágica, todas las botellas de colores brillantes como una especie de farmacia de hadas. Harry las miró cautelosamente. No tenía ni idea de cómo pronunciar la mitad de los nombres, y mientras los tonos lúgubres parecían prometer el momento de su vida, sospechaba que también le habrían prometido la oportunidad de estar enfermo y decidió que debía seguir con la cerveza embotellada. Suponiendo que le sirvieran, de todos modos.Se preparó para volver a sacar su identificación y estaba casi desinflado cuando no le preguntaron, la camarera se inclinó inmediatamente para sacar una botella de la nevera. Llevaba orejas de conejo rosado con pequeñas luces alrededor de los bordes y le guiñó un ojo a Harry mientras le entregaba su bebida y el cambio. Él sonrió, la confianza aumentando, y se alejó para examinar a la multitud.Tomó dos cervezas antes de que ser lo suficientemente valiente como para aventurarse en la masa de cuerpos, pero una vez allí se relajó con la música. Harry no tenía ilusiones en cuanto a la calidad de su baile, su hermana lo había comparado con un pony en patines de ruedas, pero la cerveza había sacado el borde de su autoconciencia y nadie estaba realmente prestando atención de todos modos.Una hora más tarde, Harry estaba apoyado en la baranda que daba a la pista de baile, bebiendo su cuarta cerveza y recuperando el aliento. Su camiseta estaba oscura con sudor alrededor del escote y su cabello se le pegaba a la frente. Harry sostuvo la fría botella contra su mejilla por un momento, cerrando los ojos.Lo que realmente quería hacer—y aún no había recuperado el coraje—era ir y unirse al nudo de hombres que bailaban a un lado de la pista. Mientras la mayoría de la multitud estaba mezclada, no había mujeres en este grupo, y estaban bailando como si lo sintieran, todos los cuerpos delgados, vaqueros apretados y camisas recortadas, mostrándose entre sí y a la habitación en general. Harry estaba tratando de no mirarlos, sin poder apartar los ojos. Quería pasar, ser parte de ellos, pero saber lo que quería y admitirlo en público se estaba convirtiendo en dos cosas diferentes.Harry sintió que alguien se apretaba junto a él en la barandilla, y obligadamente barajó los pocos centímetros disponibles para hacer espacio. Alzó la vista para encontrar a un joven que le sonreía con una desconcertante franqueza y se sintió sonrojado.--A Louis Tomlinson le gustaba el Club Bangkok los viernes. No sólo la música era soportable, también tendía a traer la mayor selección de la semana de chicos disponibles. Aunque lanzó un ojo embriagado a la multitud, tuvo la deprimente idea de que la mayoría de los que él deseaba esta noche ya los había tenido.Abandonó a los bailarines y miró a través de la multitud, sin mucha esperanza hasta que sus ojos se detuvieron en un chico que miraba la habitación justo enfrente de él. Tenía el cabello oscuro rizado y una débil sonrisa en los labios. Louis lo miró durante un rato, notando los dedos largos curvados alrededor del cuello de una botella, y tratando de imaginarlos alrededor de su polla. Oh, sí. Este era definitivamente el de esta noche.Louis se abrió camino ligeramente inestable a través de la presa de los cuerpos. La pregunta seguía siendo si su objetivo estaría interesado. No parecía estar con nadie, y definitivamente había estado observando a los chicos en la pista de baile, así que Louis pensó que había buenas probabilidades.La otra pregunta era si Louis sería reconocido. Su nivel modesto de fama había hecho sin duda más fácil conseguirle ligues, pero de vez en cuando su objetivo resultaba tener una aversión violenta por su música. Además, era embarazoso cuando alguien no sabía quién era, porque Louis nunca estaba muy seguro de si o cómo plantearlo. Sin embargo, pensó que este chico parecía el tipo que sabría.Se insinuó en el hueco inexistente al lado del chico, deliberadamente retorciéndose contra él. Se alegró cuando el chico sonrió, y doblemente satisfecho al notar el rubor inmediato que se extendió por su rostro.Louis tomó eso como que había sido reconocido y se alegró. No es que le importara especialmente que la gente supiera quién era, pero al menos no habría explicaciones incómodas si alguien más pidiera un autógrafo o algo así.—Hola —dijo alegremente.—Hola —Harry sonrió de nuevo al recién llegado, drenando lo último de su cerveza para enmascarar su vergüenza al ser reconocido. Pensó que el chico parecía vagamente familiar, pero no pudo ubicarlo y se preguntó si había estado en uno de los años por encima de él en la escuela. Sin embargo, era desesperadamente lindo y el rubor de Harry se profundizó al pensarlo.—No te he visto antes por aquí —la música era fuerte, y para ser escuchado, Louis tuvo que inclinarse y gritar a medias en el oído de Harry. Esto requirió poner una mano en su hombro, y Louis estaba contento de que no se alejara ni pareciera importarle.—Primera vez —dijo Harry de nuevo, entonces podría haberse dado una patada. Había querido proyectar el tipo de imagen mundana que gritaba una experiencia casual, pero a su nuevo conocido no parecía importarle, de hecho parecía satisfecho.—¿Cuál es tu nombre? —preguntó Louis, inclinándose de nuevo, sin perder la forma en que el cosquilleo de su aliento hizo temblar al chico.—Harry.Louis asintió con la cabeza. —Yo soy Louis —respondió, más bien redundante que él, pero siempre era importante no lucir como si esperaras que la gente supiera. Él sonrió—. Entonces, ¿quieres bailar?Los ojos de Harry se abrieron de par en par. —¿Contigo? —preguntó, apenas capaz de creer que un chico tan magnífico como éste quisiera bailar con él.—Ésa era la idea general —soltó Louis, interpretando de inmediato los nervios de Harry como que éste estaba deslumbrado.—Lo siento, quiero decir, sí, quiero decir, me encantaría —Harry hizo una mueca de dolor. No era la respuesta más suave que podía haber esperado, pero Louis estaba agarrando su mano y llevándolo a través de la multitud y él apenas podía creer su suerte.Durante un tiempo bailaron juntos, cerca pero sin tocar, hasta que Louis se metió en el espacio personal de Harry con el pretexto de acercarse lo suficiente para ser escuchado, y luego nunca lo dejó de nuevo. Girando más cerca, el brazo de Louis de alguna manera parecía estar alrededor de los hombros de Harry, entonces Harry tenía que deslizar el suyo por la cintura redonda de Louis para evitar que tropezaran entre sí, hasta que sin parecer una acción deliberada, bailaban uno contra otro. La incomodidad de los primeros momentos se relajó mientras encontraban el ritmo del otro, y se reían girando sobre el suelo, sosteniéndose y deslizándose uno contra el otro.La canción cambió y Louis deslizó sus manos lentamente en los bolsillos traseros de Harry, acercándolo más. Louis ya estaba duro en sus pantalones vaqueros, y podía saber que Harry lo notó, tensionándose momentáneamente cuando sintió que el incontrolado bulto de Louis apretándose contra su entrepierna. Para el deleite de Louis, Harry no se apartó, sino que deslizó ambos brazos alrededor del cuello de Louis, pegándose contra el cuerpo de Louis. Louis lo sostuvo más cerca, ahora tanteando el culo de Harry, y disfrutando de la manera en que el muchacho estaba rozándose desvergonzadamente contra él.Cuando se dio cuenta por primera vez que Louis tenía una erección, Harry tuvo un breve momento de pánico, pero rápidamente lo suprimió. Había querido esto, se recordó. Y ahora que lo había encontrado, le tocaba a él no joderla. El empujón de la polla de Louis contra su pierna le produjo escalofríos, la idea de que un hombre debería estar poniéndose duro a causa de él—Harry instintivamente se acercó más, deseando más contacto. Se sentía extraño, nuevo, pero de alguna manera correcto, y Louis claramente aprobaba la forma en que iban las cosas.No pasó mucho tiempo antes de que Harry comenzara a endurecerse, y Louis lo sintió inmediatamente, sonriendo en el cabello de Harry.Después de un par de canciones más, Louis guio a Harry a través de la multitud hasta que de alguna manera estaban afuera en la calle. Harry se estremeció. Sólo llevaba una camiseta, había sido una cálida tarde de verano cuando salió, y ahora era tarde, oscuro y frío. Louis notó su malestar.—¿No tienes una chaqueta? —él había recogido la suya del guardarropa a la salida. Harry negó con la cabeza, sintiéndose tonto, pero en el siguiente segundo Louis estaba envolviendo su propio abrigo alrededor de los hombros de Harry—. ¿Mejor?Harry sonrió con gratitud y Louis se inclinó en conspiración, a pesar de que la música estaba a sólo un golpe distante ahora. —¿Vamos a mi casa? —Louis murmuró.Harry tragó saliva. Él no había esperado que las cosas fueran tan lejos en su primera incursión en el mundo de las discotecas, pero Louis era tan agradable, por no mencionar jodidamente caliente. Él asintió, apenas vacilando, y Louis le sonrió, antes de alejarse para tomar un taxi.En el camino de regreso al apartamento de Louis en el taxi, Louis mantuvo un brazo alrededor de los hombros de Harry, y Harry se inclinó hacia él, preguntándose en qué se estaba metiendo, pero estaba demasiado borracho y encendido para preocuparse mucho.En cuanto entraron, Louis tomó a Harry en sus brazos y lo besó. Era duro y frenético y ambos cayeron contra la pared. Harry era alto para su edad, tan alto como Louis, y devolvió tanto como recibió. Había besado a muchachas antes, y todo estaba bien, pero eso era todo lo que había imaginado que los besos debían ser. Había dientes y lengua, y el raspado ligero de la barba de Louis y el tenue aroma mezclado de aftershave y sudor.Después de varios minutos largos y calientes, Louis finalmente lo rompió, una sonrisa salvaje en su rostro. Notó los labios hinchados de Harry y su camiseta sudorosa y reprimió un gemido. —Vamos —murmuró, arrastrando a Harry por el pasillo.Al pasar por el baño, Harry se dio cuenta de lo mucho que necesitaba orinar. —Um —dijo, vacilando, y Louis afortunadamente recibió el mensaje.—Adelante —se rio, y Harry se encerró agradecidamente.Después de haberse liberado, Harry se lavó las manos y salpicó su cara con agua fría. Se miró a sí mismo en el espejo, ojos oscuros mirando desde un rostro pálido. Se mordió el labio. ¿Louis quería follarlo? Probablemente. ¿Estaba bien con eso? Una vez más, probablemente. Tal vez. ¿Lo estaba? Harry suspiró y se pasó los dedos por el pelo, tratando de hacer que pareciera menos salvaje.Cuando se aventuró de nuevo, Louis se asomó por una puerta más allá del pasillo. —Aquí —sonrió.Harry lo siguió a la habitación y tragó nerviosamente. Era el dormitorio de Louis, y las sábanas estaban echadas hacía atrás invitantemente.—Sólo… um… sí —Louis hizo un gesto vagamente hacia el cuarto de baño y salió, dejando a Harry solo.Harry se sintió perdido. ¿Qué se suponía que debía hacer? ¿Entrar en la cama? ¿O eso lo haría parecer un puto? No era como si tuviera idea de qué hacer una vez que estuviera en ella. Esperaba que Louis se hiciera cargo de él.Se sentó cautelosamente en el borde de la cama, luego se levantó de nuevo, demasiado nervioso para acomodarse. ¿Se suponía que iba a desnudarse? Nunca había dormido con una chica antes, ¿con qué rapidez debían progresar estas cosas? El hecho de que Louis lo hubiera llevado a la habitación antes que a la sala de estar debe ser bastante sugestivo, ¿verdad?Harry hizo su mente y rápidamente se quitó la ropa. Nunca le había importado estar desnudo, y al menos demostró que estaba dispuesto.Trató de acomodarse en la cama en lo que él pensó que era una pose seductora, y luego perdió los nervios cuando oyó a Louis saliendo del baño y se levantó de nuevo, casi cayendo sobre Louis cuando regresaba.Louis, descalzo pero todavía con pantalones vaqueros y camisa, miró el cuerpo desnudo de Harry y parpadeó.—Wow —se aclaró la garganta y sonrió—. Veo que tengo que desatrasarme.Harry, que había estado brevemente petrificado, estaba aliviado y aún más nervioso cuando Louis rápidamente se quitó la camisa y se bajó los pantalones.Desnudo ahora, Louis extendió su mano invitándolo y Harry se acercó tímidamente. Louis lo atrajo suavemente y Harry se tensó al sentir que la polla de Louis se deslizaba por la línea de su cadera.—¿Bien? —Louis respiró hondo, la palma de una mano curvada alrededor del cuello de Harry, el pulgar rozando detrás de su oreja. Harry asintió, mordiéndose los labios sin darse cuenta, y Louis no pudo resistirse a inclinarse para robar un beso.Harry dejó de intentar entender todo y se fue con él, relajándose en los brazos de Louis y dejándolo caminar hacia atrás hasta la cama. Se derrumbaron sobre el colchón en un montón desordenado de rodillas y codos, riéndose con una borracha falta de autoconciencia.Louis puso el edredón sobre ellos y se acercó más a Harry hasta que estuvo cubierto por encima de él, besándolo de nuevo con entusiasmo. Podía sentir la erección de Harry cavando en su estómago y empujó contra ella con impaciencia, haciendo a Harry jadear.—Dime lo que quieres —murmuró Louis, siguiendo una línea de besos mordaces a lo largo de la clavícula de Harry.Harry pensó ansioso que no sabía qué pedir, y en cualquier caso estaba demasiado avergonzado para encontrar palabras para cualquiera de las imágenes en su cabeza.—Lo que quieras —dijo él eventualmente, y Louis sonrió contra su piel.—¿Sí? —Louis respiró suavemente, lamiendo uno de los pezones de Harry hasta que era un pico rígido bajo su lengua—. Está bien.Se alejó y rebuscó en el cajón de la mesita de noche. Harry tuvo un momento de alivio cuando Louis volvió con un condón entre sus dedos, se había preguntado sobre esto, sabiendo con vergüenza que nunca habría tenido las agallas para hacerlo.Louis también estaba agarrando el lubricante, y Harry lo observó mientras apretaba algo en sus dedos. Louis le llamó la atención y le guiñó el ojo, haciendo reír a Harry. Toda esta situación se sentía un poco ridícula, pero ahora estaba excitado más que nervioso, y entreabrió las piernas sin tener que preguntarle, pensando que era bastante obvio a dónde iban esos dedos.Louis se arrastró más cerca, dejando marcas de dedos pegajosas en el muslo de Harry, donde se preparó antes de inclinarse sobre él con ansiosa intención. Harry contuvo la respiración cuando sintió los dedos de Louis entre sus piernas, frotando su agujero antes de empujar suavemente contra él.Podía ver la polla de Louis todavía orgullosa entre sus piernas, y tentativamente extendió la mano para acariciarla. Louis dejó una risa sobresaltada y se restregó en el toque, deslizando un dedo dentro del cuerpo de Harry mientras lo hacía.Harry dejó salir un grito, pero fue de sorpresa más que de dolor y lo siguió con una risita sin aliento. Louis estaba acostado contra él ahora, la mano moviéndose entre sus piernas, un largo dedo frotándose dentro de él. Harry se sacudió cuando Louis tocó un lugar que le hizo chispear con placer repentino, superando con mucho el malestar.—¿Sí? —Louis jadeó, acariciando su dedo contra el mismo lugar y sonriendo mientras Harry se retorcía contra él. Extendió la mano hacia el lubricante otra vez, estirando a Harry abierto con dos dedos ahora y besándolo en la rodilla, ya que se encontraba a pocos centímetros de golpear a Louis en la cara.Louis se echó hacia atrás y tomó un momento para poner apresuradamente el condón sobre su polla. Estaba borracho y caliente y tenía la embarazosa sensación de que esto no iba a durar mucho, así que lo mejor sería seguir adelante. Harry estaba extendido pacientemente delante de él, respirando con pesadez, su erección contra su estómago, dejando débiles senderos de pre-semen en su piel.Tratando de relajarse, Harry dejó que Louis lo acomodara como él quería y lo miró con los ojos muy abiertos mientras Louis se posicionaba. Estaba un poco asustado, pero muy excitado, y mientras Harry estaba preparado para que le doliera, también estaba desesperado por saber cómo se sentiría.Él jadeó en voz alta cuando sintió la dura polla de Louis finalmente empujando dentro de él, llena de lubricante. Hubo una punzada de dolor mientras era estirado más de lo que había estado nunca, entonces la sensación de estar completamente lleno fue suficiente para quitarle el aliento.Louis estaba tendido sobre él ahora, las rodillas de Harry dobladas sobre sus codos, empujándolo con un ritmo firme y rápido. Harry tenía la vaga idea de que debía estar participando más, pero todo lo que podía hacer era permanecer quieto y tomarlo, inundado de sensaciones abrumadoras. Todavía le dolía, pero era soportable, y la sensación de la polla latente de Louis empujando dentro y fuera de su cuerpo era extrañamente asombrosa.No había lugar para la conversación, los únicos ruidos eran los jadeos de Harry y los gruñidos bajos ocasionales de Louis cuando lo penetraba. Cambiando de posición, Louis dejó caer una de las piernas de Harry y se puso a su lado, la otra pierna de Harry cubriendo su muslo. El cambio de ángulo permitió que Louis se adentrara más en el apretado calor de Harry y de nuevo encontrara el lugar que enviaba a Harry espasmos de gemidos indefensos.Se agarraban el uno al otro, envueltos en una desesperada y sudorosa búsqueda de liberación ahora, desordenados y cansados y necesitados. Harry sintió que su clímax se acumulaba en una repentina espiral de placer, y antes de que pudiera tartamudear una advertencia, se corrió por ambos estómagos en largos chorros pegajosos.Louis besó los intentos de jadeo de Harry de una disculpa y empujó más duro en él por unos cuantos minutos antes de que Harry lo sintiera venirse, pulsando dentro de él durante un largo y prolongado momento de éxtasis.Tirando y desechando el condón, Louis bostezó ampliamente, entonces pareció avergonzado.—Lo siento —sonrió tímidamente—. ¿Estás bien?Harry asintió, sin confiar en sí mismo para hablar. Él esperaba egoístamente que Louis no quisiera hablar, él quería estar callado por un tiempo y pensar en todo lo que había sucedido.Louis se sentó a su lado, bostezando otra vez. —¿Tiempo de dormir? —le sugirió, y Harry se echó a reír.—Sí —dijo suavemente, sonriendo mientras Louis lo besaba.—Buenas noches, Harry —Louis de repente se veía culpable—. Es Harry, ¿verdad? —preguntó antes de poder detenerse.—Sí. Buenas noches, Louis —Harry se rio de la expresión mortificada de Louis y lo besó de nuevo.—Gracias a Dios por eso —murmuró Louis, también agradecido de que Harry no se hubiera ofendido. Parecía dulce, y a Louis instintivamente le gustaba, no quería enojarle sugiriendo que Harry era sólo el último de una larga fila de folladas al azar, por muy cierto que eso pudiera ser.Se acomodaron de nuevo, abrazándose y Louis apagó la luz.--Cuando Harry se despertó a la mañana siguiente, le tomó un segundo o dos recordar dónde estaba. Cuando se acordó, ayudado por el hecho de que todavía estaba pegado a un cuerpo cálido, sonrió. ¡Había tenido sexo! ¡Ya no era virgen! Estas eran cosas buenas.Se movió experimentalmente. Había un dolor persistente, pero nada drástico. Harry se preguntó qué pasaría ahora, si tal vez pasarían el día juntos, si Louis incluso quisiera tener relaciones sexuales con él de inmediato. Nadie lo echaría de menos, le había dicho a su madre que pasaría la noche en casa de un amigo, de hecho había tenido la intención de hacerlo, por lo que no tendría que hacer un largo viaje en autobús hasta su casa.Los movimientos de Harry habían despertado a Louis, que abrió unos ojos medio dormidos y lo miró. Había estado mucho más borracho que Harry, y por lo tanto estaba mucho más resacoso.—Buenos días —murmuró.—Hola —Harry le sonrió, acurrucado en la almohada.Louis se incorporó, deseando que su cabeza no se sintiera como si fuera a caerse en cualquier momento. —Tengo que orinar —explicó, saliendo de la cama y tropezando fuera de la habitación sin mirar hacia atrás.Harry suspiró. El romance, claro, estaba muerto. Se sentó y miró alrededor de la habitación, tomando más interés que la noche anterior. Justo al otro lado de la cama en la pared había una fotografía enmarcada de un grupo de hombres vestidos con esmoquin, corbatas de moño, en su mayoría colgando sueltas y con un aspecto notablemente triunfante, sin mencionar borrachos y desaliñados.Harry miró a Louis inmediatamente, y sonrió en reconocimiento. Entonces sus ojos se deslizaron sobre el hombre que estaba junto a él y frunció levemente el ceño. ¿Louis conocía a Liam Payne? Escaneó el resto de la foto, dándose cuenta de que era claramente una ceremonia de premiación, o quizás un after-party. Liam estaba agarrando una estatua de bronce y Louis tenía su brazo alrededor de él.Con un repentino susto, Harry se dio cuenta de por qué Louis le había parecido familiar. Era sólo el guitarrista de Liam jodido Payne. Habían estado en la portada de prácticamente todas las revistas durante meses. Harry se sentía caliente y frío por todas partes. Avergonzado, por no haberlo reconocido, y orgulloso y entusiasmado de que Louis lo hubiera elegido para confiar en él así, llevarlo a casa y hacerle el amor.En ese momento, Louis volvió a entrar en la habitación, usando pantalones de chándal y una camiseta que había sacado de un armario. Cuando vio que Harry todavía estaba en la cama, suprimió un suspiro de leve irritación. Se sentía como una mierda y sólo quería su piso para sí ahora.—¡Eres Louis Tomlinson! —exclamó Harry.Louis sonrió. —Er, sí. Casi siempre. Aunque sí hubo un fin de semana en Amsterdam en el que estaba convencido de que mi nombre era Marjorie, ¿quieres té o algo así?Harry lo miró, consciente de que, evidentemente, Louis había dado por sentado que sabía quién era. Y debería haberlo hecho, él nunca había esperado encontrarse con él de esa manera, o menos aún ser escogido por él.—Oh, sí, por favor, eso sería genial —Harry le sonrió—. ¿Vas a volver a la cama?Louis meneó la cabeza. —En realidad, er, tengo que estar en algún lugar —mintió.Harry se puso rojo, finalmente consiguiendo la pista de que Louis quería que se fuera. —Oh, claro, sí, lo siento —salió de la cama y buscó su ropa, agachando la cabeza con vergüenza.Louis lo miraba fijamente. Ayer por la noche Harry se había parecido a cualquiera de los otros chicos del club, quizá más guapo, pero esta mañana, a la luz del día y sin los efectos borrosos del alcohol, Louis estaba pensando con una súbita culpa fría cuán joven lucía.—Harry, ¿puedo hacerte una pregunta personal?Harry levantó la vista de donde se abrochaba sus vaqueros. —Por supuesto.—¿Cuántos años tienes?El rubor de Harry regresó. —Dieciséis —murmuró.—¡¿Dieciséis?! —gritó Louis, mismo tiempo en que Harry, que nunca había sido un buen mentiroso, añadió,—Casi.Louis lo miró fijamente. —¿A qué te refieres con casi? —preguntó en voz baja.Harry se movió nerviosamente, sosteniendo su camiseta en sus manos. —Bueno, los tendré el próximo mes, no es que haya alguna diferencia.Louis se dejó caer sobre la cama, horrorizado. —¿No hay diferencia? Le dirás eso al juez cuando me encarcelen por estupro, ¿verdad?Harry parecía irritado. —Si te molesta, ¿por qué me trajiste aquí en primer lugar? —se puso la camisa y comenzó a buscar sus calcetines.—Yo… no tenía ni idea —murmuró Louis defensivamente. Otro horrible pensamiento lo golpeó—. ¿Fue… fue tu primera vez anoche?Harry se había sentado a su lado en la cama para ponerse los calcetines, pero ante las palabras de Louis se apartó miserablemente.—¿No fui bueno? —dijo en voz baja.Louis se estremeció. —Mierda. Harry, no, ¡no me refería a eso! —él tiró de su brazo hasta que Harry se volvió hacia él—. Estuviste increíble.Harry no parecía convencido, pero al menos sonreía un poco. Louis suspiró. —Deberías haberme dicho eso.—No me lo preguntaste.Harry continuó tirando de sus zapatos y Louis lo miró, sintiéndose incómodo. Todas las malas maneras en que esto podía ser potencialmente dañino se desplazaban por su cabeza, superpuestas a través de la cara desaprobadora de su manager. Un escándalo sexual de menores de edad terminaría su carrera antes de que hubiera comenzado debidamente, tal vez incluso la de Liam, pensó culpablemente. Ninguno de sus fans sabía siquiera que era gay, para el caso. Si Harry hablaba, podría ser desastroso.Harry terminó de vestirse y se puso de pie con un suspiro. —Será mejor que me vaya.Louis experimentó una punzada de auto-disgusto. Aquí estaba preocupado por el efecto que podría tener una noche de mala actitud en su carrera, cuando había un chico de quince años al que acababa de seducir y desflorar. Se levantó y tomó las manos de Harry.—¿Estás bien? —preguntó con más suavidad—. No te hice… ¿te hice daño?Harry pareció sorprendido. —No —dijo él, sacudiendo la cabeza. Louis arqueó una ceja y sonrió—. Un poquito, pero estoy bien.—Deberías haberlo dicho —le dijo Louis suavemente—. Que era tu primera vez, aunque no quisieras decirme tu edad.Harry barajó los pies torpemente. —No quería que pensaras que no tenía experiencia —admitió, y Louis lo abrazó.—Oh, Harry, lo siento, de verdad. Usualmente no soy tan idiota —Louis tuvo un breve momento de ansiedad, preguntándose cuántos años habrían tenido sus otras conquistas. Pero al menos estaba bastante seguro de que ninguna de las otras había sido virgen.Harry le devolvió el abrazo, enterrando su cara en el hombro de Louis. Se sintió aliviado de que Louis no estuviera enfadado con él, nunca se le había ocurrido que Louis pudiera meterse en problemas por ello. Sintió el firme peso de las manos de Louis alrededor de su cintura y deseó poder ir directamente a la cama. Se acurrucó más, los labios cepillando el cuello de Louis, y lo sintió temblar.Cuando sintió a Harry tratando de besarlo, Louis retrocedió con pesar. Le gustaba Harry, y no había estado mintiendo acerca de lo mucho que había disfrutado la noche anterior, pero no había manera de que pudiera seguir más lejos ahora que sabía lo joven que era Harry. Recogió la mirada de decepción que pasó por la cara de Harry, y se preguntó qué podía ofrecerle por consuelo.—Mira, um… Liam estará haciendo un concierto secreto la semana que viene, probando algo nuevo, un pequeño lugar, solo invitados, ¿quieres venir? ¿Puedo darte un boleto si quieres? —preguntó Louis, esperando que Harry se sintiera complacido y no lo tomara como el descarado intento de insultarlo con una recompensa que era.Harry se iluminó. Se había resignado al hecho de que Louis ya no quería tener nada que ver con él, y aunque estaba triste por eso, no se arrepentía de lo sucedido. Pero esto significaba claramente que Louis quería volver a verlo y aceptó la oferta con impaciencia.—Nos vemos la próxima semana entonces —Harry sonrió unos minutos más tarde, de pie en la puerta de la planta baja del piso de Louis con el boleto cuidadosamente metido en su bolsillo trasero.—Sí —Louis asintió rápidamente, esperando que ninguno de sus vecinos estuviera mirando y que Harry no tratara de besarlo aquí—. Adiós, Harry. Y, um, gracias, sí, ¿sin resentimientos?Harry negó con la cabeza, un poco confundido, pero todavía lleno de felicidad que Louis, aparentemente, quería volver a verlo. Se despidió y se encaminó hacia la parada de autobús que Louis había señalado, oyendo la puerta detrás de él.--La semana siguiente, Harry viajó al concierto lleno de emoción y apenas oculta anticipación. Cuando llegó, el lugar—un gran pub con una pista de baile—ya estaba lleno de vida y se compró una copa y se metió en un rincón donde podía ver el escenario, aceptando el hecho de que era poco probable que llegara a ver a Louis antes de la actuación.Hasta el momento no había prestado mucha atención a su música, pero en los últimos días Harry se había convertido en un experto de la noche a la mañana, leyendo todas las entrevistas que podía conseguir y descargando su primer álbum. La mayor parte de la cobertura se centró en Liam, pero como guitarrista regular y vocalista de apoyo ocasional, había suficiente contenido incluyendo a Louis para que Harry hubiera perdido bastante tiempo mirando fotos de él en Internet.Había pensado en imprimir algo y hacer una especie de colección, y luego decidió no hacerlo. No quería arriesgarse a que Louis lo encontrara en algún momento teórico futuro. Él no quería que Louis pensara en él como un fan, él quería ser un amigo en primer lugar. Bueno, más que un amigo. En los últimos días se había visto más de una vez en sus recuerdos de su noche juntos, y a algunas de las fotos que había encontrado en línea.Las luces se apagaron y Harry sintió que su estómago se llenaba de mariposas. Cuando Louis apareció en el escenario tuvo que morderse los labios para detenerse de gritar en voz alta con las chicas en el frente. La mayoría de ellas gritaban por Liam, pero Harry notó que Louis y los otros miembros de la banda tenían sus propias facciones claras dentro de la audiencia.Desde el principio hasta el final, Harry nunca apartó los ojos de Louis, sonriendo a si mismo con la idea de que volvería a hablar con él en pocos minutos. Mientras Louis sonreía y reía y bromeaba con Liam en el escenario, Harry se encontró preguntándose celosamente si alguna vez habían dormido juntos. Por lo que él sabía, Liam tenía una novia muy pública, pero hasta la semana pasada nunca había sabido que Louis era gay, así que no lo sabía qué pensar.Harry se preguntaba si Louis lo buscaría entre la multitud. Estaba medio tentado de gritar y sacudir, pero todos los demás estaban haciendo lo mismo, así que probablemente no haría mucha diferencia, y tampoco quería avergonzar a Louis. Se dio cuenta de que había una buena posibilidad de que Louis no quisiera que nadie supiera que era gay, ni mucho menos que vieran a Harry, y estaba lo suficientemente feliz como para acomodarse a eso. Todo lo que quería ahora era estar de nuevo con Louis.Cuando el espectáculo terminó, y complacieron a la audiencia tocaron un par de sus éxitos más grandes como encores[1], la banda salió del escenario y Harry comenzó a abrirse camino con determinación a través de la multitud.Encontró su camino detrás del escenario sin problemas, vagando por un corredor que olía a desinfectante, y siguió el ruido de voces más adelante. Una puerta estaba abierta por una caja de botellas, y la gente se derramaba en el pasillo desde el pequeño vestidor al que todo el grupo había sido metido. Todo estaba muy relajado, y nadie miró dos veces a Harry mientras él se alejaba y se abría paso a través de la habitación más allá.Vio a Louis en el mismo momento en que Louis lo vio, pero para sorpresa de Harry no parecía tan feliz. Harry vaciló, repentinamente dudando de su bienvenida, pero Louis ya estaba abriéndose paso en el cuarto abarrotado.Sin hablar, Louis agarró el brazo de Harry y lo arrastró de vuelta al pasillo y a un paso de los otros antes de detenerse a mirarlo.—¿Qué diablos haces aquí? —exclamó, manteniendo la voz baja.Harry le arrancó el brazo del agarre de Louis. —Me pediste que viniera —protestó—. Me diste el boleto.—Para el concierto, sí, no para el backstage —replicó Louis, mirando ansiosamente para asegurarse de que no los oyeran—. ¿Cómo llegaste aquí?Harry se encogió de hombros. —Nadie me detuvo —él lucía miserable. Esto no iba en absoluto como lo había previsto—. Pensé que querías verme —dijo en voz baja, sintiéndose patético.Louis agitó las manos vagamente. —Harry… ya te lo dije, lo que pasó entre nosotros… no puede volver a suceder, ¿de acuerdo? Eres demasiado joven.—Mi cumpleaños es en poco más de una semana —Harry ofreció con esperanza—. Tendré dieciséis años, eso estaría bien, ¿no?—Harry —Louis negó con la cabeza, dándose cuenta de que tendría que ser más firme—. Te di el boleto como un favor, ¿de acuerdo? Pensé que podrías sacar algo de él, pero eso no significa…—¿Sacar algo de él? —Harry interrumpió, alzando la voz. Louis hizo una mueca y le hizo callar, pero Harry no estaba para que lo callaran.—¿Crees que quería venir a tu patético concierto? —le respondió a Louis—. Ni siquiera sabía quién eras esa noche, sólo quería verte de nuevo, pensé que querías verme, pensé que eras amable —agregó en lo que era casi un gimoteo, peligrosamente cerca de las lágrimas. Harry respiró hondo para dominarse, reconociendo distantemente que Louis parecía horrorizado.—Lo siento si te avergoncé —murmuró Harry—. No volverá a suceder —se volvió y se alejó a toda prisa, con la visión borrosa por lágrimas de mortificación.—¡Harry, Harry, espera! —Louis gritó tras él, pero Harry se había ido—. Mierda —se giró para ver a la gente en la puerta mirándolo fijamente—. ¿Qué? —preguntó, y se apresuraron a volver a sus conversaciones.Casi una hora más tarde, Louis salió del aparcamiento y empezó a llover. Se sentía avergonzado por la forma en que había tratado a Harry, y también arrepentido. Después de todo, de verdad le había gustado.Louis había pasado mucho tiempo repasando lo que podía recordar de aquella noche, temiendo recordar algo horrible que había dicho o hecho a Harry, pero había llegado a la conclusión de que si ignoraba el hecho de la edad de Harry, había sido divertido. Habían sido simple entre los dos, y a una parte de él le habría gustado repetir la situación. Pero Harry sólo tenía quince años, y eso era un hecho que no podía ignorar, por los dos.Simplemente había decidido a regañadientes que era mejor de esta manera para todos los afectados, por mucho que pudiera haber lastimado a Harry en el proceso, cuando vio a Harry bajo una luz.Harry estaba de pie en una parada de autobús, con la cabeza bajo la lluvia, viéndose frío y húmedo y completamente miserable. Louis vaciló. No lo había visto, nunca sabría si Louis seguía conduciendo. Pero… estaba oscuro, y era tarde, y Harry claramente había estado parado aquí por mucho tiempo. Y Louis se le debía.Cuando el coche se detuvo frente a él, Harry alzó la cabeza cautelosamente, listo para correr si tenía que hacerlo. Cuando reconoció a Louis, sintió una incómoda sacudida en su estómago, y genuinamente no pudo decidir si era placer o miseria.—¿Necesitas un aventón? —Louis estaba medio fuera del coche, la lluvia aplanándole el pelo, luciendo incómodo.Harry pensó en decirle que estaba bien, o incluso decirle que se fuera a la mierda. Pero estaba medio congelado, y ya no creía que su autobús fuera a aparecer en absoluto, y no tenía suficiente dinero para un taxi. Así que se encogió de hombros y se metió en el asiento del pasajero sin decir una palabra.Louis volvió a entrar y volvió a encender el motor mientras Harry se ponía el cinturón de seguridad.—Llévame a casa, por favor —dijo Harry en voz baja y firme.—De acuerdo, tendrás que darme instrucciones —Louis salió de la parada de autobús y volvió al tráfico.Durante un rato permanecieron en silencio. Harry se quebró primero.—No creo que mi autobús fuera a pasar —explicó, no queriendo que Louis pensara que había entrado al auto por ninguna otra razón.—¿No conduces? —dijo Louis, y entonces podría haberse mordido la lengua—. Por supuesto que no. Lo siento, fue una estupidez decirlo.—Lo haré cuando pueda —dijo Harry, para demostrar que no estaba enojado por eso, y Louis sonrió agradecido.—Mira, lo siento —dijo Louis con dureza—. Pensé que tratarías de sacar lo más que pudieras. La mayoría de la gente, en esa situación…—Sí, bueno, no soy como la mayoría de la gente —murmuró Harry.—Ahora me doy cuenta de eso, y lo siento, está bien, juzgué mal las cosas —Louis suspiró—. Nunca dije que no era un asno, ¿de acuerdo?Harry le dirigió una pequeña sonrisa. —Sí.Louis se relajó un poco aliviado. —¿Amigos?Harry asintió, sintiéndose más feliz. Se recostó en su asiento y vio a Louis conducir, el resplandor naranja de los faroles brillando en su rostro, un destello rojo de luces traseras. Estaba empezando a descongelarse y quedarse somnoliento. Recordó cómo se había sentido acostado en los brazos de Louis, ser besado por él, ser llenado por él. Harry sonrió, lejano, y Louis le lanzó una mirada burlona.—¿Esa sonrisa significa que no quieres matarme más, o simplemente que has decidido dónde esconder el cuerpo?Harry se rio en silencio. —Nunca quise matarte, incluso cuando eras malo —agregó y fue el turno de Louis de reírse.—De acuerdo, entonces eres un santo, lo entiendo ahora —él sonrió, girando hacia el norte de acuerdo con las instrucciones de Harry, e intentando no detenerse en el recuerdo de cómo Harry se había sentido debajo de él, flexible y dispuesto y cálido. No saldría nada bueno.Media hora más tarde dejó a Harry fuera de su casa. Antes de salir, Harry dudó, luego se inclinó y besó a Louis en la mejilla.—Gracias —dijo en voz baja—. Por el aventón.Louis asintió con la cabeza. —Gracias por dejarme disculparme.Harry le dio una sonrisa que brilló brevemente en la oscuridad, luego se fue.--Diez noches más tarde, Louis se relajaba frente a la televisión y se preguntaba si abrir otra cerveza o ir a la cama, cuando hubo un golpeteó en la puerta de su casa. Alarmado, se puso en pie de un salto y fue a ver qué pasaba.Parado bastante inestable en el umbral de su casa, claramente borracho, estaba Harry.—¿Harry? —Louis se quedó boquiabierto, tomando nota de su condición y preguntándose qué diablos pasaba—. ¿Qué mierda?Harry se balanceó un poco, y sólo se detuvo para no caerse. —Hey —le dio a Louis una sonrisa y Louis tuvo, al menos, un momento de alivio porque Harry no parecía estar aquí para gritarle borracho. A los vecinos les encantaría eso.—Es mi cumpleaños —dijo Harry, mirando a Louis como si esto lo explicara todo.—¿Y?—Tengo dieciséis —dijo Harry lenta y deliberadamente—. Legal —agregó, por si acaso Louis no lo entendía.Y borracho como la mierda, añadió Louis en silencio. Él suspiró. —Será mejor que entres —dijo, pensando que sería mejor sacar a Harry del camino y fuera de la vista.Harry le dio una mirada de adoración y rápidamente tropezó con la puerta. Louis lo atrapó y Harry se rio, aferrándose a él mientras Louis se preguntaba si lo había hecho a propósito.Ayudó a Harry a entrar en la sala de estar y lo acomodó en el sofá. —Quédate allí —ordenó Louis—. Voy a buscar un poco de agua, y vas a beberla, ¿entiendes? ¿Cuánto has bebido, Harry?Harry se encogió de hombros. —¿Un montón? —se arriesgó—. Yo solo… quería verte —dijo llorosamente—. Y ahora tengo dieciséis.—Eso dijiste —Louis le sonrió tristemente—. Todo un adulto, ¿eh?—¡Exactamente! —Harry asintió vigorosamente, luego pareció que podría estar enfermo y se detuvo abruptamente.Louis se apresuró a salir a la cocina y sirvió un vaso de agua fría. Cuando volvió, Harry estaba profundamente dormido, desmayado contra el brazo del sofá. Louis se sentó suavemente junto a él, y soltó una carcajada.—Feliz cumpleaños, Harry —susurró, y besó ligeramente en la frente al chico dormido.--Cuando Harry despertó a la mañana siguiente, abrió los ojos y se preguntó por un momento dónde estaba. Forzando a abrir los ojos completamente, miró a su alrededor y se dio cuenta con leve sorpresa que estaba acostado en la cama de Louis.Una breve investigación reveló que no llevaba nada más que sus bóxers, y se recostó sintiéndose desagradablemente sudoroso y tembloroso. Un movimiento en la puerta atrajo sus ojos, y vio a Louis inclinándose allí, las manos envueltas alrededor de una taza de té.—¿Cómo te sientes? —preguntó Louis con suavidad.Harry se arrastró lentamente a una posición sentada. —Como si oso hubiera cagado en mi cabeza —declaró, después de alguna consideración. Louis se acercó hasta sentarse en la cama y Harry lo miró con cautela. —¿Hicimos…?Louis meneó la cabeza. —Te desmayaste en el sofá, así que te metí en la cama y luego dormí en el sofá —añadió apresuradamente.—Oh —Harry no estaba seguro de si estar aliviado de no haberse perdido nada o decepcionado por haber actuado como un tonto. De nuevo—. No tenías que hacer eso —agregó, sintiéndose culpable.Louis sólo sonrió y se encogió de hombros. —¿Tus padres saben dónde estás? —preguntó, sintiéndose vagamente nervioso de que pudieran, pero también preocupado de que Harry pudiera haber sido denunciado como desaparecido o algo así.Harry se puso aún más pálido. —Mierda, ¿dónde está mi teléfono?Lo ubicaron en el bolsillo de los vaqueros de Harry, que Louis había doblado y puesto sobre la cómoda, y Harry se apresuró a llamar a casa.—Hola, mamá —él se estremeció, recibiendo claramente un torrente de cólera aliviada, y Louis retrocedió en simpatía—. Sí, estoy bien, me quedé en casa de un amigo —sonrió a Louis, que podía oír los débiles regaños de la madre de Harry diciéndole exactamente lo que pensaba—. ¿Qué importa cuál? —preguntó Harry, parecía incómodo.Louis se mordió el labio. Aunque no debería importar si alguien sabía que Harry había permanecido la noche allí—nada había sucedido, después de todo—sabía que el barro se pega, e incluso un rumor de cualquier impropiedad podría ser perjudicial. Sería irónico meterse en problemas durante una noche en que ambos se hubieran comportado completamente inocentes.Harry estaba rodando los ojos ya su madre claramente no lo dejaría salirse con la suya. —Con Niall —dijo finalmente, y luego—, mira, me tengo que ir, adiós mamá, lo siento —colgó e inmediatamente marcó otro número.—Niall, soy yo, Harry, si mi mamá te llama por alguna razón, me quedé en tu casa anoche, ¿de acuerdo? —Harry escuchó durante un rato y sonrió—. No, por desgracia, pero estoy bien, sí, te hablo más tarde —colgó de nuevo y sonrió con disculpa a Louis.—Es bueno tener amigos —observó Louis con suavidad, oscuramente agradecido de que Harry hubiera mantenido su nombre fuera de la situación sin que se lo pidiera.—Sí —Harry estaba poniéndose algo verde, y Louis puso una mano sobre la suya, donde estaba apretada sobre la ropa de cama.—¿Estás bien?—Creo que podría estar enfermo —confesó Harry a través de dientes apretados.Louis giró la cabeza hacia el cuarto de baño. —Adelante. Grita si me necesitas —añadió, mientras Harry se dirigía a la puerta en un súbito estallido de velocidad.--Cuando Harry dejó de tener arcadas frente al asiento del inodoro, se arrastró hasta la ducha hasta que se sintió mejor.Luego se frotó algo del dentífrico de Louis en los dientes, no le gustaba usar su cepillo de dientes, y se enjuagó la boca hasta sentirse más cerca de ser humano. Volviendo a la habitación, no había rastro de Louis, y se vistió lentamente y con lloriqueos ocasionales.Finalmente, fue en busca de Louis, encontrándolo enroscado en el sofá con otra taza de té. Cuando Harry entró se puso de pie y sonrió.—¿Te sientes mejor?Harry asintió con cuidado, y Louis sonrió. —¿Quieres que te lleve a casa?Harry se sentó cautelosamente sobre el sofá. —¿Si no te importa, me gustaría no moverme un rato? —La idea de un viaje en auto lo hacía sentirse enfermo otra vez—. ¿O tienes que estar en alguna parte? —preguntó, consciente de que Louis querría deshacerse de él.Louis se sentó de nuevo, teniendo piedad de él. —En realidad, no, sólo tenía planeado estar en compañía de algunas películas de mierda —él suspiró. ¿Quieres unírteme?Así que Harry se acurrucó junto a él, y el resto del día pasó en un agradable desenfoque de DVDs, tazas de té, y una vez que Harry empezó a sentirse ligeramente mejor, pizza.En algún punto de la situación, Harry se había acomodado contra el lado de Louis y Louis le había rodeado con el brazo para hacerse más cómodo. Incluso había ido a buscar una manta, y se sentían cálidos y cómodos y no estaban dispuestos a moverse.Finalmente, Louis bostezó y se estiró. —Realmente debería llevarte a casa —murmuró.Harry asintió con pesar. —Lo sé. Gracias, Louis. Por hoy, me refiero. Ha sido… muy agradable.—Lo ha sido —Louis le dio una sonrisa genuina y un abrazo—. No más llegadas furiosas a mi puerta, ¿sí?—Lo prometo —Harry se echó a reír—. ¿Puedo todavía venir a pasar el rato, sin embargo?Louis lo miró, ponderándolo. No debería animar a Harry, pero por otro lado, si el chico estaba realmente reconciliado con el hecho de que nada iba a pasar entre ellos, ¿dónde estaba el daño?—Claro —dijo Louis—. Si quieres, como amigos, ¿sí? —añadió rápidamente, viendo la chispa de esperanza en los ojos de Harry y preguntándose si había calculado mal.Pero Harry solo asintió obedientemente y no dijo nada más al respecto mientras Louis lo llevaba de regreso a casa.--El sábado por la mañana encontró a Harry sentado con las piernas cruzadas en un puf en el dormitorio de Niall, jugando a la FIFA. Cuando Niall anotó por quinta vez consecutiva, hizo una pausa y se volvió para mirar a Harry.—¿Qué pasa? —él demandó.Harry parpadeó, confundido. —¿Qué?Niall suspiró. —Normalmente me vencerías muy fácil, no es que no me guste ganar por una vez, pero le quita la diversión si no lo estás intentando.—Oh, lo siento —Harry cogió su cordón y Niall frunció el ceño.—¿Qué pasa, Haz? Hay obviamente algo en tu mente.Harry se veía incómodo. —¿Cómo sabes cuando estás enamorado? —preguntó eventualmente.Niall pareció sorprendido. —Er. Probablemente le preguntas al tipo equivocado aquí. Supongo… cuando no puedes dejar de pensar en alguien, ¿quieres estar con esa persona todo el tiempo? —se aventuró—. Algunas personas dicen que pierdes el apetito, pero espero que estar enamorado no sea realmente angustioso.Harry dejó salir una sonrisa, pero no dijo nada, y después de un rato Niall lo empujó en el muslo de manera alentadora.—¿Y tú?Harry se encogió de hombros. —Tal vez, creo que sí.—No te ves muy contento.—Yo solo… no creo que sienta lo mismo.Niall frunció el rostro pensativo. —¿Sabes eso con seguridad, o…?Harry negó con la cabeza. —Sé que piensa que soy demasiado joven.—Entonces actúa más adulto, muéstrale que vas en serio. ¿Vas en serio?—Yo… bueno, le di mi virginidad —admitió Harry, avergonzado.Niall silbó. —Bueno, eso suena bastante serio. Quiero decir… debes gustarle un poco si durmió contigo, ¿verdad?—Supongo —Harry parecía miserable—. ¿Qué hago, Niall?—Como te dije, demuéstrale que vas en serio, no aceptes un no como respuesta —Niall hizo una mueca—. Yo, er, no como… una violación o algo así. Sólo… dile cómo te sientes, tal vez.Harry suspiró. —Tienes razón, supongo que el rechazo sólo puede hacerme más fuerte, ¿verdad?Niall resopló. —¿Es él agradable, Haz? ¿Te merece?Harry abrió la boca para responder, luego parecía asustado. —Nunca dije que fuera un él.—Lo hiciste, en realidad —dijo Niall, sonando disculpándose y dándose patadas por el lapso.—¡Cuándo!—En tu cumpleaños, estabas muy enojado y seguías hablando de alguien a quien creías que ibas a ir a ver… Tu plan parecía ser aparecer en la puerta de su casa y tartamudear hasta que se acostara contigo. No sé cómo te salió eso.Fue el turno de Harry de resoplar. —No muy bien —murmuró.—De todos modos, estabas siendo todo misterioso y mierda, no nos dirías quién era, pero, sí, dijiste “él” un par de veces, aunque no creo que lo hayas notado.Harry gimió. —Mierda, lo siento.Niall se encogió de hombros, moviéndose torpemente con el controlador del juego, y Harry lo miró de reojo.—¿Te importa?—¿Parece que me importa? —Niall dijo devuelta agitado. Él cedió y negó con la cabeza—. Me importaría más si pensaras que no me lo podías decir, ¿eh?Harry le dio una sonrisa agradecida. —Gracias, y sí, en respuesta a tu pregunta original, él es agradable, realmente agradable.—Así que dile eso —dijo Niall suavemente.[1] Encore o bis: Ejecución o declamación repetida, para corresponder a los aplausos del público, de una obra musical o recital o de un fragmento de ella ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- A las once y media, Harry estaba frente a la puerta de Louis, nervioso pero determinado. Tocó el timbre con firmeza, diciéndose a sí mismo que todo estaría bien. Mientras la puerta se abría tomó aliento, puso una sonrisa y… se congeló.Parado en la puerta había un joven moreno que nunca había visto antes, observando a Harry con curiosidad y vestido solamente con unos bóxers negros.Harry lo miró, en silencio, mientras el chico lo reparaba de arriba abajo. Obviamente, le gustó lo que vio, porque guiñó a Harry y se inclinó sugestivamente contra el marco.—¿Te puedo ayudar?Harry encontró su voz. —Yo, uh. ¿Busco a Louis?—Oh, correcto. Bueno, mejor pasas —sostuvo la puerta por Harry, ojeándolo con obviedad mientras caminaba, luego cerró la puerta.—¡Hey, Lou! ¡No me dijiste que habías ordenado comida rápida!Se escucharon pasos desde la esquina, y Louis apareció, para el alivio de Harry, vestido con jeans y una camiseta, viéndose confundido.—No lo hice, ¿de qué estás hablando…? —se interrumpió cuando vio a Harry y se puso pálido—. ¡Harry! Um. ¿Qué estás haciendo aquí?Harry se encogió de hombros, incómodo, deseando estar en cualquier lugar ahora mismo. La parte suya despechada quería decirle al otro hombre que si Louis estaba vestido probablemente significaba que debía irse, pero no tenía las agallas y además, parecían más cómodos el uno con el otro de lo que Louis y él habían estado jamás.El extraño había estado mirando de Louis a Harry con curiosidad, y finalmente suspiró. —Bueno, Louis no parece que nos fuera a presentar, entonces… hola, soy Zayn —sostuvo su mano y Harry la sacudió, medio sorprendido.—Harry —murmuró, consciente de que Zayn sostenía su mano más tiempo del necesario.—Bueno, hola, Harry —Zayn se giró hacía Louis y sonrió divertido—. Mantuviste a esta lindura para ti solo, ¿no?Louis se ruborizó hasta la raíz del cabello. —Ni lo pienses, Malik, es demasiado joven para ti.—¿En serio? ¿Cuántos años tienes, bebé?—Dieciséis —dijo Harry, defensivo. Zayn le sonrió.—Eso está bien, ¿no? ¿Qué está mal con dieciséis? Demonios, Louis, sólo tienes veinte.—Ese no es el punto —objetó Louis, y Zayn sólo se encogió de hombros.—¿Puedo tenerlo, entonces, si tú no lo quieres?Fue el turno de Harry de sonrojarse, pero secretamente complacido por la vehemencia de Louis. —¡No!—Haz lo que quieras —Zayn no parecía particularmente molesto, y la determinación de Harry por odiarlo, al haber pasado obviamente la noche con Louis, fue debilitada por el guiño divertido que Zayn le dio.—Zayn… —Louis suspiró, y Zayn levantó las manos, rindiéndose.—Ya voy, ya voy. ¿Puedo al menos vestirme primero? —se alejó sin prisa en dirección a la habitación de Louis dejándolos mirándose torpemente.—Debería irme —dijo Harry disculpándose—. Lo siento, no sabía que tenías compañía, no quise interrumpirte, habría llamado, pero... no tengo tu número —se dio cuenta de que estaba divagando y se calló.—No, Harry, está bien, está bien —dijo Louis, con nerviosismo. Su cabello estaba todavía húmedo por la ducha y tenía los pies descalzos y un agujero en su camiseta, y era todo lo que Harry podía hacer para no lanzarse a sus brazos y respirar su olor—. Aunque… ahora no es realmente un buen momento… tal vez… podrías volver otro día, ¿no? —preguntó Louis con timidez—. Mira, aquí está mi número —él garabateó un número móvil rápidamente en el bloc de la mesa del vestíbulo y arrancó la hoja.Harry la tomó con los dedos entumecidos, consciente de que su rostro estaba ardiendo. ¿Cómo pudo haber sido tan estúpido? Se preguntó. Sólo porque había estado languideciendo por Louis y preguntándose cómo podrían estar juntos, no significaba que Louis hubiera hecho lo mismo. Claramente, la vida continuó para él.—Entonces, te veré después —balbuceó, y se volvió hacia la puerta. Al abrirla, Zayn salió de las profundidades del piso y pasó una chaqueta por encima de su brazo.Genial, pensó Harry. Simplemente genial. Había pensado que esto no podía ser más incómodo, y ahora tendría que caminar al lado de la última conquista de Louis. Bueno, mierda.—Adiós, bebé —Zayn besó a Louis en la boca y Harry se apresuró a alejarse, perdiéndose el hecho de que Louis lo esquivó con una mirada culpable dirigida a la espalda de Harry.La puerta se cerró detrás de ellos y Zayn atrapó a Harry, sonriendo.—Realmente no es una persona mañanera, ¿verdad?—No lo sabría —dijo Harry, rígido.—Lo que sea —Zayn sonrió, claramente no lo creía—. Entonces, ¿quieres desayunar o algo así? Me estoy muriendo de hambre.Harry sacudió la cabeza con fuerza, sintiéndose enfermo. —¿Eres su… novio? —soltó de repente, sin importarle si era grosero, solo necesitaba saberlo.Zayn se echó a reír. —No, Louis, no es de un solo hombre, supongo que podrías decir que somos… —pensó—. ¿Compañeros de follada?—Correcto —Harry no había pensado que fuera posible sentirse peor hasta ahora. Al parecer, se había equivocado.Zayn se había detenido frente a un coche negro brillante estacionado en la carretera, nuevo y caro. —¿Quieres que te lleve a algún lugar, cariño?Harry negó con la cabeza. —Estoy bien, gracias, tengo cómo irme, ¿sí?Vio a Zayn conducir con un chirrido de neumáticos y se dirigió melancólicamente hacia la parada del autobús.--Durante una semana o algo así, Harry estuvo desanimado, sintiendo lástima por sí mismo. De vez en cuando sacaba el trozo de papel con el número de Louis en él y trataba de armarse de coraje para llamarlo, pero cada vez que lo hacía se convencía de que iba a interrumpir a Louis follando con alguien más, y se acobardaba.Al final de la semana ya se había decidido. Louis claramente no lo quería, así que bien. No iba a engañarse más de lo que ya lo había hecho. Había muchos más peces en el mar.En el fondo, no estaba convencido del todo, pero odiaba sentirse tonto más que cualquier otra cosa, así que Harry decidió hacer todo lo posible para dejarlo todo atrás y salir a la ciudad.Se negó firmemente a reconocer el hecho de que la posibilidad de encontrarse con Louis era su razonamiento para regresar al Club Bangkok, sin embargo se encontró allí a las diez de la noche del viernes.Había estado allí media hora cuando una mano tocó su codo y una voz gritó: —Bueno, hola otra vez.Harry giró, con el corazón en la boca, pero incluso cuando se volvió estaba registrando que no había sido la voz de Louis. En su lugar, de pie sonriendo con una bebida azul brillante en la mano y lo que se veía distintamente como delineador, estaba Zayn.—Oh —Harry sonrió automáticamente—. Hey.—Hola, bombón —Zayn se insinuó más cerca—. Qué casualidad verte aquí.Harry se echó a reír. Había algo en Zayn que no dejaba de agradarle, a pesar del vago y persistente resentimiento de que había dormido con Louis.—¿Bailamos? —preguntó Zayn, bebiendo de su trago y dejando caer el vaso vacío en la bolsa de alguien mientras pasaban.Harry masticó su labio, luego asintió. —¿Si, por qué no?Se trasladaron a la pista de baile y pasaron el siguiente par de horas haciendo una variedad de movimientos de baile cada vez más explícitos, compitiendo para ver quién de los dos se acobardaba primero, y quien podía hacer reír más al otro. Ignorantes de su entorno, ninguno de los dos se dio cuenta de que Louis estaba de pie al lado del club, observando con una expresión vacía mientras intercambiaban palabras inaudibles y se dirigían hacia la salida.--Harry y Zayn estaban zigzagueando un poco inestables por el pavimento cuando fueron llamados desde atrás.—¡Hey, esperen!El corazón de Harry dio un vuelco en el pecho, haciéndole sentir mareado. Esta vez era realmente Louis, pero su alegría inicial al verlo se desvaneció ante su mirada. Estaba mirando fijamente a Zayn, y parecía realmente enojado.—¿Creí que te había dicho que lo dejaras en paz? —preguntó Louis.Zayn alzó las cejas, aparentemente imperturbable. —¿Desde cuándo te has vuelto mi jefe? —preguntó calmado.Louis parecía que iba a golpearlo, cuando Harry se interpuso entre ellos y empujó a Louis en el pecho.—¿Y el mío, por cierto? —dijo Harry, sintiéndose mareado—. Has dejado bien claro que no me querías, Louis. Bueno, tu responsabilidad por mí llegó hasta allí, si quiero encontrar a alguien a quien le guste, bueno, eso no es asunto tuyo.En este punto, Zayn deslizó obligatoriamente un brazo sobre el pecho de Harry y se apoyó contra él, sin romper el contacto visual con Louis.Durante un par de segundos, Louis lo miró con furia, y luego pareció calmarse con un suspiro.—¿Y si... y si me gustas? —preguntó en voz baja.Fue tan inesperado, por un momento Harry no respondió.—¿Q-qué? —tartamudeó finalmente.Louis sonrió tímidamente. —No puedo sacarte de mi cabeza —admitió—. No sé qué me hiciste, Harry, pero... me gustas, ¿si todavía te gusto? —le tendió la mano tentativamente, con esperanza.Harry no sabía que iba a hacerlo antes de que sucediera, pero de alguna manera se había lanzado hacia los brazos de Louis y Louis lo estaba besando con un fervor duro y desesperado.Cuando se separaron, sin aliento, Louis tuvo la buena gracia de parecer avergonzado. Sonrió con disculpa a Zayn.—Lo siento.Zayn se encogió de hombros, sonriendo. —De todos modos, él ya me había rechazado.Era el turno de Louis de lucir sorprendido. —¿Tú qué?—Sí. Le pedí fuéramos a mi casa, y él dijo que no, yo sólo lo estaba acompañando hasta la parada de autobús —Zayn se echó a reír ante la expresión indignada de Louis.Louis miró a Harry, todavía en sus brazos. —Me hiciste pensar que-Harry sonrió. —No es mi culpa si sacas conclusiones apresuradas.Louis le dio una palmada en el brazo y gimió, antes de besarlo de nuevo. Cuando se separaron, ambos empezaron a ponerse duros, y Zayn los miraba con una expresión divertida.—¿Puedo ir con ustedes y observar? —él sonrió.—¡No! —Louis replicó indignado, empujando a Harry hacia la línea de taxis.—¡Quizás la próxima vez! —Harry dijo por encima del hombro, maliciosamente, y Zayn se echó a reír ante la expresión de la cara de Louis.--De regreso en el piso de Louis, apenas llegaron a la puerta antes de besarse de nuevo, y las manos de Louis estaban dentro de la camisa de Harry, las palmas acariciando su espalda, presionando a Harry contra su cuerpo, su boca hambrienta sobre la suya.Se tambalearon hacia el dormitorio, sin siquiera molestarse en encender la luz, suficiente de ella derramándose a través del pasillo para ver lo que estaban haciendo. La mayor parte de su ropa ya formaba un sendero a través de la alfombra, y Harry se sentía aturdido por la excitación.Louis lo empujó sobre la cama, siguiéndolo, con la polla dura y lista, deslizándose contra la propia erección de Harry y haciendo que ambos gimieran. Harry echó la cabeza hacia atrás, dejando que Louis le besara la garganta, arqueándose a su tacto, amando el peso de Louis encima de él, la manera en que se sentía atrapado y acariciado al mismo tiempo.Podía sentir a Louis duro entre sus piernas, empujando contra sus muslos, demasiado desesperado para tomar las cosas más en serio, sólo queriendo, necesitando encontrar su liberación. La propia polla de Harry ya dolía por la necesidad de correrse, hinchada y sensible, frotándose contra el vientre de Louis con cada movimiento que hacían.Sus labios estaban aplastados contra los de Louis, lenguas deslizándose juntas, apenas tomando tiempo para respirar. Eventualmente, Louis cambió de postura, logró poner una mano entre ellos y comenzó a masturbarlos a ambos, áspero y frenético, los dedos arrastrando la piel, presionándolos juntos en su mano, resbalosos ahora, y Harry no pudo aguantar un segundo más.Fue el orgasmo más intenso de su vida; un ruido blanco le llenaba la cabeza y pensó que nunca dejaría de correrse, pulso tras pulso de cálido liquido recubriendo su pecho y vientre, con la liberación de Louis añadiéndose al lío momentos después.Su respiración parecía repentinamente fuerte en la habitación tranquila, el aire caliente y pesado con el olor de sudor y semen. Fue Harry quien encontró pañuelos y los limpió a ambos hasta dejarlos en un estado en el que pudieran dormir, y Louis le acarició el cabello con aprecio, jalándolo somnolientamente entre sus brazos.Hablaron durante un rato, sus voces bajas, puntuadas por besos ocasionales, hasta que finalmente se durmieron a la madrugada.--Harry fue despertado por un zumbido insistente y se agitó durante unos momentos intentando apagar su alarma antes de darse cuenta de que no estaba en su propia cama, y de hecho era el teléfono de Louis el que estaba haciendo todo el ruido.Louis salió, desaliñado, de debajo de las sábanas a su lado y rápidamente se cayó de la cama tratando de agarrar sus pantalones del suelo. Estaba a punto de apagarlo cuando se dio cuenta de quién estaba llamando, y parpadeó.—Mi representante, ¿por qué diablos está llamando tan temprano? —le lanzó una mirada de disculpa a Harry y contestó. Con sueño y calor, Harry lo observó desde las profundidades de la cama.—¿Hola? Sí. No. ¿Qué? ¡No! ¿Qué diablos estás…? No, por supuesto que yo no… ¿qué? —Louis pasó de desconcertado a aturdido a horrorizado, y mirando una vez a Harry e indicando que iba continuar afuera, cogió una bata de la puerta y desapareció de la habitación.Harry se preguntó qué había sucedido para hacer que Louis pareciera tan sorprendido, esperaba que no fueran malas noticias. Acababa de acurrucarse bajo el edredón, seguro de que esta vez al menos, Louis no lo echaría, cuando su propio teléfono comenzó a sonar.Gimiendo, lo sacó y miró la pantalla. Niall.La curiosidad lo agarró y respondió.—¿Hola?—Harry, ¿dónde estás? —Niall sonó nervioso, preocupado.Harry frunció el ceño. —¿Ahora mismo? —él dudó. Podía decirle a Niall el nombre de Louis, seguramente, mucha gente se llamaba Louis—. Estoy con Louis.Niall gruñó. —Fuiste tú.—Niall, ¿qué diablos estás pasando?—Harry… tu tipo secreto… ¿es Louis Tomlinson, el guitarrista?—¿Qué? —Harry se sentía como si alguien le hubiera lanzado un cubo de agua fría sobre él—. ¿Cómo…?—Alguien grabó un video de él la noche pasada, afuera de un club, besando a otro tipo, está en Internet desde esta mañana, nadie sabe quién es el otro y es demasiado borroso para verlo a menos que… —dijo Niall disculpándose—. A menos que lo conozcas, y es sólo... eres tú, Harry.—Oh, mierda —Harry se sentó, dejando caer la ropa de cama. Distinguió a Niall disculpándose y colgando, y dejó caer su teléfono a la cama.Esto era, claramente, de lo que trataba la llamada telefónica de Louis. Cuánto daño habría hecho, se preguntó Harry. Tuvo visiones escalofriantes siendo perseguido en su puerta por la prensa sensacionalista. ¿Cómo iba a explicarle esto a sus padres? Y Louis, Louis, que le había dado una oportunidad, Louis que había estado tan preocupado por ser atrapado con Harry en primer lugar—enterró la cara en sus manos y gimió.Entonces, un horrible pensamiento agarró a Harry. ¿Y si Louis pensaba que lo había planeado? ¿Que había hecho a alguien filmarlos para forzar a Louis y hacerlo admitir su relación? A pesar del hecho de que no había manera real de que Harry pudiera haber garantizado el resultado de la velada, Louis ya se había sentido preparado hasta cierto punto por las payasadas de Harry y Zayn, así que no sería demasiado el culparlo de esto a él también.Harry deseaba que Louis volviera a entrar. Podía oírlo débilmente, sonaba como si todavía discutiera en voz alta en el teléfono, tal vez en la sala de estar. Harry suspiró. Tendría que irse, lo sabía. Era mejor que se fuera voluntariamente que obligar a Louis a pedirle que lo hiciera.Miserablemente, Harry se levantó y se puso la ropa. Al salir del dormitorio, casi chocó con Louis que venía del otro lado. Louis todavía llevaba puesta su bata y miró a Harry de arriba abajo, incómodo.—Niall me lo dijo —explicó Harry en voz baja—. Supongo que será mejor que me vaya.Louis suspiró y asintió a regañadientes, empujando un trozo de hielo en el corazón de Harry, donde había estado mostrándose la vana esperanza de que Louis le hubiera dicho “a la mierda”, y declarara su amor por él al mundo.—Lo siento, Harry —murmuró Louis torpemente—. Pero sí, probablemente sea mejor que te vayas antes de que los paparazi sepan dónde vivo.Harry dio un paso adelante, luego vaciló. —Yo... no tuve nada que ver con eso —dijo—. Juro que no lo hice.Louis parecía asustado. —No creí que lo hicieras —dijo inmediatamente—. Ni por un segundo, Harry.El nudo en el estómago de Harry se alivió un poco, luego un poco más cuando Louis lo tomó en sus brazos y lo abrazó fuerte. —Lo siento —susurró Louis—. Esto es jodido pero… no sé qué hacer ahora, y va a ser mejor para ti si estás fuera de esto. Te llamaré, ¿okay?Harry asintió con la cabeza, y se despidieron con un beso, breve y teñido de pesar.Harry estaba a medio camino de la parada de autobús antes de que se diera cuenta de que Louis no tenía su número. El impulso de retroceder fue fugaz y rápidamente suprimido por la paranoia que Louis sólo había dicho eso para deshacerse de él, y Harry pasó el camino en el autobús de vuelta a casa luchando contra las lágrimas.--Tan pronto como entró a su casa, Harry se encerró en su habitación y abrió su computadora portátil. Tenía que verlo por sí mismo.La búsqueda de “Louis Tomlinson beso gay” en YouTube lo mostró de inmediato, además de otras tres versiones que la gente parecía haber copiado y, en un caso, pusieron música. El resto de los resultados parecían ser videos hechos con fanáticos de Louis y Liam Payne, que Harry decidió que realmente no quería investigar.Apoyándose, seleccionó el clip con el mayor número de visitas y presionó play.No era la imagen cristalina que había estado imaginando en su cabeza, de hecho le tomó un buen par de segundos distinguir lo que realmente estaba sucediendo. El video había sido presumiblemente tomado en el teléfono de alguien en la otra calle, y las imágenes eran inestables.Sin embargo, una vez que lo había observado, el corazón de Harry se hundió. Ciertamente eran los dos fuera del club, y estaban obviamente besándose. Acababa de ver la figura ligeramente borrosa de Zayn de pie detrás de ellos, cuando abruptamente el video se cortó de nuevo.Harry miró fijamente y comprobó el cronómetro. No, eso era definitivamente todo lo que había.¿Eso es todo? Pensó con incredulidad. Lo vio de nuevo. Quizás, afortunadamente, para él apenas se veía su rostro, la persona que estaba filmando se había preocupado mucho más de capturar a Louis.Harry lo vio una tercera vez. Eran, potencialmente, los más devastadores veintitrés segundos de su vida. Ciertamente de la carrera de Louis. Aprehensivamente, cambió su búsqueda a Google, no estaba seguro de que quisiera saber lo que la gente decía, pero sentía de una manera que le debía a Louis el descubrirlo.Después de un cuarto de hora navegando por varios sitios y publicaciones, se sintió mal del estómago. De ninguna manera todos los comentarios eran negativos, pero los que animaban a Louis casi le hacían sentirse peor, porque era él de quien especulaban.Cerró de golpe la computadora portátil y tomó una serie de respiraciones profundas. Mucho descansaría en la respuesta de Louis a todo, adivinó. Harry se preguntó qué diría, cómo lo haría. ¿Podría aprovechar la oportunidad para salir? ¿Se lo permitirían? Harry recordó la furiosa discusión que Louis parecía haber tenido con su representante y deseó haber podido escucharla. Se dio cuenta de que ni siquiera sabía lo que Louis quería.Harry sacó su teléfono del bolsillo y lo miró. Podría enviarle un mensaje a Louis. Al menos le daría su número sin obligarle a responder. Pero se dio cuenta de que no tenía idea de qué decir, y terminó guardándolo de nuevo. Todo lo que podía hacer era esperar.--Pasaron dos días antes de que surgiera cualquier tipo de respuesta al alboroto por parte de Louis, y no se trataba de una declaración o entrevista formal, sino de un tweet indiferente sobre el tema.Harry, que había estado acechando la actividad en Twitter de Louis sin encontrar realmente el coraje para seguirlo, de repente se alegró de que no hubiera conexión entre ambos cuando leyó el simple desorden de palabras que hundieron su estómago de forma poco placentera.Louis había salido de varios días de silencio en Twitter con un inocente ¡¿Quién está ansioso por la gira?! Procedió a responder a varios mensajes de fans sobre temas aleatorios antes de abordar finalmente la espinosa cuestión del video. ¡Muchas han estado torciendo sus bragas por ESE vídeo! Sólo estaba jugando con el novio de un amigo, ¡aún soltero, damas! ;D Harry sintió ganas de vomitar. No estaba seguro de si era la desestimación casual de su existencia, el hecho de que Louis estaba mintiendo entre dientes (sobre la parte de las damas, incluso si todavía se consideraba soltero), o la completa falta de vergüenza en el doble sentido de esa frase. Se preguntaba si Louis había sido obligado a escribirlo, o si había sido su idea. De cualquier manera, apestaba.Durante los siguientes días siguió la explosión de la renovada especulación con una especie de fascinación horrible. Todavía nadie lo había identificado como el otro hombre, y sus pesadillas de abrir la puerta y encontrar la entrada repleta de periodistas habían comenzado a desaparecer hasta que de alguna manera uno de los paparazzi rastreó, de todas las personas, a Zayn.Había un clip de la entrevista, que mostraba a Zayn aparentemente tratando de entrar en su auto. El resentimiento de Harry aumentó ante el hecho de que él no sólo quería hablar con ellos, sino que aparentemente era cómplice del engaño en que Harry había sido su novio.Charlando con el reportero, completamente a gusto con la cámara, Zayn continuó largo rato hasta que Harry finalmente se dio cuenta de que a pesar del torrente verbal, en realidad no estaba diciéndoles nada. Evitó la pregunta de quién era Harry, evitó la cuestión de por qué Louis lo había besado, aparte de confirmar que había sido una broma, y luego procedió a dirigir la conversación a su última empresa, hasta que el periodista estaba tratando ahora de callarlo a él.Al final, Harry casi sintió ganas de aplaudir. Tenía la desagradable sensación de que si hubiera sido detenido de esa manera, no habría podido mentir de manera convincente.Harry suspiró. Sabía en su corazón que lo que Louis y Zayn estaban haciendo era para protegerlo, también, de una posible reacción muy desagradable, pero eso no le hacía sentirse mejor. Sentía que estaba siendo borrado de su existencia.La semana siguiente, el compromiso de Liam y su novia fue anunciado de repente, y los chismes inmediatamente giraron en su dirección. Harry se encontró pensando en que era el momento oportuno, y si había sido escenificado, pero realmente no podía concebir una existencia en la que ese nivel de control era ejercido sobre su vida personal por aquellos a cargo de su carrera.Mirando en línea, encontró a otros expresando exactamente sus mismas sospechas, y no estaba seguro de si eso lo hacía sentirse mejor o peor. Lo que sin duda le hizo sentirse peor, fueron las siguientes fotos que surgieron de la fiesta de compromiso de Liam, en las que destacó Louis con una chica en el brazo que Harry nunca había visto antes.Jennifer, decían los pie de páginas, pero eso no le aclaraba nada. Era hermosa: cabello negro y ondulado, alta, curvada, con un vestido rojo escarlata y sonriéndole salvajemente a Louis.Harry la odiaba.--Era el día después de que las fotos de Louis y la chica habían surgido, y Harry deambulaba alrededor de la casa deprimido, tratando de sacudirse la sensación de haber sido engañado.Llegaba la noche y estaba solo en la casa cuando sonó el timbre de la puerta. Intrigado, fue a abrir la puerta, preguntándose si sus padres habían regresado temprano y de alguna manera olvidaron sus llaves.De pie, en la puerta, estaba Louis.Harry lo miró, momentáneamente estupefacto, y Louis le dirigió una sonrisa tentativa.—Hola —él miró nervioso de un lado a otro la calle y Harry de repente se dio cuenta.—Oh. Sí, lo siento, entra, rápido.Louis vaciló. —¿Está… bien? Harry asintió con la cabeza. —Sí, estoy solo, mis padres no regresarán por mucho tiempo.Louis lo siguió adentro, y se miraron el uno al otro, repentinamente incómodos.—Te habría llamado —dijo Louis disculpándose—. Sólo que no tengo tu número, no me di cuenta hasta después de que te fueras —Harry no dijo nada, solo asintió, y Louis frunció levemente el ceño.—Pensé que... ¿podrías haberme llamado? —preguntó con suavidad—. ¿O ir a mi casa, o algo así?Harry lo miró fijamente. Había pensado que Louis no lo querría a su alrededor, pero sólo se daba cuenta de que el otro lado de todo esto era que había abandonado a Louis para que se enfrentara al desastre por sí solo.—Yo... no pensé que quisieras verme —dijo Harry en voz baja—. Cada vez que estamos juntos la cago de alguna manera.Louis parecía sorprendido. —Harry, no, esto no fue tu culpa, nada de esto fue culpa tuya —extendió la mano instintivamente, pero luego vaciló y la dejó caer de nuevo, inseguro si su toque sería bienvenido—. Lo siento —suspiró Louis—. Supongo que habrás visto las cosas que dije.—Sí —dijo Harry tan neutralmente como pudo. Louis le dedicó una larga mirada, moviendo la cabeza en tono de disculpa.—Yo no quería, y espero no haberte lastimado, es que... he trabajado tanto para llegar a donde estoy, y no sólo estoy yo, sino Liam y los demás.Harry se encogió de hombros. —Está bien, lo entiendo, es tu elección.Louis meneó la cabeza. —También sería tu elección, si quieres... quiero decir, si... todavía quieres esto, ¿verdad?Fue el turno de Harry de parecer sorprendido. —¿Me deseas?—Bueno, sí —Louis soltó una carcajada—. No puedo dejar de pensar en ti, Harry, y estábamos bien juntos, ¿no es así?Harry sonrió. —Sí —respiró.—¿Entonces? —Louis parecía esperanzado, pero Harry seguía extrañamente reacio.—No estoy seguro de querer ser tu pequeño y sucio secreto, Louis.Louis parecía avergonzado. —Lo sé, y no es justo que lo pregunte, pero no sería para siempre.—¿Cuánto tiempo?—¿Qué? —Louis pareció sorprendido.—¿Cuánto tiempo? Dame una fecha —dijo Harry, sin esperar que Louis hiciera algo así, pero sintiéndose vagamente resentido—. No quiero tener que aguantarte constantemente prometiéndome que será la semana que viene y que luego no pase.—¿Dos años? —preguntó Louis vacilante.—¿Dos años? —Harry repitió, y Louis hizo una mueca, interpretando mal su estallido.—Lo sé, es mucho tiempo, pero... bueno, ya tendrás dieciocho años, y yo... o bien habremos alcanzado el gran momento, o habremos vuelto a la oscuridad y, de cualquier manera, creo que a nadie le importará lo que haga en ese momento.Harry estaba sacudiendo la cabeza con urgencia. —No… Louis… quiero decir… ¿crees que seguiremos juntos en dos años?—¿Tú no? —Louis parecía herido, y Harry parpadeó.—Bueno, sí, por supuesto, no pensé que tu… —suspiró—. Una vez Zayn dijo que tú… no eras exactamente un tipo de un solo hombre —admitió Harry.Louis resopló. —¡Zayn! —él sonrió tristemente—. Puede que seas mi pequeño y sucio secreto, Harry, pero te prometo que serás el único.—¿Qué hay de Jennifer? —preguntó Harry con cuidado—. ¿No es tu novia?—No, Dios, no, es sólo una amiga, una obligada —sonrió Louis.—¿No están durmiendo, entonces?Louis parecía tan alarmado por la sugerencia de que Harry finalmente se rio.—No he dormido con nadie desde nuestra última noche juntos —confesó Louis.—Bueno, supongo que habría sido difícil, dadas las circunstancias —Harry no pudo resistirse a señalar y Louis levantó las manos en señal de rendición.—¿Estoy perdiendo mi tiempo aquí, Harry? Lo entenderé si no quieres volver a verme, no puedo decir que te culpe.—¿Qué? ¡No! ¡Louis! Te deseo, ¿no te lo dije ya? —Harry agregó, parecía confundido, y Louis rio suavemente.—En realidad, no, no lo has hecho.—Oh —Harry le sonrió—. Sí, entonces, por favor. Carajo, Louis… ¿en serio?Louis asintió, haciendo juego con la sonrisa tonta de Harry, y se acercaron lentamente hasta que estuvieron cara a cara, nariz a nariz. El primer beso fue ligero, cuidadoso, pero el segundo estaba lleno de alivio y el tercero los dejó respirando duro y rápido.Harry deslizó su mano hacia Louis. Su agarre era cálido y firme y tranquilizador, y Harry le sonrió un poco vertiginosamente.—Entonces… —dijo Harry en una voz baja de deseo—. ¿Quieres llevar esto arriba?—No pierdes el tiempo, ¿verdad?Harry se puso rojo, y Louis rio. —Eso no fue una queja, por cierto —murmuró, acariciando la mejilla de Harry con su mano libre y besándolo de nuevo, haciendo que Harry se estremeciera agradablemente por dentro.—¿Vienes, entonces? —Harry sonrió contra los labios de Louis, sin querer romper el contacto físico por más tiempo del que tenía que hacerlo. Estaba caliente, y en ese momento estaba muy contento de dejar que su ingle tomara la decisión por él.El asentimiento de Louis era ligeramente nervioso. —¿Estás seguro de que tus padres no regresarán pronto? Con la suerte que he tenido últimamente no quiero que las noticias de mañana digan “guitarrista mediocre se mete en una casa para revolcarse con un adolescente”.Harry sonrió. —Oh, no seas tonto, nunca te llamarían mediocre.Louis alzó las manos, riendo. —Bien, me rindo, ¿estás seguro?Harry asintió con la cabeza. —Se han ido al cine, y estarán allí por años, además, me gusta el sonido de esa revolcada.Llevó a Louis hasta su habitación, tomándose un momento para estar agradecido de que no hubiera imprimido ninguna de las fotos de Louis que había guardado. Su habitación podría haber estado un poco más ordenada, pero al menos la cama estaba hecha y las sábanas razonablemente frescas.Se sentaron juntos en el edredón de rayas azules y blancas y reanudaron los besos. Después de un rato, Harry se quitó el jersey, sintiéndose ruborizado y pegajoso por el calor. Louis dejó que sus dedos se deslizaran bajo el dobladillo de la camiseta de Harry, acariciando su costado y haciéndole retorcerse contra él. Los dedos de Harry estaban descansando contra los botones de la camisa de Louis, sin atreverse a desnudarlo sin ser invitado.A estas alturas Harry estaba duro en sus pantalones, y trató de acomodarse de manera discreta. Parecía que sus pantalones eran tres tallas más pequeños, y su polla se presionaba dolorosamente contra su cremallera.Louis vio la acción y soltó una carcajada, extendiéndose para acunar el bulto creciente de Harry en su palma y apretar suavemente. —¿Te gusta esto? —se burló mientras Harry gimió ante el toque—. ¿Se siente bien? —Louis frotó lentamente a lo largo de la línea de la polla de Harry, trazando la forma de la misma con las yemas de los dedos.—Joder —jadeó Harry, esperando tener el suficiente auto-control para no correrse en sus pantalones. Miró a Louis y se alegró de ver que estaba tan excitado como él. Harry dejó que su mano se moviera hacia abajo para acariciar la erección de Louis a cambio, y se sintió satisfecho por la respiración aguda que le sacó.Tomando el control repentinamente, Louis agarró la camiseta de Harry y se la quitó por encima de la cabeza, desabrochando apresuradamente su propia camisa y bajándola por sus hombros. Tiró de Harry contra su pecho desnudo, besándolo con fuerza y dejando que sus manos vagaran ansiosamente por el torso desnudo de Harry.Harry gimió en su boca, prácticamente trepando en su regazo. Louis se dejó caer hacia atrás para que Harry estuviera tumbado encima de él, y colocó sus manos en el culo de Harry, tirando de él hasta que se empujaban superficialmente uno contra el otro en busca de mayor fricción.Después de unos minutos cada vez más frenéticos, Harry se sentó. —No es bueno, tengo que desnudarme —jadeó, buscando el botón y la cremallera. Sin aliento, Louis luchó hasta una posición sentada, y se desabrochó los pantalones, empujándolos por sus muslos.Harry miró la polla rígida de Louis, sintiendo su propio latido en respuesta, deseando hacer todo a la vez y sin saber por dónde empezar.—¿Harry? —Louis deslizó una mano a lo largo de su muslo, tanto tranquilizador como interrogante, ya que la expresión de Harry era casi de desconcierto.—Yo… quiero chuparte —Harry admitió en voz baja, enrojeciendo.Louis parpadeó. —No dejes que te detenga —sonrió, y Harry lanzó una mirada nerviosa hacia él.—No sé cómo —confesó Harry, sintiéndose estúpido.—No es muy difícil, para ser honesto.—¿Me enseñas? —susurró Harry, y Louis rio.—¿Enseñarte? Bien, sí —empujó a Harry contra la almohada y se inclinó sobre él.—No, me refería… —Harry perdió la habilidad para hablar mientras la boca de Louis se deslizaba sobre la cabeza de su polla. Harry sólo quería que Louis le dijera qué hacer, pero esto… esto era mil veces mejor. No que fuera capaz de concentrarse en la técnica de Louis porque las sensaciones estaban sobrecargando su habilidad para procesar algo más que la palabra joder, que se repetía dentro de su cabeza como un eco.Los labios de Louis subían y bajaban sobre su dureza, su lengua contenía una suave e insistente presión. Harry gruñó con impotencia mientras Louis lo chupaba, alejándose lo suficiente para sorber la cabeza antes de hundirse de nuevo, envolviendo a Harry en calor húmedo.La mano de Louis lo rodeó, y comenzó a masturbar a Harry al mismo ritmo de su boca. Era demasiado para Harry, y antes de poder detenerse se estaba corriendo fuerte, derramándose sobre la lengua de Louis hasta que se escurría de sus labios.—Uhh —Harry gruñó, avergonzado pero con una sensación de hormigueo mientras Louis se limpiaba las gotas de semen de su barbilla, ojos sonriéndole con diversión.—¿Primera vez? —preguntó Louis, Harry lucía avergonzado.—Sí… lo siento.Louis se acostó al lado de él. —No lo sientas. Como que me gusta.Harry le dio una sonrisa cursi. —Quiero hacerlo todo contigo —dijo—. Quiero que me enseñes todo.Louis se inclinó por un beso y luego se detuvo en el último segundo, inseguro de si Harry querría después de lo que acababa de hacer. Pero Harry cerró la brecha y lo besó firmemente, lamiendo su camino en la boca de Louis y envolviendo sus brazos alrededor de él.Al cabo de un rato, Harry se encogió en la cama hasta curvarse en el regazo de Louis. Lamiéndose los labios, tomó a Louis cuidadosamente en su boca, medio asustado de morderlo accidentalmente. Era difícil respirar con la polla de Louis llenando su boca, y difícil de coordinar lo que estaba tratando de hacer, pero Harry perseveró, alentado por los gemidos silenciosos que Louis le estaba dando, y la forma en que estaba empujando superficialmente entre los labios de Harry.Harry pasó un tiempo acostumbrándose a él, empezando a divertirse. Se imaginó que debía tener puntos por no ahogarse, incluso cuando la polla de Louis golpeó la parte posterior de su boca, y Louis parecía querer hacerlo más veces.Agarrando el edredón, Louis finalmente se levantó, y Harry dejó de su tarea, mirando hacia arriba inquieto, labios brillantes con saliva.Louis aferró su propia erección en la base, luchando contra el impulso de correrse sobre todo el pecho de Harry.—Te deseo —dijo Louis con voz ronca—. Joder, Harry, te deseo tanto.Harry asintió inmediatamente, quitándose completamente sus pantalones y ropa interior que aún se enredaban alrededor de sus espinillas con una velocidad que hizo reír a Louis.—Yo, um. ¿No tienes condones o algo? —Harry dijo torpemente.Louis se mordió el labio. —Sí —admitió, y los ojos de Harry se agrandaron.—¿Has venido aquí esperando…? —preguntó indignado.—Bueno, sí —Louis parecía avergonzado—. ¿Estás enojado?Harry le dio una palmada en la pierna y soltó una carcajada. —No, estoy agradecido, joder —estaba duro otra vez, y se recostó acariciándose mientras Louis localizaba su billetera y sacaba el artículo requerido.—No tengo lubricante —murmuró Louis mientras se lo ponía.—No me importa —Harry lo empujó contra él, envolviendo sus piernas alrededor de los muslos de Louis y moviéndose a una posición donde la erección de Louis se deslizara entre sus piernas.—Te lastimaré —le advirtió Louis, incapaz de evitar que acariciarse contra él, maravillado por la forma en que Harry estaba tan abierto a esto, tan ansioso.—No me importa —dijo Harry de nuevo—. Quiero que estés en mí, Lou, quiero sentirte, quiero sentirte después —Harry estaba sin aliento, mendigando ahora, y Louis apenas podía contenerse. Él escupió en su mano, y la sostuvo frente a él.—Escupe —ordenó y Harry hizo una cara.—Eww.Louis resopló. —¿Hace cinco minutos estabas lamiendo tu corrida de mi boca y de repente escupir es repugnante?—Eso es diferente —Harry esbozó una sonrisa burlona en la palma húmeda de Louis y sintió su polla palpitar con anticipación mientras Louis se recubría lo mejor que podía, antes de mover su mano entre las piernas de Harry y empujar uno y luego dos dedos resbaladizos dentro de él, penetrando y retorciéndolos hasta que Harry estaba jurando y suplicando a Louis que lo follara.Después de una preparación básica, Louis tomó su polla en su mano y se alineó contra el agujero húmedo de Harry, deslizándose en él tan lentamente como pudo, dándole tiempo a Harry para acostumbrarse a él. Era consciente de la tensión en el cuerpo de Harry, la forma en que su labio inferior estaba atrapado entre sus dientes, y comenzó a retirarse de nuevo, pero Harry agarró su brazo.—Fóllame, Louis, hazlo, lo quiero, te deseo, por favor —susurró Harry, con voz tensa y tirante.Louis cedió y se metió en él con una rapidez que hizo que Harry gritara.—Oh, Dios, Louis, joder. Sí —Harry arqueó la espalda, las piernas abiertas y la cabeza hacia atrás, mientras Louis empezaba a moverse, lentamente al principio, y luego más rápido mientras los gritos de Harry lo estimulaban. Lo penetraba profundo ahora, más duro de lo que había imaginado que se atrevería, y Harry lo estaba tomando, amándolo, temblando bajo la fuerza de los empujes de Louis y sacudiéndose al mismo tiempo, el puño trabajando en su polla hinchada con una urgencia que sugería que estaba cerca.—Louis, por favor, sí, mierda, ahí, sólo… ahí, yo… oh, Dios, yo… —la oleada de palabras de Harry se derrumbó en un gemido mientras él se corría por todas partes, líneas blancas manchando su pecho.Louis le dio una sonrisa feroz, demasiado ido para hablar, y segundos después él también gemía a través de su orgasmo, estremeciéndose contra el cuerpo de Harry mientras se corría.Cuando Louis se retiró cuidadosamente unos momentos después, Harry no logró ocultar la forma en que se estremeció.—Mierda, ¿estás bien? —Louis preguntó culpablemente, quitándose el condón y envolviéndolo en un pañuelo antes de dejarlo caer en la papelera.—Sí —los ojos de Harry brillaban de felicidad, y él extendió los brazos suplicante hasta que Louis se recostó y lo abrazó.—Te va a doler —dijo Louis disculpándose.—No me importa —Harry suspiró, acariciándole la mandíbula—. Valió la pena.Permanecieron allí un buen rato, besándose lentamente y con ternura, por fin se atrevieron a imaginar que esto podría ser realmente para siempre esta vez.Finalmente Harry miró el reloj e hizo una mueca. —Probablemente mis padres regresarán pronto, deberíamos vestirnos.—Oh, Dios, lo había olvidado —suspiró Louis. Todo lo que realmente quería hacer era acostarse allí con Harry y quizás quedarse dormido escondido cómodamente en la estrecha cama con él.Harry le dio un codazo en el costado. —A menos que quieras que mi mamá vea tu trasero desnudo.Louis salió de la cama y buscó los pantalones. —¿Esto significa que me estás echando esta vez?—No —Harry empezó a vestirse también—. Tienes dos opciones, puedes sentarte abajo y presentarte educadamente a mis padres cuando lleguen a casa.Louis hizo una mueca. —¿O?Harry sonrió. —O puedes llevarnos a los dos a tu casa y terminar de revolcarte conmigo. Fin.
10756422	Please Dont Leave Me	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Noctis Lucis Caelum, Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum, Gladiolus Amicitia", "Fandom": "Final Fantasy XV", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by Bakayamadachan", "chapters": "4/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-29T00:00:00", "words": "2,923", "Additional Tags": "Oooo boi, this is gonna be a long one, i think, IgNoct, No smut today folks~, JUST ANGST AND FLUFG AND WJDJEIWU", "Relationship": "Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The guys have been on the road for quite some time now, they haven't come across any havens, towns, or caravans which was very strange to them. And so they were all very exhausted, especially Ignis, but he had too much pride to show it, even though he had done most of the driving. “Hey Iggy, why don't you let me drive for a bit? You've been driving for two days now.” “I am fine, Prompto. I believe we will get to our destination much safer if you of all people don't drive.” "W-what do you mean by that?!" A flick to the back of Prompto's head cut off their conversation because it caused him to yelp out. "Ow! Gladio, what the hell!" He turned around to glare at Gladiolus, "what was that for?!" "Heh, and you wonder why Iggy won't let you drive." "Shut up- uwah!" Prompto nearly fell back but held onto the seat tightly and turned around after the regalia came to a halt. "Igniiisssssss!" He whined as he glanced at Ignis with pouty eyes, not noticing the strange purple object that appeared before them. Everyone except for Prompto got out of the regalia to check out this object," Hey! Where are you guys goi- WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!" he jumped out of the car, nearly falling flat on his face. He walked to behind Gladiolus, shielding himself in case this foreign object did something strange. Noctis was getting a little too close to it so Ignis pulled him back to behind him, guarding him as always. "Ignis? What is that?" "I'm not sure, but you need to stay back, we're unsure of what this thing will do," the thing began to morph, startling them. "Highness, get back!" Ignis pushed Noctis back, causing him to fall onto the roof of the engine of the regalia. After morphing, the object then reflected them, looking like some kind of mirror. Gladiolus picked up a round pebble and threw it at the reflection, the object quickly morphed the reflection into a whole new setting, letting the rock enter it. “A portal maybe?” Prompto gently pushed on Gladiolus, “you first, big guy.” “And why the hell do I have to go in?” “Well.. You’re way bigger and stronger, duh!”“Tsk, wuss..” Gladiolus waved his hand around in this so-called portal, soon pulling his sword out for safety reasons in case anything were to happen, “doesn’t seem like anything is going on so far-” Prompto pushed him in and jumped in as well, checking around him in awe. “Wow, this is totally like some kind of paradise, you guys should come check it out-” The portal closed up between the four, splitting them up into pairs. Noctis widened his eyes and reached out to where the portal once was, having this expression mixed between shock and bewilderment, “Where are they? What the hell happened?!” “Noctis, we need to leave immediately,” Ignis reached for Noctis’ arm and pulled him to the regalia, pushing him onto his side of the vehicle and quickly got into his own seat, “hold on, Noct..” He started up the engine and revved it up, pushing his foot onto the gas as iron giants appeared behind them, focusing on getting away quickly. “I had a feeling that this was a trap, I had not expected Gladio and Prompto to do that, if I knew they would, I would not have stopped driving.” Noctis took a look in the sideview mirror, counting the amount of iron giants there were, at least 4.. So many for just one portal. “Do you think they’re-” “I believe that they will be just fine, I know that they can take care of themselves which is why I am not concerned for their well-beings as of this moment, but I am to take care of you right now.” Noctis looked down at his lap and sighed lightly, wondering how the other two are coming along currently, and whether they’re fighting several daemons or if they are safe. A warm, gloveless hand reached for his own and massaged a small area with the thumb, “Noctis, they will be alright, I promise you,” Noctis placed his other hand on top of Ignis’ and squeezed it, needing reassurance because of his fear of losing two close friends. After about a half an hour of speeding, Ignis began to slow the regalia down because he could finally see a town in the distance! The prince was curled up in his seat, not paying attention to where they were headed, the whole time he stayed wide awake and was unable to sleep because of how fast Ignis was driving. “Noctis.” “Hm?” Noctis lifted his head to look at Ignis, where they are now. “We’re here,” the other gave his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away to turn the ignition off. “Where are we?” He looked out the window, seeing a store, a caravan, and a dining area, this was totally a new town. They got out of the regalia and stretched for a couple of minutes before heading into the store and paying for a couple of nights in the caravan. They also thought to stock up on potions, recipe ingredients for Ignis, and new fishing equipment for Noctis. After buying all that was needed, they headed into the caravan for the night. “So tired..” Noctis yawned as he plopped down on the one futon that was in there, Ignis sat down beside him and slid his glasses off his nose to clean them, bags from the lack of sleep underneath his eyes. Noctis sat up and leaned his head on his shoulder, “Ignis.” “Yes?” “Sleep with me.” “Pardon me?” “You’re tired, I’m tired, so let’s just sleep together on this damn thing,” he pulled on his advisor, urging him to lay down with him, “please..” “I have no other choice, do I?” Ignis let Noctis push him down onto his back and curl up on top of him. He wrapped an arm around Noctis’ waist and stared up at the ceiling, listening to his soft breathing. Figuring that the prince had fallen asleep by now because of his breathing, he closed his eyes and sleep quickly took over him. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Where the hell am I?” Noctis tried to look around in his dark surroundings but struggled with trying to see anything, he did remember falling asleep, but he did not remember ever waking up yet, nor coming to such a dark place that was sending him a bad vibe. “Ignis?” He called out for his advisor, hoping to get a response. But there was nothing but silence that met his call. “Prompto? Gladio?” He began to walk forward, not exactly sure on where he’s headed but he needed to find somebody, even if he couldn’t see a damn thing. “Ignis!” He shouted a bit louder this time, and after he did so, a faded light flickered in the distance. He ran to that small light and as the size of it grew, his surroundings began to slowly reveal itself to him, after seeing the one thing that was everywhere, he had wished that everything stayed dark.. So much blood, whose blood could it have been though? Was there a massacre here? As he got closer, there was a dead behemoth lying on the ground, a couple of strips of cloth followed it and.. Ignis?! His eyes widened at the sight of his friend, “Ignis!” He ran to Ignis’ side and gently shook him. “Ignis, answer me!” Ignis was covered in his own blood, his clothing had been shredded, meaning that the behemoth got him pretty good. Noctis looked up to check out his face but stopped at his throat, it had practically been torn out.Why Ignis? What did he ever do to deserve this? How come he never found out about Ignis until it was too late?“Not you.. Please, Ignis.” He placed his trembling hand on Ignis’ face as tears began to slide down his cheeks. “Don’t leave me, I ne- I need you Ignis..” He pulled him against his chest and wrapped both of his arms around him tightly, his body soon wracked with sobs. “Noctis.”“Ignis..”“Noctis!” He felt a hand gently place itself on his cheek and the voice that repeated his name was very familiar, as if it sounded like it was coming from- Noctis opened his eyes and there was Ignis’ face above his, they’re on the bed of the caravan they rented out for a couple of nights, “Oh Ignis..” He hugged Ignis tightly and hid his face in his neck, relieved that he was alright with no scratches on him. “Noctis, are you alright?”“Y-yea, why?” “You were saying my name over and over again..” Ignis wrapped an arm around Noctis’ waist and thought about how he cried during his slumber but decided against mentioning it as he wiped his tears away.“D-did I do anything else?” “No,” Ignis was about to pull away from Noctis but the arms around him tightened their hold. “No, don’t.. Don’t leave me, please..” “Noctis,” he pulled on the prince’s arms to loosen his grip then tilted his chin up so he could look at him. “I am not going anywhere, I am staying by your side until the day I die, I will never leave you, you should know this.”“I do! It’s just that.. I need you close to me right now.” “As you wish.” Ignis pried Noctis’ arms off of him and shushed his protests so he could get into a more comfortable position. After adjusting, he motioned for Noctis to come closer, and so he crawled onto his lap and leaned his face up against his neck.“Iggy?”“Yes?” “I- thank you.”“What are you thanking me for?” “You’re always there for me and always have been, e-even though I-”“Hush, darling.. You do not need to thank me for that,” Ignis placed his chin on top of Noctis’ head and rubbed his back to soothe him. “I am not only here to serve you, but I care about you dearly and wish no harm upon you whatsoever.” Noctis buried his face in his neck and slowly fell asleep again because of the warmth and reassurance that Ignis is alright.Ignis laid his head back against the wall and let out a drawn out sigh, “Oh Noct, what am I going to do with you?” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- "How many potions are in the bag?" Ignis asked as he began refueling the regalia."Uh-" Noctis rummaged through the bag and counted the amount of potions, "t-twenty.. five.""That is quite plenty for now," He placed the gas pump into its slot and slid into the driver's seat, glancing at Noctis to make sure everything is ready. "Sit back, Noct.""I know, I know, I was doing something," Noctis set the bag down by his feet and sat back, letting out a sigh, " 's cold.""It is a bit chilly out, isn't it?" Ignis turned the heater on and started up the engine."It's so quiet without Prompto and Gladio..""Indeed." Noctis slowly reached his hand over to Ignis' leg and placed it there."You better not leave me as well, I... I need you the most, Ignis.""That.. makes me glad to hear, especially if it comes from you, I could never dream of leaving you, Noct." He intertwined their fingers and smiled when Noctis laid his head on his shoulder. "You seem to want to be extra close to me, is something the matter?""No.. I just- I like being close to you like this in situations like this, makes me feel better." He rubbed his face against his shoulder and closed his eyes, "Ignis-" He mumbled into his arm and tightened his grip on his hand.Ignis absolutely adored Noctis, especially when he's like this. He just wanted to hold him close and kiss him, and-- but he could never be able to do so, he is his advisor after all.He wondered how far the next town would be and considered heading to Lestallum, knowing that their will be guaranteed there. Would Prompto and Gladio be there as well? Several questions ran through his mind as he drove to the safest city they knew. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Noctis,” Ignis gently shook Noctis’ shoulder to wake him up, “We have arrived in Lestallum.” The prince remained sound asleep, adjusting his position slightly as he slept away. Ignis let out a sigh then pulled Noctis out of his seat and hoisted him up in his arms, smiling when the prince snuggled into his chest. He carried Noctis to a nearby hotel and bought one room for a couple of nights then carried him to their room and laid him on the bed, soon pulling the blanket over him. He kissed his forehead then sat down on the chair beside the bed and began texting Prompto to see if him and Gladio are alright. “Ignis..” Ignis turned his head to look at Noctis who was whimpering in his sleep. “Noctis?” He slid his phone into his pocket and reached his hand out to Noctis’ shoulder, flinching when the prince shot up in the bed to a sitting position. “Ignis!” “Noct!” Ignis jumped out of the chair and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him tight against his chest and stroked his hair, “It’s alright Noct, I am right here..” “Y-you’re not hurt, are you..?” Noctis moved his hands around Ignis’ body, still in sort of a daze from his dream, “Where does it-” “I’m not hurt at all, did you have another nightmare?” Noctis stayed quiet but nodded his head, burying his face in Ignis’ neck. “Are you sure you’re-” “Yes. I promise I’m fine,” He closed his eyes and rubbed his back to help soothe his nerves, after feeling the prince’s breathing slow down, Ignis adjusted the view of his angle so he could get a better look at Noctis’ face and the other noticed him moving, so he looked up and their eyes met. They stayed like this for a minute before Noctis slightly moved forward, causing their foreheads to touch. He opened his mouth to say something to the other since he felt a little awkward after staring for what seemed like forever and averted his gaze. Ignis was tempted to kiss Noctis but quickly pulled back to prevent himself from doing it, “Are you alright?” “Y-yea, why?” Noctis adjusted on his lap and looked down. “Just curious.. I should be getting up soon.” “But, I like this..” “Well.. I need to buy meals to last us a few nights, maybe we can continue.. Whatever this is when we come back.” Noctis let out a sigh and climbed off of his lap, “I’ll come with you, I’m not letting you leave me here.” “I wouldn’t dream of it.” They both climbed out of the bed and Noctis followed Ignis out of the room, staying close to him, so close that he feels his body heat. He did feel a little paranoid after all. After getting to the area with all of the small stores, Noctis grabbed Ignis’ hand and held on tightly, afraid of losing him. Ignis looked down at their hands and a small smile came upon his face, he squeezed his hand gently and led him to a shop with unique ingredients. “Noctis, are you craving anything for tonight?” “Not.. really, keep my diet in mind though-” Ignis shook his head and sighed before grabbing a bag and placing ingredients into it with the help of Noctis’ free hand since he refused to let go of the other. He slowly pulled away from the prince’s hand, but it didn’t go far when it was quickly caught. “Noctis..” He leaned towards Noctis who seemed anxious, “I’m right here, I am not going to leave your side for one second, alright?” Noctis slowly nodded and hesitantly let go of his jacket, “O-okay, but uh.. If you do, don’t be surprised if I kick your ass.” “Heh, of course.” He patted the prince’s shoulder and chuckled before checking out the next shop to see what they all have as Noctis checked out questionable items. After checking all the items out, Ignis glanced over and noticed Noctis walking away, where in the world is he going? “Noctis?” The advisor followed after him, calling out a couple of times to him to get his attention, which strangely wasn’t working. Is he playing a game with him? After seeing something very disturbing, Noctis shuddered and lifted his head to look at Ignis, “Hey Ignis- Ignis?” He heard no response from the advisor so he turned around and saw him walking, “Ignis, what-” He let out a frustrated sigh and stomped after him. How dare he walk off without him? He promised he would stay beside him! “Ignis!” He began to run after him when Ignis turned a corner then began rolling down what seems like a hill. A.. grassy hill. After he got to the bottom, he began dry heaving as he kneeled over, that long roll made him very nauseous. As soon as he was able to fix his composure, he got to his feet and looked around, “Ignis!” He cupped his hands over his mouth to project his shout to the older man, he shouted his name a couple more times before dropping his hands to his sides and giving up. He.. was no longer in Lestallum.
10700403	Desire	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": null, "Fandom": "Priest (Swedish Band)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by VenusBrutalis", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-22T00:00:00", "words": "1,582", "Additional Tags": "Bondage, BDSM, Consensual, Bloodplay", "Relationship": null, "Character": "Puppet Master - Character", "Relationships": null, "Series": "Metamorphosis", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	«You, the one who pulls the strings, what do you desire?» The air was heavy and filled with unspoken requests, in this damp underground scene. Around us people danced in unison, creating a pulsating mass of flesh; suffocating, encapsulating. I had showed the person in the spiked mask, whom also appeared to impersonate a priest, the black card. The black card indicated my interest, and consent, and he gladly accepted it. Well, it was hard to tell what his exact emotions were, to be honest, but now we found ourselves in the beginning of what would hopefully be a perverted encounter. The heavy beats of the music emulated those of a heart, a steady and relentless beat that kept us all alive. And what a place to be alive, surrounded by leather and latex, sweat and saliva. My object of desire leaned in, pulling me closer, the spikes gracing my cheek as he whispered his exact desires to me. What a place to be alive, indeed.He lead me towards a door, gave it a knock, and was asked for a password. The loud music made it hard to hear, but I could have sworn it was «Gollum». Once on the other side, we found ourselves in what resembled a lobby, where my suitor asked for the keys to room 412. There was nothing romantic nor inviting about this industrial complex, but tonight was about pure, unfiltered lust. He held the door open for me, but I had only taken a few steps into the room, when I felt him behind me, pulling my hair aside, slowly kissing the nape of my neck. «Submit yourself to me, fully…» his voice spoke, softly. With a firm grip on my waist he got even closer to me, his kisses now laden with small, sharp bites. «Submit, and I will make you weep. Submit, and you will not be able to distinguish pain from pleasure; everything will be intertwined, you’ll be mine, and I’ll be yours. Submit, and we can become one. Submit, and become truly free…» He wrapped my hair around his fist and forced my head back, his other hand gently caressing my cheek. «Allow me to become your master, allow me to experience you exposed and vulnerable, and know that just one word from your wanting lips is enough to release your from all of this, if you wish…» I couldn’t hide my sly smile, as he awaited my reply. I pretended to hesitate, coyly, but my sly smile let out the words «So be it»The deviant gentleman stepped away from me, inspecting my attire. «Remove your dress, please», he commanded. Once I had completed my task, he beckoned me over, with a gesture of his finger. He cupped my face in his hands, gave me a light kiss on the lips, and shoved me down on the floor. With impressive precision, he had me on my back, arms pinned to the side. His strong legs kept my arms in place as he straddled me, pressing two fingers inside my mouth. I caressed them with my tongue, and soon realised these weren’t the only pair of lips he intended to finger. He rubbed his hand vigorously over my mons veneris, making me squirm underneath him. I felt him pull the underwear aside, and moaned as he slipped two fingers between my wet lips, teasing the sensitive opening. The fingering continued, his two slender digits now penetrating me, gliding slowly in and out of me. I received them willingly. I closed my eyes in and tilted my head back, giving in to sin. His fingers left my mouth, and I heard the sound of a zipper. My mouth didn’t stay vacant for long, as he led his throbbing member towards my warm lips. I latched on to it, caressing the tip as my tongue swirled around the top of the shaft. The fingering became more and more unhinged as he pressed his cock deeper into my mouth, forcing me to concentrate on breathing properly. I opened my eyes and met his gaze. I shivered as I noticed something was off with one of his eyes, but in this fevered state, my sight was almost blurred. The red glow, in this dark room. I must have imagined it.Abruptly he pulled himself out of my mouth, and situated himself further down on me, after freeing my hands. He held them in his, as if he was unsure of what to do. It didn’t last long, however, as he reached for something near us; a rope. My hands were bound together tightly by the wrists, and again my anonymous lover reached for something. I felt my heart skip a beat as he pulled on the spiked gloves, he pulled them on slowly, while looking at me. A grin appeared on his masked face, or at least the teeth were now exposed in what I could only assume was a smile. The red glow grew stronger. He climbed off me, and got between my legs, prying them open. My underwear was ripped off by a force undoubtedly moved by primal urges, and with his spiked gloved hands placed under my buttocks, he lifted my hips against his face. The spikes sank into the soft flesh without rupturing the skin. For now, at least. I shivered as he placed his tongue over my lips, just pressing it in its entirety against them. He squeezed my buttocks, forcing me to move closer to his mouth, and he began to move his tongue in an exaggerated manner, delivering lashes of licks again and again. I started to grind against his tongue, and locking his head between my legs. The spikes on his mask were noticeable, but at this moment all I cared about was my own pleasure. His lips puckered around my clit, and I kept grinding. I barely noticed the small drops of crimson that appeared on my inner thighs. I was close now, but he stopped. He spread my legs again, and noticed the puncture wounds. I felt my heart pound at an elevated rate, my entire body ready to receive the sweet release of a climax, but I was denied.I watched him lick the blood away, kissing every small dent. He got up on his knees, and I noticed the dark hair surrounding his erect member. For the first time I felt curious; I wanted see more of his flesh, more of him. But not tonight, tonight he was my masked fucker, my secretive master. I saw him place a hand around his cock, as he lead it towards my soaked slit. We both moaned as it penetrated me, excruciatingly slowly. My legs were placed over his shoulders as he went deeper inside of me, and he held them in place with one hand, as the other reached for my chest. He pulled the fabric of the bra aside, exposing my nipple to his gloved fingers. The spikes threatened to leave more marks on me, much to his pleasure, as he now bent down on top of me, his hands pressing all over me. My hands were still tied, and I felt suffocated beneath his frame, but not once did I want him to stop. Instead I used this to my advantage, and found myself able to stimulate my clit against his coarse pubic hair. Two hands were now around my neck, spiked thumbs against my throat. His fucking was now almost completely unhinged, his only focus was to achieve the purest of pleasure. The red glow was so apparent now, so bright. I tensed up, as an almost violent urge grew inside of me, driving me towards an orgasm. I saw the sweat drip out of his mask, and a salty drop landed on my lips. I tasted it, even though swallowing was almost impossible in his chokehold. I heard his voice now, faint at first, chanting. «Come, come, come, come…» My willpower was no more, and I came, feeling the intense rush flow through my body.Maybe it was sweat running down my chest, or rather, maybe it was just sweat, but the spikes must have done their job. He let go of my throat, admiring his craft. His hands buried themselves in my hair as he fucked me, clinging to me like a second skin. A guttural groan emerged from deep within him as he came, a sound so eerie I must have imagined it. I was still bound beneath him, but he wasn’t finished yet. He began to clean my throat, tasting the drops of maroon, mixed with sweat. I was untied, but he insisted that I remained in his embrace, while his hands began to mark as much of me as they could. I could only watch as he pressed the spikes against my skin, not necessarily making me bleed, but enough to leave a trace. There was a tenderness in all of this, to ensure I felt taken care of. There was no malice in any of his actions, just a ritual of trust between two souls on the same path. What we had shared was ours, and ours alone. But as I was about to leave, a sudden sense of something unknown came upon me, and I turned around. I saw the red glow coming from his eye so clearly now, and I knew there was no way to quell his desire. This was just the beginning.
10704786	The True Meanings of a	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Akabane Karma, Shiota Nagisa, Isogai Yuuma, Maehara Hiroto, Okuda Manami, Nakamura Rio, prolly more", "Fandom": "Assassination Classroom", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by VacantCanadian", "chapters": "5/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-23T00:00:00", "words": "7,015", "Additional Tags": "here we go again, its these two, i hardly know whats going on, and im the one writing it, rip my readers ooops, karmagisa - Freeform, KARUNAGI, art student Karma, art model(??) nagisa, this'll be fun, and by fun i mean absolute hell, probably ooc nagisa oops again, Dorks that Cant Communicate their Feelings, Fluff, useless fluff, smut?????, wallflower karma???, i cant flirt so neither can my characters, I'm never been to college but im gonna try in vain to write college age characters, A WILD RIDE", "Relationship": "Akabane Karma/Shiota Nagisa", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Karma had never quite known how to feel when news of Nagisa Shiota came up in the media. They had met fleetingly in their first years in Class B, but Karma had moved up to Class A quickly, so their enaction was limited. From what he knew, Nagisa seemed like a kind boy: Timid, intelligent, good-humoured and good-natured; It was calming just to be in his presence. Karma briefly remember that, once, they had gone to the movies together, to see an action film that they had both highly anticipated the release of. It wasn’t anything romantic, but the redhead could still faintly recall wanting to hold the other’s hand. He now deduced that urge down to the first signs of his being gay. He had been in middle school, and he had been with another boy; Of course he had felt tempted to get more intimate. While he was in Class A, he had heard rumors of Shiota being transferred to 3-E, and while he certainly pitied his old acquaintance-Entering Class E was social suicide- He felt that the smaller boy would be able to hold his own as a student of the infamous classroom. Although Nagisa’s personality hinted at frailness, something about his demeanor felt tough, and at times, intimidating. Though the blue-haired boy’s head was down when they passed in the street, Karma sensed a strength in his person that glowed through him; Something he couldn’t describe, but only feel . Nagisa felt stronger, Nagisa felt more daring, as if his new environment had hardened him rather than break him. So when Karma heard the breaking news, he wasn’t entirely taken aback. The redhead might have suffered the same fate, what with his tendencies for random fighting and his scattered suspensions, but he had tethers of reason that kept him from collapsing into his own manic compulsions. Firstly, he was sly, which was something he had learned over time, but nevertheless kept him from engaging in fights where he knew he would get caught in the act. He hated watching his classmates bully frightened students from further down classes, and his mind called him coward when he didn’t immediately act on his urges and slam the valedictorian into a wall, but he forced himself to step away until he could get the student alone and help them separately. It was torture, putting himself before his morales, especially when teachers praised him for waiting until a student was seriously hurt to interfere, but he kept on out of a combination of fear of his authorities and for his future. The second voice of reason in his mind was his art. He knew his dad was going to loathe finally coming home to a gay son that wanted a future in drawing, but he also knew that at if he kept improving, he could get into an art college by himself and he wouldn't have to worry what his parents thought at all. Art had started out as a casual hobby and a tactic to relieve stress for him, but he had become increasingly serious at it as he continued to practice, and now, when the urge to go out and tear someone to shreds was particularly strong, he would spend hours upon hours cooped up in his room, working away at a large sketchbook with a small stick of charcoal that he had reduced to a nub (his favorite medium since he was at least twelve). His art teacher, though still not a great person in Karma’s opinion, showered him with praise and was his favorite teacher. She, at the least, encouraged him instead of taunting him when he chose spending an hour correct the lighting on a sketch opposed to going out drinking. Karma’s initial plan for his life had been to work at a large company like his dad’s, but as he grew older, he began to realize how much he despised and dreaded the stress of classic academics and group work, despite his talent for the subjects. Working in an office would drive him to madness. Graduating middle school was a welcome relief, but the sudden explosion of drama after graduation prevented him from getting to fully enjoy a bit of it. No kid in Kunugigaoka could go an hour without hearing about the daring assassination scandal that the government had planted right in their own junior high, and kids from class E couldn’t seem to escape the prying eye of the media, sometimes bursting into tears during run ins. Karma hardly even believed the disfiguration of the moon in the year’s beginning; Stories of an octopus-like humanoid (he had heard that the creature teaching class E was a human experiment) hardly even registered, and he tried to avoid the subject of such claims as if they were the plague, but it was nearly impossible. Nagisa’s face was the one most commonly on magazine covers and the television screen, supposedly because he had been the one to finally finish off the teacher. At first he was extremely gracious with the media, sitting down to tell the story of “Korosensei” at the media’s request several times, and smiling politely for photos even though he was obviously uncomfortable with the attention. After a month had oozed by and reporters were still pestering him for information, he became more and more withdrawn and stand-offish, clearly agonized at the idea of having to be a celebrity. He was civil to reporters but firm in his refusal for any interaction with them; Karma had to admire the way in which he handled himself in the face of such annoyance. If the redhead was in his place, the fifth person to come up him after the incident would’ve received a sharp blow in the jaw. The topic of the Class 3-E’s teacher seemed like such a touchy subject for the students; bringing it up to them was like rubbing salt in an open wound. And although he had never publicly broken down like many of his classmates, Nagisa seemed to be the most damaged by the experience. The business of the Assassination Classroom slowly quieting down until mid July, when Hiromi Shiota, Nagisa’s mother, was arrested on her son’s birthday. According to witness, there was a loud commotion in the apartment where both mother and son lived, involving lots of slamming and screaming. Those who had come out at the loud noises then saw Nagisa bolt out of the front door as if he was running for his life, and after a few moments, his mother came streaking after him. It was pouring rain, so no one could tell for absolute sure, but some witnesses believe they heard shrieks from the mother about a dress and murder. Nagisa showed up at the police station with a large gash in his head, short of breath from both sprinting and crying. He told the police that his mother had hurt him and had been doing such for about a year or two’s time, although this incident had turned more violent than was usual. Mrs. Shiota was caught and arrested, screaming bloody murder and cursing her son’ as she was dragged away by law authority. For a brief moment both were in the police station together (although Hiromi was restrained) and loud arguing ensued, including Nagisa and his mother crying and swearing without abandon at each other. It was at this moment that the media decided to make an appearance. It was at that moment that Nagisa’s already-frail tolerance for the reporters completely shattered. Unhinged, he began to wave them off wildly, alternating between screaming at them and his mother. The police ended up having to remove the traumatized boy from the chaotic scene before taking his mother into custody. Hiromi’s trial lasted another month; Everyone in town was sick of it after two days. This seemed to include Nagisa more than anyone, who seemed more eager to have his mother gone than to publicly shame her for the abuse she had enacted on him. He issued a somewhat light apology to the media for his rudeness that night and explained that, as one might guess, he was under a great deal of stress at the time, and although it was obvious that he still held a grudge (not that such wasn’t justifiable), the reporters seemed to accept it gladly. After all, they were still busy having a field day with the town’s old savior’s tragic backstory and trauma: they couldn’t afford to be bitter with the obvious victim of the situation. Eventually, the case ended and Hiromi was given a lengthy sentence and was restricted from custody over her son. Nagisa reportedly went to live with his father on the opposite side of town, and Karma falsely began to believe that the town was finally finished exploiting Nagisa Shiota’s personal life for money. But what the blue-haired boy did next was practically an invitation for the tabloids to write about him. Karma hadn’t been a freshman for even a week before the news got around: Nagisa had been found in a gay bar in the sketchy side of town, fully involving himself with some sophomore boy. Eyewitness said he looked pretty drunk and was making out with his companion like his life depended on it, only laughing when people tried to take pictures. The tabloids were raring to go by the time morning came, and so the era of Nagisa the Hero turned Wild Child began. For all of his high school years, Nagisa dwelled in a constant state of intoxication and lust, constantly being found clinging to someone, the gender never consistent, or laughing and dancing up a storm in a club of some sort with a wind cooler in his hand. Friends said he would show up to first period sometimes with a smoky eye and winged eyeliner, or would leave school grounds at the end of the day with a bag over his shoulder that everyone knew contained his more daring nightwear. Pictures of him smiling in miniskirts and tight jeans peppered every teen magazine, but the blue-haired boy no longer seemed bothered by the attention. When drunk, he would giggle and playfully flip off cameras as he wrapped his other arm around somebody’s waist. To put it simply, he was a fucking wreck. But apparently he did decently in school and didn’t cause much trouble with teachers, because Karma soundly graduated high school without hearing a peep of his notorious peer flunking out, or even having to retake a year. God knew how he did it; not that Karma cared. Nagisa’s business was not his business: whether or not his old acquaintance graduated high school was of little concern to the redhead. He had plenty to worry about in his own life without sticking his nose in other’s private lives, never mind that such was unethical anyhow. And either way, Nagisa’s reckless behavior slowly tapered out in his senior year. Amazingly, even crazed child starlets needed to focus in class in order to get into college. Shiota’s behavior, in Karma’s opinion, was childish and laughable.But at least the blue-haired boy could tell when it was time to get serious. And now Karma was here, staring pensively at the doorway to his dormitory as it if was a complex physics problem instead of a tiny space with one window and two identical sets of twin beds and desks. His new roommate sat calmly on his bed, doing something on his phone. His name was Yuuma Isogai, who was (just his luck) another kid from the famous Class E. But they had talked a bit and the redhead had decided that there were definitely worse people in this world to share a dorm with. He was intelligent, modest, generally quiet, and had a classy demeanor and a likeable boyfriend (Honestly, having a non-homophobic roommate was a score in itself), and Akabane could admittedly see himself getting along well with the other boy. Hiroto Maehara, Isogai’s boyfriend, was in the same building with them and although his unceasing prattle was a little irritating after half an hour, as well as his ridiculously cliche couple antics with Yuuma, he wouldn’t have to see the tangerine-haired boy so much that such would become unbearable. For the somewhat-prestigious college he had registered to, he had done pretty well. And he’d certainly choose Class E kids any day over some of the self-righteous snobs he had to deal with in Class A. Many of them had headed off to top colleges on the other side of Japan, and it was Good Riddance. Cautiously, the redhead dragged his suitcase into the room and began to unpack his things. He set his linens carefully on the bed and began to sort his clothes into different drawers. Isogai looked up momentarily from his phone and pursed his lips. Karma glanced back at him. “Something wrong?” He deadpanned. Yuuma hesitated. “No. You just look familiar.” He brushed a lock of ashy hair out of his eyes. “I already told you, I was a student at Kunugigaoka with you; That’s probably why you remember me.” “No, I don’t think that’s it…” Isogai squinted at his roommate. “Ah, whatever. Guess it doesn’t matter. So, what’s your major?” The redhead lifted his large sketchbook out of his suitcase, opened it up to a random drawing, and flashed it briefly at Yuuma before setting it on his desk. “Oh! Interesting, I wouldn't have pinned you as an artist.” “A lot of people wouldn’t’ve. And they’d be right. I’m just an art major right now.” “Hah, I guess you’re right. But still, maybe the earring should’ve tipped me off.” A self-conscious hand went to Karma’s right ear automatically, where a climber earring in the shape of a serpent writhed along the outer part of his ear, but he pulled it away in a quick burst of willpower. He had gotten his ears pierced in his second year, in a sudden high of rebellion. He didn’t regret his actions, but it was still somewhat embarrassing when people brought them up. “Maybe.” He shrugged and continued to put things on his desk. After both boys had organized their sides of the dorm, a lively dinner in the dining hall and and something of a small orientation speech ensued. Karma climbed into bed that night feeling a tad unsure of himself, but oddly comforted, as if he were home for the first time. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Akabane had been in classes for about three weeks and everything had been going rather smoothly. At first he had fretted about the workload and the demanding concepts, but while his homework load at the end of the night definitely wasn’t ideal, it wasn’t completely overwhelming either. His art teacher was a joy, as embarrassing as it was for Karma to admit: He always felt a tad ashamed when he liked a teacher for some unidentifiable reason, like an elementary schooler having to confess to his friends that he had enjoyed the homework. But his professor was quick-witted and highly knowledgeable as well as entertaining, and every time she used his work as an example he glowed with pride.Today he ambled into class and plopped down on a stool close to the desk, smiling softly to himself as he twirled a pencil in his hands.“Having a good day?” His professor chuckled at his expression and he flashed a trademark smirk.“Well, yeah-You said we were gonna move on to a different aspect of still lives today, right?” He laughed. They had been working on the correct use of color and tone for the past few days, and while no part of traditional art was truly unpleasant to him, coloring and balancing color had never been his favorite. He was glad to move on.“Yes, we are moving on. And we’ll be using charcoals, so I think you’ll have fun, assuming you nor anyone else in class becomes-Disruptive.” Karma’s smirk turned to a genuine beam at the mention of his preferred medium. It wasn’t by any means a professional art tool, so only God knew why he enjoyed using it so, but something about the feeling of the roughly-textured stick of charcoal moving against lightweight paper set him at ease, like the only thing that mattered was capturing the curves and angles of his subjects on the canvas. Besides, an imperfect medium often meant more focus on skill itself, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if the class spent the whole period drawing. That in itself would be a dream. “Sounds fun,” The student told his teacher as his classmates began to slowly file into the room, some holding cups of coffee and yawning loudly as if it wasn’t already eleven thirty in the afternoon. Karma shrugged to himself as he pulled out a sketchbook and began to doodle mindlessly. They had probably stayed up all night trying to finish a last-minute paper or something. College.“Hello, class!” The professor exclaimed brightly to her studio full of students. A few gave a half-hearted reply. Unfazed, she continued: “Alright, today we begin a new unit, and although some of you may not like it, I’m sure you’ll all benefit from it-” A collection of groans ensued, as if they knew what lay ahead.”-Today we’re going to move on the subject of perspectives and lighting; We’ll be kicking that off with a week of anatomy practice.” Karma’s head rose from his sketchbook in interest: He had very little practice with human anatomy, as he liked to draw from reference, and he never really could ask anyone to be his subject. The closest thing he had drawn to a realistic figure of a person were messy sketches of his left hand and small positioning practices without any details. Despite such, he was eager to gain more experience in an area in which he lacked.“We actually have been blessed with good fortune for the beginning of this unit, so we’ll be heading to the auditorium shortly to practice drawing some students who have graciously volunteered their free period every day this week to change out of their clothes and come sit in the same position for two to three hours just so that we can sketch them. I trust you’ll all be very polite to them in return for offering to help us out.” A cautious hand went into the air. “Yes, Mrs. Fuwa?”“Um, I know we’re working on lighting, but, it’s not gonna be, like...Nude drawings, right?” Half the class laughed, and the tiny girl speaking flushed. “I just mean-They’re not gonna be totally naked or anything, right?”The professor chuckled softly. “No, Fuwa, there will be no extremities out in the open; No need to worry about such. They’ll be showing skin, but just enough so that you can get a good concept of the texture of skin and proportions of the body.”Fuwa let out a small sigh of relief, and Karma laughed softly to himself. He’d probably go straight for the bustiest female in the room, just to fuck with people. He always got a kick out of watching straight guys solve the world’s most complicated equations in their head as they tried to understand how he could talk to extremely attractive girls so easily.The class made their way across the campus to the auditorium with their hefty sketchbooks in hand, some grumbling about having to practice their least favorite aspect of art while others chattered excitedly with their friends about the prospect. They walked into the auditorium to find their models all draped in simple dark linens and ready to be drawn. Karma’s eyes immediately locked onto a soft, busty girl on the far right of the stage, sitting somewhat shyly with her legs bunched up next to her torso. His teacher set them loose and he walked briskly and determinedly towards her, trying not to make eye contact with anyone else (particularly any male models: He could handle a half-naked girl, but the guys made him slightly uncomfortable, at the least).He approached the female model, sat down on the stage a few feet away from her, opened his sketchbook and began to sketch her figure. A few minutes ticked by and he noticed that quite a few girls had started to sit on his left to draw the person next to his subject, which made him focus his eyes even harder on his drawing. He roughly lined out a few curves on the girl’s shoulders and looked up quickly at her face to decide on an expression. She turned a tad red when the made eye contact, but smiled weakly, and Karma gave a small smile and a friendly wave in return. He tried to return his gaze to his sketch, but instead he turned his eyes to the large gaze he felt being directed at him. His first mistake.His eyes flicked over to meet a stellar blue gaze, the color of the sky on a gentle spring day. Or more like the reflection of such in a pool of clear water, because these eyes sparkled brightly under the lighting of the stage. Karma blinked a few times to tear himself away from the azure stare, only to take in the entirety of a romanesque, bluish being. Smooth, powder blue hair trickled down to bare, slightly flushed shoulders like water in a stream, and supple, porcelain skin expanded across the entire of the exposed body. Slender fingers curled gently under a plump, rosy pout, and long eyelashes batted in curiosity.It was Nagisa Fucking Shiota. Because why fucking not.And his expression was suggestive, to say the very least. He was sporting a small smile, but his eyelids lowered seductively when Karma made eye contact, and he bit his lip as his shoulders bounced softly. The redhead blushed a tad at the lewd manner of the other boy and frowned. What the fuck. The blue-haired student had somehow followed him here, likes e the ghost of his past, and of course he had the nerve to look indecently handsome while here. The taller boy tore his eyes away from the model to his right, biting his lip in what he hoped was frustration. He came here to focus on his studies and work on carving out his life and career, not to get involved with the first queer troublemaker that glanced his way. Nagisa had been sweet and kind in the past, and maybe he still was, but Karma couldn’t be sure, what with his tendencies for parties and chaos in high school. I don’t want to get myself into a mess with him, or any guy here, the redhead decided firmly as he glared down determinedly at his paper.But some part of him obviously didn’t feel the same, because within ten seconds his eyes had flown back up to Shiota’s figure as if small magnets were implanted in his pupils. The blue-haired boy did the half-laugh again and smiled warmly and knowingly at the other boy, the same smile an amused mother gives to her confused child. Karma felt his cheeks burn slightly more and cursed internally. Who the hell did this guy think he was? He was debating whether or not to tell the model to knock it the fuck off when a female voice piped up instead, telling the petite boy to please keep still so they could draw. Nagisa’s demeanor immediately went from suave to stiff and apologetic; He blushed profusely and quickly expressed his contriteness in a somewhat squeaky, panicked voice as he returned to his original position. Karma stifled a giggle at the quick change in attitude. Not so high and mighty now, huh? He thought as he raised his eyebrows humorously at the other boy. The blue-haired student furrowed his eyebrows and stuck out his lower lip in a way that made the redhead wonder if he was joking around or not.The two-hour class was essentially a ruthless cycle of gold eyes subconsciously flitting up to meet blue ones, then forcing themselves back down again with a non subtle blush. Karma felt himself exhale in relief when the teacher dismissed the class, and hastily began to pack up his things as people filed out of the auditorium. He was a few feet from the door when he felt a tap of his shoulder. Cautiously, he turned around, hoping against all hope that it wasn’t who he thought it was. It was.“I know you.” Nagisa said simply as he stared up at the redhead.“Yeah, you do. Nice to see you.” The taller boy pushed Shiota’s hand off of his shoulder and made for the door, but a hand grabbed the sleeve of his sweatshirt, rather firmly this time.“I know you.” The blue-haired boy’s voice was firmer this time around as he held his grip on the other student. He tilted his head in curiosity. “You’re from Kunugigaoka, right? Class A. I remember you.” Karma pursed his lips, unsure of how to answer.“...Yeah, I am. Why does it matter? Do you hate me?” He wouldn’t blame him if he did. Class A’s students were always the worst about bullying the ‘End Class’ before the assassination took place. No doubt Nagisa had some bad connotations associated with anyone in his old classroom.To his surprise, Nagisa chuckled in a low voice. “Obviously not, dumbass. Weren’t you paying attention?” The undertone of flirtation was back in his demeanor, and his eyes had gone from intimidating to half-lidded. Oh God.“I’m not looking for a hookup, Shiota. Go find somebody else.” The redhead said hotly, trying to turn away again. Nagisa grabbed his shoulder and practically jerked him back around. Karma almost gasped aloud at his unsuspected strength.“Geez, what’s with you? Lighten up.” The petite boy’s eyes were playful despite his rough actions; He laughed softly. “You haven’t even told me your name yet.”“...I’m Karma Akabane,” Karma muttered grudgingly. “Happy?”Nagisa tilted his head again and smiled. “Hmm. Now I know how I remember you.”Karma’s mind immediately brought him back the the dimly lit theatre and his own sweaty palms, and he blushed. “...And how is that?”Nagisa grinned. “You’re that tough-looking nerd that I went to go see Sonic Ninja with!” With that, he walked away. “See you, Akabane.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Karma walked into the auditorium the following day and his eyes once again became magnet, automatically locking onto a pair of large blue irises. This time, however, these eyes were not staring directly into his own; rather, they were diverted to something below his gaze, dilated in what looked like a panicky expression. Karma gazed down to look at himself-He was wearing a loose, sleeveless Queen shirt and ripped up jeans that he had rolled up a bit past his ankles-Nothing unusual, especially for an art student. He couldn’t understand why Nagisa looked so fazed. He brushed his unruly scarlet bangs out of his eyes and shrugged as he sat down, feeling that azure stare following him as he flipped open his sketchbook again. This time he had chosen a taller and skinnier subject, though still female; he needed the practice for more bony figures. He’d give himself a break tomorrow and do another curvy person. The cycle of distracted eyes was set into motion once again as he began to draw, but for some reason it seemed that the tables had turned and now Shiota was a helpless victim. Karma kept looking up to see the blue-haired boy gazing at him with an almost strained expression, and it always took him a moment to realize that the redhead was returning his stare. It was still kind of embarrassing, the eye contact, but somehow it felt more manageable now that Nagisa seemed to be in some kind of stupor or nervousness. Karma had to suppress hearty laughter every time the petite student’s face would go pink. You could make a drinking game out of this, he thought to himself humorously to himself as he began to add finishing details to his sketch. He felt himself dragging behind again after class ended, and he had a good feeling that while Shiota was going to attempt banter again, this time it would be more entertaining for him. “Uh...Hey.” The blue-haired boy’s greeting was slow as he backed out from behind the stage curtain, now dressed properly. His eyes were still large as ever as he almost crept towards the redhead. Karma chuckled softly and grinned. “Hey yourself. What happened to the racey Shiota from yesterday?” For a fleeting moment, he watched Nagisa’s eyes flicker to his neck and collarbone. It was only for a millisecond, but it was enough for a warm feeling to spread through his chest. “I mean- He's still there, I’m just...Tired.” The smaller boy shuffled his feet a little before speaking again.“Hey, I just remembered-There’s something I wanted to ask you,” Karma stepped a bit closer to the now-bashful student. “How’d you end up doing this? Like, I’d have never pinned you as the type.”“Well-I-”“Are you just doing it to get back in the spotlight again~?” The taller boy teased.“No!” Nagisa sputtered indignantly, eyes darting around the room. He crossed his arms tightly across his chest. “I don’t k-know… Maybe I have an appreciation for the arts, and I’m trying to help out is all.” He finally mumbled, half-pouting. “Ha! That’s rich!”“Shut up, Akabane!”“I bet you wouldn’t know the difference between an abstract and a still life.”“I do too, asshat! Just because I’m not majoring in art, it doesn’t mean I’ve don’t know anything about the subject! I know more than you think I do!” Kama smirked at the smaller boy; This could get interesting.“Can I test your knowledge, then?” Nagisa’s expression went from frustrated to blank.“Wait, what? Like, right now?”Karma laughed. “No, dumbass. The campus is only, like, a twenty minute walk from the local art museum. How about I take you and you can show me how much you value art?” Nagisa raised a skeptical eyebrow. “...Like a date?”The redhead shrugged. “If you can show me that there’s a brain behind that pretty face, then sure, it’s a date. I’ll even get you ice cream on the way back.” Something that Karma couldn’t name was sparkling in those wide azure eyes.“Okay. You’re on. I live in the fraternity house on Third East Avenue. Come pick me up.”“You free on Friday? Six thirty PM?”“Yeah.”“Then we’ve got a date.” Karma smiled smugly as he walked off. “See you later, my fellow art hoe.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Karma hummed somewhat idly to himself as he combed his hair out and, after a moment’s hesitation, mussed it back up again into his trademark, bad-boy-esque look. He tilted his head and his phone camera in tandem, trying see his hair from every angle he could.“Karma, you’ve been posing in front of your phone for at least ten minutes now-Do you have a secret career as an Instagram model or something?” Isogai asked, peering over his shoulder. Karma stuck his tongue out at his roommate and collapsed emphatically on his bed like a pouty teenager.“No. I just have-” The redhead paused, unsure of whether or not to describe his outing as a date or not. “-I’m meeting up with someone in, like, half an hour.”“Oh, really? What are you two going to go do?”“We’re going downtown.” As kind as Isogai was, Karma still didn’t like the idea of telling him he was going to an art museum; it felt pretentious coming out of his mouth unless he gave context for the arrangement, which inevitably sounded kind of flirtatious.“Ah-Well, I’m going to go meet a few friends on the other side of the campus. Have fun!” Karma waved halfheartedly as his roommate exited the dorm room.It would take him about fifteen minutes to reach Nagisa’s house on foot, so he had about that much time to prepare for their meeting. Quickly, he threw his t-shirt off and began to search his closet for a button-down, or something that’d be appropriate for an art museum. He’d leave his jeans as they were, just to save his reputation as a laidback person. After at least three minutes of pawing through his hell of a closet, he found a simple gray collared shirt that would suit his needs. He quickly buttoned it up over his torso and tucked it in for good measure. He ran over to his bed and checked his phone clock. 6:13. Snapping his head up, he hurriedly grabbed a jacket and began his walk to the other’s house.After fifteen minutes of walking a few steps and then glancing down anxiously at Google maps, Karma found himself at a large, two-story house painted a shade of slate gray. Most of its windows were lit up, and if he listened closely he could hear the sound of boys his age yelling to each other from different sides of the estate. The redhead walked up to the house and rung the doorbell. He heard the barking of a dog at the sound, followed by a voice yelling “I GOT IT!”A boy with short raven hair answered the door. “Are you Nagisa’s date?” He asked casually.Karma felt his cheeks tinge pink. “Uh...yeah, I guess?”“You guess?”“I mean-” The redhead swallowed. “-Yes. That would be me.”“Alright, lemme just-” The other boy turned his head towards the stairs. “NAGISA! YOUR DATE IS HERE!”“I KNOW! TELL HIM I’M COMING!”The raven-haired boy returned his focus to Karma. “He’s coming.”Karma had no idea how to respond to that, but luckily he didn’t have to, as Nagisa chose that moment to come racing down the stairs, swearing like a sailor. He hurried to the door and quickly began to push the other boy out of the doorframe.“Get out of the way, asshole, I’m here now, you’re not my dad, jesus-” He halted his irritated mumbling and looked up at Karma. “Uh-Hi, Karma! Sorry I’m running late, my friend needed my help with-” The petite boy didn’t get to finish his thought, because at that moment a huge, dark figure came running down the stairs on all fours, bowled over Nagisa and crashed into Karma. The redhead stumbled back a few feet as a large weight pressed on his chest, then straightened up and forced up the head of the thing that had jumped on him. His attacker was a large brown dog that was almost as tall as he was when it stood on its hind legs. Karma burst into laughter as the dog barked happily and licked excitedly at his face.“Mochi, No! Oh my god, I’m so sorry-” Nagisa fumbled with his words as he pushed himself up from the floor, “She’s usually not like this, she just gets excitable around strangers, I’m so, so sorry-”“Are you kidding?” Karma giggled, his eyes shining as he supported the dog. “This is the best! I love her!” He began to scratch the eager dog behind her ears. “So, her name is Mochi? Whose dog is she?”Nagisa didn’t say anything for a moment, he simply stared up at the other boy with wide eyes and slightly flushed cheeks. Eventually he murmured, “Oh-Yeah, she’s mine. Sorry.”“Don’t apologize,” Karma placated the petite boy as he set the dog back on all fours, still chuckling. “She’s adorable. I love her. I’m so glad I get to meet her.” He said cheerily as he squatted down to pet the dog some more. “Who’s a good girl?” He asked her in a singsong voice as he scratched at the scruff of her neck. She barked happily in response. “Oh, is it you? Are you the good girl?” He teased, hugging her quickly before rising back up.Nagisa blinked a few times at the other, a somewhat visible blush tinting his face, before gently taking Mochi’s collar and pulling her back into the house. He looked back up at Karma, then paused. “Um...Are you ready to leave, then?” He asked softly.It was at this moment that Karma first got to take a good look at the smaller boy, and he was noticeably surprised by what he saw. He had expected Nagisa to answer the door in something tight-fitting or wine-colored, with his face made up like it had been in the tabloid pictures (The redhead remembered that Nagisa had been wearing silvery eyeshadow on the day the still life unit started). Instead, his long blue hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and he wore a simple red sweater over a white button up, which was paired with black jeans and converse.“...You’re wearing glasses,” Karma noted as he gazed at the petite boy.Nagisa’s hand went up to his face immediately, where the large, rounded frames rested. “I-Oh, yeah...Sorry, I didn’t have enough time to put in my contacts. I used to not have to wear them, but I kind of fucked up my eyesight in junior high from staying up late reading in stuff, and then in high school I...Well, you get the idea.” He chuckled nervously and pushed up his spectacles.“It’s fine. You look nice in them.” It was true. They brought out his already large blue eyes, making them a hundred times more mesmerizing than they already were. The redhead blushed just slightly at the realization that he could happily spend hours gazing into those eyes, just trying to count every shade and tone of blue that existed within such gorgeous irises. There was silence for a moment, then he snapped out of his stupor. Dumbass, you’re supposed to be acting suave!To make up for his sudden pause, he grinned and extended his elbow. “Well, Nagisa, are you ready to be whisked away into the night?~” He teased.The blue-haired boy rolled his eyes and smirked, taking the elbow nonetheless. “We’re just going to an art museum, you prick.” He laughed as they began to walk down the street. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The stroll to the museum was mostly filled with chatter about random subjects-Marvel movies, dog breeds, music genres-nothing of substance, just lighthearted banter. Karma learned that Nagisa was majoring in writing, his more specific interest striking the redhead’s interest particularly.“I like to, um…” The blue-haired boy murmured started, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “...I like writing poetry a lot. Love poems, specifically.”“Love poems?”“I-Well, yeah. Not just the kind of thing you’d dedicate to a lover, though. I just find the concept of romance in itself really interesting. It’s like art, in a way. It’s scope, depth, importance, and meaning is totally different to everyone, but somehow we all, as a species, seem to be able to link to each other with it. I like to try and… Discover all the ways a person can fall in love, if you will. To map out feelings that are often labeled as indescribable by people.” He paused and chuckled. “Sorry, I sound kind of like a geek.” He apologized, looking up at the other boy.“No, no, it’s fine!” Karma waved his hand hurriedly. “That’s actually a really cool way to think about it. I like your interpretation.” He grinned down at the smaller student. “You sound really intelligent. You should read me some of your works sometime; I’d love to hear them.”Nagisa’s cheeks tinted pink, and he nervously pushed up his glasses. “I...I don’t know. I guess I could.” He smiled softly at the ground. Karma smiled along with him.Soon enough, they reached the museum. “So do we have to like, buy tickets, or-“Karma pushed ahead of him. “Fear not, Shiota-All art majors have memberships to the museum for study classes.” He exclaimed with specious arrogance, pulling a small card out of his pocket and showing it to the front desk, who gestured for the two boys to go inside.Nagisa rolled his eyes playfully. “My knight in shining armor.” He followed Karma into the first room and looked around hesitantly.“So, Mr. Shiota, tell me-“ Karma spoke up cockily, putting a hand to his chin, “What type of painting is that?”He questioned, pointing to a painting across the room.Nagisa eyed it for a second, then spoke with discernment in his voice. “Impressionist, obviously. Whoever made it is a bit of a Monet impersonator, though. It kind of lacks individuality.”Karma’s eyes widened in surprise. He had expected at least a moment of stuttering before an answer, let alone an answer this detailed. His mouth gaped for a moment as he gazed at the other, but he closed his mouth quickly as it had opened and he shook his head. Maybe he’d just gotten lucky? He grabbed Nagisa’s hand and pulled him over to another portion of the room. “Well, what about this one-“___The night proceeded, with Karma pointing left and right and Nagisa giving nonchalant answers, but Akabane’s demeanor went from one of interrogation to want of second opinion. The two conversed in deep thought over drawings and sculptures scattered throughout the museum, throwing ideas about theme and composition out for the other to build on. Occasionally one of the two boys would pull out their notebook and jot down ideas for future pieces. Nagisa did it more frequently, though he always looked somewhat wary whenever he did so, his eyes flickering nervously between the pages and Karma, as if he were worried his date might attempt to steal his thoughts from him. Karma noted that under Nagisa’s bright blue eyes, one could see dark circles. The large glasses and the vibrancy of the cerulean irises drew attention away from them, but if you had an artist’s eye for detail, you could just make them out for Karma’s bird eye view. Curious.
10708263	A Heart of Bone old	{ "Archive Warning": null, "Category": null, "Characters": "Reader, Papyrus (Undertale), Sans (Undertale), Toriel (Undertale), Alphys (Undertale), Undyne (Undertale), Boring Humans, Mettaton (Undertale), Frisk (Undertale), Grillby (Undertale), Bones (Mini Blaster Dragon), Gaster (Undertale), Reader's ex, Chara (Undertale)", "Fandom": "Undertale (Video Game)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by TheSoupiest", "chapters": "12/12", "completed": "2021-10-18", "published": "2017-04-23T00:00:00", "words": "29,233", "Additional Tags": "First Time So Please Don't Hate Me, Racism", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Sans/Toriel (Undertale), Alphys/Undyne (Undertale)", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death", "Categories": "F/F, F/M, M/M, Other", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	You open your eyes. You blink once or twice, trying to make sense of your surroundings. You don’t recognize the room you’re in. You sit up in a car bed. You don’t know where you are, why you’re here, and whose room you’re in.You try to remember what had happened before you fell asleep. You remember running from someone. Your ex! Your abusive ex was drunk and had been chasing you! Well, there's another good reason why you decided to dump him. You realized there was an intense pain in your ankle, and you remember you had tripped over something and had fallen into a ditch or something. You had blacked out after that, but right before you went completely unconscious, you remember seeing an orange-ish glow. You wonder what that could have been. Your next thought is that maybe your ex had taken him to his home, but then again, you've been there before, and this place looks nothing like it. You check to see if you’re still dressed, and you’re surprised to find not only are you still wearing all your clothes, but you are also wearing a red scarf.“Where did this come from?” you ask yourself. You hold the end of the scarf in your hand. The fabric is worn, but soft. It smells faintly of spaghetti sauce, for some reason. You try to stand up, completely forgetting your ankle. Once you stand, you immediately fall back down, writhing in pain. You hear heavy footsteps quickly coming up stairs, then the door opens. A… a skeleton runs through the open door.“HUMAN!” the skeleton says, in a worried tone. “YOU SHOULD NOT BE WALKING WITH YOUR ANKLE LIKE THAT! YOU WILL BREAK IT FURTHER!” The skeleton had startled you a little. It had completely slipped your mind about the whole monsters coming to the surface thing. You realize you had stopped breathing, then it really sunk in that he is a skeleton. A real skeleton. You faint.When you wake up again, there is a damp towel on your forehead, and a plate of spaghetti on a table next to you. And the skeleton, at a table on the far side of the room, writing on something. The skeleton picks it up, then turns your way.“OH!” the skeleton says, surprised. “YOU’RE AWAKE!” It looks down at the piece of paper folded in half that was in it’s hands, then says, “CAN YOU PRETEND TO BE ASLEEP SO I CAN PUT THIS NEXT TO YOUR SPAGHETTI THEN LEAVE?”“...What?” you ask in confusion. This skeleton seems not only alive, but also polite, caring, and it seems to have a certain bit of innocence. Nothing like what you had expected would come from a living skeleton.“NEVERMIND,” it says. “I’LL JUST PUT IT HERE AND LEAVE SO I DO NOT SCARE YOU ANYMORE.” It sets the folded paper, which looks a bit like a card, on the table the spaghetti was on, then leaves.You pick up the card. It has a very poorly drawn skeleton(?) or something on it, and over the drawing, there is the word 'SORRY written. You open the card. It says, 'I’M SORRY FOR SCARING YOU. MY NAME IS PAPYRUS, AND I WOULD LIKE TO TRY TO BE YOUR FRIEND. HOWEVER, IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO BE MY FRIEND, THEN I COMPLETELY RESPECT YOUR DECISION, SINCE YOU FAINTED AT THE SIGHT OF ME.' You close the card and turn it over, to see if there is anything else. On the back it says, 'AND IF IT MEANS ANYTHING, I CAUGHT THE ALCOHOL-INFLUENCED MAN THAT WAS CHASING YOU, AND TURNED HIM INTO THE POLICE. I WASN’T SURE IF HE HAD INTENT TO HARM YOU OR NOT, BUT YOU HAD BEEN RUNNING AWAY FROM HIM, SO I ASSUMED HE MEANT WRONG.'You stare blankly at the card. The skeleton... No. Papyrus… had saved you from your ex. You look at the scarf around your neck again. 'Maybe this is Papyrus’s,' you think to yourself. Papyrus had been kind, polite, innocent, and most of all, brave for being able to face your ex when he was drunk. It occurs to you that Papyrus’s voice sounded pretty masculine, so that probably means that Papyrus is male. It also just feels wrong to call Papyrus an ‘it’ any more, because he seemed to be like an actual sweet person, despite being just a skeleton. He had helped you. No, he had SAVED you. And he wants to be your friend. And he is sorry for scaring you. And you had been frightened only by the fact that he was a skeleton. You feel terrible for judging him solely by his looks.You look at the spaghetti. You pick up the plate and sniff it. It doesn’t smell great, but it doesn’t smell terrible either. It doesn’t seem to surprise you, since he was a skeleton, and probably had no sense of smell or taste. You take a bite. It’s not good, but it’s not bad. You could keep it down, and it didn’t try to come back up. You notice that there is a piece of paper under where the plate of spaghetti was. You pick it up and read it. 'MY BROTHER SAYS THIS IS MY BEST PLATE OF SPAGHETTI YET, SO I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!' There is another skeleton. Probably in this house. And if two brothers are living together, then there is probably also a parent with them, so there is probably at least one more skeleton living in this house. Then it dawned on you that the note said this is his best plate of spaghetti. Meaning he has made spaghetti multiple times, and the ones he made before were probably a lot worse than this plate. You appreciate the rest of the spaghetti a lot more.You wonder how you should tell Papyrus that you are no longer afraid of him. Shouting seems like a bad idea. Waiting for him to come back in feels kind of rude. You decide to take a closer look at your right ankle. It’s bandaged up, and it has a splint on it. The bandages have a red spot on them. You try to see if you can move your foot a little, but a shot of pain hits your ankle like a sledgehammer.“Ow!” you cry out, in pain.“HUMAN?!” Papyrus calls through the door. “ARE YOU OKAY?! YOU DIDN’T TRY TO STAND ON THAT ANKLE AGAIN, DID YOU?! I’M COMING IN, OKAY?” He opens the door carefully.“No, I’m fine,” you reassure Papyrus. “I just- OW!” The red spot on the bandages gets a little bit bigger. Papyrus comes to your ankle, and takes off his red gloves.“PLEASE DO NOT PANIC,” he says. “I’M JUST GOING TO HEAL YOU A BIT WITH MY MAGIC, OKAY?” He gently places his hands on your ankle. His eye sockets begin to glow orange a little, and orange light begins to come from his palms. You watch, wide-eyed and filled with awe. Your ankle feels pleasantly warm for a second, then the pain numbs.“Woah,” you breathe out. “That… was so cool.”Papyrus’s face brightens up. “YOU REALLY THINK SO?” he exclaims.“Can… can you show me more?”“OF COURSE, HUMAN!” Papyrus bounces excitedly. “I WILL GLADLY SHOW YOU MORE MAGIC!” Papyrus puts his gloves back on, and holds his hand out, palm pointing down. He lifts his hand, and floating bones appear around him. He moves his hands around, and the floating bones form the words 'COOL DUDE'.You sit in silent awe. “Can you do anything else?” you ask.“WELL OF COURSE!” Papyrus booms. He raises his hand, as if he was waiting to be called on, and a giant floating dragon-looking skull appears behind him. It’s … It’s … Absolutely adorable.You gasp. “It's so cute!”“NYEH?” Papyrus says in confusion. “IT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THAT CUTE. HMM…” He pokes the giant skull. It pushes into his hand and nuzzles it. “NYEH?! THAT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN! WHAT HAS GOTTEN INTO YOU?” Papyrus inspects the skull in confusion.You try your best not to squeal. Somehow, you succeed in not squealing. Instead, you grin like an idiot. The dragon skull notices you smiling… you think. It pushes past Papyrus and floats toward you. It suddenly shrinks and grows a small skeletal dragon body, and drops onto your stomach.You expected it to be a lot heavier, but then again, it’s a skeleton. You can’t hold back your squeal this time. The skele-dragon, as you have mentally dubbed it, walks up to your face and snuggles it.“WH-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Papyrus panics a little. “WHO TOLD YOU TO DO THAT?! IS THIS ANOTHER ONE OF SANS’S PRANKS?” You can’t help but smile at Papyrus a little.“It’s okay,” you reassure Papyrus. “I think it’s better for it to act like this so I’m not as frightened by it.” The skele-dragon curls up by your left shoulder and falls asleep. 'It’s even cuter when it’s sleeping!' you think to yourself. “HM…” Papyrus inspects the skele-dragon. “WELL, YOU DO HAVE A GOOD POINT.” He gently pets the skele-dragon’s head.You realize there’s a little orange dusting his face. This must be how skeletons blush. He was embarrassed by the skele-dragon coming out like this. It dawns on you that Papyrus looks… kinda cute. You feel your face get a little warm. Papyrus looks up at your face, and the orange deepens a little. He straightens up.“I, UM… I JUST REMEMBERED I HAVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO DO,” he stutters. He turned and went to leave the room. You suddenly remember the thing you wanted to tell him.“Wait,” you call out to him. “I wanted to tell you… I would like to be your friend. And… I liked your spaghetti.” Papyrus turns back to you with a little orange still dusting his cheekbones, and smiles. Somehow. “AND WHAT IS YOUR NAME…?” he asks you. You tell him. “HM, IS IT OKAY IF I STILL CALL YOU HUMAN?” He asks.“Sure,” you say. “Why the heck not.” He nods happily, and leaves the room, looking a bit happier.You sit up in the bed again, and pet the skele-dragon. You half-expected it to disappear once Papyrus left the room, since he was the one who summoned it, but there it remained. You decide to name it, at least until it disappeared.“I wonder what you were supposed to do,” you wonder out loud. It looks up and shoots out a little lazer, startling you. It left a little scorch mark on the wall.You try to see if you can wipe it off, because you really didn’t want you or the little lazer-light-show next to you damaging anything in Papyrus’s room. It easily comes off with a quick wipe.“Huh,” you say to yourself. “Must be the material.” The skele-dragon you have not named yet hops onto your lap and attempts to climb up onto your head. You laugh.“What’cha doin’ there, bones?” you jokingly say to the skele-dragon. “Hey, that’s not a half-bad name. What do you think of it, Bones?”Bones gave up on climbing to your head, and instead made motions suggesting that it wanted you to pick it up. You lift Bones up, and it spreads it’s bony wings. You’re not sure if it will be able to fly, so you are a little concerned about Bones’s behaviour. It jumps off of you and flaps it’s wings, and luckily, through some strange magic, it flies. It lands back on your lap, being wary of your hurt ankle.“Had a good fly around the room, Bones?” you ask Bones, jokingly. In response, Bones snuggles up on your lap. “I’ll take that as a yes,” you chuckle.You suddenly hear a door opening and closing downstairs. You hear Papyrus talking, and another male voice talking back to him. You can’t quite tell what they’re saying, but it seems like Papyrus is a little annoyed by the person who just walked in. The second person seems to move up some stairs, and you can hear a little better what they’re saying.“bro i swear i didn’t do anything,” the second voice chuckles. “but i will admit, i’m kind of disappointed in myself for not thinking of it.”“IF YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING, THEN WHO ELSE COULD POSSIBLY ALTER WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE AND HOW IT ACTS?” Papyrus asks.“uh, you,” the second voice says.“WHY WOULD I SABOTAGE MY OWN BLASTER?!” Papyrus boomed. “SANS, YOU ARE MAKING ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE!”“maybe you did it in your sleep,” the individual apparently known as Sans says. “or you’re in lo-”“NO I AM NOT AND YOU KNOW IT!” Papyrus interrupts, sounding kind of embarrassed.“yeah, sure you’re not,” Sans teases. You hear footsteps walking past the door, then another door opening, then closing.Was he going to say ‘love?’ you think to yourself. You feel your face get warmer. You brush away the thought and try to keep your mind on something else. Your mind automatically goes to your ex. It occurs to you that he didn’t seem angry that night. Definitely drunk, but not angry. In fact, when he had called out your name, at the time it sounded like he was angry, but now that you really think about it, he seemed surprised, even scared. You find yourself wondering why.Then something else comes to mind. It’s Monday. You work on Mondays. Your boss is an a-hole who won’t take any excuse for being late or absent from work. You hear a knock on the door.“HUMAN, I’M COMING IN OKAY?” Papyrus calls through the door. The door opens, and Papyrus steps through. His face is still a little orange. “HUMAN, I KNOW YOU CAN’T STAY HERE FOREVER, SO I GOT A CRUTCH FOR YOU SO THAT YOU MAY WALK FROM PLACE TO PLACE WITH EASE!” Papyrus holds up the crutch he has. He helps you up and onto the crutch. You then remember you are still wearing his scarf. You take it off with your free hand.“Here,” you say, holding the scarf for Papyrus to take. “This is yours, right?”“AH, RIGHT,” Papyrus said, taking the scarf. “I COMPLETELY FORGOT I HAD PUT THAT ON YOU.” He puts the scarf around his own neck. “I’D HATE TO JUST KICK YOU OUT, BUT I’M CERTAIN YOU HAVE IMPORTANT PLACES TO BE AT AND IMPORTANT THINGS TO DO.”“Thanks, Papyrus,” you say. “You’ve been a huge help.” Papyrus blushes a bit again, then helps you down the stairs to the front door. You both say goodbye, and you go on your way. You hope you can meet with him again. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- “Really, the excuse for today is just ridiculous,” your boss says, rubbing his temple. “You broke your ankle while being chased in the woods, but a MONSTER saved you?”“Um, a skeleton, sir,” you correct him.“Oh, yes, a SKELETON,” he says sarcastically. “That makes it sooo much more believable. You’re REALLY supporting your case here.” He sighs. “This is your final warning. If you’re late one more time, I’m firing you,” he huffs. He turns around and heads for his office.“I was only six minutes late,” you mumble to yourself. You sigh and head over to your work station.You’re glad that they recently added chairs into customer service. You could finally have time to rest your good leg from having all your weight on it. It was a little difficult getting into your uniform at home, but you managed. The day has begun, and Customer Service is open. The first dozen or so people to come to Customer Service seem to just be trying to get free items in compensation of the “terrible service and rude attitudes of the staff.” To be completely honest, you really just want to clobber them with your crutch, but remembering who gave it to you really makes you calm down. It’d be terrible to dent or bloody a gift someone gave to you.“Hey, lady!” a customer yells, coming up to your area, which already has a long line of people you need to help first. “I want a refund for this!” He holds up a small pack of gum.“Of course,” you say, sweetly. “Right after I help out all these people who have been patiently waiting for a turn.” The woman you are helping out right now is trying to return a jug of milk that has an incorrect expiration date on it that’s off by two weeks.“Is a lady who was too stupid to realize she was buying spoiled milk really more important than me?!” he yells, waving around the small package of gum.“First off,” the man behind the woman says, stepping forward, “The expiration date was wrong. It’s not this nice woman’s fault for not knowing it was expired. Secondly, yes. She is more important than you, because unlike you, she and a dozen or so people were actually waiting patiently in line. If you would just go to the end of the line, you will eventually be helped. You and your tiny pack of gum can wait.” The man, silent, shuffles to the end of the line. You finish helping the woman in front, then give the man behind her a complimentary coupon for being such a great person, as is company policy. Greg, one of your coworkers by the checkout, calls your name.“Yeah?” you call to him.“You think you could help me out with this?” he calls back to you. Janet, the other coworker at Customer Service, gives you the thumbs up to leave.“Sure,” you say, getting up. You walk over, and find a customer throwing a fit and yelling insults… at a skeleton. A short skeleton wearing a blue hoodie.“Are you okay, um, sir?” you say, coming over to the skeleton.“yeah,” he says. “for now, at least.” You recognize his voice from somewhere. He looks down at your name tag. “huh, i guess you're the one i'm looking for,” he says. “papyrus asked me to check on you. the name’s sans. i'm his brother.”“I'd hate to cut your meeting short, but would you mind helping?!” Greg gasps, trying his best to hold the woman back.“Demon!” she screams. “Vile creature! Go back into the underground where you belong!” She continues to hurl insults at him as she swings her purse menacingly.“Ma’am, please calm down,” you say, trying to resolve this with as little violence as possible.“I won't calm down until that THING is kicked out of the store!” she yells, pointing at Sans.“What the hell is going on here!” your boss says, storming towards you.‘It's about time,’ you say in your head. Immediately, the woman points at Sans again.“You need to kick out that monster, or I will never shop here again!” she yells. Normally, your boss would kick out the person causing the trouble, but this time is different. Your boss is also against the monsters coming to the surface.“Of course, ma'am,” he says, and without a moment's hesitation, turns to Sans, and says, “I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”You and Greg stare in shock and disbelief. Greg reluctantly lets go of the woman, and she huffs and stomps away. Sans shrugs and starts walking toward the exit.“No,” you say. Sans stops in his tracks, and your boss looks at you.“Excuse me?” your boss says.“I said, no,” you say, a bit louder. “You will either kick that woman out for her behaviour and allow this kind sir to stay, or I quit, and tell the police why you kicked out a person for being assaulted.” Your boss stares at you in shock. After a minute of silence, you speak again.“Fine. Suit yourself.” You pull off your name tag and hand it to your boss. “I didn't like this place anyway.” You walk out without saying another word, and Sans follows close behind.“thanks for standing up for me,” he says, once you both are out of the building. “pity you lost your job, though.” He pauses, then looks up at you. dang he’s short “you did have a backup job, right?” he says, with a mixture of worry and mild amusement in his voice. “please tell me you didn’t throw away your only option.”“O-of course I didn’t!” you say, trying to think of SOMETHING you did recently that had something to do with getting a new job. You can’t think of any, but there’s always the choice of asking your parents for money until you can get another job. You really hope it doesn’t come to that.“you want me to help you with some options?” Sans sighs. “‘cuz i know someone who owns a bar and is currently looking for employees. he’s a monster too, just so you know. he’s been having trouble hiring up here since not many humans are okay with working for monsters, much less fire.” Your need for a job outweighs your pride and unwillingness to admit you literally have no other options.“Eh, sure- wait, did you say fire?” you say, completely getting off track. Something else suddenly comes to mind. “Also, how did you know where I worked?”“paps said he remembered seeing you once around there,” sans explained, nonchalantly. “apparently he had a better experience than what i had.” He chuckled. “as for the fire bit, my monster friend that owns the bar is literally fire. don’t worry, the worst he’ll burn someone is telling them that they have awful taste in everything.” You burst out laughing, being reminded of a comic you had read once.“He sounds like he’s got a really -fiery- personality!” you laugh. Sans’s smile brightens.“well, at least he’s not too -hot- tempered!”“I don’t know why people don’t want to work for him. He sounds really -hot-!”“so hot he’s -flaming-!” You both burst into booming laughter. You realize you both have just been standing on the corner of the parking lot.“Hey,” you say, after you have finally stopped laughing. “Did you drive here, or something?”“nah,” Sans responds. “i took a shortcut.”‘From what I know, he and Papyrus live at least thirteen miles away from here,’ you think to yourself. ‘How could he find a shortcut that cuts down walking enough? Even I had to take the bus!’ Sans apparently has already guessed what you’re thinking.“a maaaagical shortcut,” he says, doing a sparkly effect with his hands. You look at him, confused. He doesn’t seem to feel like explaining any more. “did you drive?” he asks.“No, I took the bus. My car’s in the shop.”“if you tell me where you live, i could probably take you home myself. it’d be a heck of a lot faster, and cheaper too.”“Wait, seriously?”“yup.” You tell him the name of the apartment building you live in. He offers his hand, and you take it. You both take one step, and suddenly you’re there.“…H-huh…?” you look around, confused.“pretty fast shortcut, eh?” Sans chuckles. “pretty dang magical.” He looks at his watch, which you hadn’t noticed. “welp, i best be off. see ya soon, i hope.” And with that, he disappeared.Still dazed, you head into your apartment building. Once in your apartment, you change out of your work clothes, being wary of your ankle. After changing into a tank-top and sweatpants, you make yourself a cup of coffee and an egg on toast. After eating your food, you take the rest of your coffee over to one of the comfy chairs by the clear sliding door to your balcony. As you sip your coffee, you stare at the pigeons outside the door wistfully. Suddenly, you see a strange looking dog on the top of the roof of the building across the street. You wonder how it got up there, and what type it is. You put down the empty cup and slide open the glass door, stepping out on the balcony. The dog moves, and something raises from its back. The things on it’s back start flapping up and down, and it lifts up off the roof and, to your surprise (as if this wasn’t surprising enough), starts flying towards you. As it gets closer, you realize it’s made of bones.“Bones!” you call out excitedly, extending your free arm. Bones flies happily to you, and adjusts itself so it’s on your shoulder. “I missed ya, buddy!” you say, snuggling the little bone-dragon-thingy. Bones yips with excitement as it nuzzles you. You waddle your way inside, and set yourself and Bones onto a comfy chair. Once you are sitting, Bones gently slips onto your lap.“How’d you find me, Bones?” you ask, jokingly. Bones makes sniffling sounds as it pushes its snout into your stomach. “Followed my scent, eh?” you chuckle. “You’re pretty smart, aintcha?” Bones makes little purring sounds while laying content in your lap. You pet Bones’s skull, and hear a low rumbling coming from it. You realize that it’s purring, and try really hard not to squeal.You hear a knock on the door. Bones perks up and hops off your lap so you can get up. You grab your crutch and head on over to the door. You hadn’t expected any packages or visitors today. You open the door, and see Sans, only, his hood is up, he’s wearing longer pants, and he’s wearing gloves with bone patterns on them.“hey,” he says, giving a little wave. “forgot to give this to you.” He pulls out a slip of paper with some numbers on it. “it’s papyrus’s number. he forgot to give it to you. he’d also like to know your number.”“Oh, okay,” you say, taking the slip of paper. “I think I’ve got a pen somewhere. Why don’t you come in while I find one?” You move to the side to let Sans through. He steps in, and you close the door after him. “You can go sit in a chair over there if you want,” you say, gesturing over to the comfy chairs. Sans shrugs and moves over to them.“huh,” he says, looking at one of the chairs. “didn’t know you could make mini blaster dragons.” Bones climbed up to the top of the chair it was on to get a better look at Sans, even though it had to look down at him when it was up there (so dang short).“I can’t,” you say, finally spotting a pen. “That’s the one Papyrus showed me, and it still hasn’t disappeared. That’s normal, right?”“no,” Sans said, clearly impressed. “they’re not supposed to last this long. looks like this one became completely independent. i can’t see any magical connection coming from it at all.” He paused for a moment. “did you name it?” he chuckled.“Yeah,” you say, grabbing a piece of paper. “I named it Bones. Say hi, Bones!” Bones made a squeaky, raspy sound that you could only describe as a dragon trying to speak people.You write down your phone number on the slip of paper you found, and looked on the back to make sure you didn’t accidentally write it on the same slip of paper that had Papyrus’s number.“Oh, I meant to ask you,” you say, as you hand Sans the slip of paper. “Why were you covering up more than before?”“apparently, being a skeleton makes people nervous,” he said, stuffing the paper in his pocket. “covering up gives off the illusion of at least being not completely bones. welp, see ya.” And with that, he disappeared. Second time he’s done it, and you feel like you’ll never get used to it. You move over to the comfy chair you were in before, and sit down again. Bones hops right back onto your lap.“You’re pretty special, eh Bones?” you chuckle, lightly scratching Bones’s head. Bones stands up and presents it’s chest. A white gem in the shape of an upside down heart you hadn’t noticed before is embedded in Bones’s sternum. You gently touch it, and it gives off a faint glow.“...Really special.” ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Your new boss, Grillby, was more than happy to hire you. He even let you wait until your leg was fully healed before starting your first day. You've been working at Grillby's for about a month now, and you've loved every minute of it.The regular customers that come almost every day are mostly monsters, and they're so polite and tip very well! The worst you've gotten is the occasional customer who's decided to get piss drunk at the bar and has to be picked up by a relative or friend. Those people, however, end up coming back the next day and apologizing for their behavior, and end up leaving an exceptionally large tip.However, the most regular of the customers has to be Sans. He not only comes every day, but usually more than once per day. You've noticed he puts practically everything in his tab, and drinks ketchup like there's no tomorrow. Like, not even putting it on his food, just… drinking it. Straight from the bottle. Today, however, is a little different.Sometimes, when he has bad days, he orders another kind of drink. He never drinks much of it, but he seems to be more of a lightweight. After just a shot of even the weak stuff, he's a little tipsy. Sometimes, on really bad days, sans doesn't even have to order anything. Grillby just knows. Sans's expression never changes, but you're starting to figure out how to read him. He tells more light-hearted jokes when he's upset, and he usually chuckles half-heartedly after them when he's really upset. However, when he's really down, he barely says anything. Today, he walks in silent. Grillby's flame flickers a little in surprise just before he prepares Sans's drink, which today happens to be a shot of watered down vodka. Sans sits down, and Grillby places the drink in front of him.You place a customer's order in front of them as you ponder what happened to Sans to make him so down. As you pass by him to grab the next orders, you notice him down the whole shot in one gulp. Immediately, Grillby brings out a bottle of ketchup and another shot of watered down vodka. You almost stop in surprise. Sans usually drinks his shot slowly, and never asks for another. You glance at Grillby, and you can tell by the flicker of his flames that he's seen this maybe only once or twice before. You grab the next platter of food and drinks to give to the customers that ordered them. As you go around, you notice some of the regular monsters eyeing Sans worriedly. You overhear a hushed conversation from some of the dogs.“When was the last time he walked in like that?” one of them asks.“I’m not sure,” another whispers. “I think it might have been just before the human came.”“Is this the second or third time it's happened?” another smoking a dog treat asks. The rest shrug and look over at Sans with worried looks.'What could have happened?' you wonder. After setting down all the orders in their correct spots, you come back to the bar. You almost drop your empty tray in surprise as you see tears trickling down Sans's boney cheeks. And the surprises keep coming, as Grillby speaks for the first time you've heard.“He is fine, Sans,” he says, his smokey voice barely audible. “It's past the point of possibility. Frisk promised they wouldn't reset anymore, right?”“yeah, i know,” Sans mumbles. “doesn't make it any less vivid, though.”“I know it hurts, but you need to stay strong. For his sake, if not yours.”“i'm trying, grilb.”“I know, Sans. I'm just trying to help.” After a few moments of silence, Grillby asks, “Would you like me to call Papyrus to pick you up when you're ready to go home?”“yeah,” Sans sighs. “i'd like that.”“Will you tell him this time?”“it’d be better if i don't. i’d just cause more problems if i told him.” You decide that's enough sticking your nose in other people's business. You want to help Sans through whatever's going on, but at the same time, you really feel like this isn't something you should interfere with.A few hours pass. Four empty shot glasses sit next to Sans. His ketchup, only half finished. It's late. Most of the customers have left. Grillby goes over to the phone and dials a number. A few seconds later, he hangs up without saying a word. Grillby writes down all the things Sans got on a slip of paper and places it in a box labeled 'Sans’s Tab', and quickly removes all the shot glasses. About five or six minutes later, Papyrus walks through the door.“OH! HUMAN! YOU WORK HERE?” he asks, spotting you cleaning a table. You nod. Papyrus looks over to Sans and sighs. He walks over to him and picks him up. “I'M SORRY, GRILLBY,” he says, but Grillby puts his hand up, silently reassuring it's alright. Papyrus nods and positions Sans on his back in a piggyback position. When positioned like this, Sans looks like a tuckered out little kid, as opposed to a very short, very drunk, full grown man… skeleton… person. Papyrus apologizes again, and exits. After an hour or two, the last of the customers have left, and your shift has ended. You leave. Usually, on your drive home, Bones meets you about halfway. Today, however, he stayed home like you told him. However, before you head home, you take a quick stop at a monster bookstore.“Heya, Bones!” you say, walking through the front door of your apartment once you get home. “Have you been a good Blaster Dragon?” Bones jumps up excitedly and flies over to you. “Haha, I think I'll take that as a yes!” Bones chirps excitedly as it hops around your feet. You reach into your purse and pull out a small geode you bought the other day. “I brought your favorite!” Bones sits up excitedly with it's mouth wide open.You can't remember exactly how you figured out Bones ate geodes, but you decide it doesn't really matter, especially since they’re a lot cheaper now, thanks to the Underground being absolutely full of them. You toss the geode into Bones’s open mouth, and watch as Bones happily crunches down on it. You go over to your fridge and pull out a microwavable Mac-n-cheese, and pop it in the microwave. After a few minutes, you take it out, grab a fork, and set yourself down in your reading chair as you pull out the book you bought at the bookstore.You were genuinely surprised to actually be able to find it so fast, or even at all. The title of the book is 'Summoned Weapons For Beginners'. Now that you really think about it, summoning magical weapons must actually be pretty common for Monsters. You open your dinner and take a bite of the Mac-n-cheese before opening up the book. After flipping through it a while, you finally find a chapter on blasters. You also find that there are a lot of different kinds of blasters. Some shoot different kinds of lasers, some shoot only one kind, some of them even manifest themselves as a part of the caster's hands. However, you can't find any that look alive. Until the last page.There is a sketch of a blaster, almost like what Bones originally looked like, but… terrifying. It is a giant dragon-like skull with no lights in its void black sockets, and two cracks in it, one above the right socket, and one below the left. It's jaw is unhinged in a lower sketch, and it is shooting a devastating blast. Something is odd about it's name. It just says 'Blaster'. The other blasters in the book all have a beginning part to them, like 'Floating Eye Blaster,' or 'Hand Blaster,' but there isn't another part to this one. Or rather, there is an empty space where there should be one, like it’s written in invisible ink. You decide to read the text below it.'The Blaster, named for it's original user, Dr , is, of the blasters currently usable by Monster kind, the most powerful and devastating. The Blaster was artificially created in an attempt to make a device that could break through the barrier without having to use Human Souls, but to no avail. In an attempt to make sure no one else could steal the overpowered ability of the Blasters, Dr made it so the ability to use the blasters could only be attained through heredity. The only two other monsters that are known to be capable of using the Blasters are his two sons, Sans and Papyrus Serif, who attained their Lastname through their mother, Sevillana Serif. The worst damage a Blaster has been witnessed to be capable of, accidentally killed four Monsters, which consisted of three Scientists and one young passerby, and left Dr with almost fatal injuries that took a whole month of perpetual healing to finally fix. No one knows what happened to him after that point, or who he really was or what he looked like, since he seemed to disappear from existence. The only record there is of the Doctor's existence is the written records of him, and even then his name is missing throughout all of it. Records he seemingly wrote in his own hand are gone, and all we know about him today is from previous copies of this book and various typed records of his scientific discoveries. Because of this, there is no other discovered information about the blasters, and there most likely never will be.'You drop the book on your lap with an exasperated sigh. You didn't find what you were looking for at all. You just got even more confused! Who was this scientist? Was he really Sans's and Papyrus's dad? What happened to him? Was their mom still alive? Are their blasters as strong as the Scientist's supposedly was? Did the Blaster cause him to cease to exist? Is Bones something that could actually happen, which is the one question you were actually looking for the answer to!! Bones jumps up on your lap and rests its snout on the book. It snorts a little, and a bit of text appears by its snout, right at the top of the page before Blaster. Your eyes widen as the word appears, and disappears just as quickly. 'Gaster Blaster'. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- As you place the last drink on your platter to a particularly happy Monster, you hear the chime of the bell above the door, and a resounding “Sans!” going through the restaurant. However, as you turn around to greet him, a “Papyrus!” flows through as well. With genuine surprise, you watch as not only Sans, but also Papyrus walk through the restaurant to Sans's usual spot, and the spot to the right of it. Papyrus spots you and says your name, waving happily. And he's not the only one in a much cheerier mood. Sans's feelings seem to match his permanent smile, seeing as there's an extra spring in his step and has jokes out the wazoo, much to Papyrus's apparent annoyance.“hey grillby,” Sans says, leaning a bit on the bar. “you know my tab that I haven't paid off in a while?” Grillby looks at Sans with his equivalent of an expression that says 'Nooo, I've never heard of this strange alien word before,’ in an extremely sarcastic tone. “heh, well…” Sans chuckles, reaching under his coat. He pulls out a fairly large brown bag that makes a metallic sound as he sets it on the bar counter. “i thought it'd be good if i'd pay it today. in the old currency i owed you. all 8,756 g, not converted to their current value.” Grillby looks like he was literally about to cry with joy.You try remembering just what the convergence of 1 G to American dollars is, but you can't think of it. With a quick curiosity, you pull out your phone and look it up. You almost drop your phone in surprise. 1 G is worth $4,695.02 in US dollars. Meaning, 8,756 G would be worth… you need to put this on your calculator… it would be worth a whopping $41,109,595.12! No wonder Grillby was about to cry with joy! In fact, at that moment, he leans over the counter and gives Sans a big hug. You find yourself wondering how much the bag actually weighs. You look up that to do the math, and find yourself wondering how the hell anyone was able to lift that thing, and how it wasn't breaking the counter. Grillby attempts to gently scoot it off the counter without breaking or damaging anything, but to no avail.“need help?” Sans asks. Grillby nods. Sans raises his hand, and it and the bag start to faintly glow a light blue. The bag lifts into the air, and gently sets itself down on the ground behind the bar. Well, that explains how Sans was able to hold it. After you've set down all the orders for customers, you walk over to Sans and Papyrus, who each have a drink. Sans obviously has ketchup, and Papyrus just has water.“So, why'd you decide to come with Sans this time, Papyrus?” you ask, smiling a bit.“OH, WELL, UH, SANS ASKED ME TO COME, AND I DIDN'T HAVE A GOOD ENOUGH EXCUSE NOT TO THIS TIME,” he says, holding his drink with both hands.“riiiight,” Sans says, a little sarcastically. “and by i asked you, you deeeefinitely don't mean you asked to come.”“SANS!” Papyrus says defiantly, a bit of orange dusting his bony cheeks.“aw, come on, isn't it my job as your older bro to embarrass you?”“WELL, YOU SEEM TO ENJOY SLACKING OFF FOR YOUR OTHER JOBS, SO WHY NOT THAT ONE!”“Wait, Sans is the OLDER brother?” you ask, a little confused. Sans bursts out in laughter.“yup!” he finally says. “by five years! my growth was a little stunned, but papyrus shot up like a beanstalk!”“You don't say!” you chuckle. “And, well, whatever your real reason for coming, Papyrus, you should still come more often. Sans seems even happier than usual with you here!” You hear the bell above the door jingle, and you prepare to take the new customer’s order.After about an hour, Sans and Papyrus finally get up to leave. Before they go, however, you remember you wanted to ask Sans some questions about the Gaster Blaster, and about the Doctor it was named after. You quickly tap on his shoulder.“hm?” Sans says, turning around to face you. “what do you need?”“After I'm done with work, I'd like to ask you a few questions regarding the blasters,” you say in a hushed tone. “And… about the guy they're named after. Gaster. Your dad, I think.”Sans stares in surprised silence before asking, “how do you know that name?” Before you can answer, he says, “nevermind, just… call my number the minute you finish work.” His tone is hushed and dead serious. He pulls out a notepad and a pen and writes down his number, then gives it to you. “the minute you finish work,” he repeats, then leaves. You stuff his number in your pocket and get back to work, wondering if you said something wrong.Hours pass, and you finally finish work. You wave goodbye to Grillby as you exit the front door. As you get in your car, you remember what Sans told you to do once you finished work. You pull out the number he wrote down for you and dial it on your phone. He almost immediately picks up.“sans here,” he says over the phone.“Hey, it's me,” you say. “You told me to call you after I finished work?”“where are you right now?” he asks.“Well, I just got in my car, so I'm still in the parking lot by Grillby's-”“do you want me to meet you there or at your place?”“Huh? Oh, um, I guess it’d probably be better for you to meet me at my place-”“great. see you there.” He hangs up. A little confused, you tap the 'end call' button, and start up you car.It's pretty dark out, and you almost don't see sans standing by the entrance to your apartment building. You park your car in your normal spot, and get out to meet up with him. He flips down his hood as you get closer to show he's definitely a skeleton, and not just a weird short guy wearing a hoodie and standing in front of your apartment building like a creep.“Should we go inside before we start talking?” you ask. Sans nods, and you lead him inside and up to your apartment. As always, Bones is excited to see you the moment you walk in. You toss it a geode and lead Sans over to a chair as Bones crunches happily on it.“it eats geodes?” Sans asks.“Apparently,” you say. “Only thing it seems to want to eat. You want anything to eat or drink? I've got ketchup.”“yeah, ketchup would be nice,” he says, sitting down. You grab a bottle of unopened ketchup, and a bottle of uncaffeinated ice tea. You hand Sans the ketchup as you sit down.“thanks,” he says, taking the bottle. “so, before you start asking questions, i've got one of my own to ask.” He sits forward in his seat. “how. the hell. do you know his name.”“Huh?” you say, unscrewing the cap off your ice tea. “You mean Gaster? I read it in a book.”“how? that should be physically impossible.”“Bones breathed on it, and his name just… appeared.”“... you're telling me, that you have been able to do something that i have been trying to figure out how to do for twenty years, because your pet breathed on it?”“I-... Twenty?” you ask, shocked. “How old are you?”“i'm twenty-eight.”“You've been trying to do this since you were eight?”“ever since he disappeared, yes.”“... He disappeared twenty years ago?“in three months and four days, it will be exactly.”“How do you remember this?”“the same way i remember resets.”“What do you mean by resets?”“resets in time.”“Wh-... Well how do you remember those?!”“no clue. i just do. so does papyrus, but… he just thinks they're nightmares.”“Well, does he remember Gaster, too?”“no, he was too young to properly remember. he was only three at the time.”“Oh… Were you raised by your mom then?”“she died when papyrus was born. i had to raise him by myself.” You both fall silent. You never could have guessed that they were orphans, or that they never even got Foster parents. No wonder Sans's growth was stunted. He probably sacrificed his own health for Papyrus's. You break the silence again.“There's a strange gem in Bones's sternum,” you say. “It looks kind of like a white upside down heart, and it glows whenever I touch it.”“... it… it has a soul?” Bones sits down in front of both of you and proudly presents its chest. It's gem glitters a little in the light.“Is it normal to look like a crystal?”“for skeletons it is… i'm not so sure about other monsters, though.” Sans unzips his jacket and lifts up his shirt. A much larger version of the gem Bones has also lays imbedded in Sans's sternum. It's kind of cool and also kind of terrifying to watch. It's kind of weird how you forgot he's an actual skeleton with a spine and ribcage and absolutely no flesh at all. He puts his shirt back down and zips up his jacket again.“Well, um, you also have the blasters, right?”“yeah. what about it?”“Well, are they as powerful as your dad's?”“nope. nowhere near.”“Have you ever used them to their full extent?”“yeah, but they're pretty useless unless you've got extremely bad karma.”“What's that supposed to mean?”“i've got ‘karmic leech’. that pretty much means that the worse of a person you are, the more of your health my attacks will sap out. it's the only way i can actually have a fair chance in a fight.”“Does Papyrus have it too?”“nah. he doesn't need it. he's strong enough to do good on his own. strong enough to not die in one hit either.”“... What…?”“i'm so weak, stubbing my toe too hard could send me to the hospital, or worse.” He chuckles light-heartedly. Never a good sign.“Well, are Papyrus's as strong as your dad's?”“i don't plan on finding out anytime soon, seeing what happened to dad and four other monsters when he tried to find the limit. that was when i was about four, i think. i remember that it was before papyrus was born.”“Ah, right.”“don't tell me you know about that too.”“I read it in the same book I read his name in.”“did you use bones for that too?”“I didn't have to. It's written right here for everyone to see.” You pick up your copy of 'Summoned Weapons For Beginners', flip to the last page, and hand it to Sans. He reads the page with intensity, then looks up from the book at Bones.“so, it made the missing words appear by breathing on it?” he asks“Yeah,” you say. “Wanna test it out?” You stand up and gently pick up Bones. You bring it over to Sans and place it on his lap, in front of the book.“Okay Bones, blow on it.” Bones presses its face against the paper and breathes. The blanks fill themselves in. ‘Dr W. D. Gaster’ appears in one of them.“holy stars…” Sans mumbles.“What does W. D. stand for?” you ask.“wingdings… wingdings gaster…”“He was named Wingdings?”“can i take you and bones somewhere for a bit? i need to test this on something else.”“Uh, sure. I guess.” And with that, he immediately stands up, holding Bones, and grabs your arm. Before you know it, you're in an entirely different place. A small lab.“Wha-... Where are we?” you stutter.“the underground, in the secret lab behind my old house,” Sans says, rustling through some drawers. He pulls out some blank sheets of paper. “c’mere, bones. breathe on this.” He holds a paper up to Bones's snout. Bones breathes on the paper, and strange symbols appear on it. “holy stars it works,” Sans says breathlessly.“What do those symbols mean?” you ask as the symbols disappear again.“they're in his code,” he explains. “wingdings.”“Wait, you mean he wrote on that?”“yeah. i've got all his hand-written notes from when he first became the royal scientist to the day he disappeared. even his diary that he had kept since he was ten or something. i've never been able to read it until now, though.”“Hey, um, do you know exactly why Bones became, well, alive?”“yep. same thing happened with my dad and mom back when he first made the gaster blasters. it means whoever summoned the blaster wants to stay with you forever. that's why it's so loyal to you and has its own soul. it's actually made from papyrus's own soul and deepest desires. same happened to me too when i summoned my blaster in front of my girlfriend. that ended up being a fun date. and i don't even mean that sarcastically.” You feel your face get a little warm. It means he wants to stay with you forever. You lose your train of thought when Sans suddenly summons a Gaster Blaster. He makes it breathe on the page he's holding, but to no avail.“Does your blaster not do the trick?” you ask.“apparently not,” Sans sighs. “let's try as a blaster dragon. c'mon, let's go outside. this room isn't big enough for a full sized blaster dragon.” He de-summons the Blaster and opens the only door in the lab. A sudden rush of cold air catches you by surprise. It's spring on the surface, and you're wearing light clothes.“H-how is it s-so c-cold?” you shiver.“oh, shoot, sorry, i forgot things with flesh feel temperature change,” Sans says, taking off his coat. “yeah, we're in snowdin. it's always cold here. sorry, i forgot to mention that.” He hands you his coat. It strongly smells of ketchup, but it's not the worst thing something could smell like. A confused expression crosses your face as you watch Sans take off his slippers too, just before you remember your bare feet. You thank Sans and put both the coat and slippers on.As you step out onto the snow, you find yourself filled with awe and wonder. The winter wonderland before you is like none you've ever seen. Light from an unknown source glistens off of the crisp snow, as snowflakes from the stone sky above drift slowly down to form a crisp new layer of ice. Sans leads you over to the front of the building you were just in the secret lab of. The house looks so big, so warm, so welcoming.Sans stops in front of it and summons another Gaster Blaster. However, this time, he puts a little more magic into it, and it forms a giant skeletal Blaster Dragon. He holds the piece of paper up to the blaster's snout, and it lets out a huff of air. Nothing. Sans grumbles in frustration as he de-summons his Blaster Dragon. He notices you looking at the house.“you like it, huh?” he asks. “that's where papyrus and i used to live. our dad, too.”“Did you grow up here?” you ask.“nah, we grew up in hotland,” he says. “dad moved us there after mom died. he told us she had always wanted to go there, so it'd be the perfect place to spread her dust. did it right by the core, too.”“Hotland? Dust? Core? Sorry for being an ignorant human, but, what?” Sans let's out an amused sigh.“it's fine. i'll try to explain. you see, when monsters die, their body turns to dust. their dust is then scattered over the things they live the most. however, it is frowned upon to sprinkle their dust upon their loved ones. hotland is one of the three regions of the underground. the other two regions are snowdin, and waterfall. the core is, well, the core of the underground. it's located inside hotland at used to be the place that provided power for the entire underground by converting geothermal energy into electrical energy to be used at a monster's convince.”“Oh. Neat. Do you think you could bring me to the other places?”Sans lets out a hearty laugh. “it's literally 10:45, and you probably have work tomorrow. not tonight. i should probably just bring you back to your apartment and be on my way.” You sigh and shrug, accepting that as a living being, you require sleep. Sans gently picks up Bones again, who has fallen asleep, and grabs onto your hand before teleporting into your apartment.You return Sans's jacket and slippers, and say goodnight as he leaves. You let out a big yawn as you shuffle off to your bedroom. Old questions have been answered, new ones have been formed. However, one thought lingers in your mind as Bones gently climbs onto your stomach as you lie in bed, and clings onto your thoughts as you slowly drift to sleep:‘Whoever summoned the blaster wants to stay with you forever. Papyrus summoned yours.’ ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- It's been a week since Papyrus started coming to Grillby's regularly, and a week since your tour of the entire Underground began. Every day, Sans and Papyrus come in, and you talk to Papyrus in your free time. Every evening after work, Sans comes over to borrow you and Bones, and you spend an hour or so in the Underground, reappearing and translating Dr Gaster's notes. You've also started bringing a sandwich along, since you rarely eat before going down into the Underground. In the one week you've been doing this, you've learned so much about the Monsters’ history. You've learned about the War, the time before it, the events after it that very gradually lead to the Monsters becoming freed from the Underground. However, there were a few details that Sans has refused to elaborate on, such as the first child to fall, and the soulless creature that called itself ‘Flowey’. Though it was ridiculous to think so, it seemed as if these two beings had a negative effect towards him personally. His eyes always darkened to black sockets whenever he had to talk about one or the other or even both. But, well, you got a majority of the history of the Monsters. One evening, while passing through Waterfall, you notice a door in the wall that looks out of place.“Hey Sans, where does this-” you say, but stop when you realize Sans isn't even there. Small thoughts echo in your head, not telling you to do anything, but… suggesting. Suggesting you open the door. Cautiously, glancing around, you move closer to the door. You carefully grab the handle and turn it. The door opens up to a small white room. In the center of the room, a large mass of semi-liquid black sits. It seems to be moving slightly, as if it's breathing. Against your better judgement, you step into the room, slowly approaching the mass of black goo.“Um,” you say, unsure if what you're doing is wise. “H-hello?”A part of the goo on the other side perks up. A round, white object lifts a little on the other side of the mass of goo, which now seems to be turning up at the bottom like solid smoke. The mass of goo begins to turn. You stumble back, terrified. The round white object seems to be a head, and it has finally turned all the way to face you. It's right eye socket is crescent shaped, and reminds you on a closed eye, while it's left eye socket has a dim light at the very center. The part where you assume the mouth sits is shaped like a carved smile, while two large cracks sit connecting the mouth to the bottom of the left eye socket, and the center of the right eye socket to the top of the head. Two skeletal-like hands with holes in the strangely solid centers of each come out of the goo. After a moment of contemplating whether or not to run, you realize that for some reason the dim light prick in the center of it's left eye socket is strangely familiar to you. It takes you another moment to realize that whatever this thing is, it's scared. Carefully, you step closer. You recognize the position of the cracks from a drawing of someone that Sans showed you. Trembling, you ask the simple question.“... Are you… Dr. Gaster…?”All of a sudden, the creature of black goo moves away from you and disappears. A piece of paper gently falls to the ground where the creature was. Curious, you go over to the piece of paper and pick it up. It's a picture of three skeletons: one-baby sized one with a tall and bright smile, one young child-sized one with a big smile and brilliant white eye specks, and an adult male sized one, wearing a labcoat, a gray turtleneck, and glasses, who had a giant hole in the solid center of his visible hand, and two cracks in his face, one of them connecting to the center of his crescent-shaped right socket.You exit the room, still holding the picture. You hear the door slam behind you, but when you turn around to see what closed it, the door is gone. You hear Sans calling out for you, and you spot him around the corner.“where’ve you been?” he asks, a mix of mild annoyance and mild amusement in his eyes.“There was a door,” you say, pointing back to the now blank wall. “You disappeared after I saw it, so I went in.” You think for a moment, glancing at the picture in your hand again. “… I think I found your dad.” Sans’s eye lights turn to tiny pricks of light. You hold out the picture, and he practically runs up to you and snatches it out of your hand. His hands tremble as he stares at the picture.“… h-how did you…” he stutters, pale blue liquid beginning to drip from his sockets, where his eye pricks are beginning to tremble and flicker.“I think that whatever happened to him altered him a lot,” you say, a little quietly. “The… I feel like using the word ‘thing’ is insensitive and maybe somewhat racist, so, um, the ‘monster’ I got that from only vaguely looked like the adult in that picture.”“what do you mean?”“I mean that whoever or whatever I encountered in that room was literally made of black goo and some solid parts, like what I assume was a skull and hands.”“i… how could…” Sans seemed lost in his thoughts. He’s trembling so much now that he looks like he could collapse at any second. Instead, he suddenly grabs onto your waist (so short) and hugs you tightly. “thank you,” he mumbles through sobs. You finally realize why he’s so emotional about this one picture. Twenty years. It’s been twenty years since he last saw his dad’s face.The night after encountering Gaster, you have a strange dream. It starts off with a blinding light and a sense of falling, then it turns to pure darkness and a feeling of pure weightlessness. You call out for help, but nobody comes. You try to grab onto something, but there is nothing around you. You cry out again. You’re suddenly devoid of all senses. You can’t breathe, but you’re not suffocating. You stare at your hands. They’re made of bone, with solid bases where the fingers and wrists are attached. There are huge holes in them. You’re wearing a labcoat. It’s turning black. A picture floats out of your pocket. You’re suddenly filled with panic. Your sons. You try to grab the picture, not wanting it to float away. Your hand floats away from your arm. You’re melting. You reach the picture finally, grabbing it. The joints in your fingers have melted together. The only thing about your hand you can recognize is that awful hole. Your body has turned completely black. Your face won’t move. You’re terrified. You have to get out of here. You have to find your sons. Their mother… they’re all alone… you can’t… you can’t leave them alone…! You can’t leave them! You call out their names. Sans. Papyrus. You feel tears trickling from your sockets. You suddenly feel something that was once connected suddenly disconnect. You suddenly realize what that means. You, Doctor Wingdings Gaster, do not exist.“Sans…” you whisper into the void, becoming one with the nothingness. “… Please… take care of your brother…”You wake up with a start. You sit up in your bed, clutching your chest. Your heart is beating a mile a minute, and it feels like a sledgehammer pounding at the inside of your chest. You look over at the clock. 2:30 A.M. You sigh, rubbing your eyes. You look around the dark room. Bones is sleeping on top of you, unbothered by your sudden movement. You notice one of the corners in your room is much darker than the rest of them. You carefully and silently get out of bed, carefully sliding out from under Bones and being careful not to wake it. You quietly tiptoe over to the corner in your oversized T-shirt and baggy yoga pants that you use as pajamas, and you reach out to touch the strangely solid-looking darkness. You shiver as you feel something solid and slimy, but you don’t retract your hand. The darkness shivers back, then recoils. After a second or two, a strange white hand with a hole in the center emerges from the darkness. It cautiously touches your still-outstretched hand, flinches back, then touches it again, this time carefully grabbing onto it. It’s cold, like ice. You inhale shakily but slowly.“… Doctor Wingdings Gaster?” you ask. The hand phases through yours, and it recoils back into the shadows.His strange round head that almost doesn't look real here appears. Somehow, you get the feeling of him speaking to you, but you don’t hear a thing. You reach forward again to touch the side of his face. He suddenly recoils, terrified of your touch. He has no expressions and you cannot hear his words, but you know that he’s terrified and you know it's of your touch. How you know, may forever be a mystery. He has been deprived of feeling for twenty years. Those twenty years that seemed like a thousand to him. A single word echoes in your head as he suddenly vanishes. Core.… You quickly go over to your phone and call Sans. He answers almost immediately. He was awake.“sans here,” he says.“I need you to take me to the core,” you tell him.“why’s that?” he asks. “isn’t it, like, two or something in the morning?”“Two fifty-six, and I just feel like I need to go to the core. I think something about your dad should be there.”“where do you want me to meet you?” Sans says, his tone suddenly dead serious.“In my apartment, the main room,” you say, going over to your dresser and pulling out a pair of clean pants and a shirt. “I’ll meet you in there once I’m dressed.”You hang up and set your phone down, pulling off your makeshift pajamas and starting to get dressed. Bones has woken up, and is staring at you and tilting its head.“You wanna come along, Bones?” you ask your magical bone dragon pet. It stands up, yawning. You assume that means yes.You quickly slide on some sandals and you lift up your arm. Bones flies up and perches on your arm, then adjusts itself to be on your shoulders. It lies down there and falls asleep. You put your arm down and go over to the door, opening it. Sans is standing by the opposite wall, his arms crossed and his eye-pricks focused down on the ground. His permanent smile seems fake. The moment you exit your room, he looks up. He then wordlessly walks over to you, grabs your arm, and you both vanish.You squint as you’re suddenly surrounded by light. You blink a few times as your eyes adjust, then look around. You see a dark figure at the end of a hall, silhouetted by the bright light behind it. It turns, then starts walking down another way. You quickly start following after, trying to reach the figure. Sans follows close behind, determined to know why you needed to come here. As you turn the corner in the direction the figure went, you just barely see the figure going through a hidden door on the far end of the hallway. You quickly run over to where the figure you saw go in, and you see a wall. You stare at it, trying to find a way to open the hidden door. Sans watches you curiously and with confusion, as you feel around the wall. You suddenly notice that one light among the rest on the wall looks slightly darker. You press the light, discovering that it’s actually a button. The section of the wall retracts and moves out of the way, revealing a secret passageway. Sans stares in disbelief and shock.“how did you know that was there?” he asks. You merely shrug and enter the much darker area. You walk through dimly lit winding passageways, following footsteps only you can hear. The heat is becoming unbearable, but you try to ignore it.You soon enter a huge room with a huge white circle in the center of the floor covered by glass. There is a large hole in the glass where something broke through. There aren’t any shards of glass around it. Whatever broke the glass fell through it on this side. The pricks of light in Sans’s eyes suddenly go out. He dashes over to the bright circle, kneeling beside the edge and staring at the break in the glass. There is a clipboard next to the hole, and a piece of white fabric hanging off of one of the sharp points. Sans gently levitates both the clipboard and the piece of fabric over to him, grasping both tight as he stares at them intensely. He lifts up the top piece of paper on the clipboard and looks under it. He starts to tremble. You look over his shoulder at the piece of paper under the first. It looks like a drawing in crayon of a family. The name “sans” is scrawled crookedly in the lower left hand corner. The s’s are backwards. Gaster was carrying that. He had dropped it as he fell. That piece of fabric must be a piece of his lab coat.Gaster fell into the core.A dark figure fades into view. It gently places a hand on Sans’s shoulder, but the hand phases through. The figure stares at his hand, which appears to have a hole in it. The silhouette of his sleeve looks like a piece tore off at some point. Your eyes well up with tears, but they only seem to come from your left eye. You reach up to wipe away your tears, but when you pull your hand away you find it dry.Bones climbs off of your shoulders (you forgot it was there) and it jumps down to the floor. It walks over to the silhouetted figure and bites its coat. Surprised, the figure looks down at Bones. You walk over, noticing the fabric bones has latched onto has turned white. Bones whimpers, attracting the attention of Sans. He suddenly stands up, staring at the spot where Bones is tugging. He slowly reaches out and tries to grab a sleeve, but his hand phases right through. The figure looks disheartened. Sans pauses, then kneels down to Bones and tries to grab the fabric he can see. His hand doesn’t phase through this time.“… dad…?” he asks quietly. The figure kneels down, petting Bones. His hand turns white where he touches Bones. An ethereal voice echoes through the room, though only you can hear.'… I’m so sorry, Sans…' the voice echoes. '… I’m so so sorry… My eldest son… I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Sans… It was all my fault… It was my fault you were so alone… It was my fault you remember the resets… It was my fault she died… It was all my fault… I’m so sorry, son… I…'The figure stops as he realizes his words cannot be heard by Sans. He then turns to you. You suddenly feel the pressure to be Gaster’s only line of communication to Sans. You sigh and nod.“… I can hear him, Sans,” you tell Sans. Sans suddenly looks up at you. And now you feel even more pressure since more people are now expecting you to come through with being Gaster’s method of communication.“well?” Sans says, melancholy impatience fueling the pricks of light in his sockets. “what’d he say?” You take a deep breath, and relay the message to the best of your ability.For the next couple hours, you help Sans and his dad talk. The conversation only stops when you fall asleep (since it’s four or five in the morning). The next thing you know, you’re waking up fully dressed in your bed at 8:30 in the morning to the sound of your phone’s alarm. You’re bone tired (pun intended), and Bones seems to share your sentiment. You still decide to get up and get ready for work. Exhausted or not, you love working at Grillby’s, and you’d hate to skip a day of work there because you didn’t get enough sleep. Besides, if you don’t go to work today, you’ll have less of a chance of seeing Papyrus, since he seems to almost always be busy with something. You HAVE to get his daily schedule at some point.You are suddenly met by Papyrus and Sans just outside your apartment building. You know already without Sans telling you. He told Papyrus about what happened. Judging by Papyrus's expression (which he can somehow have despite literally being a skeleton), he wants to speak with his father too. You look over at Sans, and he nods. You nod back. You then offer your arm, and Sans grabs hold. The three of you are now back in the room from last night (this morning?). The silhouette is still there. He's happy.'Papyrus… you've grown so much…' he says, quietly. You relay the message. You quickly text Grillby, saying you don't think you'll be able to make it to work today. Somehow, this seems more important to you. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- On your days off work, you’ve mostly been helping the skelebros talk to their long-lost technically-non-existent father. After one of said talks, you got Papyrus’s schedule. Or rather, he asked for yours. He also asked you if you like puzzles. Obviously, you had to answer truthfully. Your answer was you absolutely love puzzles of all kinds. Your heart almost couldn’t handle the precious sparkle of pure elation in his sockets after telling him that. That was just yesterday, so since today is a work day, you haven’t been able to hang out with him yet.The work day starts out normal with everyone greeting when you come in. When you get near the bar is when the problem starts.“Buddy, you’re literally insulting the main group this establishment caters to,” the duck monster that always sits at the bar who speaks for Grillby says to a drunk male human. “And the owner. I think you gotta leave.”“Well, th’ flamin’ fffucker can tell me that ‘imself, can’t ‘e?” the drunk man slurs.“Grilbz doesn’t talk much, so no, I don’t think he even really wants to,” the monster replies. She then turns to Grillby. “Hey Grillby, you wanna talk to this drunk bum?” Grillby flickers in a way you have come to learn as his way of saying no. “Well there you go. He doesn’t wanna talk to you.”“What, so yer’ too good f’r me, eh?” the drunk man says. “Bah, all yous monsters are th’ same, takin’ up all th’ good jobs an’ actin’ like yer’ better than us.” He sounds strangely familiar, but you don’t exactly remember why. Well, regardless, you still start to walk up to him. This has to stop.“……………………………………………………………… Get out,” Grillby said, surprising almost everyone around him, including you.“An’ ‘e decides t’ speak!” the drunk man exclaims, swirling his glass of water.“Buddy, you better actually get out,” the duck monster says. “Grillby barely EVER talks. If he’s talkin’ to you, then that means he is one hundred percent serious about this.”“i’mma have to support that statement,” Sans says. Damn, you hadn’t actually noticed him there. His unmistakable blue coat should’ve made him super visible. “grilbz never talks if he doesn’t feel he absolutely has to. you seriously gotta leave. we don’t want anyone getting hurt.” The drunk man growls.“I’ll show you hurt,” he mumbles, gripping his glass of water. Something in you clicks as he lifts it up and prepares to splash the water at Grillby. Grillby, who is made of fire. Water + Grillby = very very bad.“NO DON’T!!” you exclaim, lunging forward as the man flings the water.The next thing you hear is the sound of fire being doused, the sound of a glass breaking as you yank the man away from the bar, and a horrible smokey scream of pain like no other erupt from Grillby. People stand up quickly and exclaim with surprise and shock at the piercing sound Grillby had made. You see Sans hop over the counter and aid Grillby, who has fallen to the floor and is currently whimpering in pain. You finally look at the face of the man, and your blood goes cold. He’s your ex. He blinks a few times, then smiles.“Well well well, ‘s been a while, eh?” he says.“Get out of here, I’m calling the cops,” you hiss at him, doing your best to stay brave. You pull out your phone and pull up the call screen. He yanks the phone out of your hand and grabs your wrist.“Nah, hon, that won’t be necessary,” he slurs, smiling lazily and staring at you with half-lidded eyes. “Look, I wan’ned t’ talk t’ ya, ‘n appologize f’r bein’ an asshole t’ ya.”“Let me go!” you say, struggling to get out of his grip. His hold on you only tightens. It hurts.“I’m jus’ tryin’ t’ apologize t’ ya!” he says, pulling you closer to him. “Please take me back, babe.”“Don’t call me that, you… you…” you say, trying to come up with an insult.“What, monster?” he chuckles. You slap him, stunning him.“Don’t even DARE compare yourself to those wonderful kind people,” you hiss, yanking at your arm and trying to break free. Even when he’s stunned, he’s too strong.Some of the dog monsters nearby get up, growling. The door suddenly opens and a bone flings at your ex’s head. He exclaims in pain and lets go of your wrist, also dropping your phone to the floor. You look over at the door, and stare. Papyrus stands there, gripping a large bone in his right hand, his eye sockets glowing bright orange with a furious rage. He lifts his hand and points his palm at your ex. He then suddenly swings his hand down. Your ex falls to the ground, turning slightly blue. You glance over at Sans on the other side of you with Grillby, and you see he’s holding his cellphone in one of his trembling hands.‘He must’ve called Papyrus,’ you think to yourself. When you turn back to look at Papyrus, he has marched up to your ex and has now lifted him up by the collar.“WE MAY BE CALLED MONSTERS, BUT YOU ARE THE REAL MONSTER,” he says, his glowing sockets overflowing with bright orange anger. “YOU ARE TO NEVER RETURN HERE EVER AGAIN, YOU ARE TO NEVER HARM ANY MONSTERS AGAIN, YOU ARE TO NEVER SHOW YOUR UGLY DRUNK FACE TO HER EVER AGAIN.” He gestures to you. Your ex looks like he wants to make a retort, but he also looks like he’s about to wet himself. Another person bursts through the door.“Police!!!” the one-eyed angry fish-woman that just entered shouts. She then stares at Papyrus in surprise as he brings your ex over to her.“THIS MAN ASSAULTED GRILLBY AND HURT HER,” he says, gesturing to you. You lift up your wrist a bit, rubbing the large bruise that has formed. “SANS CALLED ME HERE TO HELP GRILLBY. PLEASE MAKE SURE THIS MAN IS NOT LET OFF EASY, UNDYNE.” The fish woman (whom you assume is named Undyne) blinks a few times, then sighs and nods.“I’ll make sure of it,” she says. You notice she has an eyepatch over her left eye. She takes a pair of handcuffs off of her belt and she turns your ex around, handcuffing his hands behind his back. “You are under arrest for the unprovoked assault of a human waitress and the unprovoked assault and life endangerment of a monster bartender. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in court.” She walks him out of the restaurant.Within minutes, almost everyone has cleared out of the building. All that remain inside are you, Sans, Papyrus, and of course, Grillby. Sans helps Grillby up, and you finally see the full extent of the damage done. The whole left side of Grillby’s face has been doused, and bits of the charred black base beneath where his flames were are crumbling away.“hurry pap, he’s dusting!” Sans says, carefully hurrying Grillby over to Papyrus. Without missing a beat, Papyrus takes off both of his gloves and presses his bony hands on either side of Grillby’s face. His hands glow a faint orange. Cracks in Grillby’s black base begin to glow a bright red-orange, and he seems to be in significantly less pain. After a minute or two, Papyrus takes away his hands.“ALRIGHT, THAT’S ALL I CAN DO HERE,” he says, putting his gloves back on. “SANS, TAKE HIM TO THE NEAREST HOSPITAL THAT TREATS MONSTERS. MAKE SURE HE GETS TREATMENT QUICKLY. HE’LL NEED AT LEAST A NIGHT OF REST AND REKINDLING.” Sans nods, then he and Grillby vanish. Papyrus then turns to you. “ARE YOU ALRIGHT, HUMAN?”“Yeah…” you say, rubbing your bruised wrist.“MAY I?” he asks, starting to take a glove off again. He looks exhausted, and his voice seems a little quieter than usual. You shake your head.“Thanks, but I’ll live,” you say, giving Papyrus a little smile. “It’s just a bruise, I’ll be alright.” You think for a moment, then your smile disappears. “… Does “dusting” mean what I think it means for monsters…?” you ask, a little quietly. Papyrus solemnly nods.“… WE USUALLY JUST SAY THEY’VE “FALLEN DOWN,” BUT I GUESS THE REALISM YOU HUMANS SEEM TO ENJOY USING EVERYWHERE HAS GOTTEN TO SOME MONSTERS…” he says sadly.“Do you think Grillby will be okay?” you ask.“WELL, AS LONG AS HE IS TREATED BY SOMEONE WHO KNOWS HOW TO TREAT MONSTERS,” he sighs. “IF THAT SHALL BE THE CASE, THEN YES, I THINK HE WILL BE OKAY.” After a few moments of silence, you hug Papyrus. Despite being a skeleton, he’s surprisingly comfortable to hug.“… Thank you, Papyrus,” you say, your face buried in his chest. It occurs to you that he’s really fucking tall, which makes Sans’s height a lot funnier and sadder at the same time.After a few moments, you feel his bony arms slowly wrap around you. You glance up, and notice his cheekbones are kinda orange. You sorta forgot that’s how skeletons blush. You smile a little and bury your face in his chest again._-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-You sit alone at home, Bones on your lap, a good book in your hands. You gently pet Bones’s head, listening to it purring as you read your book. You suddenly stop and look down at Bones as it starts whimpering. You set down your book and lift Bones up, inspecting it. Its front right leg falls off, startling you. Your first immediate thought is that Bones is dying, then you see the soul-gem on its sternum is glowing a feint orange. Your second immediate thought is that something is wrong with Papyrus. You pick up Bones’s leg and try to reattach it to Bones. It’s not working. Bones’s eye lights start glowing orange, and it continues to whimper. You pick up bones, slide on your sandals, then leave your apartment.“Tell me where to go, Bones,” you say once you’re outside the building. Some humans nearby give you strange looks, but you ignore them.Bones points its snout in a direction, and you go that way. You don’t actually know if Bones knows where Papyrus is, but you feel you should just trust the magical tiny skeleton dragon that is probably connected to the magical tall skeleton man that created it.You walk quickly for a long while, Bones guiding you the whole way. The longer you walk, the worse Bones gets. At one point, the leg that fell off of Bones even snaps right in half at its equivalent of the ulna in a human skeleton. That’s when you find out it can feel pain, even if the hurt limb isn’t even connected to it. You know, because it screams in pain. You break out into a run, continuing to follow Bones’s directions.You reach a park. There’s a skeletal arm on the ground. It’s broken at the ulna. The hand has a red glove on it. It’s still twitching a little. You quickly pick it up, carefully stuffing Bones’s leg into your pocket and placing Bones on your shoulders and holding the two pieces of broken bone on the arm together. You hear a crack by your ear. One of Bones’s ribs has broken. The break is uncomfortably close to its sternum. You sprint in the direction Bones points you in next. You soon come across a small group of people kicking someone on the ground. You can barely see a skeleton huddled over something blue in between the kicking people. You’re suddenly filled with an anger like no other. You set Bones and the arm down gently, then you pick up a rock and throw it as hard as you can. It hits one of the people right in the head. The person shouts in pain and the others stop to look at them. They all then turn to you. You pick up a few more rocks.“Get away from him, you brainless pieces of worthless garbage!!!” you exclaim. You throw the two rocks you’ve got at them. The group makes its way over to you.Panicking, you pick up one of a few stray bones you find lying around and you grip it like a baseball bat. You assume the bones are from Papyrus (or Sans?) defending himself. You also can’t help but wonder why he stopped protecting himself. Your train of thought is cut short when one of the members of the group of thugs picks up a bone as well and swings it at your head. You quickly dodge, trying to swing the large bone you have at the guy’s legs. You feel it connect, and you hear a cry of pain above you. You exclaim in pain as you feel a hard boot connect with your back, and you fall over. You swing the bone around blindly, trying to hit something. You feel the bone yanked away from you as the group surrounds you and starts kicking you. You suddenly hear an animalistic cry, then the sound of a laser beam. You then hear yelling and cursing and heavy footsteps as the group runs away. You slowly get up, bruised and maybe concussed, and you head over to Papyrus without another moment of hesitation.He’s still hunched over something, but you can now see what that “something” actually is. Sans is very still beneath Papyrus, uncomfortably so. You realize Papyrus is healing him with his one available gloveless hand, which tells you why he wasn’t fighting back. You remember what Sans had told you when you learned he and Papyrus were orphans. Even stubbing his toe could hospitalize him. Papyrus is trying to save his brother’s life. Bones brings Papyrus’s broken arm over to him and helps him reattach it. Despite the broken state of his arm, Papyrus bears through the pain and pulls off his other glove and heals Sans with both hands. You notice a little bit of dust on Sans’s coat. You quickly pull out your phone, and dial 911.Within minutes of your call, the first officer parkours into view. It’s the fish woman from earlier, Undyne. She dashes over to Sans and Papyrus and pulls out what looks like a green juicebox.“Can he drink?” she asks Papyrus.“… he’s not moving…” Papyrus says, unnervingly quietly.“Can you help me make him drink at least?” Undyne asks, kneeling next to Papyrus and placing a hand on his shoulder. “He needs something at the very least. If we need any extreme measures, I can get Alphys to inject him with a controlled amount of D.T.”Papyrus remains silent. His energy seems to be running out, since the orange glow coming from his hands seems to be fading.“… Drink the Sea Tea, Papyrus,” Undyne says, offering Papyrus the juicebox. “If you’re gonna be healing him constantly, you need the energy.” Papyrus sighs, sitting up and nodding.You watch as Undyne helps him drink the “Sea Tea,” which ends up looking extremely strange. You then watch with awe as his broken arm suddenly fixes itself, and his orange glow suddenly brighten considerably. Bones’s broken front leg also mends, and so does its broken rib and several other small fractures. Whatever that weird “Tea” stuff is, it MUST be magical.Several minutes later, an ambulance and some police cars arrive. Some paramedics, both monster and human, help Papyrus (cradling Sans) into the ambulance. A few police officers, mostly human ones, come to you and ask what had happened. You explain what you saw and what you did to help, and you try to describe the people who attacked to the best of your ability. After a while, Undyne approaches you and the rest of the officers questioning you leave.“You did a brave thing here,” she said, looking at you directly in the eyes. “Kinda stupid, but brave, and ultimately something that possibly saved Papyrus’s life at least. We’re hoping Sans too, but we really don’t know just yet. And if I’m being honest here… I don’t really think Sans is strong enough to last through this.” She looks down, crossing her arms.“… Is there something I can do to help…?” you find yourself asking. Undyne chuckles.“You’ve already helped a lot, which is pretty obvious by your excessive number of bruises and the fact that Papyrus is alive,” she says, smiling slightly. “Unless you can find whatever powerful monster made those two, especially Papyrus, I don’t think there’s really much more you can do.”“Well… what if I do find him?” you ask, thinking of Dr. Gaster.“It’s not gonna happen,” Undyne sighs. “The only person who has “claimed” to see them is the ambassador of monsters, and they’re probably not going to be able to do anything about getting them back anytime soon.” Your eyes widen a bit.“The ambassador of monsters saw him?” you ask. Undyne lifts an eyebrow.“Yeah, or at least something that kind of looked like a monster nobody knew about,” she responds. “I guess you could ask them about what they know, but I doubt you’ll get much info, especially if you don’t know sign language.”“… If you don’t mind me asking… where does the ambassador live?” you ask. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- You knock on the front door, and wait. After a few moments, a large and friendly goat monster opens the door.“Oh hello!” she says, smiling as she looks down at you. “What brings you to our humble home?”“Um, I heard the Ambassador of Monsters lives here…?” you ask, a little tiny bit intimidated by her. “Uh… are… are you them…?”“Ohoho my no,” the monster laughs. “I am merely their mother, Toriel. Frisk is inside. Might I ask why you are looking for them?”“I just really need to talk to them,” you say, fiddling with your sleeves. How old even is the Ambassador to be living with their mother? “It’s a life-or-death situation.” Toriel gasps.“Oh dear!” she says, suddenly looking worried. “Who is in danger of dying?”“A skeleton named Sans,” you explain. Toriel looks like her heart just stopped. She then grabs your arm and pulls you inside.“I’m going to have to trust you for a little while, so you better not break this trust,” she says, looking you directly in the eyes. “I need you to look after Frisk for a while. You can talk to them all you want, just make sure they don’t get into trouble. I have to go out for a while to check on Sans. Do you know where he is?” You tell her the name of the hospital. She nods, thanks you, then hurries out the door.You feel a small hand tugging on the bottom of your shirt once Toriel leaves. You look down at a small human child who could be no more than ten. You… you honestly can’t tell what this kid’s gender is.“Hey there,” you say, waving a bit. “… You don’t happen to be Frisk… do you?” The child nods, then tries saying something to you in sign language. This child… this SMALL HUMAN CHILD is the AMBASSADOR of ALL MONSTERS. After a minute or two, they realize you can’t understand them. They then bring you over to a large table, sit you down at a chair, leave for a bit, then come back with some paper and some crayons. They sit next to you and start writing.‘Hi! My name is Frisk!’ they write. ‘I heard you talking about me to my Mom. What do you need?’“Um, Undyne told me you saw a monster nobody else knew about?” you say questioningly.‘Do you mean the Doctor?’ they write. ‘Yeah, I’ve seen him a lot of times. Nobody remembers him though. For a while, I reset over and over again so I could see him more. I found it really interesting how he remembered every single time.’“Reset…?” you ask, remembering both Sans and Gaster talking about remembering resets.‘Oh, whoops, I forgot I’m not supposed to tell anyone about that.’ They scribble out the previous two sentences. ‘Anyways, I know Dr Gaster and he knows me. Why do you ask about him? Did you see him too?’“Yeah, actually. I saw him. Met him personally, actually. I actually came here to ask you if you knew how to, well, bring him back to existence…” You pause for a moment, thinking over your words and realizing you’re talking to a mute child writing on paper in crayon. “… Nevermind, I guess it was really a stupid idea anyways…”‘It’s kinda simple, actually!’ Frisk writes. ‘I just need to hack into the code and program him back in!’“… Sorry, what?”‘I only haven’t done it before because it’s super dangerous if I mess up, and I could accidentally let out something that’s supposed to stay in the void or accidentally delete someone.’“How old are you?”‘I’m eight and a half! Though, if I’m being honest here, adding all the extra time, I’m about thirteen.’“Extra time?”‘Oops, well, I guess I have to tell you now. I have the ability to reset time to a certain point where I “saved,” like in a video game! Adding to that, I can hack into the universes “code” and change whatever I want, though it’s very risky. I was able to erase some bad stuff I did from existence because I felt super duper bad about it and Chara wouldn’t let me undo it normally. But Gaster technically doesn’t even exist, so he’s not even in the code. This isn’t like changing LV or erasing data, this is adding in a whole different being. I might have a better chance if I was able to literally pull him out of the void, but since he fell into the core, I doubt I’d be able to do that since he fell pretty far down into the c’They suddenly stop writing. Frisk quickly gets up and runs off. You consider following after, but you decide against it. Moments later, they return with a long rope. They go back to their seat and move aside filled papers so they can write on fresh ones.‘Toriel used this to help get monsters who were stuck down low out so that they could get to the surface.’ they wrote. ‘It might be long enough, but I’m not sure. I don’t even know if the rope will survive the trip into the center of the core. But since Gaster mostly survived, I’d probably be fine. Humans ARE made of sturdier stuff than monsters, after all.’“Oh no, I am NOT dangling you into the core from a rope,” you say.‘It’s alright, I’ll just call my mom and tell her I’m showing you around the underground!’ they write.“But, aren’t you mute?” you ask. “How can you talk on the phone?”‘Morse code, duh!’ they scribble down, giggling silently. ‘Or I could text her. In fact, I’m gonna do that now!’Before you can protest, Frisk pulls their phone out of their pocket and starts texting Toriel. After a minute or two, you hear Frisk’s phone make a notification sound. They read the text, then smile. They then get up and gesture to you to follow them. You sigh and do so, seriously not wanting to endanger this extremely important small child. They also then grab the rope and somehow stuff the whole thing into their pocket. It doesn’t even look like there’s anything in their pocket. All you can think of is “hammerspace.”Frisk leads you out of the house, out of the neighborhood, and even out of the town. It takes significantly less time than you thought it’d be. They start leading you up a mountain, up a long and twisting path, all the way up to a huge entrance. It finally occurs to you that this must be the exit to the underground, where all the monsters were trapped until just recently. They lead you inside and through the underground castle. They soon bring you to a strange gray area, then to an elevator. After maybe an hour of walking and going through a couple elevators, you finally reach the core. Then you start leading the way. You eventually get to the place where you remember the secret entrance being. You lead Frisk through the winding path, then finally into the room where Gaster fell.Frisk runs over to the bright circle in the center of the floor, and pulls out the rope. They lower an end of the rope through the hole to test the safety. You already don’t feel safe with Frisk so close to the hole. After a minute or two, they pull the rope back up. It appears to be undamaged, and just as long as it always was. Frisk then ties the rope around themself and offers you the other end.“I’m not lowering you down into there,” you say, shaking your head.Frisk huffs, untying the rope from around their waist. They then lower the rope again, a lot farther this time. After about a minute or two, they gasp and the rope slides out of their hands a little. You quickly dive down to help them, grabbing the end of the rope as well. There’s something heavy on the other end. You and Frisk both pull as hard as you can, pulling up whatever has grabbed onto the rope. You soon see a young child on the end, one maybe about the same age as Frisk. They’re wearing a green shirt with one cream colored stripe on it, and their hair is a lighter shade of brown than Frisk’s is. They look up at you and Frisk with a creepy sadistic looking smile that sends chills down your spine, their eyes almost glowing red.“Hiya, Frisk,” the terrifying child says. “Did'ja miss your old pal Chara? ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- You and Frisk stare silently at the demonic child crawling up out of the Core.“What’s the matter, Frisk?” Chara giggles, never taking their almost-glowing red eyes off of them. “Do I bring back bad memories of your old self? Or are you just that excited to see me again-”Frisk places their hand in Chara’s face and shoves backward, leaving an extreme impression of ‘NOPE.’ Chara falls back into the Core, screeching. You stare at Frisk with surprise and shock. Without missing a beat, Frisk throws the rope back down. Chara is pulled up again.“What the hell?!” they exclaim. “Jesus, Frisk, I thought you were being a pacifist this time ‘round!”Frisk signs something to Chara.“Ouch, that’s not something to say to your old friend,” Chara responds jokingly. Frisk flips them off.“Sorry, but WHAT is going on?!” you finally ask.“I’m Frisk’s closest friend!” Chara says, turning to you. Frisk also turns to you and shakes their head.“Alright then, Frisk, WHAT is the terrible thing that happened with you and this child?” you ask, immediately afterwards remembering you don’t know sign language.Frisk starts signing something, then also remembers your ignorance. Chara offers to translate, but Frisk refuses their help. They then pull some more rope out of their pocket and tie up the struggling Chara, then they reach into Chara’s pocket and pull out a dusty looking knife. They put the knife in their own pocket, then shove Chara into a corner and let the rope back down. Chara struggles, curses, and screams in frustration as they try to escape and get their dusty knife back. Then it hits you. Monsters turn into dust when they die. This child is a murderer.You and Frisk wait a long while, trying to basically fish for Gaster. At some points it kinda feels like something is trying to grab hold, but nothing actually tugs on it. After about an hour, Frisk gives up and tries to pull up the rope so they can tie themself to it again. The rope won’t budge. You tug on it a bit with Frisk. It won’t move at all. You decide to try to pull with all your weight, and Frisk does the same. It feels as if there’s a thousand-pound weight on the other end of the rope. You and Frisk spend a whole ten minutes getting a foot of the rope out of the core before a huge part of the weight suddenly disappears and you both suddenly fall back. You both then get back up and pull up on the rope.On the end is a huge black amorphous blob, about the size of an adult human. You both set the gooey black blob on the ground, then both watch in surprise as the goo starts to evaporate. Beneath it, a white coat is exposed. Then a bony hand. Then a cracked skull. Then pants, then shoes, then a gray turtleneck, then a pair of glasses laying on the ground next to the skeletal person laying on his side, unconscious. Frisk kneels down and pokes the unconscious skeleton’s head. There’s no reaction. You suddenly remember Bones’s soul. You roll the skeleton onto his back and unbutton his lab coat, then lift up his shirt. The upside down white heart gem in his sternum is cracked, and the cracks are filled with a black goo. You try to wipe some of it away. The goo and cracks disappear, and the gem glows faintly. A slight purple aura appears around the soul gem, and it glows brighter. Dr Gaster’s hand twitches. You pull his shirt back down as his left eye socket starts to open. He winces as he tries to sit up. Frisk helps him, which confuses him. It takes him a couple seconds to assess his surroundings and process everything. He then looks up at you, the white prick of light in his one usable socket staring directly into your eyes.“… Am I…?” he asks quietly. He then quickly turns his head to Frisk, who is currently sitting at his side. Frisk smiles and nods.Gaster turns back to you and stares again, as if he can’t process the things he’s seeing and feeling. Water starts trickling from his socket, and he begins to shake. You offer a hand to help him up. He takes your hand, his bones surprisingly cold, like he’s been in a freezer this whole time. You pull him up, helping him keep balance as his legs almost give way under him. It’s fairly unsurprising, seeing as he just spent twenty or so years in what you assume was a weightless darkness in which he had very little interaction with literally anything. Chara then ruins the moment.“Oh so you try to help the CREEPY SKELETON monster, but not the MISUNDERSTOOD HUMAN?!” they exclaim. “Oh yeah, just SHOVE ME BACK INTO THE VOID why don’t you. No need to WORRY about the ABUSED CHILD!” You, Gaster, and Frisk all look at Chara with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. Frisk then pulls Chara’s dusty knife out of their pocket and shows it to Gaster.“Yeah, I know,” Gaster sighs. “I saw enough pieces of the resets.” Frisk winces, then looks extremely guilty.“I don’t mean to be rude, but is somebody going to fill me in on Frisk’s grievance with this terrifying child?” you ask. Frisk shrugs then goes over to Chara, grabbing them by the back of their shirt and dragging them back towards the hole.“DON’T YOU DARE, FRISK!!” Chara screeches. “I’M SUPPOSED TO OWN YOUR SOUL!! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO DO WHAT I SAY!!! I’M SUPPOSED TO CONTROL YOUR STUPID BODY!!!!!” Frisk throws Chara back into the Core, then they go over to a corner and lie down in it and cry. You are immediately filled with concern.“Do you think you can stand on your own?” you ask Gaster.“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he assures you, nodding. The moment you let go, he starts to fall.“Screw it,” you say, sighing as you catch him, “You’re coming with me to comfort the ambassador.” You walk over to Frisk, carefully balancing Gaster along the way. Once you reach them, you gently set Gaster down and kneel next to Frisk.You gently sit Frisk up and put them in your lap, rubbing their head comfortingly. You use your sleeve to wipe away some of their tears as you try to calm them down. Then they do something that surprises you.“… i want to see sans…” they whisper almost inaudibly. You suddenly remember why you needed Gaster in the first place.“Me too,” you say, wiping away the rest of Frisk’s tears. “Let’s go see him now, shall we?” Frisk nods, and stands up from your lap. You look over and see Gaster has also managed to stand up on his own, albeit wobbly. You stand up and take Frisk’s left hand and Gaster’s right hand, then start on your way to leave the underground.After a while of going through the last part of the underground to reach the exit, Gaster starts walking just fine on his own. Then he starts walking a bit faster than you and Frisk. Then he starts jogging. Then running. He kicks off the walls to make tight turns, elated and excited to have legs again, you suppose. Once you finally catch up to him, all three of you are outside. Gaster stares at the now starry sky, filled with an awe you never thought would be expressible on a skeleton. You can almost feel the pure elation emanating from him. You feel Frisk’s grip on your hand tighten. You look down at them and see they’re impatiently worried. You sigh, and tap Gaster on the shoulder. He looks over at you.“We really gotta go, Sans needs you,” you say seriously. His awe is suddenly replaced by fatherly affection and a slight sense of dread. He nods, and gestures for you to lead the way. This makes sense to you, since he probably hasn’t ever seen the surface before.You walk for what feels like an hour, picking up Frisk and carrying them halfway through because they had started falling asleep. You eventually get to the hospital. The moment Gaster realizes you’re actually going to the hospital, you can feel the absolute dread emanate from his body. You almost don’t notice as he speedwalks ahead of you and quickly to the front desk. You follow quickly after him, doing your best to not wake Frisk just yet. Gaster frantically asks the human woman at the front desk about Sans Serif, explaining that he’s a relative. The woman then tells him the room Sans is in (albeit distastefully), and he starts moving straight towards said room as fast as he can walk. You move quickly after him, accidentally jostling Frisk awake. They hold onto you tighter as you start to run to try to keep up with him. He eventually stops at a door that several monster doctors stand around. He clears his throat(?), catching their attention.“I need to see my son,” he says, his voice clear and full of purpose. The doctors stare at him silently with awe, then quickly let him in.“Hey,” you pant as you get to the doctors. “We’re with him.” You gesture over to Gaster as you set Frisk down.“What’s your relation to the patient?” one of the doctors asks. Frisk signs something. The doctor nods, and lets both of you in. You SERIOUSLY feel like you need to learn sign language.Once inside the room, you stop and stare. Papyrus has fallen asleep at Sans’s side, Toriel is holding Sans’s hand and staring at Dr Gaster, and Gaster has his hand down Sans’s shirt, his hand likely directly over his soul. Gaster’s eye socket glows a bright purple, powerful magic flowing all around him. The cracks in Sans’s skull that you can see from where you are fade away as Sans is also surrounded by that magic. Papyrus wakes up and stares at Gaster and Sans, then looks over at you for a moment in bewilderment before looking back over at his father and brother. Frisk leaves your side and runs over to Toriel, hugging her tightly when they reach her. The magic soon fades, and Dr Gaster collapses. You quickly run over, trying to help him up.“Thank you…” he mumbles to you, trembling slightly. You can tell he’s weak. He looks up at Papyrus and smiles softly (which still amazes you, since he’s a frickin’ skeleton with a SKULL for a face). Papyrus just stares silently, seemingly unsure of what to think or say.“… Doctor Wingdings…?” Toriel asks, staring down at Gaster. He looks up.“Good evening, your majesty,” he mumbles. “It has been quite a long while.” Papyrus suddenly stands up, walks around Sans’s bed, takes Gaster from you and hugs him tightly, all within the span of two seconds. This, of course, surprises everyone. A few seconds later, Sans stirs.You and everyone else look over at Sans as he moves. He grumbles a little, then slowly sits up.“SANS!!” Papyrus exclaims, tears beginning to drip from his sockets again. Sans doesn’t even have time to look over at Papyrus before he’s suddenly takled by said brother. You catch Gaster as he falls from Papyrus’s embrace.“Oh thank goodness!” Toriel exclaims, wiping away a few of her tears. Frisk goes up to the side of Sans’s bed and pats his leg to get his attention.“hey, uh, papyrus?” Sans mumbles. “you’re uh, kinda crushing me.” Papyrus lets go, sniffing and wiping away a few of his tears. Sans then looks over at Frisk. They sign something to Sans, and he chuckles quietly. “nice to see you too, kiddo,” he says.“SANS!” Papyrus exclaims, holding up Gaster with you. “LOOK WHO THE HUMANS BROUGHT!! HE SHARED HIS SOUL WITH YOU TO HEAL YOU!!”‘So that’s what all that was,’ you think to yourself.Sans looks over at Gaster, and his permanant smile melts into a look of pure surprise and shock.“… dad…?” he says, half-whispering. Gaster chuckles lightly and nods.“Sorry I’m home late,” Gaster jokes, “I got caught up with work.” Sans lunges towards Gaster and holds him tight, shaking slightly. Papyrus joins in on the hug. You, Frisk, and Toriel all just watch happily as the skeletons are reunited.“… welcome home, dad,” Sans mumbles. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Anime night at Dr Alphys's place had become a regular thing in your schedule since you're such good friends with the skeleton family. Ever since Alphys realized Gaster never got to experience anime before falling into the core, he's been a regular at these anime nights. You appear to be watching a romantic anime tonight, but you can't really follow along at all. "Wait, why is she mad at him?" Gaster whispers to Alphys. "He didn't hold her hand on the way to class," Alphys whispers back. "Seriously?" Gaster whispers, sounding a bit disgusted. "Is that really it?" "It's a whole thing with her character arc that she's overdramatic about everything," Alphys explains, trying to remain quiet for everyone else. "It'll come back to bite her in a later episode, and she'll try to change by the end of the series." "Why is he dating her again?" Gaster whispers. "That would actually be some major spoilers for season 3 where it's explained," Alphys whispers. "Just pay attention and you'll be able to figure out the plot!" "Hey, Alphie, I think I'm lost," Undyne mumbles. "When was that blue-haired girl introduced again?" "She wasn't," Alphys whispers. "At least not yet. It's gonna be a whole thing." "calling it now, that chick's gonna get beat up by a bunch of other girls before getting saved by that dude looking at her" Sans mumbles, pointing at the girl currently on the screen. "SHH," Papyrus shushes, likely much louder than he intended. Everyone quiets down and watches for a few seconds, then Gaster leans closer to Alphys. "Wait, why are they calling her ugly?" Gaster whispers, a bit quieter than before. "She's wearing glasses," Alphys explains quietly. "In anime, if a girl starts out wearing glasses, she'll be called ugly until she takes them off and turns out to be beautiful." "So, what, am I ugly for wearing glasses?" Gaster quietly scoffs. "Since you're a guy, according to anime logic, no," Alphys whispers. "In fact, you'd probably be a generic background character, if you were in an anime. If you were an actual support character or even a main character, you'd probably be drawn as more conventionally attractive than a normal generic background character would be drawn. Guys in anime are generally seen as more attractive with their glasses on, there's a whole thing." "Babe, just enjoy the anime," Undyne whispers, wrapping her arms around Alphys. "You're starting to get stuck in nerd-out mode, and I don't want you missing too much, even though I know you've seen this before." Alphys blushes and nods, and Gaster leans back again to watch the anime in increasing confusion. _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- "While I can see how some would like the show, I myself just don't get it in the slightest," Gaster says as he helps clean up. "hey, anime isn't for everyone," Sans says, shrugging and doing a minimal amount of work. "Maybe you're just not into it because it's a cheesy school romance," Undyne points out. "Not that there's anything wrong with cheesy school romance, it's just that those specifically are not for everyone." "Oooh, maybe you'd prefer an isekai anime!" Alphys gasps, clapping excitedly. Gaster gives her a confused look. "SANS, YOU REALLY SHOULD BE HELPING OUT MORE," Papyrus says, doing the lion's share of the work. "YOU EVEN HAVE MORE HP NOWADAYS, YOU DON'T HAVE AN EXCUSE TO BE LAZY ANYMORE." "pap, my excuse to be lazy is the pursuit of laziness itself," Sans smirks. You snort. Papyrus sends you a look of 'please don't encourage him', which just makes you smile more. "Come on, Sans, you should really help out more, at least a little bit," you say, prompting a thankful look from Papyrus. "welp, if you say so," Sans says, activating his magic. He lifts a single piece of popcorn off the floor and floats it over to the trash can. "there, i helped out at least a little bit more." After a few seconds of silence, Papyrus bursts out laughing. After a moment or two of surprise, everyone else starts chuckling as well. "ALRIGHT, KINDA WALKED RIGHT INTO THAT ONE, I'LL ADMIT," Papyrus giggles. _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- You walk into work and are greeted by an excited chorus of your name, as well as a delightfully familiar face working at the counter. Flames flicker through cracks in the charcoal-like substance that acts as the base of Grillby's body that the fire surrounds where he had been doused a little over a week earlier. He looks up at you and smiles, something you can't normally see with the fire usually hiding his mouth while closed. You quickly go up to the counter, leaning over it. "Great to see you back on your feet, Grillby!" you exclaim. "How's the healing going?" He shrugs in response, setting down the cloth he was using to clean out a cup and using his hand to make a 'so-so' gesture. "Think it's gonna scar?" you ask, gesturing to the right half of his face. He sighs, shrugging and giving a look of 'probably'. "Does it still hurt?" you ask, still a bit worried about him. He shrugs and holds up his hand, symbolizing 'a little'. He gives you the feeling of him communicating that he can deal with it. "Well, at least it's not bad," you sigh, heading behind the counter so you can finally clock in for the day. He nods in agreement, going back to cleaning out the cup. You've always wondered how he cleaned it with just a cloth and no water, but you figure it's something to do with magic, as everything relating to monsters has something to do with magic. You greet Fuku, Grillby's daughter, as you pass by her on the way to the back to drop off your purse and such. She had been keeping the restaurant going while he was in the hospital, which you figured must have been a great amount of stress for her. You honestly have no idea how she managed to juggle school, running the restaurant, and her father being in the hospital, but now that two of those weights have been taken off her shoulders, you can visibly tell her flames have brightened back up again. "oh my stars, grillbz?!" you hear Sans exclaim excitedly from the front as he enters the building. You hear the chorus of 'Sans' echo through as you come out front to start waiting on tables, shortly before a chorus of 'Papyrus' echoes through. "GRILLBY!!" Papyrus booms happily as he enters. Sans uncharacteristically dashes to the front counter, practically jumping up onto it. "how ya doin', buddy?!" Sans exclaims excitedly, his smile appearing brighter and more genuine than usual. "you had me worried you weren't coming back! i'd already started figuring out a way to get the doctors to let me visit ya in the hospital!" A silent chuckle escaped Grillby, and he began signing to Sans. You can't help but smile at the interaction. You don't usually see the two of them this happy, so it's especially nice when it happens. Fuku calls out your name, catching your attention. "Sorry, coming right over!" you say, abruptly remembering you have a job to do. Grillby's is extra crowded today as word gets out about Grillby's return. You find it amazing how so many monsters know him, seeing as he isn't really the chatty type. Though you don't know sign language, so maybe he actually is the chatty type. Almost every monster that comes in greets Grillby with pure excitement and joy, asking him how he's holding up and all that. Regulars that usually visit on specific days make a point of showing up today just so they can greet Grillby. All's well and good... that is, until someone directly makes a point of drawing attention to themself. The door bursts open as a hot pink heel loudly kicks it aside, bringing everyone's attention to it. A very shapely leg wrapped in skin-tight glossy black leggings with an equally glossy eye-soaringly bright hot pink high-heeled thigh-high boot steps into the bar, before the rest of the owner of said leg enters. The first thing you see is a bright pink fluffy coat hanging over the shoulders, then a pair of robotic arms tipped with white gloves on the hands opening up wide with a flicking flair of the wrists, then shimmering black hair draped over one side of a metallic face, and finally a bright pink chassis with a dial and a speaker above what appears to be a belt containing a bright pink glowing heart at the front. "GRILLBY, DARLING!" an incredibly flamboyant deep robotic voice exclaims as the robotic figure enters, his hips swaying as he walks. "You had me so worried! Oh, your poor beautiful face!" "unless i'm mistaken, i'm pretty sure you said that same exact thing when you were visiting him in the hospital, word for word," Sans chuckles. "Am I not allowed to express the same sentiment twice?" the robot says dramatically, tossing his hair flamboyantly and sparkling like an anime character. "Regardless, I'm absolutely ECSTATIC to see you're back on your feet! What a trooper you are!" He walks over to the front, his heels clicking on the wooden ground and his hands held up daintily like an excited teenage girl. You notice some monsters whispering excitedly and taking pictures, and you struggle to remember whether or not you've seen this robot before. "Oh my stars, I can't believe Mettaton's actually here!" you overhear one monster whispering to their friend. "I know, right?!" their friend whispers back excitedly. "He's, like, totally hotter in person!" You vaguely recognize the name they had mentioned, but you're not particularly familiar with the robot or his work. You figure it's probably because you never really paid much mind to what celebrities were doing, and you admittedly didn't really pay too much attention to any possible monster celebrities that may have come up from the Underground. Grillby sets down the glass he's working on cleaning again, and he starts signing something. "What, Blookie?" Mettaton asks, leaning on the counter and putting his hand in his chin. "They're doing great! They've actually been getting a lot of DJ gigs recently, ever since October started! And at HUMAN parties nonetheless! Apparently, humans have this thing called 'Halloween' that they're absolutely CRAZY for, and Blookie fits the aesthetic PERFECTLY!" He is very animated with his speaking, gesturing sassily and presumably glamourously nearly constantly as he talks. You will admit, he's a very attractive bot. You're not gonna go wild over him, but you will admit to yourself that he has some very nice legs. You snap out of the trance this apparent celebrity has put you in with his good-looking and extremely feminine body and mannerisms, and you finally get back to work. "Shyren, you mean?" you overhear him saying as you set down someone's order. "She's doing amazing. More confident than ever... And, could I tell you a secret?" You glance over in time to see Grillby nod, and Mettaton leans over the counter to whisper something to him. You see Grillby's expression and flames brighten, and he smiles. He holds both of his hands in front of himself holding onto one another by the palms, and he shakes them while smiling wide. You have the feeling you might be able to guess what it means, but you're not certain. _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- You had vaguely noticed Papyrus had ended up staying longer than his brother had, and more clearly noticed that he even stayed until just a few minutes before close. You feel a bit curious about this, but you figure it's because he's just so excited to see Grillby okay and on his feet again. You finally finish up what left you had to do, and you finally clock out. Your feet are killing you, but today was especially good, what with Grillby being back and tips being more plentiful than ever, so you're pretty sure that a little pain is worth it. Grillby clocks out after you, then gives you a little nod as his way of saying "thanks for coming in today". You smile and nod back as a way of saying "no problem" before adjusting your purse on your shoulder and leaving. As you exit the building, waving goodbye to Grillby as he goes off to walk home while you head to your car, you notice Papyrus waiting by it, animatedly waiting. The only reason why you can tell in the dark is because his outfit is so distinctive it's impossible to miss him. Also, he's an incredibly tall skeleton. He seems to perk up as you head towards him and your car, and he seems to practically freeze in place. "Heya Papyrus, need something?" you ask, waving in greeting as you approach him. "W-WELL, ERM," Papyrus mumbles, fidgeting a bit and avoiding direct eye contact. You can't tell for certain in the dark, but he appears to be blushing a little. "WELL, YOU SEE, I'VE, UM... B-BEEN DOING SOME RESEARCH ABOUT HUMAN CUSTOMS SO I, ERM, KNOW HOW THIS WHOLE THING GOES, AND-..." "... And...?" you ask, hoping for him to continue. Papyrus takes in a shaky breath, clearly trying to force himself to be calm. "W-WELL, YOU SEE, ERM..." he says, trailing off a little. "... W-WOULD YOU MIND... MAYBE... GOING... ON A DATE...? W-WITH ME, I MEAN...?" You take a few seconds to actually process his request, slowly realizing what he had just said. You feel your face get warm. "Uh-... y-yeah, sure," you say, stunned. "Where to? And when?" Papyrus appears surprised that you said yes, and appears to enter an entirely different stage of panic. "WELL, ERM, I-I WAS THINKING, UM, M-MAYBE THE MOVIES OR SOMETHING?" Papyrus stutters, fidgeting with his gloves. "M-MAYBE ON A FRIDAY? A-AT SIX? YOU DON'T, ERM, W-WORK FRIDAYS, RIGHT?" "Yeah," you say, internally screaming with excitement and delight. "I don't work then. Sounds good. My place, yours, or should we meet up there?" "HUH...?" Papyrus asks, clearly having spent most of his thinking power on asking you out. "I mean where should we meet up?" you clarify. "My place, your place, or at the movies?" "O-OH, RIGHT," Papyrus says, more clearly blushing. "ERM, I-I'LL MEET YOU AT YOUR PLACE." "Alright, see you then," you say, unable to keep a smile off your face. Papyrus nods, awkwardly waving goodbye and leaving, first accidentally tripping over the curb a bit. He quickly regains his balance, chuckles nervously, then quickly leaves. You manage to get into your car before you start squealing with glee. You can't believe what had just happened, and you ABSOLUTELY can't believe you managed to stay calm through all that. You guess today really is a good day. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- You struggle to decide what to wear to your date with Papyrus. You haven't really been one to dress up extra girly, you just put on the occasional makeup when you want to hide a blemish or lighten the bags under your eyes. Sure, you have nice clothes, but you're not used to actually having reasons to WEAR them. You stand in front of your bathroom mirror and check out the dresses you're trying to decide between. It's getting close to six, so you're starting to get a little ancy. You momentarily stop and consider that maybe Papyrus would just be wearing that funky little outfit with the speedo-type thing and the boots and crop-top-armor-thing, so maybe you could just wear whatever. You then decide that no, you DO have to dress up nice. Why? Because you said so. You pick the simple boat neckline yellow dress with the box pleated skirt that reaches your knees and the sleeves that reach your elbows, paired with some black low heels you can walk in. Just as you're finishing putting on makeup, you get a text from Papyrus. You check it, finding that he's already here and waiting for you outside. You quickly but neatly put your hair in a ponytail that starts halfway down the length of your hair, and you grab your purse and head out to meet him, feeling really giddy and nervous. You get a few compliments from neighbors in your apartment complex as you head downstairs, boosting your confidence just a little bit. The moment you're outside, you freeze. You see Papyrus wearing a black suit with an open jacket and a red buttondown, as well as a pair of nice black shoes, and of course, his scarf. It seems so simple... yet so strange and handsome. He is leaning against a sleek red sports car with a retractable roof, which was something you hadn't expected in the slightest. He looks up and notices you, and just stares in surprise and amazement. "... WOW," he says as he stares at you. "... YOU LOOK AMAZING." "Thanks," you chuckle, glancing away shyly. "You don't look half bad yourself." "OH, UH, THANKS," Papyrus says, tugging at his coat a bit. "ERM, UNDYNE ACTUALLY HELPED ME PICK IT OUT. I DON'T KNOW WHY I TOLD YOU THAT." You laugh a little, smiling up at him. Orange dusts his face. "Well, she's got a great sense of style," you say sweetly, beaming. "It really works well for you!" Papyrus chuckles bashfully, adorably nervous. He opens the passenger side door of his car for you, and you get in. He carefully shuts the door, making sure your dress doesn't get caught in it, and he gets into the other side and starts up the car, putting on his seatbelt. You put yours on as well, smiling at him as he turns his head to check to make sure you were wearing it. His hands start to glow as he puts them on the steering wheel, and you see the gauge for the fuel tank suddenly go up to "full". He starts the car up, and you begin your way to the movie theater. "How did you do that?" you ask in amazement. "DR ALPHYS FOUND A WAY FOR MONSTERS TO USE MAGIC AS APPOSED TO GASOLINE SO TO LIMIT EXCESS POLLUTION FROM THE MONSTER POPULATION," he explains. "SHE DESIGNED A DEVICE THAT CONVERTS MAGIC INTO ENERGY USABLE BY CARS, AND EVERYONE DECIDED TO GET ONE FOR ANY CAR THEY OWNED. THEY CAN STILL RUN ON GASOLINE AND ALL THAT, THE MACHINE JUST MAKES THE CAR USE MAGIC LIKE GASOLINE. EXCEPT WITHOUT ALL THE FUMES, AS THE MAGIC JUST DISSAPATES AS IT'S USED FOR ENERGY. BASICALLY, IT RUNS SIMILAR TO HOW A MONSTER DOES! YES, WE CAN STILL EAT HUMAN FOOD, BUT WE CAN ALSO EAT MONSTER FOODS, WHICH ARE MADE ENTIRELY OF MAGIC! WHICH IS WHY THE UNDERGROUND DOESN'T HAVE BATHROOMS. I DON'T KNOW WHY I TOLD YOU THAT. I GUESS I JUST TALK EXTRA WHEN I'M NERVOUS. SORRY IF I'M TALKING TOO MUCH. AM I TALKING TOO MUCH?" "I think you're talking just the right amount," you laugh. "I'd love to hear more if you don't mind." The prattling of Papyrus's voice fills you with a wonderful feeling of affection, leaving you nearly lightheaded with euphoria. You listen to his every word, learning about various bits and pieces of factoids about pre-resurfacing monster society, such as an affinity for puzzles absolutely everywhere and a tendency to speak into echo flowers. You soon find yourself talking along with him, telling him all about yourself and what your life was like before the monsters came up. You soon make it to the movies, and both you and Papyrus pick out something to see. He appears interested in what looks like a movie for kids, but for some reason, he doesn't seem to want to suggest it. So instead, you suggest it. The absolute joy apparent on his skeletal face fills you with a wonderfully pleasantly warm feeling. Papyrus insists on paying for everything, as is the gentlemanly custom (which he clearly looked up during his "research of human dating customs"), so he pays for both movie tickets and a large popcorn for the both of you to share. The both of you enter the room the movie is playing in and find a pair of seats quite a while before the commercials end. Sure enough, there are mostly little kids here. You can't help but notice a few kids pointing out to their parents that "there's a real-life monster here!" before being promptly shushed and told not to be rude. Papyrus waves at a few kids gawking, and their expressions of pure amazement and joy just make your heart melt. 'If only everyone was as pure as children,' you think to yourself. 'The world might be a better place, then...' "S'cusies," you hear a small voice whisper next to you from the isle. You look over and see a small boy with a skeleton on a skateboard and wearing 'cool kid' clothing on his shirt that says 'BONE to be WILD' under it. You gasp with joy and gently nudge Papyrus to bring his attention to the boy. "Need something?" you ask as Papyrus looks past you at the boy. You can almost feel him grow happier the moment he sees the image on the shirt. The boy points past you at Papyrus, so you lean back so they can talk more easily. "Are you a real skeleton monster?" the boy asks, whispering. "THAT I AM," Papyrus quietly says matter-of-factly. "YOUR SHIRT IS AMAZING, BY THE WAY! TOTALLY COOL!" "Thank you!" the boy whispers, smiling ear to ear. "My mommy says monsters are evil and from Hell, but she's a big dumb-dumb. I know you're nice. I bet monsters just wanna make friends with humans." You can practically see Papyrus's heart just entirely melt, and you almost swear you can see him almost crying. "WELL, I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY CORRECT," Papyrus half-whispers. "MOST MONSTERS REALLY DO JUST WANT TO MAKE FRIENDS. ESPECIALLY WITH VERY NICE PEOPLE, JUST LIKE YOU!" "I like skeletons, I think they're cool," the boy whispers excitedly, rocking back and forth on his heels. "WELL, I LIKE KIND CHILDREN," Papyrus responds, overjoyed. "I THINK THEY'RE THE COOLEST." The boy bounces happily, then runs off. You turn a bit and see him join up with what appears to be his father. You see Papyrus waving after him, then the boy waving excitedly back with a smile so big and bright it could light the whole world. However, in the background, you can see a few kids who look absolutely terrified, some even disgusted. You sigh as you turn back around, assuming those kids' parents were to blame for their prejudice. The movie finally starts, and you smile at Papyrus's excitement. _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- "WELL, I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU, BUT I THINK THAT WAS A PRETTY GOOD MOVIE," Papyrus says as the two of you exit, stretching out a bit. "THE ENDING REALLY GOT ME!" "I think the CGI could have been better," you chuckle. "Other than that, yeah! It was pretty good! I was glad to see no one really died, that's pretty unusual for a movie like that." "IT IS?" Papyrus asks, surprised and saddened. "Yeah, movies like that like to kill off the main character's spiritual guide to up the stakes," you explain, shrugging and tossing away the empty popcorn bag. "I'm glad they only had him missing for a while. Real nice when a good character you thought was dead shows up later to be awesome." "WOWIE, I GUESS WE PICKED A GOOD ONE THEN!" Papyrus says, looking triumphant. He lets out a triumphant "NYEH HEH HEH HEH" that makes you unable to keep from smiling. He has a very strange laugh, and you love every bit of it. Whether it's purposeful or incidental, he always has the same adorable, quirky, funny little laugh. "Excuse me miss," you hear a small voice say next to you. You turn a bit and find a little girl in a flowery pink and yellow dress looking up at you. "Yes?" you ask, smiling sweetly at the kid. "Why are you walking with a monster?" she asks shyly, giving Papyrus nervous glances. "My daddy says monsters are evil, and they eat little kids who don't eat their vegetables." You blink in shock, abruptly remembering that humans for centuries have used the word "monster" as a negative term, and a way to scare children. "Well, have you ever met a monster?" you ask. The little girl shakes her head. "My daddy doesn't want me near monsters, because they're so scary," she explains, scooching away a bit in a likely attempt to put a little more distance between her and Papyrus. "Well, clearly your daddy hasn't met monsters either," you say, smiling. "I'm friends with a whole bunch of monsters, and none of them like to eat little kids. In fact, he likes spaghetti!" You gesture to Papyrus, who begins nodding enthusiastically. The little girl gasps. "Spaghetti and meatballs?" she asks excitedly. Papyrus nods, and she starts bouncing a little. "I like spaghetti and meatballs too! With cheese on it!" "OOH, WITH CHEESE?" he asks, looking thoughtful and happy. "THAT MUST BE WHAT IT'S BEEN MISSING ALL THIS TIME!" "You have a funny voice," the girl giggles, pointing at Papyrus. "WHY THANK YOU, SMALL HUMAN!" Papyrus exclaims happily. "I'M GLAD YOU CAN FIND ME MORE FUNNY THAN SCARY! NYEH HEH HEH!" The little girl giggles even more at his laugh. "Lucy!" someone calls out. The little girl turns her head towards the voice, then turns back to you and Papyrus. "Gotta go!" she says, waving goodbye. "Nice meeting you!" "AND THE SAME TO YOU, SMALL HUMAN!" Papyrus says, waving as well. The little girl starts running off, but suddenly skids to a stop. "I almost forgot!" she exclaims, quickly turning a bit to wave at you. "You have a really pretty dress, miss!" "Thank you!" you say happily, waving as well. "I love yours as well! It looks very nice!" The little girl's name is called again. "Thank you, bye now!" she says quickly, smiling very brightly and turning again to run towards the person calling her name. You and Papyrus wave goodbye to the little girl, feeling happy you could change someone's view. It's nice to know that children don't just have to rely on their parents to shape their worldview. "... SO," Papyrus says, his mood considerably re-improved. "WANT TO FIND SOMEPLACE MONSTER-FRIENDLY TO EAT AT?" "Ohh, I know the owner at this one diner nearby hired a monster not too long ago to try to get media attention," you recall. "Though, the guy they hired seemed a little... dead inside, maybe? Not sure how to describe it. Kept mumbling 'at least it's not fast food' or something." "CAT MONSTER?" Papyrus asks. Your eyebrows go up, and you nod. "Yeah, actually," you say. "You know him?" "YEAH, I THINK HE USED TO WORK AT THE MTT RESORT DOWN IN THE UNDERGROUND," Papyrus explains, putting his hand on his chin thoughtfully. "I HOPE THAT GUY ACTUALLY GETS AN ACTING GIG. I'VE SEEN HIM IN A PLAY OR TWO, HE'S REALLY GOOD. LIKE, WOW." "Well then," you chuckle, smiling brightly. "I hope he manages to get noticed!" _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- The both of you walk out of the diner, satisfied and happy. You notice that cat monster from earlier taking a smoke break and talking to a man in a suit and looking very excited. You smile, glad for his fortune. Papyrus heads over to his car and goes to open the passenger door for you. "No thanks, actually, I can walk," you say politely, putting your hands up. "ARE YOU SURE?" Papyrus asks, surprised. "Yeah, there's a corner store on the way back to my apartment I wanna stop off at so I can pick up some more geodes for Bones," you explain. "I wouldn't wanna bother you with the wait." "IT WOULDN'T BE A BOTHER AT ALL, PROMISE," Papyrus says quickly. "BESIDES, IT'S ALREADY PRETTY DARK OUT, I WOULDN'T WANT YOU GETTING HURT..." "Don't worry, I'll be fine," you say, walking over to him. "I can handle myself. Besides, I could use the walk. It's only about ten minutes." "... WELL, IF YOU SAY SO," he finally says, looking worried but happy. You gesture for him to bend down, and he does with a very curious look on his face. You put your hands on the sides of his face, and you kiss just under the nose hole. His entire skull goes bright orange, while yours warms up just a bit. "I'd kiss you on the cheek or the lips, but, well... you don't appear to have any," you chuckle. "I had a great time. Maybe we should do this again sometime?" "Y-YEAH..." he stutters, flustered but clearly happy. You smile wide and wave goodbye, leaving as he waves dreamily. Well, that was a good first date. _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- You walk down the dark sidewalk, purse over one shoulder and bag of geodes in the other hand. You hum a little happy tune, looking up at the moon as you walk towards your apartment. The occasional car rushes past on the empty street beside you, the occasional one blaring loud music and sometimes even emanating the excited screams of soon-to-be drunk girls. Occasionally, you even see a group of drunks stumbling along the sidewalk and struggling to call a lift around on their phones. You turn a corner and can see your apartment building down the street. Judging by the flashing colorful lights a few floors up and the frankly comedically large number of cars lined up on the street out front, you're assuming one of your neighbors is having a party. Lovely. You can't wait to try sleeping while that's going on. And you definitely can't wait to be woken up by one of your neighbors yelling about how it's too loud. You may have a pretty nice apartment, but the thin walls really 'make up for it'. A strong hand grabs your wrist and a hand goes over your mouth as you're pulled into an alleyway. You try to shriek in surprise and fear, but your voice is muffled by the hand over your mouth. The hand that grabbed your wrist releases and forcefully wraps around your arms and waist, pinning you to the body of the man that just grabbed you. Internally, you wish you'd taken Papyrus's offer to ride home. "Are you ready to finally fuckin' listen?" the horrifyingly familiar voice of your crazy ex mumbles into your ear. Close to sobbing and fearing for your life, you nod. "I wanted you to know before it became this big of a deal, babe," your ex growls, his grip on you tightening. "Ya see, there's been a little... 'something' visiting me, if ya catch my drift. Something that started when all those damned monsters started showin' up." You try to surprise him and get out of his grip by squirming. His arm still around you, he reaches to his side and pulls out a switchblade, gently pressing the tip to your side. You stand perfectly still. "Look, babycakes, I ain't lettin' ya go until I'm done, capiche?" he snarls into your ear. Starting to sob, you nod. "As I was sayin', this thing that's been visiting... It started off just offering me things. Money. Power. Love. All that stereotypical garbage. And yeah, I kinda wanted that crap. But ya see, startin' a few months ago, it's been giving me... ideas. Ideas, and demands. Freaked me the hell out, so I tried to go to you for it. Guess we got off on the wrong foot, eh?" He chuckles a bit. His breath doesn't smell like alcohol like it usually did. Instead, it kinda smells... metallic...? "Well, I was real reluctant to do the shit this crazy-... THING wanted me to do," he continues. "Well, at first, at least. Thought it could get me into some pretty major trouble. Hell, the thing even wanted to take CONTROL of me too. So I stalled for maybe a month or two. Then I let it in. And hell... does it feel good. And the best part?" He puts his mouth directly next to your ear, the metallic stench in his breath so strong you can hardly breathe and the heat of his breath so hot against your ear that it feels like it'll melt right off. "It DoEs ReAl WeLl WiTh ClEaNuP" You manage to bite his finger hard enough you taste blood. He exclaims in pain, pulling his hand away. Taking your opportunity, you scream. You scream louder in agony as the knife goes into your side. Writing in pain, he manages to knock you to the ground. "Damnit, look what you made me do," he groans, grabbing your hair as he pins you down. "This is why I told you to stay-" - Time slows to a crawl. Orange pixels form mid-air, and from shoes up a body materializes like it's being built right here and now. The arms are moving as they're being formed, then come the skeleton hands, and a huge bone in them, then a skull. Time speeds back up as the large bone makes contact with your ex's face, and he goes flying. Trembling and sobbing, you look up at Papyrus with a look of surprise and a feeling of relief. His innocent look is completely faded. All that remains in his black sockets is the burning orange light of fiery rage. He doesn't even look at you as he stands between you and your ex, who's getting back up. "Where the hell did-?!" your ex begins. Papyrus doesn't let him finish. He stretches out one hand palm facing up, and he lifts it suddenly in a claw-like motion fueled by trembling rage. Giant ribs shoot up out of the ground and grab at your ex. Papyrus rotates his hand around, then swings it downwards very suddenly. The ribs force your ex to the ground, gripping onto him so tightly he's gasping for air. "VILE CREATURE, HOW DARE YOU HARM AN INNOCENT WOMAN," Papyrus growls. He sounds so strange, so unfamiliar, he doesn't even sound like Papyrus anymore. Instead of reacting with fear, your ex just laughs. "What are you going to do, kill me?!" he demands sadistically. "NO," Papyrus growls, stepping towards him as the large bone in his hands morphs into a sharpened point at the end, then pointing the end at his throat. "Are you going to show me what your 'monster magic' is REALLY made of?!" your ex laughs. "What, should I be called 'lucky' if you call the police?!" "... NO," Papyrus says flatly. "WHAT YOU ARE 'LUCKY' ABOUT IS THE FACT I, LIKE MOST MONSTERS, HOLD WITHIN ME MERCY. NOW BEGONE, BEFORE I AM FORCED TO REBUKE THAT MERCY." He lifts his hand, and the ribs holding your ex down dissipate. He pulls the sharp bone away from his neck as well, letting it morph back into a blunt weapon as opposed to a sharp one. You can hear the curious and worried voices of people nearby, and out of the corner of your eye, you can see people sticking their heads out of windows. "... You're lucky I don't like an audience," your ex scoffs, sitting up and reaching for the knife he had dropped, still coated with your blood. Papyrus immediately stomps over and puts his foot on it before your ex can reach it, keeping it out of his grasp. "YOU WILL LEAVE WITHOUT THE WEAPON," Papyrus demands. "YOU HAVE PROVEN YOURSELF TO BE UNTRUSTWORTHY AND DANGEROUS WITH IT." "The media will just use pictures out of context from this to paint your kind in a bad light, you know," your ex snarls, smiling evilly. You can almost see a sort of red glow in his eyes. "I KNOW, AND I DON'T CARE," Papyrus says flatly. "I DON'T CARE IF PEOPLE START THROWING ROCKS AT ME IN THE STREETS. WHAT I DO CARE ABOUT IS THE SAFETY OF THIS DEFENCELESS WOMAN YOU HAVE STABBED." He seems to raise his voice more so than usual. You wonder to yourself why he's calling you defenseless every time he refers to you, despite him knowing that you have at least some defenses. You then notice some of the people above recording on their phones, and one or two talking on theirs and looking panicked. Finally, you understand; he's letting evidence of your ex's crime be caught on tape and making sure what's going on is clear. He must've assumed people would start recording once they were alerted by all the loud sounds going on. Your ex huffs, glancing up at the people taking videos. Finally, he gets up, turns, and starts to leave. Papyrus drops the large bone he was holding and quickly turns back to run to you, the bone dissipating before it even hits the ground. You try to get up, but he keeps you on the ground, not wanting your wound to open further. You notice your ex in the background stop, then quickly turn back and dive for the knife. You can hear people calling out, trying to catch Papyrus's attention. Time slows again. Your ex is holding the knife and is about to slash Papyrus with it. People above are calling out to Papyrus, but he's too focused on you to hear. You grip your grocery bag full of geodes, grab onto Papyrus's shoulder to give you leverage to lunge upwards, and you swing. A cracking sound echoes so loudly it nearly makes you sick. The bag leaves your hand and flings to the ground, the unbroken geodes rolling out, some cracking upon impact with the ground. There's some red on the white bag. Your ex's head hits the wall of the alleyway, and he slides down. There's red on the wall. He crumples down onto the ground. There's red on his shirt, his neck, his head... and there's a dent in it. The pain in your side becomes less noticeable as a numbing sickening feeling washes throughout your entire body. You feel sick. You feel scared. You feel horrified. You feel like a murderer. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Two ambulances came, surrounded by about five or six cop cars. Your ex had been hauled off into one of the ambulances, while you were hoisted into the other one. Papyrus insisted on coming with you. The paramedics tried keeping him away from you, but one of your neighbors that had actually called the police came up and explained that he had saved your life, and you had saved his. A police officer picked up your geodes and your bag to be used as evidence of a weapon, and someone brought his attention to the bloody knife on the ground. Photos are taken of the area, testimonies are taken from witnesses, and you... You're in shock. "How did you know to come at the moment you did?" an officer asks Papyrus. "SHE HAS A MONSTER-OID PET THAT'S CONNECTED TO ME," he explains. "WHEN HER PET HEARD HER SCREAM, I KNEW THAT SOMETHING TERRIBLE WAS HAPPENING, AND SHE NEEDED MY HELP." "So, you are able to see and hear through this woman's pet?" the police officer asks suspiciously. "NO, NOT AT ALL," Papyrus says, shaking his head. "I CAN'T SEE OR HEAR ANYTHING HE CAN SEE OR HEAR, BUT I KNOW WHEN HE'S EXPERIENCING GREAT AMOUNTS OF DISTRESS, AND I KNOW WHAT IT'S DIRECTED TOWARDS. THE SAME GOES FOR HIM TO ME. I CAN ALSO TELL WHERE HE IS AT ANY GIVEN TIME, SO WHAT I HAD TO DO WAS TELEPORT TO WHERE HE WAS, SEE WHERE HE WAS LOOKING, AND TELEPORT DOWN TO LEND AID." "And why, pray tell, does this woman have a pet that's connected to you specifically?" the officer asks, raising an eyebrow. "OH, SHE'S MY-..." he starts, but stops, thinking. "... Girlfriend," you manage to say, your voice small and choked. Papyrus and the officer both look at you in your bandages and shock blanket. "... Recent, I'm assuming?" the police officer asks, his eyes drifting back to Papyrus. "WE JUST WENT ON OUR FIRST DATE JUST A FEW HOURS AGO," he explains nervously, turning back to the officer. "Then why was she walking home alone?" the police officer asks, his brow furrowing. "W-WELL, SHE INSISTED ON WALKING, SINCE SHE HAD TO, ERM, STOP OFF SOMEWHERE TO BUY GEODES..." Papyrus explains, appearing more nervous. The officer gives him a look, then sets down his notepad and pen, takes off his glasses, wipes them off with a cloth, puts them back on, and picks his notepad and pen back up. "Sir, are you certain that is what happened?" he asks tiredly. "Bones eats geodes," you explain quietly. Attention is brought back to you. "... 'Bones'?" the officer asks. "IT'S THE NAME OF HER PET," Papyrus explains. "BONES. BECAUSE IT'S A TINY SKELETAL DRAGON." "And it eats?" the officer asks, suspicious. "... SIR, WITH ALL DUE RESPECT, I EAT," Papyrus says flatly. "YES, I AM A SKELETON, BUT I AM ALSO MAGIC. THE SAME GOES FOR BONES." "Right, magic is in play nowadays," the officer sighs, writing down notes. "And this pet, it eats geodes?" "I HAVE BEEN TOLD THIS, YES," Papyrus nods. "Now, back to her walking on the street in the middle of the night all alone," the officer says, glaring a little at Papyrus. "Why exactly weren't you driving her?" "W-WELL, ERM, YOU SEE-" Papyrus stutters, trying to explain it in a way that wouldn't make him out to be the bad guy in this situation. "I insisted on walking," you interrupt, your voice still shaken a little. "Papyrus tried to convince me to ride with him, but I insisted on walking." "Did you feel uncomfortable in the car with him?" the officer asks, turning to you. Your eyes widen, and you look the officer directly in the eyes with a horrified look. "Of course not," you say, your voice so small you can barely feel it in your throat. "I just-... I didn't want-..." "... SHE HAD TOLD ME THAT SHE DIDN'T WANT TO BOTHER ME WITH THE STOP SHE HAD TO MAKE TO PICK UP GEODES," Papyrus finishes for you. "Right," the officer sighs, writing on his notepad more. "Were there any eye-witnesses to this conversation?" "THERE WAS A CAT MONSTER TALKING TO A MAN IN A SUIT IN FRONT OF THE DINER WE HAD JUST LEFT, BUT HE WAS MOST LIKELY PRE-OCCUPIED WITH THEIR CONVERSATION," Papyrus explained. "Can you tell me more about the cat monster, the man in the suit, and the diner you had left?" the officer asks. "THE MONSTER IN QUESTION IS COMPLETELY ORANGE AND NAMED MICYCLE, OR MIKE FOR SHORT, BUT EVERYONE THAT KNOWS HIM JUST CALLS HIM BURGERPANTS," Papyrus explains. "THE MAN IN THE SUIT HAD CHIN-LENGTH BLACK HAIR AND FACIAL HAIR, AND KIND OF LOOKED A BIT LIKE KEANU REEVES. THE DINER IS CALLED MICKEY'S, AND IS ACROSS THE STREET FROM A RITE-AID PHARMACY." "... Why do people call him 'Burgerpants'?" the officer asks, looking up in confusion. "I HONESTLY HAVE NO CLUE," Papyrus says, shrugging. "I GUESS IT'S A JOKE ABOUT SOMETHING THAT HAPPENED? I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT POSSIBLY COULD HAVE BEEN, I NEVER BOTHERED TO ASK. ALL I KNEW WAS HE BURST INTO TEARS OF JOY WHEN I REFERRED TO HIM BY HIS GIVEN NAME." "Which was... Michael?" the officer asks, confused. "NO NO NO, MICYCLE," Papyrus corrects. "SPELLED LIKE BICYCLE, NOT ICICLE." "Right..." the officer says, his brow furrowing in confusion. "And your name was...?" "PAPYRUS," Papyrus says. "Like the paper?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "NO, THE FONT," Papyrus explains. "IT'S A CULTURAL THING FOR SKELETONS TO BE NAMED AFTER FONTS." "Right..." the officer sighs, writing down the last of his notes. "Well, I'll see if I can confirm your story with this 'Micycle' character." "... Is Peter going to live...?" you ask, your voice shaking. There's a short pause of confusion before the officer speaks up again. "Oh, the man you hit?" he asks. You nod, and he sighs. "Look, ma'am, it's really not in my place to say for sure. All I can confirm is that the paramedics will try their best." That wasn't all that comforting, but it at least gave you a bit of closure. Thanks to human first responders and monster magic, your stab wound healed within an hour, leaving only a light scar on your left side where it was. The police didn't want you to stay by yourself in your apartment with just Bones by your side, so they ask you if you have any friends or family nearby that you can stay with. "Well... I know Papyrus," you say quietly, glancing over in his direction as he talks with one of the paramedics still there. "... Any human friends, perhaps?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "Umm..." you hum, trying to think. "... Well... I had a few coworkers at the grocery store I used to work at that I talked to on occasion. Janet Spackman, Greg Larson, and Michelle... Michelle something. Janet and Greg used to work with me at customer service until Greg was moved back to stocking shelves, and Michelle... Actually, I think Michelle stopped working there a bit before I did." "Do you think any of them would mind you staying over for a few days while this is all sorted out?" the policeman asks you. "Well, I haven't really seen any of them in over a year..." you say quietly, your eyebrow furrowing. "I mean, I've got a few monster friends I know wouldn't mind me staying over. I definitely know Alphys wouldn't mind, Undyne would be ecstatic... I think Papyrus would be alright with it? I'd probably have to ask his brother, too. Oh, and their dad." "... Do your parents live nearby?" he asks. "No," you say, shaking your head. "They live in the next state over." "Well, why not go there then?" he asks, gesturing a bit. "Ask for time off work until this is all sorted out, you'll be safest there." Your brow furrows and you give him a confused look. "... I'm pretty sure I'd be safest around monsters," you say slowly and carefully. "They have magic and a better capability of protecting me." "Well, you see, the thing is," the officer sighs, taking off his hat to smooth his hair. "Monsters are unpredictable. They're dangerous BECAUSE they have magic. They're called MONSTERS for god's sake. Don't you think there's a reason for that?" "Racism and imperialism giving the word 'monster' bad connotation?" you guess flatly. The officer goes silent. "I work with, for, and around monsters all day. And honestly? The one's I've had the pleasure of meeting are significantly nicer in general than the humans I was used to dealing with at my old job. Besides, Papyrus literally just saved my life. People even got that recorded. It's probably even on YouTube by now. I think I'll be in good hands if I stay with a monster, if you don't mind." The officer pauses, glances back at Papyrus, then leans closer to you. "Ma'am, I'm pretty sure monsters were driven underground in the first place for a reason," he mumbles quietly to you. "Were Jews sent to concentration camps because 'they deserved it'?" you ask flatly. He has no response. You slide off the back of the ambulance, leaving your shock blanket behind as you go over to Papyrus. "AH, I SEE YOU'RE FEELING A BIT BETTER?" Papyrus asks as he notices your approach. "The officer told me it would be best for me to stay with someone I trust for the time being, just for safety," you explain. "Do you think it'd be okay for me to crash at your place for a few days?" "OF COURSE!" Papyrus says, appearing surprised. "I'M SURE SANS WOULD BE PERFECTLY FINE WITH IT AS WELL!" "What about your dad?" you ask, remembering Gaster. "HE'S GOING TO BE MOVING OUT PRETTY SOON TO LIVE ON-CAMPUS AT A NEARBY COLLEGE SO HE CAN UPDATE HIS SCIENTIFIC KNOWLEDGE," Papyrus explains. "Oh, well good for him," you say, nodding approvingly. "WELL, ARE YOU READY TO GET GOING?" Papyrus asks, gesturing in the direction his home is. "I should probably get some stuff from my apartment first," you say, looking over at the apartment building. "You know, changes of clothes and stuff." "AH, THAT WOULD MAKE SENSE," Papyrus says, nodding knowingly. "SHALL WE?" You nod, and the both of you walk towards the building. You've gotten past the sickening feeling from cracking open your ex's skull, and now you're just numb. What's going on right now doesn't entirely feel real, just like it's a dream. You almost feel like you could pinch yourself and wake up in the middle of the night. You don't even feel tired, and it's definitely past midnight. The other residents come out and stare as you and Papyrus walk past to your apartment. You can hear a few whispering, but you can't hear what they're saying. After a few moments of walking, you feel Papyrus's coat rest on your shoulders. You remember the side of your dress is covered in your blood, and you figure that must be a reason for their snooping, and it's not just that Papyrus is a skeleton. The both of you reach your apartment. You search through your purse for a bit to find your key, then you put it in the lock and turn. You open your door. In front of you is your living room with a couch and wall-mounted TV. To your right, your small kitchen and dining area, with two chairs pulled up to a point in the counter sticking out from the rest. To your left, your balcony behind a glass door with a curtain rod over it and your comfy chair for reading in. To the right of your TV, there's a hallway that connects to the opposing doors to your room and the bathroom, with the bathroom to the right and your room to the left., shaping out the entire apartment into a rectangle. Bones runs over from the glass door to the balcony to you, whimpering with worry. You pick him up and nuzzle him, petting the top of his head. "Sorry I couldn't bring the geodes for you, Bonesey," you chuckle half-heartedly. "The police didn't care too much for me taking them with me. You wouldn't want them anyways, they got dirty." You hadn't noticed how dead your expression appears until Papyrus gently places a hand on your shoulder, appearing very worried. "ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE OKAY?" he asks, making his voice seem calming. "I likely just killed a man," you say flatly, not looking at his face. "Nothing about me is okay right now." "RIGHT..." he says, flinching back a bit and appearing more downcast. "... WELL, I'LL BE WAITING OUT HERE IF YOU FEEL THE NEED TO CRY, OKAY?" You nod, setting Bones on the ground and heading over to your room to grab some things to take along. You can hear Bones following you for a bit, but then run back, likely to Papyrus. You head into your room, going directly to the closet to pull out your suitcase. You go to wipe off the dust, then stop, staring at it. You know that no monster died here since you last left. You know that the buildup of dust just happens when you leave things alone untouched for well over a year. Shaking, you take a bandanna and wipe the dust off. You don't want Papyrus to freak out, after all. You take the suitcase out completely, and you open it. After a short pause, you figure you should change before going anywhere. After all, you shouldn't go anywhere while covered in your own blood. Even if it's dried. After you've changed into a pair of blue jeans and a green blouse, you carefully fold up your bloody yellow dress and set it to the side so you can pack it up last to be cleaned and sewn later. You then move to selecting clothing to bring with you. You start packing for a few minutes, then stop. Your throat burns and your eyes sting with tears you haven't shed yet. Shakily, you stand up and leave your room, wobbily walking over to your kitchen area where Papyrus is waiting. He looks over at you and immediately stands up from the chair he was sitting in, rushing over to you and immediately giving you a big hug. A whine escapes your throat as you begin to sob, your arms weakly wrapping around Papyrus's mid-section as you cry into his chest. _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- You and Papyrus leave the apartment building, your suitcase and pet in tow. A large gray and silver car is parked out front. The passenger side window rolls down, revealing Sans. "we came as soon as we heard," he explains to you and Papyrus as he gestures behind him. You hear Toriel call out your name. "Are you okay?" she asks, leaning out from behind Sans while sitting in the driver's seat. "We heard you were attacked! Is everything alright?" You don't say anything, so Papyrus speaks up for you. "SHE'S STILL PRETTY SHAKEN BY WHAT HAPPENED," he explains, comfortingly rubbing your shoulder and arm with the hand he has wrapped around you. "We had to bring Frisk along, I hope that's okay," Toriel says apologetically. "We couldn't get a babysitter on such short notice, and I still don't feel comfortable leaving Frisk all alone at the moment, especially after hearing about what happened to you!" "It's fine..." you say quietly. Papyrus translates louder so Toriel and Sans can hear. He goes over and opens a side door, letting you in first. As you get in, you notice Frisk in the back. They hold up a notebook that they've written something on in black marker. 'You all healed up?' the page says. You nod. The side door you got in closes behind you, and Papyrus gets in on the other side. Once everyone is buckled in, the car starts back up and begins moving. After a moment or two of silence, Papyrus reaches over and puts a comforting hand on your arm. You stare up at him, tears in your eyes. A notebook pokes out from the back, catching your attention. Frisk waves it a little, offering you to take it. A little confused, you take the notebook and look at the page it's turned to. There's a little drawing of a little white dog on top of a circle labeled 'priceless artifact'. You can't help but smile, tears dripping down your face a little. You move the notebook so none of your tears fall on it and ruin the drawing, and you quickly wipe away what you can with your free hand. "It's adorable," you tell them as you hand their notebook back. They smile and quickly scribble something else on the page, then hand it back to you. There's now a doodle of what looks like a simplified version of Frisk with an expression that consists of three lines standing next to the dog with an identifying caption labeled 'me', and there is added labeling of the 'priceless artifact' and the dog, which merely reads 'absorbing artifact'. You burst out laughing. The entire mood of the car appears to brighten. It's nice to know that a little kid's silly humor can sometimes be enough to cheer you up, even if it's only for a short time. _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- You slowly awaken in the middle of the night in Papyrus's and Sans's house, having slept on the sofa. You stretch a bit, staring up at the black ceiling. You soon notice a strange sound coming from outside. Slowly, you stand up from the sofa and walk to the front door. You reach out and pull the handle, opening the door to Snowdin. You step out onto the crisp snow, looking around. You hear the strange sound coming from so far away, yet from so close. You walk. Snowdin blurs past you, but you know exactly where you're going. There's a pair of huge heavy doors at the end of the path. You push them open. You step onto stone, and you walk through a house you've never seen before. It's warm, it's cozy, it's nice. You figure it's so nice here, that nobody would really want to leave. You go through the house, and through the front door. There's a child under the tree, crying. A human child. They're sobbing, calling for their momma, their poppa. You blink. They're laying on the ground of a dark cave, alone and hurt and sobbing as they beg for someone, anyone to hear them. Their cries slowly turn silent. You close your eyes and hear the echoing voice of a child. "It sounds like it came from over here..." "Oh! You've fallen down, haven't you..." "Are you okay? Here, get up..." "..." "Chara, huh? That's a nice name. My name is Asriel. Good golly gosh, what's all that red stuff?" "..." "Oh no! That can't be good! I-I better get mom and dad right away! Ohhhh gosh, I-I can't just leave you here..." "... I guess I'll just wait here with you until my mom comes to get me. She'll be floored when she sees a human around here after so long..." "..." "No, no, it's okay, you can sit down..." "... That red stuff's a real problem for you, ain't it? Are all humans made of it? Like monsters are made of dust?" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You wake up in a cold sweat, shivering near uncontrollably as you sit up on Papyrus's couch, clinging the blanket that was draped over you. You can feel something clinging to you, but when you reach to pull it away you find nothing there. You struggle, trying to reach around yourself to grab whatever nothingness is clinging to your back. You notice a blue glow coming from somewhere behind you, and suddenly the feeling of something clinging to you vanishes. You turn around to see Sans, one hand outstretched with a glowing blue mist fading away and one eye with a bright blue light shining with a look of rage and fear. "... you okay?" he sighs, lowering his hand as the glowing mist fades completely from it. His eye, however, does not stop its glow. "What was that...?" you manage to ask, your voice trembling with your entire body. "nothing that can hurt you, but something that can be a major problem for you," Sans explains without really explaining. "Should I... be concerned...?" you ask, your tired shaky voice cracking a bit as your intonation goes up. "at the moment?" Sans asks, the glow in his eye fading a bit. "no. it shouldn't come back for a while now that it knows i'm here." "A-and should I know exactly what it was?" you stutter, your grip on the blanket tightening as you wrap it around your shoulders. "... you best not," Sans says quietly, turning and walking back in the direction of his room, his glowing eye illuminating the dark staircase. "and you probably shouldn't tell pap either. gaster or frisk would be your best bet." You watch him walk away until the glow disappears through his door. Still shivering, you lay back down and try to sleep. Morning comes. _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- Normally you would be working today, but Grillby saw a video of what happened on YouTube before you even had the chance to request off, and immediately contacted you saying he was giving you two entire weeks off, which you can extend if the need arises. Honestly, you love having him as a boss. Papyrus comforts you as you sit by your cellphone, waiting for the police to call. Or the hospital your ex was brought to. Really, anyone who had any authority in the case between you and your ex. Your phone rings. You pick it up immediately. A woman asks for someone with your name. "This is she," you say quickly, Papyrus gently wrapping his arm around you as you shake. "This is the NYC police department, Officer Kenninger speaking," the woman says flatly. "We have some... disturbing news about the man you attacked in self-defense. First off, I have been informed that you have been concerned about whether or not he survived. As of yet, he is in a stable condition." You sigh with relief. "Oh thank God I didn't kill him," you breathe, your heart still pounding as you continue to shake in Papyrus's arms. "Yes, however..." the woman says, making your heart pound harder in fear of what may be. "... I'll spare you the gory details, but... the doctors discovered something... horrifying, in his stomach contents. It's safe to say he's going straight to jail once he's healed up. And you did the right thing in defending yourself with geodes. Honestly, based on what we've found... you're probably really lucky to even be alive right now." You feel your heart stop with shock and fear, tears welling up in your eyes as you process what that means. The policewoman says a few more things, but you aren't paying attention. Eventually, she hangs up. Papyrus doesn't ask what she said. He just holds you tight as you sob. You're scared. There's no hiding that. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Hey, this is the writer here (obviously), just wanted to say I'm abandoning this version of this fic for a new updated one now that I'm better at writing. I wanted to continue this one, but the writing is so clunky it just made me feel too embarrassed. This doesn't mean this fic will be abandoned in it's entirety, it just means I'll be redoing it! I won't be deleting this one, I'll just have it here mainly as an outline so I remember how the story goes in general. Hopefully I can make it better!The main reason as to why I'm even bothering with updating my fanfic with my new writing abilities is I am trying to write a book I'll hopefully be able to publish one day, and I really want to know if my writing is good enough for that so I'll have the best chance of getting my book published! I'm not sure yet, but I might at some point post my book on here so I can get some good feedback. I don't know if anyone will read it since it's my own thing as opposed to a work based on a pre-existing fandom, but I'm allowing my hopes to be raised on this!Sorry if you really liked this fic and the style of it, it's just not how I write anymore. I really want to continue this story, but I want to update it to someone that doesn't make me cringe as much when reading it, haha…So! If you like the story, stay tuned for the updated rewritten fic!
10715928	when the last brick	{ "Archive Warning": "Major Character Death", "Category": null, "Characters": "ISC Building, Swem Library, Millington Hall", "Fandom": "The College of William and Mary", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by swampysmut", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-24T00:00:00", "words": "177", "Additional Tags": "building smut, Inanimate Object Porn, swampy memes", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "Swampy Memes for Smutty Teens", "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": "Multi, Other", "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	"please dont leave me" isc cryed, tears swimming in his giant glass windows. "i must, my love" millinton wept, cying out as another brick fell to the cement "i have...the asbestos" "no!" isc screamed, doors open wide with sorrow. he wept some more, but millington kept dying. "please! no! i cannot live witout you milly" "but.... you....must..." millington watched as another window was ripped away by the damned humans. "you dont understand...i must die...so that you/..can live" a lone cockroach crawled out from the open door. the last. "what do you mean????" isc roared in surprise "youll find out...somedoay" millintonn spoke through crumbled teeth. he touchd isc softly with his load-bearing wall. then....he died. "nooooooooooo" isc shouted, the earth quaking with the power of his sadness but milllington could not hear him. the foundations.... were...... gone. the ground....paved over. through the cloud of dust and death, destruction was all isc could see ....but. allofasudden isc could see something through the dust something new something......thicc /swem/to be continued..?
10722396	Things We Lost in the	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel)", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Kaiyote", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-24T00:00:00", "words": "0", "Additional Tags": "Fanvids, Thor: The Dark World", "Relationship": "Loki/Thor (Marvel)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }
10707591	Beau soyez libre	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Stanley, Lefou, Madame de Garderobe (Disney), Maestro Cadenza, Gaston, Mrs. Potts (Disney), Adam (Disney) (mentioned)", "Fandom": "Beauty and the Beast (2017)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by TinyPlanetExplorer", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-23T00:00:00", "words": "1,162", "Additional Tags": "Childhood Memories, Misgendering (slightly), LeFou loves Stanley to bits, Established Relationship, Madame de Garderobe and Maestro Cadenza are Stanley's parents, idk what to tag", "Relationship": "LeFou/Stanley (Disney: Beauty and the Beast)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	LeFou whimpers as Gaston stomps away from the small boy. He called LeFou childish and went off to play with the older children. All LeFou has said, is that he would love to play hide-and-seek. Is that not a normal game to play for a nine-year-old boy? According to Gaston it’s not, but LeFou doesn’t want to go after the older boy to apologise for being childish, even though, maybe he should.“What’s wrong?” LeFou looks up from where he’s sitting on the ground, to see a child, maybe two years younger than himself, standing in front of him. LeFou shuffles his feet, looking back down and not daring to look the girl in the eye. “What do you want?” He mumbles, frustrated. Surely, she’ll mock him too. “My maman said I should try and make friends with people who seem nice. You seem nice.” She flops down onto the grass next to LeFou. “I don’t play with girls.” LeFou mumbles, remembering how Gaston had laughed at him for playing chase with a girl the week prior. “I’m not a girl!” The small boy(?) said indignant. LeFou flinches. “Sorry! I didn’t mean – Why are you wearing a dress?” The boy shuffles his feet nervously. “Because it makes me feel pretty.” The boy starts looking more and more miserable every question LeFou asks him.“I – I should go.” The boy gets up and LeFou scrambles on his feet as well. “Wait! Don’t go, I’m sorry.” LeFou sounds desperate. “I never – I never talk to kids my own age.” LeFou explains. “I don’t know how.” The other boy nods in understanding. “There are no kids for me to play with where I live, either.” LeFou steps forward. “I really do like your dress. It does make you look really pretty.” The boy brightens immediately, twirling in a circle. “You really think so? My maman made it for me!” The boy looks at LeFou, so honest and vulnerable and open and LeFou etches the sight in his memory, hoping that one day, someone will look at him like this again. It makes LeFou feel important, like he matters and he finally knows the right things to say, something that rarely happens. “Pink suits you really well.” The boy stops twirling. “Pink? This is peach!” “I-I’m sorry!” LeFou stammers. He really is a fool. The boy’s face softens. “I couldn’t tell many of the colours apart at first either.” He assures LeFou. “Until maman teached me. Do you want to play hide-and-seek with me?” LeFou perks up. “I’d love to!” “Stanleeeeeeyy.” LeFou singsongs as he enters their cottage, expecting an answer but receiving none. When he walks to their dining table he sees a small piece of parchment with a quick sketch of a castle on it. Due to LeFou’s illiteracy, Stanley and LeFou figured out a way to tell where they can be found without using letters, simply by drawing a little sketch of the place they would be at. LeFou picks up his satchel from the floor, before mounting Pote and taking off towards the castle.Ever since the curse has been broken, Stanley has spent a lot of time at the castle, trying to spend as much time with his lost family as he possibly can. Madame de Garderobe and maestro Cadenza were thrilled when their Stanley ended up on their doorstep, but they were a lot less thrilled he showed up as a part of an angry mob to kill their master. “Bonjour Monsieur LeFou.” Lumière greets as LeFou enters the castle. He is seated at the fireplace with Plumette, for it’s a rather chilly day in December. “Good afternoon, Lumière, Plumette.” “He is in Madame’s room.” LeFou nods, walking up the stairs and down the hall in the east wing. He can hear excited chatter. Maestro Cadenza walked out of the chamber, a happy smile on his face. “Ah, LeFou, salut!” “Bonjour Maestro.” LeFou smiles, the maestro talks so loud, he’s surprised the whole castle can’t hear him speaking. “Let’s go ask Mrs. Potts for a cup of tea, shall we? Stanley will surely join us in a moment.”LeFou laughs loudly at Mrs. Potts’ detailed story of how Stanley used to play pranks on all of the staff within the castle. Her face softens. “He used to be such a lonely child. He was a child of us all and we wanted him to make friends so badly, but the master never allowed the boy to leave the grounds.” She seems sad now, and Cadenza sighs. “He ran away one day. He was 17, if I’m not mistaken.” LeFou turns to Cadenza, not used to the maestro looking so serious. “It was the day the curse was cast upon the castle. The master had yelled at him for being a- for being different.” He couldn’t get the word over his lips, but LeFou heard it anyways. Sodomite.Adam had judged Stanley for his interest in males.“Stanley ran away from the grounds and forgot about it the same day. Forgot about us.” There are tears in Cadenza’s eyes. LeFou is speechless. He never knew why Stanley was in the village during the day the castle was cursed, Stanley refuses to talk about it. It all makes sense now.The door the kitchen opens, revealing Madame de Garderobe, Stanley trailing behind her. LeFou’s eyes widen as he stands up from his chair, not taking his eyes off Stanley. Stanley shuffles his feet nervously, not daring to look LeFou in the eyes. “I-” His fingers pluck at the fabric of the dress he’s wearing.LeFou slowly steps closer, taking in the sight in front of him. Stanley’s body was wrapped in delicate fabrics and his eyes were underlined with coal, his lips made a darker shade of pink.“Stanley, you-” Madame de Garderobe steps forward slightly, looking protective over her boy.LeFou places his hand on Stanley’s cheek, forcing the man to look at him. “You look gorgeous, mon amour.” Stanley perks up at that, not dropping his guard completely, not yet. “You really think so?” He asks carefully. “Yes!” “They make me feel pretty.” Stanley bites his lip, still looking unconvinced. “You look beautiful, Stanley. They do make you look pretty.” Stanley looks up, looking so honest and vulnerable and open and memories come rushing back at LeFou.The boy he met when he was young, he recognises him now, in an older version, perhaps, but he never changed his love for dresses. “The pink – Peach, suits you.” Stanley looks at him with unbelieving eyes. “You remember that?” LeFou steps forward. “How could I forget that look of pure joy?” Stanley leans down, capturing LeFou’s lips with his own, before freezing and backing up, nervously looking over his shoulder to his maman.She looks fondly at the pair. Love, that’s all she’s ever wanted for her boy and she knows that LeFou will take good care of him. Beautiful, be free.
10765677	Shepherds We Shall Be	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Daryl Dixon, Rick Grimes, Murphy MacManus, Connor MacManus, Glenn Rhee, Carl Grimes, Maggie Greene, Hershel Greene, Carol Petelier, The Governor, Woodbury People, Judith Grimes", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by Dean_loves_Cas_forever", "chapters": "1/?", "completed": "", "published": "2017-05-06T00:00:00", "words": "5,065", "Additional Tags": "The Prison, Canon Divergence, Rick mistakes Murphy for Daryl, Easy Mistake, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Not surprising considering who's in this, As Slow Burn as I can get, Jealous Daryl Dixon, Possessive Daryl Dixon, Rough Sex, Blowjobs, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk", "Relationship": "Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": "The Walking Dead, The Boondock Saints", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	With it being the end of the world there wasn't much that surprised them anymore. But this, this wasn't something they were ever expecting to see.During a run, Rick and Daryl had split up to cover the small town they'd found. Rick heard shuffling coming from upstairs and he crept up slowly, gun raised. He whipped around the corner into the master bedroom and dropped his gun with a sigh. "Jesus Daryl, what are you doing in here? We agreed that I'd cover this block and you'd cover the store." Rick said as he holstered his gun. Rick looked up at the other man and paused. "You were cutting your hair? Gotta say I'll miss it. Look like you did back at Hershel's farm." Rick raised an eyebrow as he looked over the rest of the man. "Where'd you find the clothes? I couldn't find jack when it came to clothes, found some blankets though. Where's your crossbow?" Rick was confused, he hefted his bag onto his shoulder and stepped back cautiously. He started to notice things on Daryl that he's never noticed before, or things that had never been there before. He heard more footsteps coming from the master bathroom. "Murph I found more rope." A voice laughed. Daryl turned to the Irish man and laughed too."What are ya gonna use fuckin' rope for?" Rick stepped back again, he raised his gun and so did the Irish men. "Rick? Where'r'ya?! We're meant ta be headin' back now!" Rick knew it was Daryl, the Southern lilt in his voice was too recognizable. The archer found them with his crossbow ready. "What the fuck is goin' on?" Daryl demanded. The Irish men looked at each other then burst out laughing. "Lookie here Murph. We happened upon your fuckin' doppelganger." One of them laughed hitting the other on the back. Rick and Daryl glanced at each other. "Who are you?" Rick asked. The others slowed their laughter to a stop but they kept the smiles on their faces."You haven't heard of us?" Rick rolled his eyes and looked at Daryl who shrugged."We can't of heard of you if you don't tell us who you are?" Rick said."We're the Saint's." Daryl's lookalike stated. Daryl shook his head."Names?" He bit out. "Connor and Murphy MacManus." The other said. Rick and Daryl lowered their weapons."Rick Grimes. This is Daryl Dixon." Rick introduced cautiously. The Irish men smiled and took out a pack of cigarettes. Connor offered one to Daryl and Rick, the former took one gratefully. "You got a camp?" Murphy asked as they shouldered their bags. Rick nodded then looked at Daryl for confirmation. He nodded minutely. "How many walkers have you killed?" Rick asked."Haven't been countin'." Connor answered with a glance to his brother. "How many people have you killed?" The brother's chuckled before answering."Fuck, we haven't been counting that either." Murphy replied. Daryl looked at Rick, no-one had ever been that open about who they'd killed. "Why?" "We're called the Saints. You think we're killin' people in cold blood?!" Connor asked. Murphy nodded then looked at the other two men."Yeah, the people we've killed have been scumbags." Murphy said. "We still have the guns and shit from before." Connor said waving a duffle bag in their faces. Rick nodded. Daryl looked at him surprised then pulled him to the side. "Ya really think this is a good idea?" Daryl asked in a whisper, he kept his eyes on the Irish brother. "They haven't killed anyone innocent. We'll keep an eye on them." Rick said. Daryl sighed but nodded."A'ight if ya think they're good." Daryl said. They turned back to the brother's."You can come with us. We need to finish clearing the town, gotta finish filling the truck up." Rick said The brother's cheered and high-fived each other. The four men grabbed the bags and took them to the truck. Groaning and shuffling filled their ears."Musta heard the car doors." Daryl muttered to Rick. Connor put a hand on Daryl's chest gently."We've got it." He said, Murphy started to load their guns. "Prove ourselves." Murphy said as he passed Connor his two guns. Rick and Daryl nodded skeptically then the brother's turned to the small herd. They knelt down and bowed their heads, praying quietly. Rick looked at Daryl with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Daryl shrugged and looked at the two as they stood up again. They took out all 15 walkers in a matter of seconds. They knelt again, this time next to the fallen and prayed again before turning back to Rick and Daryl. They slapped each other's backs then got into the truck with the other men. "This is going to be fun to explain." Rick mentioned offhandedly to the hunter next to him. "They're back!" Glenn shouted down to Carl. The boy jumped up and ran to open the gate for his dad and Daryl then closed it behind them. "What did you get?" Carl asked excitedly. Rick chuckled, even at 15, Carl was still very much a child. He grinned when Daryl got out of the car and handed him some books. Then he froze when the two Irish brother's stepped out. "Carl these are..." Rick started but Carl cut him off. "The Saints!" Carl exclaimed, Rick looked at his son shocked then glanced at Daryl again. "You know them?" Rick asked. "Know them? Dad, these guys have killed so many mafia men and scumbags, they're fucking awesome! Did you not see them no the news?!" Carl rambled excitedly, he never took his eyes off the brother's. "I knew I recognised Daryl!" Carl hopped over to the Irish men and introduced himself. Rick and Daryl shared a worried glance then hauled the bags into the prison."Hey everyone. We got some new people on the run and shit's going to be confusing from now on." Rick announced after the family had calmed down slightly."What do you mean?" Hershel asked."Means one of 'em has my face." Daryl answered bitterly. Everyone started speaking at once then the twins walked in and silence filled the common area. Murphy smirked and back-handed Connor's arm lightly."Ya gonna introduce us then?" Murphy asked, Rick looked at him and nodded."Everyone this is Murphy and Connor MacManus. Boys this is Maggie and Carol, my sisters, Glenn, my brother, Hershel, father and Carl and Judith, my kids." Rick pointed to each person in turn except Judith who was sleeping in her cell. They all nodded to each other then continued their business. The brother's watched everyone interact curiously but both were mostly confused by Rick and Daryl's relationship. "What do you think's going on between them?" Connor asked his brother, knowing no-one would understand them. "I don't know but what do you say we fuck around with them?" Murphy replied with a mischievous grin."What are you suggesting?" Connor leant back against the wall, smirking too. A few members of the group looked at them, well at Murphy. They rarely saw Daryl even curl his lips in a smile so to see someone who looked like their beloved hunter full on grinning was a strange sight to them. "I look like Daryl, so if Rick's attracted to him, which by the looks of it he is, then to some extent he'll be attracted to me, right?" Murphy started, he kept stealing glances at the two men stood over the weapons. Connor nodded. "Aye." Connor says acknowledging his brother's theory and edging him to continue."So I say, I try and make Daryl jealous. You know, work him up enough to get him to do something." Murphy finished with a pleased smirk and leant back against one of the tables. Connor laughed lightly and nodded."That's a good plan, Murph." Connor said with a smile. He reached out and gently slapped Murphy's cheek, to which the other retaliated and slapped him back. The group watched as the boys started to play fight and small smiles set on their faces. They stopped fighting when they heard giggles, they stood and looked towards the sound. Judith ran out of her cell giggling as Carl chased her, she ran straight into Daryl's legs and hid. Daryl's lips curved upwards and he picked her up. "Is he tryna get ya?" Daryl cooed, he tickled her sides lightly and she hid her face in his neck. The family watched the scene fondly. Connor and Murphy glanced at each other, Connor nodded. They saw how Rick was watching the two boys tickle her longingly, they knew these were good men who'd gone through shit. "Rick, can ya show me to the showers?" Murphy asked, Rick nodded and lead the way with once last look at the boys. Daryl watched Rick walk away with Murphy and something stirred in him. Rick turned to Murphy as they reached the shower room and was surprised to see the man already had his shirt off, he watched the man walk by and noticed he had all the same tattoos as Daryl with 5 additional tattoos. Rick swallowed thickly. "We don't have hot water but water pressures alright." Rick said, he looked away from Murphy as the man undressed. "Murphy?" Rick said to get the man's attention."Murph, you can call me Murph." He answered. Rick bowed his head in acknowledgement then continued. "Do you want to share a cell with Connor or do you want separate cells?" Rick asked, he kept his eyes away from the naked man in front of him. "We'll share." Murphy said, he turned on the shower then got in. No shame. Rick nodded again, a blush worked it's way up his neck. "Rick? You ok?" Carol asked as the man walked into the kitchen. "Err yeah. Murphy, he's very... erm open." Rick stuttered, Carol chuckled. "You boys are so stupid." Carol commented lightly and turned back to her job. Rick looked at her confused but shook his head and walked into the common room. Connor was talking to Glenn and Maggie, Daryl was still with Carl and Judith and Hershel was reading. "Connor, you and Murphy can take the cell over there." Rick said pointing to a cell under the perch in the middle of the cell block. "One cell?" Connor asked. "Yeah, Murphy said you'd share." Rick said. Connor stood and started towards the shower room, Rick looked at his family and followed the Irish man with them following closely behind."Murph, why the fuck you saying we're going to share?!" Connor shouted as he stormed into the shower room, uncaring that his brother was naked. He strode up the his twin and smacked him upside the head. "The fuck?" Murphy said, he turned and slapped the other back. Once again the boys were fighting, rolling around on the wet floor and neither man cared that Murphy was naked or that they had an audience. Daryl looked over to Rick and something fluttered inside him again when he saw the other man's eyes focused on the naked man. "Get off of me, ya prick." Connor yelled."Hey, respect your elders!" Murphy snapped kicking his legs out."Ya don't know you're older than me, fucker." Connor twisted Murphy's arm back and the other man hit his brother's head. "Ma said the one with the bigger cock was born first." Murphy bit out as he rolled them over. Rick blushed and looked away from the brother's."I'd had ice on mine." Connor grabbed at his twins arms. Murphy broke out of his brother's grasp and stood tall and proud. "Brother, God hath blessed me with a dick that is way above average." Murphy announced as he signed the cross with a big smile. Connor huffed and pulled himself up, he looked down at his own crotch then shook his head. "Whatever." Connor waved his hand in dismissal. Rick looked away from the naked man again but this time glanced at Daryl. His mind drifted to the hunter's body; that was another thing that set Daryl and Murphy apart, Daryl had broad shoulders and thick arms, sure Murphy had the broad shoulders and muscled arms but they resembled that of Daryl's back at Hershel's farm and Daryl's muscle mass had increased since them... by a lot. Other than that, they both had similar bodies and that begged the question, if Murphy was so well endowed then was Daryl the same? Rick shuddered minutely at that thought. Everyone was laughing quietly at the brother's argument."Come on, let's go eat." Carol said. Immediately everyone turned and rushed to the common area. Rick glanced at the brother's then followed his family. Daryl glared at the MacManus brothers as the family listened to them speak, telling stories of their glory days. He wanted so much to hate them but he couldn't. Carl noticed the quiet hunter and turned to him "You're going hunting tomorrow, right?" He asked softly, Daryl looked at him surprised and nodded. "Can I come?""You'll have ta ask yer dad." Daryl murmured. Carl nodded. "Thanks for the books by the way." Daryl smirked and nodded again. Carl stood up and pulled Daryl with him, the hunter followed confused. Carl dragged him out to the farm, away from everyone. "What's wrong?" Carl asked, Daryl shuffled awkwardly and looked down at his feet. "Come on, I know something's up, so what is it?" Carl stepped up to the man and held his arm comfortingly, he was happy to see that Daryl didn't flinch away from him."Nothin'." Daryl muttered hiding behind his long hair. Carl ducked down to look under the dark strands."Dare I know you, something's wrong and I want to know what's up." Carl said softly. Daryl looked around nervously and shook his head. "Please.""It's nothin' really." Carl shook his head."Is it something about the Saints?" Daryl huffed, he'd wanted it to sound angry but it just came out sad. "Murphy?" The archer looked up at the sky, at the fence, anywhere that wasn't the teen in front of him."Ain't nothing to do with that prick." He replied half-heartedly. Carl snorted."So it is. What do you have against him?" Carl asked, he made his voice soft."Nothing against him. He's just a better version of me, I guess." Daryl finally looked at Carl, expecting to see pity but instead he saw disbelief and sadness."What do you mean?" Carl stepped forward and took Daryl's hand gently in his. Daryl smiled and squeezed the boy's hand."He's a good man, he's killed but he's killed bad people. His only scars are from him being a good man, he had-has a loving family. He has more courage... more courage to..." Daryl trailed off and looked down at their hands."More courage to talk to dad?" Carl asked. "You are a good man, you have a loving family and your scars? They're nothing to be ashamed of, they make you who you are." Daryl opened his mouth to object but Carl stopped him. "You think you aren't courageous or strong because of those scars but they show how strong you are, you went through that and you came out the other side the strongest man I know. Every day you wake up with all this shit in your head, making yourself think you aren't worth a dime, but you get up anyway, you get up and you work your ass off for us. You look after Judith and I like we're your own. You put us over yourself in a heartbeat even laying down your life for us. You don't need courage to talk to dad because he'd choose you over anyone, not Murphy, not Shane, you. You've been there for my dad and I for a long time, through everything, you were there. And Daryl if that doesn't make you the strongest, most selfless son of a bitch out there then I don't know what does. And yes I admire the Saints but they have nothing on you. I'd choose you over them any day too. You're like a second father to me and I love you." Carl said, he looked into the other man's eyes and held his gaze as he spoke so he knew that the man believed what he was saying. Daryl smiled and looked down at his feet with watery eyes. Carl wrapped his arms around the man and held on tight. "Hey how'd you stay in shape?" Carl asked when he stepped back. Daryl shook his head and laughed. "What?! I wanna get stronger." Carl laughed defensively. "I'll show ya after we eat." Daryl smiled and lead Carl back into the prison with a hand on the boy's back. As soon as they entered the common area, Judith jumped down and ran to Carl. Rick looked over at Daryl and then looked back to Murphy. The hunter was wearing his usual ripped black jeans and sleeveless shirt with his leather vest and boots, his tan skin was muddy and sweaty, just the way he liked it. The Irish man was wearing a black shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows and blue jeans with boots and his black P-coat, his skin was clean from the shower. They were so similar but so different at the same time. After everyone finished eating they left to do their own things; Murphy, Connor, Rick and Glenn stayed seated, happily talking. "C'mon Carl." Daryl said leading the boy to the clear space between the tables and the stairs to the perch. "Let's see ya do a push-up." Daryl knelt down next to the boy as he got into position, the 4 men at the table turned so they could watch the lesson and talk at the same time. "Naw like this." Daryl laughed after watching Carl attempt to do one push-up. Daryl showed Carl how to do it, then praised the boy when he successfully did one. "That's easy!" Carl exclaimed. "Let's see who can do more." Daryl snorted but nodded. "You're going to lose." Rick laughed once they'd started. The four men started to cheer for them."Go! Keep going!" Carl said when he collapsed. Daryl laughed and kept going until he started to shake. In the end, Carl fell after 52 and Daryl fell at 147. The other men decided they wanted to try to see where'd they get to. Rick got to 124, Murphy got to 131, Glenn got to 96 and Connor got to 127. Rick looked over at Daryl and blushed. Carl nudged the hunter and nodded to his dad, who was looking at his feet. "Rick? Carl wants ta go huntin' with me tomorrow, that ok with you?" Daryl asked lightly slapping Rick's upper arm. The archer reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, he lit it and took a drag. Rick smiled at the man and nodded. "Of course. Better get to bed then Carl." Rick said. Carl huffed but smiled and nodded. He hopped up and hugged Rick, Daryl and Glenn then waved to the Saints. "Night." He said as he wandered back to his cell. Daryl nodded his goodnight then wandered off to his cell. Rick watched him leave, admiring the man's form unabashedly. Connor turned to Murphy and grinned before retiring to their cell with a nod. Glenn followed suit leaving Rick and Murphy alone together. Murphy leant close to the man."By the looks of it ya haven't told him." Murphy whispered."Told-told him what?" Rick stuttered with a blush. Murphy smiled."Told Daryl that you like him." Murphy replied leaning closer. "I want to help." Rick looked at Murphy surprised then looked over to Daryl's cell. "Why?" Rick asked suspiciously. Murphy chuckled and leant back on his hands. "You deserve it, both of you." Murphy simply said. Rick was silent for a moment before he nodded. "I've already started my plan so you just need to play along, okay?" Murphy added with a smirk. Rick nodded again. "Thank you." Rick muttered, he patted the Irishman's arm then retired to his cell. Rick woke up before the sun came up the next morning and entered the common area curiously upon hearing faint clicking. "Mornin'." Murphy greeted with a smile. He was sat at one of the tables field stripping his guns."Morning, where's Connor?" Rick only asked because he could tell that the Saints were the sort of brother's who were so in sync that they'd wake up at the same time. "Shower." Murphy answered keeping his eyes on the guns. "You said you'd started your plan?" Murphy hummed. "What's your plan?" Murphy looked up at Rick and nodded towards Daryl's cell."Well, I figured Daryl was pretty protective over what's his so if I work him up enough he'll do something to establish his dominance." Murphy explained."Work him up?" Rick asked."Ya know make him jealous." Murphy replied with a joyous inflection. "Daryl, Daryl doesn't get jealous." Rick murmured, shaking his head. They both heard footsteps on the catwalk upstairs."I'll show you." Murphy whispered. Daryl stomped down the metal steps and scowled when he noticed the two men standing close and whispering to each other. "Told you." Murphy whispered, he nodded over to the man who was hiding behind his hair once again. Rick turned to Daryl and caught the brief flash of envy before the man looked away."Morning Daryl, did you sleep well?" Rick asked with a smile. Daryl grunted and Murphy snickered. "Somethin' funny?" Daryl hissed, Murphy shook his head and raised his hands in surrender still chuckling. He glanced at Rick and left the room with a nod. Daryl grunted again then pulled out a packet. "No more packets left?" Rick asked as he stepped forward, closer to Daryl. The hunter took the paper between his fore and middle finger to open the tobacco, he glanced up at Rick through his hair. The look wasn't meant to be seductive but it still made Rick's heart stutter and made his skin heat up. Rick watched his friend roll the cigarette, unable to look away. Daryl smirked slightly as he looked down at the task at hand and, as he bought it up to his mouth to seal it, he made eye contact with the other man. Rick blushed as he watched the man's tongue peek between his lips and wet the length of the paper. They maintained eye contact while Daryl took the cigarette between his lips and light it. Daryl looked over Rick while taking a drag, the other man was making him feel things he'd never felt before; jealousy, a teasing playfulness, lust. He showed off by puffing out a smoke ring then slowly exhaled to release the rest of the smoke, which gently curled around Rick's face like the leader's hair. Rick smirked at the man then glanced away shyly. Daryl stepped closer to Rick as he took another drag, Rick watched Daryl's lips as he did so and felt his skin heating up again. Daryl noticed the leader's flushed skin with a small smile then stepped even closer to Rick. Once they were nose to nose, Daryl slowly blew the smoke out of his mouth and over Rick's face. While the act of having someone blow cigarette smoke in one's face was usually unwanted, Rick's breath hitched excitedly. All he had to do was lean forward and..."Daryl?!" The hunter stepped back with a smirk on his face then, before he turned to answer the Irish man, he winked at the other man. Connor and Murphy entered the common area with wide smiles. "Can we come with ya?" Connor asked once they'd stopped in front of the hunter. "Yeah we want to make ourselves useful." Murphy added. Daryl shrugged and nodded. "We're eating first then we'll go." Daryl said before wandering off to the kitchen to get a can of peaches for each of them. "Here." Daryl muttered, handing Connor and Murphy a can each. "I got ya oranges." Rick blushed at the man's thoughtfulness and thanked him. Carl woke up not long after everyone had eaten. "Come on let's go!" Carl whined excitedly. Rick and Daryl chuckled. Daryl nodded and started to gather everything they needed. "Be careful, okay?" Rick said to his son in a concerned tone. Carl nodded. "And listen to Daryl." He continued, once again Carl nodded. "And..." "Dad!" Carl exclaimed with a laugh. "I'll be careful, I promise.""And listen to Daryl." Rick insisted. "And listen to Daryl." Carl parroted mockingly but he knew his dad was worried. Rick pulled the teen into a hug then lightly pushed him towards the door. "Go wait outside." Rick laughed. Carl smiled then wandered outside. "Ya want us to listen to Daryl too?" Connor mocked. Rick raised an eyebrow and smirked. "That would probably be a wise idea." Rick said. Connor shook his head with a huff of laughter then the brothers followed Carl outside. Daryl walked down the metal steps with a duffle on one shoulder and his crossbow in hand. He approached Rick with a small smile. "We won't be gone long. I saw a deer wanderin' 'round here not too long ago." Daryl said softly. "Be careful, watch out for Carl." Rick whispered, Daryl looked into the leader's eyes and nodded. "Of course." Daryl replied sincerely. Rick smiled his thanks and pulled the other man into a quick hug. "Be safe." Rick called as the hunter walked away. They tracked the deer for 3 hours before Daryl could put a bolt between its eyes. Daryl hefted it onto his broad shoulders then lead the other 3 to a clearing. "What are we doing? We got the deer, shouldn't we be heading back?" Connor asked confused as they sat down on a log. "We have ta gut it." Daryl said pulling out his knife. Connor and Murphy looked at each other with grossed out looks on their faces. "Really? You killed people for a living." Carl laughed. The twins scowled at home half-heartedly. "We didn't gut them! We just killed them!" Connor insisted. Daryl snorted and started to gut the deer. Carl watched, entranced, occasionally asking questions. Daryl entertained the boy with a smile and was pleased to see that even the twins seemed interested. They were all laughing at something Carl had said when they heard a loud snap. Daryl dropped his knife immediately and raised his crossbow, the twins raised their guns and the three men stood around Carl. They heard another twig snap and the three men turned to the left. "Dare!" Carl shouted and the men's heads whipped around. A man had the boy in a chockhold with a gun to his head. "Let him go!" Daryl growled angrily. The stranger grinned sickly. "Drop your weapons." He demanded. Daryl threw his crossbow down and glared at the man. Reluctantly Connor and Murphy did the same. "Good. Go ahead." The stranger said nodding to someone behind them. Hands grabbed at Daryl's arms and around his shoulders. The hunter shouted and thrashed but there were too many hands. "Let him go." Daryl growled but the stranger just laughed. "I don't think you're in any position to be giving orders." The stranger stood back loosening his grip slightly only to hit Carl in the back of his neck knocking the teen out. Daryl growled out angrily and began thrashing again. The twins glanced at each other then at Daryl. "Who are you?" Murphy asked and the stranger turned his attention on the Irishman. "Oh we have twins." The stranger exclaimed clapping his hands, the men around the stranger laughed. "I'm the Governor." He said proudly. "And who might you be?" "Murphy and Connor MacManus. That's Daryl Dixon and... Carl." Murphy knew Carl's last name but he didn't want to the strangers to know they had more people. "Carl Dixon." Daryl glanced at Murphy with thanks in his eyes, Murphy nodded minutely. Daryl tried to ignore the warm feeling in his chest when Murphy called the teen Carl Dixon, he knew it was longing, he knew what he wanted but he wasn't sure he could get it. "Well Murphy, I'm going to take Daryl here now." The Governor said, the men holding Daryl dragged the man into the surrounding trees. Murphy went to move but Connor held his brother back. "Ok! See you around." The Governor said abruptly then turned and lead his men back through the forest. The brothers watched in shock then sprung into action. Connor lifted Carl onto his shoulders in a firemans lift while Murphy packed everything away and lifted the deer onto his own shoulders. "Crossbow. Get his crossbow." Connor said before they stepped away. "Right." Murphy picked up the weapon then lead the way back to the prison. Glenn opened the gate and shut it behind them but looked through it confused. "Where's...?" Glenn turned to them and noticed that Connor was carrying Carl. "What happened?!" Murphy shook his head and walked straight into the prison with Connor. They found Rick in the common area with Judith and Maggie. "What's happened?!" Rick asked when he saw Carl. He looked behind the twins searching for a certain hunter but his shoulders drooped when he couldn't see him. "Where's Daryl?" He asked Murphy while Connor laid the teen in his cell. Murphy looked down at the floor. "What happened, Murph?" Rick pressed. "We were in a clearing, gutting the damn deer when some guys came out of nowhere and grabbed Carl then grabbed Daryl. The prick knocked Carl out then took Daryl somewhere. I don't know where, I'm sorry." Murphy looked at Rick. The man had tears in his eyes but he was looking up at the ceiling, trying to blink them away. "I'm sorry, Rick. There was nothin' we could do that wouldn't have gotten one of your boys hurt or killed." Murphy said softly. Rick shook his head and laughed humourlessly."It's not your fault, Murph. I don't blame you for anything. You got my son home safely and we'll find Daryl." Rick insisted with a sad smile. Connor stepped out of Carl's cell and stood next to his brother. "We will find him." He said determinedly with a sharp nod.
10758009	With Love	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Chibita (Osomatsu), Matsuno Karamatsu", "Fandom": "おそ松さん \| Osomatsu-san (Anime)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Teen And Up Audiences", "author": "by kotaka_kun", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-29T00:00:00", "words": "784", "Additional Tags": "Domestic Fluff, mentions of their sad pasts, i guess this is a future fic?", "Relationship": "Chibita/Matsuno Karamatsu", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Karamatsu thought himself the luckiest man alive. He had a humble abode -- a small apartment -- that he shared with his boyfriend of almost seven years now, and they lived together in relative contentment. Arguments were rare, but their occasional dispute usually ended in Karamatsu being the first to apologize. Having all but grown up together, the two men had long since fallen into a rhythm of sorts, and Karamatsu often liked to say that their hearts surely beat as one, for no other two people could possibly connect on such an emotional level as they had. He was convinced that the gods above had written them into the most romantic love story, and they'd been predestined to meet and fall in love from the moment they were born.Chibita usually said that he was overreacting.But that wasn't to say that he didn't feel that they were in fact each other's better half. Karamatsu was the type to believe in fate and destiny and all those other silly ideals. It made him seem rather naive, but Chibita didn't hate it. But Chibita liked to think himself more grounded, more of a realist than the optimist that he considered Karamatsu to be.Perhaps they were two sides of the same coin. They complemented each other so well it often surprised even Chibita, and as they settled into their comfortable life together, they both found themselves feeling as though they'd finally found a home -- neither of them had had an ideal life thus far, one of them having a dysfunctional family, and the other not having family at all, but they weren't about to let that get in their way of finding happiness together. Their home was a place they felt welcomed in, a place where they could be themselves in, a place where they could spend uninterrupted time with the person dearest to them. "Is something different in the way you seasoned tonight's meal, Chibita? It was exquisite." Karamatsu said, wiping the corners of his lips daintily as he pushed his empty plate away and leaned back in his chair. He never grew tired of Chibita's cooking, as it was always impeccable, but tonight's was especially delicious.The nikujaga had had the perfect balance of sweet and savory, with each cut of beef and vegetable infused with the delectable flavor, but at the same time not overpowering the flavor of the ingredient. And the rice had been cooked to Karamatsu's preference, having been put into the pot with just a little extra water so each grain was just a little puffier, just how he liked it. It overjoyed Karamatsu when Chibita adjusted his cooking to Karamatsu's tastes."No." Chibita said with a shake of his head. And he really hadn't. He'd made Karamatsu nikujaga many times before, and as far as he was concerned, this pot was the same as all the other times he'd made it. But for all that Karamatsu complimented him and his cooking, his words were hardly ever empty praise, so maybe there was something different if he said so. "Maybe it's because I made it with a little extra love tonight."It had been meant as a joke he’d never tell, made to be a sarcastic remark if anything. But the moment the words left his mouth, he knew he’d said them with too much sincerity, and his cheeks began to burn as he realized that he’d meant it too. Clearly Karamatsu had rubbed off on him, because there was no way in hell he could ever think up this sort of cheesy crap on his own. But after a long week of barely having even the time to bid each other a good day at work, he’d been excited to have Karamatsu eat his food fresh off the stove. He had prepared the food with extra love. But Karamatsu wasn’t supposed to have known that.He could feel his ears turning red, and as he looked up in horror at Karamatsu, ready to make some excuse or bad attempt at brushing it off as a joke, but his words died at the back of his throat when he saw the reverent look on Karamatsu’s face, and the way his cheeks were flushed in embarrassment as well."Chibita, you-""No!""No?""Well, not no, but-""So... yes?""No.""No?""Well, yes, but-""Yes?""No, but yes.""No, but yes?""Yes."Karamatsu was the first to crack a smile, and Chibita found himself following in suit. They both dissolved into a fit of giggles, their laughter filling their home with a warmth that only their happiness could.Karamatsu no longer thought himself to be the luckiest man alive.He knew it.
10798035	Truth of the Matter	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Gen", "Characters": "John Winchester, Dean Winchester", "Fandom": "Supernatural", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by jennytork", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-05-02T00:00:00", "words": "248", "Additional Tags": "Canon Compliant, Good John Winchester", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	So, Dean missed another day of school and I got a phone call. I told the busybodies he still had a touch of the flu and – though he was better – I still didn't feel comfortable sending him in.That satisfied them, and that was that.The truth of the matter was that I really didn't feel comfortable sending Dean to school.At least not until those bruises completely faded.If he showed up with those, there would be questions. Possibly CPS, which is the last thing we need – at least until my ankle heals up and I can drive us outta here.The poltergeist had taken a special shine to me – thrown me around to the point my ankle had fractured and my gun was just out of reach. And then, suddenly, Dean was there – my brave fourteen year old distracting the poltergeist, taking a beating so I could get my gun and blast the mirror it was attached to.We burned the mirror remnants and warded the house to high heaven, then headed home.I was going to be laid up for at least six weeks, and Dean looked as if he'd been beaten up. Nobody was going to believe what had beaten him up, so he developed a handy case of "flu" and coughed on cue when the school would call.In the meantime, he took good care both of me and of the house – and always, of Sammy.My big damn hero, that boy.END
10729251	All because of a summer	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "Multi", "Characters": "Jord (Captive Prince), Arnoul (Captive Prince), Auguste (Captive Prince), Pallas (Captive Prince), Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s), Nikandros (Captive Prince)", "Fandom": "Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by jezalex", "chapters": "16/16", "completed": "2017-05-02", "published": "2017-04-25T00:00:00", "words": "18,189", "Additional Tags": null, "Relationship": "Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Laurent decided to go to Acquitart to see for himself the damages caused by the summer storm. Arnoul described extensive damage to the roof of the oldest part of the fort and Laurent thought it might be better to take a look before deciding if the building should be repaired or not, after all it was a very old and not particularly attractive tower. Laurent had some time for himself with no pressing political decisions to be made, current affairs were dealt with by the council and Damen was in Ios meeting his assembled kyros, laurent still prefering not to be around at such time. Damen had been crowned King of Akielos at the Kingsmeet over one year ago and Laurent was King of Vere since early spring this year.As soon as he caught sight of the tower Laurent noticed that the damage was indeed extensive, the roof had collapsed and brought down some of the upper part of the walls as well. « Was anyone injured ? » were his first words to Arnoul as the old man’s letter had only mentioned the damaged tower.« No your Highness » replied Arnoul « but when we cleared out the rubbles we found a large chest I had no idea was up in the tower. It has been some years since I went up there. I had it brought down to your study as I thought you would want to look at it »Laurent frowned wondering if Arnoul was not going a bit senile, why would he be interested in looking at some old chest someone had stored out of the way in a room where no one ever went. After he bathed and dined he entered his study to see what Arnoul was fussing about and stopped dead at the sight of the starburst and initials A – A - V carved on the lid of the large chest. It was one of Auguste . He had left it at Acquitart before going to join the army at Marlas. Laurent knew that this chest contained some of Auguste’s most treasured possessions. Laurent had not thought of what had happened to his brother’s belongings after Marlas, too distraught by his brother’s death and by his uncle’s unsavory attentions on him. Now his brother’s past was staring him in the face.The large chest was locked and Laurent had no idea what had happened to the key so he called out Jord who he was sure could be relied on to get the lock picked. Sure enough, it took Jord only 5 minutes to get the lid open and Laurent was able to peer at the contents of the chest. He asked to be left alone. He did not trust his own feelings when it came to handling his brother’s things and he feared that his hands might tremble a little bit. The top layer contained casual clothing, Auguste’s old favorites, then some old toys Laurent couldn’t remember ever seeing and some books. Laurent was interested in the books, of course, one especially caught his attention as it was a large poetry book he did not know his brother possessed; poetry had never been Auguste kind of reading. Laurent opened the book and discovered that the center of the pages had in fact been neatly cut out to disguise a box like space filled with several folded letters. Shocked Laurent first closed the book and walked to the window looking out. He needed time to think and come to term with the fact that Auguste must have had something to hide. He would not have taken so much care in hiding those letters if they did not contain secrets. He had to make a decision: should Auguste’s secrets be burned and never be known by another or should Laurent read those letters?laurent had to know of course. He took the letters out of the box, opened and flattened them and then sorted them out by dates before starting to read with the most ancient ones first. The letters were short notes and all from one person only, a girl called Henriette. And they were love letters spanning for several months and obviously an answer to the ones Auguste has sent.So Laurent discovered that his brother had fallen in love and had had a physical relationship with a girl outside marriage despite the absolute taboo in place in Vere. It was also immediately apparent that Auguste could not have married her because not only she was not of royal blood but also not even of noble birth; she was instead a very ordinary girl from the village of Acquitart. Laurent who was now in the throes of love himself with Damen understood how the girl and her brother must have felt for each other and his heart lurched when he saw that the last letter was dated on the day before Auguste had left Acquitart for the fields of Marlas and his untimely tragic death. Laurent could not stop the trembling of his hands or the twisting feeling in his stomach when he read Henriette’s sweet words, how she was happy that Auguste was glad that she was expecting his child and trusted him as he promised to get things sorted out somehow upon his return from the war.Laurent being Laurent decided immediately that it was now his duty to find out what had happened to the child and its mother and to fulfill his brother’s promise to sort things out even if 8 years had now passed since that last letter had been written.As it was now very late in the evening, Laurent decided to wait until the next morning before questioning Arnoul or even better his wife Marjorie because he had the feeling that she probably knew more than her husband possibly could on this delicate matter.So after breakfast the next day Laurent found himself talking to Marjorie who was busy checking the vegetable patch of her garden. She was most surprised of course to see her King seeking her out and Laurent went straight to the point: who in the village was called Henriette? Marjorie flushed and looked embarrassed at the question and Laurent realized that she was going to tell him all she knew. Henriette was a lace-maker who used to work at the fort lingerie, mending, embroidering and lace-making for the royal family but Marjorie said that she no longer was in Acquitart, she left to live with an aunt some years ago and had never returned. Laurent guessed that her pregnancy had been the reason for leaving; according to Marjorie she was a lovely and bright girl much loved by her parents. Her mother had passed away now but her father was still living in the village. Laurent thanked Marjorie and after being told where Henriette’s father lived he was on his way to find him. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- No one in Acquitart was more surprised than Henriette’s father, Emile, when he opened his front door to find his King on his threshold. Flushed and bowing he stood on the doorstep not knowing what to do and flushing even more when Laurent suggested that maybe he could come inside to talk.Yes, Emile had a daughter called Henriette, yes she had gone to live with her aunt Chantal - who was his own younger sister - in Fortaine 8 years ago, no he had never seen her again because she had died of fever a few months later. Laurent hesitated to mention her pregnancy, it was so taboo that maybe the poor man never knew of it, maybe the arrangement had been made secretly between the girl, her mother and her aunt. Still, Laurent had to know whether or not his brother’s child was alive. He spun a tale that Marjorie wished to send some linen to Henriette’s aunt but had forgotten where she lived. The old man was surprised of course that the king had come himself rather than Marjorie for the information but nevertheless he gave him directions on how to find Chantal because one simply does not question his King’s request.Now Laurent had to think. He could not afford his interest in this child (if there was a child) to become known. Damen and himself had to tread very carefully since they became Kings of their respective countries. After hundreds of years of war between Akielos and Vere the revival of the old Artesian Empire uniting the 2 ancient enemies into one single country was not going to be easy. It was not just the painful memories of the last and still recent wars that were causing problems but also the difference in customs, languages and moral values.Laurent and Damen were both each working with their respective councils in order to pass new laws to get the countries to come together. In Akielos Damen had abolished slavery, slaves being now paid servants and in Vere Laurent had made it illegal for a pet to be under 18 but so far sex between man and woman outside marriage was still frowned upon in Vere.As King Laurent had to be very careful about his reputation, his uncle had managed to blacken his character in the past and although the council of Vere had cleared Laurent of wrong doings and crowned him, his alliance and relationship with the prince-killer, now King of Akielos, was not approved by everyone in the country far from it, neither was the revival of the Artes Empire. If Laurent was seen in the company of a young child, questions regarding his morality could also be asked and complicate further his and Damen’s reunification program.So he had to be careful and trust no one to find the child, disguise would have to be used once more but a better one than an earring or a blue dress this time because he was known at Fortaine and could easily be recognized. He put Jord in the confidence he had no doubt at all now that Jord would not be swayed again into the kind of foolishness that had happened with Aymeric and Jord could also give him very good advice and protection as always.Laurent spent the next few days interesting himself with the new plans for rebuilding the damaged tower, improving it and adding balconies and windows as it would not need to be a fortified tower any longer with peace reigning now at the border. In fact Laurent was dying to get going to Fortaine but to perfect his disguise he needed a few days for his stubble to grow... ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- On the day they had decided to depart, Jord and Laurent left Acquitart at dawn – unseen by anyone - in a small plain carriage dressed in plain ordinary clothes. Jord had colored Laurent’s stubble and hair brown. He had promised him that the coloring was not permanent and warned Laurent that therefore he should keep out of the rain. Thus set they made their way towards the village near the fort of Fortaine where Henriette’s aunt was living. It took them 2 days to get there, arriving late afternoon on the 2nd day.In the village of Fortaine, they followed the directions given by Henriette’s father and had no difficulties in finding the house where Henriette had sought to live during her pregnancy. It was a plain cottage, standing a little out of the main road, it had no immediate neighbors and it looked as it had a small vegetable patch at the back. Laurent decided to go and knock at the door on his own not wanting to frighten Chantal at the sight of 2 strange men on her doorstep. The door was opened by a woman, of about 35 to 40 years of age, with a weary tired look. She was thin and had light brown hair held in a bun.« My husband is not here, « she said, « he is working in the fields and I have no money to give you, you will have to wait until he gets back ».« Lady, I don’t want any money from you, » said Laurent, « I wish to speak to you about your niece Henriette who I believe stayed with you 8 years ago ».The woman was stunned, first of all, she had never been called « Lady » before, and then she was most surprised to hear a stranger mention Henriette, as far as she knew no one remembered the wretched girl. She was a little overawed by Laurent’s smart accent and standing which contrasted with his ordinary general looks but he had a nice smile and she did not feel threatened by him so she invited him to enter the cottage. She did not wish to discuss her niece on her door steps. There was only one room with windows looking out the front and back gardens. A back door was open and Laurent could hear children at play outside. There was a staircase going up to the first floor where he presumed the bedrooms were.She awkwardly offered a seat to Laurent and waited for him to speak. Laurent had thought carefully about the story he was going to tell and came to the conclusion that the nearest he kept to the truth the easier it would be (leaving out the small matter of his true identity of course). So he told her about finding a letter from Henriette to his brother mentioning the pregnancy and of his trip to see Henriette’s father. He saw Chantal becoming a little distressed and he quickly reassured her that he had made no mention of the pregnancy to her brother. Chantal was immediately relieved, she told Laurent that at the time of Henriette’s arrival she was hersef a young widow without children and that she had welcomed her very distraught niece and done all she could for her. But Henriette was rather frail, she also was broken hearted and although she fought to live for her child she did not survive the birth.« What of the child ?» asked Laurent anxiously.« He is fine » replied Chantal, « after Henriette died we found a love letter in her things from the child’s father and it was signed with an A so I chose to name him Adrien».« Have you still got the letter ? » asked Laurent.« No, I had remarried by the time Henriette gave birth and my new husband burnt the letter, he said it was dangerous to keep it because it revealed that Henriette and A were not married contrary to the tale we had spun that Henriette was also a widow. We could not risk having our family tainted by keeping a bastard child with us especially as I was expecting my first child at the time. I have 4 children of my own now, 2 of them are twins. Life is very difficult with 5 children to care for » she added.Laurent remembered her first words to him when he came to her door and asked « you are short of money? », « Well with 5 children, a rent to pay and a husband who only occasionally works in the fields, yes we are short of money. But come and see your nephew, if you are sure that he is so » she said.She got up and went to the back garden where 5 children were playing, well not quite, 4 were playing, one was working in the vegetable patch. « Adrien » called Chantal, the lad working in the vegetable patch looked up at his aunt with a weary look on his face, « They’re not fighting, aunt, only playing, I do keep an eye on them, » he said. If Laurent had had any doubts at all regarding the child’s parentage it vanished as soon as he looked at him for the boy was tall and slim with golden curls and blue eyes. His features were very like his own as a child, Adrien could have posed for the portrait of Laurent and Auguste that was hanging on the wall in the gallery in Arles. His throat tight with emotion Laurent could only nod his head. Now the boy was watching him with apprehension and with tears welling in his eyes,« No, please, aunt, » he said, »please, please, I want to stay here, I promise I will work harder, don’t let him take me away».Now Laurent was frowning, not understanding the boy’s reaction, and why he should be so afraid of being taken away, he turned to Chantal who was now bright red. « It’s because my husband finds it too difficult to feed us all, » she said, » he has made enquiries to send Adrien away somewhere where he could earn his keep ».Laurent felt cold anger in his heart. Because of the child’s looks he had a pretty good idea of what type of « work » he would be compelled to do. Underage pets were outlawed now in Vere but Laurent was under no illusion that some brothels must still keep pretty girls and boys like Adrien hidden in their establishments for their special rich and depraved customers. Also Fortaine was at the border with Akielos and even if slavery was outlawn there, it wasn’t in Patras, and Laurent and Damen knew that slave trafficking was going on despite their combined efforts to put an end to it.« You must not be afraid of me Adrien, my name is Laurent and I am your uncle. You are family I only want the best for you and I will let no one harm you ».« Well, well », said a male voice behind him, « can you prove that he is your nephew ? do you really think that I am going to let you carry him away just like that when he already owes us 7 years of keep? A good man has offered me 3 sovereigns for him in exchange for his going into apprenticeship » he looked at Laurent’s unkempt beard and plain clothing and smirked, « unless of course you can match the price ».Laurent thought of calling out for Jord, giving a good thrashing to Chantal’s husband and then leaving with Adrien but remembered just in time that he wanted to keep the whole business quiet. So to the man’s amazement, he took 3 sovereigns out of his purse and gave them to him without a word. He then went to Adrien who was white-faced and frozen still in the vegetable patch. Laurent kneeled down in front him.« Please don’t be afraid, » he said, »you must believe me, your father was my brother and I loved him dearly, we are family and I will take care of you from now on, I will not let anyone hurt you ».Adrien looked into Laurent’s kind eyes; he had heard his aunt’s husband say that he had found someone to sell him to. He understood that he would not to able to stay here any longer and that he was most likely better off going willingly with this stranger who claimed to be his uncle rather than being handed to one Gaston’s crony. Maybe, just maybe it was true after all and this man was his father’s brother.Without a look for either Chantal or her husband, Laurent took Adrien’s hand and led him out to the carriage. He didn’t spare a single look at Chantal who had been willing to let her niece’s son sold to prostitution and he promised himself that he was not going to let matters rest either. He was going to send someone to find out from the husband who the « buyer » was and furthermore every brothel was going to be raided. If children were found then harsh punishment would be metted out to anyone who allowed children to be exploited.Jord smiled when he saw the boy« well, no possible doubt there » he said » he looks just like you at the same age », « You remember me at 7 ? » said Laurent,« Of course I do, spent no end of time looking for you, as you were always hiding somewhere where you could read peacefully without being disturbed » laughed Jord. Laurent laughed as well as he remembered the kind soldier who used to bring him back to his mother. Jord’s words reassured Adrien further, he was squeezed on the seat between the 2 men and they departed.Before setting out on their return journey Laurent stopped at Fortaine Fort and asked to see Lady Loyse of Fortaine, pretending to be Jord. She was most surprised to meet Laurent in disguise instead. He made her aware of a child trafficking ring in Fortaine. He knew she would act on it as it was as abhorrent to her as it was to him. He told her about Chantal’s husband knowledge of a pervert looking for children in the area and told her he could be lean upon to get the man’s name and follow the lead. Laurent emphasized that he wanted no leniency and that they needed to get all culprits caught and the children saved. She promised to act immediately on his information and not to reveal that he had been in Fortaine. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Returning to Acquitart , they stopped at the same inn than they had on the way in order to eat and spend the night. Laurent was glad to see that Adrien was at least eating heartily, he had remained very quiet during the journey and after all the food he had ingested he fell asleep on the bench against Laurent’s shoulder. Laurent carried him to the bedroom he had rented. There were 2 large beds in it, one for him and Adrien and the other for Jord. Laurent laid down near Adrien, not wanting to leave the boy alone in case he woke up and became distressed and he signaled to Jord that he could go back down to have a drink and some fun if he so wished. Jord only stayed down for an hour or so, the inn was particularly quiet and it was still day time when he rejoined his king in their room. Laurent and Adrien were sleeping in their shirt and pants and Jord laid on his bed similarly dressed, he had noticed that Laurent had taken his sword out of the package he carried on his back and had put it on the floor by his side of the bed. Jord did the same putting the sword by the side where the child would not see it when he woke up. About one hour after he had turned in he heard noises of horses and riders arriving late and later still of people going up to other bedrooms, Laurent had heard it too, raising his head and ready in case of trouble but all went quiet quickly and the 2 men slept until early morning.Laurent, Adrien and Jord woke up at about the same time, awaken by the noises coming from the nearby bedrooms, it seemed that last night’s late arrivals at the inn were early risers. Jord made his way downstairs first to find a quiet table for them while Laurent attempted to comb the rebellious golden curls of Adrien. Adrien was looking around him with curiosity as he had no memories of what had happened after he was given this wonderful meal the night before. His eyes brightened when Laurent mentioned that they were going to have breakfast before they left and that Adrien could order whatever he wished to eat.When Jord got to the dining room he stopped still at the door at the unusual sight of a party of about half a dozen Akielon soldiers sitting at the large rectangular table in the centre of the room. Well, he thought that account for the noises we heard last night and this morning. The men were talking among themselves but the one facing the stairs and Jord lifted his head and exclaimed « Jord ! » so of course, the other 5 looked up as well. « Pallas.... ! » exclaimed Jord, then, « and Lazar and..... » he stopped as it dawned on him that they were not just Akielon soldiers but the pick of Damianos’s royal guards and that could only mean that Damianos himself could not be very far away.....Jord smiled broadly, mainly to himself, at the thought of the face Damen was going to pull when he met dark haired and bearded Laurent.....in the meantime he joined the men at the table to get a much-needed drink and the latest gossip from Akielos.On the first floor, Laurent holding Adrien’s hand was walking in the corridor and had just reached the top of the stairs when the door opposite opened abruptly and a man rushed out of the room nearly colliding with them. « Watch where you’re going you’re not alone here, » he said angrily and then froze still when he realized who the man was. Damen, who was in full uniform and bearing his gold pin on his chest, took a second or so to register that this man spoke exactly like Laurent. But of course he couldn’t be: the man wore plain clothing, had dark hair and a beard...then he looked more closely and discovered malicious blue eyes laughing at him; delighted, he scooped his lover in his arms near crushing him until Laurent pushed him firmly away: « That’s no way to conduct yourself Exalted, someone could see us, a child is watching » admonished Laurent, smiling because he couldn’t help it. That’s when Damen noticed the boy and started to wonder what mad scheme had Laurent planned this time.Around the table Jord had told the guards that they needed 2 more chairs for his party, not revealing who they were for. One chair had obviously be readied for their King. The innkeeper had been most surprised to see that the soldiers had invited another of his guests (one of the 2 plain travelers with a child who had also spent the night) at the table of the King of Akielos. But proud as he was to give lodgings to the foreign king and his guards he did not think any more about it especially because the King himself had just arrived. He was accompanied by the other guest and the child. The soldiers looked at the new arrivals with curiosity and suddenly recognizing Laurent they made to get up and bow but were stopped immediately by a gesture of Laurent’s hand. Laurent and Adrien sat down in silence, Adrien had strongly squeezed Laurent’s hand at the sight of the Akielon soldiers. He had never seen Akielon soldiers before but had heard all sort of horror stories from people around him. So near the border, everyone had a bad tale to tell about Akielon barbarians. Laurent gently squeezed back the small hand and murmured in the boy’s ear: « It’s all right you are safe, in fact, each one of these soldiers will protect you with his life if need be, your life is going to be very different from the one you had with your aunt but you must not be afraid, I promise you will be cherished and well looked after from now on. Now just look at the food this man is bringing us! »Adrien’s eyes and mouth opened wide as he stared at the platters of meats, cheeses, eggs, fruit, bread and other fabulous looking foods that he had never seen in his life. Laurent laughed, delighted at his amazement, not realizing that he was himself surprising everyone around the table because of the attentions he was giving to the thin scruffy looking urchin he had brought to their table. Damen looked closely at the boy while Laurent was helping him choose the food and dishing it out on a plate for him. He had thought at first that the boy was just one of those poor lads that Laurent had encountered by chance and saved from whatever evil was threatening him. He was of course unknowingly partly right in his deduction but a closer look made him wonder: the boy had a lovely face with a very good bone structure, high cheekbones and forehead, well-defined chin and full lips, he was every bit as beautiful as Nicaise had been. Feeling that the imposing soldier named Damen who had embraced Laurent in the corridor was watching him, Adrien looked back at him in turn and Damen found himself looking into eyes so like Laurents’ that it was bewildering. Laurent noticed his lover’s stare: « Adrien is family « he said, « I’ll explain later » by which Damen understood that he meant « When we are alone ». Damen nodded, that was enough explanation for now even so he was dying to find out more. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- With breakfast over with, they all left together. Adrien noticed how every man and woman at the inn kept bowing at Damen showing him the greatest respect and calling him « Exalted », a word he did not understand. While Laurent and Damen were having a word together Adrien asked Jord what Exalted meant: « It’s the proper title for addressing the King in Akielos, in Vere we say Majesty » answered Jord. « He is a King then ? » asked Adrien, « Yes, King Damianos of Akielos » said Jord who saw no point in not telling the truth as Damen was not exactly traveling incognito as they were. « But he embraced Laurent at the inn, and Laurent even told him off, a King !« exclaimed the boy.« Hi, sounds like Laurent all right » approved Jord.« Is Laurent someone important then? » « Well, yes, he is » replied Jord » but it’s not my place to tell you who he is, he’ll do it himself ».With these final words from Jord, Adrien was settled on the carriage seat once more next to Jord and the journey started as soon as Laurent joined them. Another carriage was following carrying the King and his retinue’s servants and baggages. 3 soldiers riding up front and 3 at the back. King Damianos was riding at the side of the carriage and making easy talks with Laurent.They only stopped once more for lunch where Adrien was again impressed by how much deference was shown to Damen at the inn. The food they served was wonderful again but Adrien could hardly eat any, he was still full from his breakfast, he had never eaten so much in his short life. They resumed their journey and Laurent explained to Adrien that he was, in fact, the King of Vere and that Adrien was part of his family and for now on he would be treated like a prince. He told the boy to call him Laurent. Adrien listened in silence unable to quite figure this out because he found it difficult to believe that Laurent was a King: in his imagination Kings wore sumptuous clothes and jewellery or they were large imposing men like the King of Akielos, they did not look like Laurent with his unkempt stubble, uncombed hair and plain clothes ! Was Laurent telling him the truth and was he really safe? Adrien started to worry again, he was very far from home by now and felt totally helpless and at the mercy of those strangers and foreign soldiers.In the afternoon the little troop reached a fort called Acquitart according to Laurent, the end of our journey he added. Before they crossed the village Laurent had washed his hair and stubble in a stream reverting again to the lovely blond color Damen was so fond of. They were met by a couple that Laurent called Arnoul and Marjorie, he left Adrien in their care and gave them instructions: the boy was to be bathed, fed, clean clothes found for him as well as a bedroom not far from his own. Jord was to stay with him. The King of Akielos would, of course, share his own bedroom and they should lead his squire - Pallas - there to drop in the Kings' belongings. Adrien thought that maybe Laurent was a King after all if he could give orders to grown ups so much older than himself and even decide where the King of Akielos was going to sleep. Like Jord, Marjorie had immediately noticed the likeness between Adrien and Laurent. She realized that Laurent’s return with the child was related to the conversation they’d had about Henriette. Laurent’s changed appearance when he had left Acquitart with Jord told her that their trip was to be kept secret. Marjorie and Arnoul were devoted to Laurent exactly as they had been devoted to Auguste. And Laurent knew it of course, which is why he did not feel the need to ask them to keep his inquiries and trip quiet. He was confident in their loyalty to him and to Auguste; he suspected that they had guessed that maybe Auguste was in the heart of the mystery; in the past maybe they had even noticed his interest in the pretty lace-maker. Auguste had never taken a male lover or a pet as was the custom in Vere so it was more than likely that his interest was solely in women. Marjorie was a middle-aged woman who knew about human nature and needs and it was not a surprise to her that the handsome Crown prince and the pretty maid so attracted to each other could have got carried away at some point of their relationship despite Vere’s fierce taboo about sexuality. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Adrien followed Marjorie inside the fort. In a warm room, a large tub was filled with hot water and Adrien felt for the first time in his life the luxury of a hot bath. A servant washed him with soft sponges and nice smelling soaps then he was lifted out and wrapped in warm, soft towels. He was taken to a small room already occupied by Jord where drinks and cakes were laid out for him but he was kept wrapped up in the towels for the time being because finding clothes to fit him was not so easy. Acquitart’s fort did not cater for young children and Marjorie had to send to the village to see if one of the richer families could help out. In the meantime, Adrien was quite content to eat cakes and to watch the activity in the yard below. Well he thought, I think that I can very easily get used to this princely life.Damen and Laurent made their way directly to Laurent’s private rooms. As soon as the door was closed behind them Laurent asked: « So what are you doing in Vere and why take the risk of traveling with such a small troop when so many here are still unhappy with the alliance? »« Oh no, you don’t » exclaimed Damen, « you first, your behavior is much more unusual than mine, even you can’t deny that. Stubble suits you by the way but I was not so fond so the hair color... »« Well, it’s washed off now.... All right, Adrien is Auguste’s illegitimate son. I found out by chance and once I knew of his existence I couldn’t let him be».« Of course you couldn’t » replied Damen. He was silent for a while thinking of the implications of this discovery. He knew that Laurent must have thought carefully about bringing a son of Auguste to Acquitart. The risks were that Laurent’s brother’s reputation would be blackened if the existence of his bastard child be known and of course Laurent would hate that to happen but also there was the danger that if this was known some nobles who had sided with the Regent might prefer to see a son of Auguste, even a bastard son, on the throne of Vere rather than Laurent who had allied himself with Akielos, the hereditary enemy and who had even laid with the Prince-killer himself.« I suppose you have considered the potential dangerousness of your action, » said Damen « I hope you have a fool proof plan for the future ».« Sort of » replied Laurent, an answer which did not reassure Damen at all.« Have you told him who you are? »« Sort of....I told him that I was his uncle but he doesn’t know anything else, he doesn’t know that HE could be the Crown Prince of Vere and me merely the Regent. »« Of course he couldn’t » exclaimed Damen « you told me yourself that a bastard child could never rule in Vere and even that producing a bastard child automatically removes a prince from the succession. If this transgression had come to light Auguste would have been barred from ascending the throne.»« Well yes in theory but times are changing are they not, so I still plan to keep this very quiet, I want to preserve Auguste’s reputation at all cost, hence the disguise to get to the child and bring him here discreetly »« You won’t be able to keep this quiet for long, you told Adrien who he was, do you expect him not to talk about it ? » replied Damen.« He doesn’t know much at all, he has never heard of Auguste and I said I was an uncle nothing more. In fact, I was thinking of saying that he was a cousin who’d just become an orphan. I asked him to call me Laurent so even if he mentions that I am his uncle to someone else they’ll think he has got it wrong, no one could possibly suspect Auguste of breaking such a taboo ».Damen thought about it and came to the conclusion that it could very well work for now. Laurent’s mad plans tended to work did they not? So he stopped bringing any more arguments to the discussion and instead took Laurent in his arms to give him the kiss he wanted to give him since this morning’s impromptu meeting in the corridor of the inn. Noises coming from the next room brought them back to earth and they parted. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- « There’s no bath house in Acquitart, the servants are bringing us hot water to bathe, » said Laurent « while we do tell me what you are doing here when I thought you were in Ios ? »They made their way next door to bathe and after giving strict instructions that they were not to be disturbed, Damen explained that Makedon had requested his presence in Marlas in a hurry. The 2 Kings had decided that Delpha/Delpheur would become a buffer province between Akielos and Vere. It was ruled locally together by a Council in the style of Vere and a Kyros in the style of Akielos, each with equal power. Makedon needed an answer regarding a border problem and he was getting very frustrated with the lack of decision because the Council and the Kyros could not agree. Therefore he had called on Damen for help. Damen and Laurent had agreed that either of them could overrule decisions made at a local level that they judged unwise. Damen had come as fast as possible with only a small escort and he had not been pleased to see that it was his kyros who was unreasonable and that the Veretian Council had the best solution to Makedon’s border problem. Having quickly resolved the argument he was about to return to Ios when he heard from a courrier that Laurent was in Acquitart. Damen was missing him very much and as he knew that he could make it to Acquitart in 1 day of hard riding he did not hesitate and left Marlas immediately, it was the middle of the day and he’d have to stop one night of course but he hoped that Laurent would still be in Acquitart and he was impatient at the idea of holding his lover in his arms again tomorrow rather than in a month as previously planned between them. Laurent could not argue with that decision at all, he too had been missing Damen very much. After their bath they enjoyed spending the time left before dinner in bed, thinking only of pleasing each other and leaving nephew and politics aside for the time being. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Marjorie provided Adrien with good clean clothing and she took the lad to the bedroom that had been hastily prepared for him. It was much bigger than the downstairs room at his aunt’s cottage. It had a large double bed with rich silks covers and curtains around it, the floor was covered with thick rugs and tapestries hung from the walls, there was also a large fireplace and furniture. Adrien was overawed by a luxury he had never even thought existed. Jord had accompanied him and he proposed to guide him on a tour of the fort before they went for dinner. Adrien accepted with joy, he was not feeling comfortable staying in this huge room on his own.The lad loved everything in the fort, Jord showed him around the stables and kennels as well as the training arena where some soldiers were sparring. They spent sometimes watching them then: « Do you think I’ll be allowed to try this one day? », « I think you’ll be encouraged to do so » laughed Jord, « but maybe not today » then they returned to the main house to visit the reception rooms and even the kitchen. That was a very busy place as dinner was being prepared and with both Kings unexpectedly present tonight the cook was pretty flustered. Jord suggested to Adrien that he went and have a little rest before dinner. Adrien smiled and nodded although he was not tired at all and too excited to sleep anyway. Still, it was nice to lay on this very comfortable bed and think about this new life that was starting. Everybody so far had made him feel welcome and the room didn’t bother him any longer. He was not missing his aunt too much; since the birth of the twins 2 years ago, he had known nothing but hard work both in the cottage and in the garden, his aunt was always tired and fearful of her husband these days, Adrien knew money was short, especially as most of it was spent on drink by her husband Gaston who could also beat her up when drunk. He had overheard that Gaston wanted to sell him to a rich man, he did not know what would happen to him after but he had not liked the way some of the men had looked at him and even touched his golden curls. Lucky for him that Gaston had put a high price on him so that he had not been taken away before Laurent appeared and claimed him.A knock at the door and Jord entered to tell him dinner was served. The dining room was very grand, Adrien found Laurent and King Damianos as well as the 6 soldiers he had met at the inn. He was led to a seat next to Laurent and Jord sat on his other side. The food was brought in and Adrien suddenly felt intimidated by the company and self-conscious that he did not know how to eat in the same way than the others did, using the fork and knife provided near his plate. So he chose not to eat, pretending that he was not hungry. Laurent watched him carefully and understood the problem. He did not say anything not to embarrass the boy. He also needed to keep the pretend that the boy was his cousin and therefore had proper table manners in front of Damen’s royal guards, each of them being of noble birth. It was bad enough that they had seen him looking like a street urchin at the inn.As soon as the meal was over, Laurent suggested to Adrien that he should retire to his room as it had been a long day for him. The boy readily agreed, it had been torture for him to see all this food and drink and not be able to eat it. Laurent had a quiet word with Marjorie and Jord took him up to his bedroom and left him alone. A little while later Marjorie and another servant entered carrying dishes full of food, a little of everything that Adrien had seen at the table. His eyes filled with tears at the understanding and kindness shown to him. He did not know what he had done to deserve this but he promised himself to be always good in return. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- After a night in bed spent enjoying each other’s delights (and therefore with very little sleep), Damen and Laurent sat down to talk seriously about the future course of action. They wanted to make the most of their time together to discuss politics but Laurent insisted that he also wanted to spend time with Adrien. He had not yet decided if the boy was to be taken to Arles with him when he returned or if it would be better for Adrien to remain in Acquitart at least until he had learned manners befitting a cousin of the King before being presented at court.Laurent told Damen of his visit to Loyse and of the actions that were going to be taken to stop the child trafficking ring. Damen knew that because of his past the welfare of children would always be a priority for Laurent. He suggested that Damen and himself create establishments in Vere and Akielos in which unwanted or bastard children could find a safe haven where they would be taught to read and write as well as a trade to help them build a good life in adulthood. That was an enterprise that would mean a lot of financing and planning but would pay out in the long run. Laurent hoped that in time it would also start changing the people of Vere’s view regarding bastard children. He himself had had a very poor opinion of them, years of taught prejudice and Kastor’s actions having comforted him in his bad opinion, but of course now he was confronted with the fact that his adored brother had fathered a bastard and he could not imagine that any child of Auguste could be anything other than good. He started to think that by ostracizing bastard children from Vere’s society, Vere was not doing itself a favor and could be depriving itself of many talents. Damen agreed with Laurent’s suggestion because even if Akielos did not have the same taboo about bastards and that they were generally accepted in their family, some unwanted children (bastard or not) were unlucky and had been sold into slavery in the past. He had abolished slavery and had wondered about how to deal with those children who were now maybe just abandoned to starvation or prostitution. The solution Laurent provided looked ideal although expensive but Damen knew that their kingdoms were both rich and besides were going to save a lot of money now that peace was finally acquired. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Adrien had spent the morning first with a seamstress who had been asked to create a full set of clothing for him and then with Jord who had taken him to see the horses and dogs at the kennel. On the day before Adrien had been attracted to a puppy who had looked at him with sad eyes, he somehow had felt sympathy with the little dog left out by his mother. He was playing with the puppy when Laurent joined him accompanied by King Damianos. The King had asked him to call him Damen at dinner last night but the boy found that he was tongue tied in front of this towering man even if his eyes were looking at him as kindly as Laurent’s did. « Would you like to have this puppy? » asked Laurent « I am sure you two could become friends »« Oh yes please, I would love to have him, I’ll take good care of him »« And no doubt he will take care of you in the future, as he will grow into quite a big dog in no time at all, you can come here again after lunch to play with him if you like ».On their way to the dining room, Laurent told him that he was to have lessons in all things useful in his future life like reading, writing, and horse riding. Adrien followed them to the dining room and he was glad to notice that there were only 4 plates set up. Laurent said smiling « You will have your first lesson now: how to manage to eat with a fork and a knife « Adrien was clumsy at first but he persevered and did quite well. Laurent and Damen both noticed how the boy carefully watched how they ate and reproduced their gestures. Adrien was attentive and had nimble fingers, « He is bright he will learn fast » they both looked at each other and smiled because they knew they had both come to the same conclusion. Adrien and Jord returned to the kennels after the meal and Laurent promised to join them later and take Adrien riding. After they left Damen took Laurent in his arms and said:« I really can’t stand being away from you for weeks at a time. I want us to make arrangements to live together sooner than we planned. My meeting with the assembled Kyroi in Ios went rather well. They have understood that I will not change my mind about recreating the Artesian Empire and rule it with you and they are not as unhappy about it as I thought they might be. They have realized that there is much to gain by peace and free trade. So how about the Council in Vere, how do they feel about the Artesian Empire, after all, you appointed them, their duty is to Council you and I am sure you chose people who would be open to your ideas ».« Yes, and they are, also at court the nobles have understood that I am here to stay and that there was no alternative King from my family now that my uncle is dead. They don’t want internal feuds which could last for years and with uncertain results. I feel the same as you do about being apart. I hate it, I don’t want to spend any more nights alone. How would you feel about perhaps having a permanent residence at Marlas. It is ideally positioned. A few months ago I asked for engineers to study the possibility of extending the fishing port into one also capable of harboring large vessels. This way we could have quick and easy communication routes by sea as well as by land to both Ios and Arles. As the project was feasible plans have been drawn and I was waiting to have a chance to discuss it with you before starting construction works».« Marlas? you are sure you could live there ? » replied Damen cautiously, he knew that Laurent had hated going back to Marlas in the early days of their alliance. They never mentioned Marlas....« The situation is perfect, I will want the fort transformed and the battle site made into a park. Damen, if we want our countrymen and women to put the past behind them and move forward then you and I we must show the example.I know you’re still worried about me blaming you for Auguste’s death. We cannot change history, only learn from it. The way I figure it out, your father started the war but mine did nothing to try avoiding it by diplomacy. You and Auguste fought because as crown princes it was your duty to do so. Auguste would not have found himself on the field facing you but for my uncle’s scheming. As we now both know my uncle was responsible for having our army leave the fort and fight on the open field. I am also pretty sure that somewhere there was another arrow meant for Auguste in case he survived the battle because my uncle needed both my father and my brother to fall that day. So let’s not mention this again Damen, please. If you feel you deserve a punishment then fine, I give you one: you are now stuck with me forever» smiled Laurent.« I only have to submit to my punishment then my love » replied Damen won over as usual by Laurent’s analytical mind. They kissed because they couldn’t help it but they both managed to be strong enough to break this kiss because they had to use their short time together to get work done and also enjoy spending time with Adrien. They drafted a common proclamation that they would each read publically on the same day in one month time, Damen in Ios and Laurent in Arles. It would announce the official revival of the Artesian Empire. Afterward they would join in Marlas and hold celebrations. There would be celebrations in every village and town with street parties. Public officials were going to be very busy because Damen and Laurent wanted it done within 2 months, before winter set in. This decision made it easier for Damen to tear himself from Laurent the next morning to return to Ios because he now knew that this was one of the last time they were going to be away from each other. Another 2 months and Laurent would be at his side forever.Adrien had loved going riding in the afternoon with the 2 Kings. He had ridden sitting in front of Laurent on the way to a cool cascade where they had a picnic by the water and with Damen on the way back to Acquitart. They even had a race that Damen and Adrien won. Back at the fort Adrien was allowed to take his puppy to his room, Jord had given him a basket for the puppy to sleep in although he suspected that the little beast would sleep on the bed instead. Next morning, after Damen’s departure, Laurent sent words to their Council in Arles that he was extending his stay in Acquitart for another 2 weeks. He had decided that Adrien would accompany him when he returned to his capital and he wanted to spend time with him and start his education himself. He also hoped to receive news from Loyse regarding the actions she had taken against the child trafficking ring. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Gaston was not a brave man. He was a bully, a coward, and a drunk. When soldiers came to his door and took him to be interrogated by a magistrate he whimpered and promised to tell the public officer everything he knew about the man who had approached him because of Adrien. He gave the man’s name and said where he could be found.Gaston wrung his hands together crying and swearing that he really thought the boy would be learning a trade with this man. He denied that he could have knowingly done such a terrible thing as to sell his dear wife’s nephew to prostitution. The magistrate’s information on Gaston was that he could inform him on the true villain not that he was part of the child trafficking ring so he let him go free although he was under no illusion that Gaston had known very well what Adrien was destined to be. The guilty man was found and arrested. Brothels in the province were all raided and disgustingly children were found in some premises. Loyse actions under Laurent’s instructions had resulted in a string of arrests and she now had 10 children in her care. She lodged them in Fortaine fort for the time being and informed Laurent of the successful development of his orders. Laurent told her of his idea concerning the welfare of abandoned children and she wholeheartedly decided to help him with the project. Her husband Guion had been killed in Ios after Laurent’s mock trial and following unrest but Laurent had spared her 3 remaining sons on account that they were not either involved with the Regent nor accomplices of their father. They had always remained on their lands with their family in Vere and had kept away from politics. Loyse who was now mistress of Fortaine was devoted to Laurent. After he was released Gaston spent some time drinking in a tavern and he was in a foul mood when he got to his cottage. He immediately blamed Chantal for his misfortune and beat her up despite the children crying for him to stop. He was absolutely sure that the stranger who had taken Adrien away had spoken to the magistrate and of course it was all Chantal’s fault for letting him in in the first place and acknowledging Adrien’s presence. It was Adrien’s fault as well of course but lucky for the boy he was not here to bear the consequences of Gaston’s anger.On the following day, Gaston found that the word had spread out of his possible involvement in the child trafficking ring. He no longer had a job and his neighbors would not speak to him either. In the tavern, he was even refused drinks! He had been judged, furthermore, everyone thought that Adrien had been sold to prostitution because some had seen him leave the cottage with the 2 strangers and he had never returned. Gaston was furious, he decided that the stranger had to pay for the ill he caused him and that death would be his punishment.A terrified Chantal told him that the stranger had found him thanks to her brother in Acquitart so Gaston started on his way there, leaving Chantal behind with the children and without any money. He managed to travel with merchants and 2 days later he found Chantal’s brother and knocked on his door. The 2 men had never met. Gaston was tired (and thirsty) and he chose an aggressive approach:« You sent a man who has ruined my family to my door, I want you to tell me where I can find him »« I don’t know you, you have made a mistake » replied Emile and he made to close his door but Gaston blocked it with his foot.« I know for sure that you did. I am Chantal’s husband and this man has taken away Henriette’s bastard because you told him where to find him ».Emile blanched on hearing the names of both his sister and his late daughter. The word Henriette’s bastard shocked him most of all. Emile was in his sixties a righteous, traditional man who had raised his daughter with kindness but also with clear teaching of right and wrong. And of course sex before marriage was absolutely wrong and he couldn’t imagine that Henriette had done such a terrible thing and fallen pregnant. He remained speechless his mind too troubled to think of anything to say to the irascible man in front of him. Gaston saw his stunned expression and laughed:« You didn’t know did you, serve you right old man, your daughter was a whore and you are the grandfather of a bastard, so much for your reputation eh? Tell me where I can find the man who took the boy or I am going to tell everyone in this village what your precious daughter really was ».Emile never felt such anger in his life before. This man was evil he could feel it in his bones. The insult was too much for him to tolerate so, he punched Gaston in the face and made him stagger. It had been the last thing that Gaston had expected from an old man he did not react immediately so Emile punched him again and again until Gaston was on the floor bleeding and gasping for breath. 2 of Emile’s neighbors interfered and stopped him before he killed the man lying on the ground. Gaston got up shouted some mingled words while raising his fist and running away from Emile. The name Henriette was understood by passer-bys but no more was understood, he had beaten his tongue and was missing his front teeth. Emile’s neighbors held him from running after the beaten up stranger and took him inside his cottage where they got him a drink to calm him down. The old man was still seething with anger but he gradually calmed down offering no explanation to his neighbors on the events. How could he? If Gaston had told the truth how could he possibly live with it and face them in the future?After making sure that Emile was back to normal and that the stranger was not lurking in the area his neighbors left him alone with his thoughts. Emile did not know who had gone to Gaston’s door but he knew who he gave the directions to and that was to his King! He remembered that the King had said that Marjorie wanted to send linen to Chantal.....Emile had thought this strange at the time but who was he to question his King’s request?Emile decided to go and see Marjorie at the fort. He knew her well enough from the time Henriette had worked there as lace-maker also his wife and Marjorie had been close and she had visited their cottage in the past. He set up immediately not noticing that Gaston had been watching his front door from afar. Gaston knew that Emile was the only one who could take him to the man he sought and so he followed him. Emile entered the open courtyard of the fort and went towards the left wing where he knew he’d find Marjorie. Gaston was not very sure how to proceed. He had not expected Emile to enter the royal fort especially as the pendants flying on the top walls indicated that the King was in residence. The courtyard was busy, on the right, an old tower was teaming with masons doing some rebuilding work, soldiers were sparring, some were exercising horses; he was not at ease and furthermore he had lost sight of Emile. And then suddenly he couldn’t believe his eyes: Adrien was in the courtyard! There was no possible mistake it was Adrien dressed in fine clothes laughing and playing with a puppy. Gaston’s anger at seeing the boy responsible for his demise looking so happy made him forget all caution. He went straight for Adrien and got hold of him by one arm wanting to drag him out of the courtyard with him. Immediately the point of a sword was at his throat and he let go of the boy. Soldiers had stopped what they were doing and stared. For a few seconds, no one moved. Adrien retreated behind Jord who was not lowering his sword. « You have no business here, get out and never show your face again » growled Jord.Gaston ran out of the courtyard. Activity restarted but there was muttering among the soldiers. The sudden appearance of 7-year-old Adrien in the life of the King had not gone unnoticed in Acquitart. He was a cousin of the King they were told who had recently become an orphan. They had accepted the story, why not, but the aggression of the boy by this scruffy man with a beaten up face was very unusual and there were speculations.« You know that man don’t you Adrien ? » asked Jord to the stricken boy «is he the man who went in your aunt’s cottage while Laurent was there? tell me who he is, I promise he won’t trouble you ever again »« He’s my aunt’s husband, he is not a nice man, he beat us up, my aunt, me and even the twins and they’re only 2 years old »Jord didn’t know how Laurent got to leave with Adrien but it had gone peacefully so he had assumed that they had come to an agreement. Laurent had to be informed because the man could mean trouble. He led Adrien back to his room where he knew he would be safe and went looking for the King.Emile found Marjorie in the lingerie, the presence of Laurent and Damen and the arrival of Adrien had meant a lot of work and Acquitart did not have many servants. She looked at Emile’s somber face and guessed that this conversation was not going to be easy. She dismissed the 2 girls working with her and closed the door before she let him start speaking.« You know why I am here » he blurted out « is it true, did Henriette gave birth to a bastard? How long have you known? Does the King know? »As he was talking he found more and more questions he wanted to ask, he didn’t ask the worst one: had his wife known because he knew she must have done and had arranged for Henriette to go to live with Chantal. He thought that the last 8 years had been nothing but lies and it hurt so much he did not know how he could take it.Marjorie calmly told him that she had only found out very recently, only 2 weeks ago in fact and that yes the King knew and he was protecting the child. She would not say anymore. Emile suspected that she knew a lot more and maybe even knew who the child’s father was. It was disquieting that the King was involved but if no gossip had leaked out then it must mean that the King himself did not want the affair to become common knowledge. Emile couldn’t help wondering why the King involved himself at all....The door opened and Laurent walked in followed by Jord. It was an awkward moment for Marjorie and Emile who looked like guilty children to Laurent. Laurent could not fathom why Gaston had decided to appear in Acquitart. He had given him the money he had asked for and had thought that he would never hear from the man again. Unless of course Gaston’s interrogation and the subsequent arrests in Fortaine and the border areas had something to do with it. Laurent had not accused Gaston of anything but maybe the man had felt threatened and wanted revenge. That did not help with the problem posed by Emile. Laurent felt he had the right to know, after all, he had lost his daughter and his wife, Adrien was all he had left. The question was could Emile conquer his prejudice regarding bastards and accept Adrien. He asked Emile to sit down and talked to him about Adrien. He did not mention the paternity of the boy, he wanted to judge Emile’s reaction first. Emile was deeply troubled, on one hand, it was hard to accept the dishonor on his family’s name but on the other hand, his King did not look down on him because of it. And he had always been sad that he was the last of his line and now it seems that he wasn’t.«Chantal’s husband was looking for the man who took the child, » said Emile « do you know if the child is safe? » « He is safe » replied Laurent « do you want to meet him? »« I am not sure. I have to think about it, it’s been a difficult day, can I decide later? »« Anytime, » said Laurent gently « just come if and when you’re ready but keep in mind that we are leaving for Arles in one weeks’ time and Adrien will come with me».Emile nodded and left quietly. « That leaves the problem of Gaston, I’d like Emile’s house watched discreetly, organize it Jord, if the man causes problem of any sort make sure it will be the last time - ever – that he does »« And if he leaves Acquitart ? »« Then let him be, he doesn’t know much but I will see that an eye is kept on him occasionally » replied Laurent.« He beats his wife and children, » said Jord who was hoping that Gaston made a move on Emile and force him to act.« He will be leaned on to stop, I’ll sort it, thanks for caring Jord ».The soldier nodded and left to carry on his duty. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- As it turned out, Gaston caused his own downfall. He’d had a very bad day. He had been beaten up by an old man (20 years older than himself), had been threatened by a sword and a mean looking soldier and apparently the child (and probably the man who had bought him) were out of his reach in the royal fort. He needed to drink preferably to oblivion. He made his way to a tavern and started to drink way too much. He lost what little sense he had and because he felt he needed for some sympathy from the drinking men at the bar, he told a tale that his dear nephew (who was the most beautiful child you’d ever seen) had been stolen from him and was kept in the royal fort to be more than likely used sexually by nobles and also probably by the king himself and his barbarian lover. The King he said had forbidden underage pets but he was sure that he did not apply this rule to himself. Stupid Gaston did not know that Laurent was worshiped in Acquitart since his birth. No one in the tavern could tolerate such slander, so Gaston received another thrashing and wasthrown out into a ditch. Unfortunately for him, he broke his neck on landing. The men did not realize that he was dead, they had re-entered the tavern after ditching him. Jord had witnessed Gaston unceremonious exit and went to check on him. He was glad the problem had taken care of itself after all. He called for soldiers to come and dispose of the body in the pauper’s grave corner then went to report to Laurent.By next morning Emile had made his decision. He needed to meet Henriette’s son. He had loved his daughter dearly and had come to term with the fact that she had somehow fallen pregnant. She was such a sweet and innocent girl. A nobleman from the court must have taken advantage of her innocence. He thought that the King probably knew who it was and that was why he was taking such an interest in her son. Maybe that’s also why he was taking the boy to Arles. To put the father in front of his responsibilities. Whatever happened next Emile had faith in his King, if he was in charge then all would be well.But when Emile looked at Adrien’s face it did not take him long to guess the truth. Emile had always lived in Acquitart where the 2 princes of Vere had spent a lot of time when growing up and Adrien’s looks were very like the princes when they were young. He quickly worked out that Laurent had been 12 or 13 when Henriette had fallen pregnant so that only left......crown prince Auguste has a potential father. Emile knew Henriette met the prince, she worked in the fort and he remembered that she had said to him how prince Auguste often praised her embroidery.Laurent saw all this on Emile’s troubled face. He didn’t say anything.Adrien had been told that the elderly man was is his mother’s father and also his aunt Chantal’s older brother. Chantal had never mentioned him in the past, he didn’t know he had a grandfather. They were both awkward with each other, Emile was not used to talking to children and Adrien was only 7 after all and his life was totally upside down since 2 weeks. It was hard for him to take it all in. At least Laurent was by his side. Laurent asked Adrien to tell his grandpa about Chantal’s children. He hoped in the future Emile and his now-widowed sister might renew their acquaintance and become a family again, Adrien needed to know that he still belonged to his mother’s family and Laurent was determined that they would not be excluded. He felt slightly guilty because he had misjudged Chantal, he had not realized how hard her life had been, bringing up 5 children with a useless and violent husband. Adrien had opened up to him about her, she had taken care of him, she had tried her best for him but had been thwarted by her husband. She was terrified of him. Laurent thought that maybe he had snatched Adrien a little too quickly, not giving them a chance to say goodbye.The meeting between Emile and Adrien had been private with only Jord and Marjorie present with Laurent. There was no reason why anyone would suspect the truth, Adrien officially was Laurent’s young cousin, that would explain his looks and his presence near the King.Emile was reassured for the time being. Laurent had told him that Henriette’s past did not need to be revealed but nevertheless, he warned Emile that he did not exclude telling the truth in the future if Vere’s society view on bastards changed. He promised not to do so without telling Emile first. Privately Emile thought that the King would have to wait a long time for society to change and that he himself would probably be dead before it happened....Chantal did not cry when 2 days later she received a letter informing her that her husband had passed away while traveling. More so because the letter was accompanied by a full purse and a letter of introduction for Lady Loyse. It suggested that Chantal could take up a position looking after the abandoned children kept at the fort for the time being. Her own children could be raised at the same time. For the first time in years, she could see her future brightening up and she was glad to accept the offer. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The journey to Arles was yet another wonderful adventure for Adrien. He traveled with Laurent (and the puppy) in a comfortable carriage, Laurent read to him, pointed remarkable landscapes, devised games and they also played with the puppy. They traveled through villages where people were lining the side of the roads to cheer their King. The boy was very impressed by Arles, he had never seen so big a town before or so many people, all cheering when the carriage passed and the palace impressed him even more. Laurent had sent words in advance of their arriving and Adrien’s rooms were ready for him, in the same wing of the palace than his own. Adrien was introduced to a young man and a middle-aged woman who were to be his servants, they would help him to get used to his new life and although they were at his service, they were also going to guide him in the customs of the court in Arles. He was also introduced to Radel who was Laurent’s chamberlain.Adrien would have his breakfast in his rooms in the morning, then go to the baths - he couldn’t get enough of all that hot water and bubbles - and his meals at lunch time would be taken most days at Laurent’s table, except when courtiers or councilors were also present. Evening dining was reserved for adults though. Laurent kept the tradition of evening entertainments at court because even if he was not fond of them himself it remained part of his Kingly duties to provide them and to attend. He made it clear that he did not want a single child present in the evenings; his court’s entertainments were much more subdued than his uncle’s had been but he could not prevent some heavy drinking and revelry unsuitable for children. Laurent told Adrien that tutors would see him next morning. He would receive lessons in reading, writing, and numbers as well as good manners, fencing, and horse riding. Laurent told Adrien that he himself would tutor him in fencing and horse riding as much as his workload permitted, he insisted that the boy could ask to talk to him anytime he felt the need to, Radel would always pass the message on immediately.Adrien was reassured that enough time would be spared to play with the puppy who had yet to be named. A dog handler would also help him with training because as Laurent had already warned Adrien it was going to become a large hound in no time. Good training would ensure that the boy was safe from the dog in the future. At the date that they had both agreed on, Damen and Laurent read their common proclamation: Akielos and Vere were now equal partners of the Empire of Artes. Each kingdom retained its own king and councils, local affairs will still be dealt with locally as before.The matters of trade, justice, security, foreign affairs and diplomacy would now be decided by the 2 kings and be applied in all the Artesian Empire. Damen read his proclamation in full royal regalia in the Great Hall of Ios palace in front of his Kyroi and his court. His Kyroi were pleased to note that they would retain their local powers but they could not help feeling some concern about the future influence that the King of Vere would have on Damianos because if their King’s character was well known to them Laurent was far from being fully trusted.Laurent read his proclamation in the throne room in Arles with the council at his side and his court in front of him. He too was magnificently dressed in a cloak of ermine and the heavy crown of Vere on his head. He’d had a difficult session with his council a few days earlier when he had told them that Damen and himself wished to have a common law regarding the relationship between men and women. Both Akielos and Vere populations were going to have to term with some social changes in their private lives.Laurent wanted to stop unmarried men and women being prosecuted if they had sexual intercourse before marriage. After marriage, it would still be considered wrong to look elsewhere but if couples were unhappy then divorce could be granted if one of the partners required it. Laurent told the council that Damen had agreed that in Akielos it would also now be considered wrong for married couples to have intercourse with someone else and that it could lead to divorce if the injured party wanted it. That meant the end of the total enjoyed sexual freedom previously accepted in Akielos as it now meant that there would be consequences to dallying with other partners.The council had argued that this would result in multiplication of unwanted bastard children in Vere. What were the Kings going to do about the problem. Laurent explained that he had agreed with Damen that unwanted children would be looked after by the Empire. They would be educated and they would become full members of the society. No stigma should befall them because of their birth. Nevertheless, Laurent and Damen had agreed that they could not yet risk themselves to suggest that the children could be legitimized in the future even if the fathers wished it. The only way they could be legitimate would be if the mother married the father before the child’s birth. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- One month later, Damen and Laurent arrived separately in Marlas to start the life they had each been dreaming about since winning the war against Kastor and the Regent. The fort of Marlas was still being refurbished and the park Laurent wanted was still little more than sketches on a plan but the place had been sufficiently altered to look more like a residential royal palace than a military fort. Adrien accompanied Laurent to Marlas. On the way, Adrien had visited his aunt in Fortaine and was pleased to see her and her children happy, but the months spent at court had changed him and he no longer felt part of their life. He would always think fondly about them b, although he was very young, he somehow knew that he did not belong with them any longer. Laurent had asked him not tell his aunt that the man who had come for him at the cottage was, in fact, the King of Vere. Adrien visited her accompanied by Jord who was still acting as his guardian angel. Laurent hoped that if Chantal caught a glimpse of him at some time she would not recognize him. Adrien was very pleased to see Damen again, he liked the kind foreign King and, of course, Laurent was always so much happier when Damen was around; Adrien was learning to speak Akielon as well as good Veretian. Adrien welcomed these lessons, he loved learning, he was curious about the world and he hoped that Laurent and Damen would soon take him to Ios as he had heard wonderful tales of the white city on the cliff from Jord. Adrien did not worry about his future. But he was a very bright child and despite his young age, he knew that something was amiss. Laurent had introduced him as an orphaned cousin to everyone but he had told him privately that he was really his nephew but that this had to be kept secret. Adrien did not understand why, but Laurent promised him that he would explain when he was a little bit older and Adrien accepted to keep the secret. Adrien did not realize it at the time but Laurent had been very careful that Adrien was only approached by people Laurent had vetoed. The boy’s immediate contacts were therefore relatively few, he had his 2 servants, Radel the chamberlain, Paschal the physician, Jord and his tutors. He knew some of the soldiers from the royal guard, but not to speak to. He was kept away from courtiers and there were no other children in his entourage, something he missed at times. Luckily Fido the dog was always trotting beside him; Adrien did not have to squat any longer to caress it because it had grown considerably by now. The two of them were inseparable.The feasts lasted one week. For the first time in memory, the people allowed themselves to believe that peace was going to last during their lifetime and hopefully their children’s lifetime too. The 2 Kings were young and obviously cared for each other and therefore the future in the Artesian Empire looked bright to everyone. Laurent and Damen spent the next 3 months at Marlas establishing residence there. But, not many courtiers from Arles chose to come and live near their new court. For one thing, Marlas fort was nowhere large enough or comfortable enough for Veretian noblemen tastes. No courtier from Akielos made the journey either. The only frequent visitor was Makedon who lived nearby in Delpha province. It never stopped to amaze Damen how well Laurent and Makedon got on after the initial hostility between them. But then again, himself and Laurent had not exactly got on too well at first either, to say the least. They had decided that winters would be spent in Ios. They went by ship, leaving from Marlas harbor for the first time. They just made it before the weather made the crossing unpleasant. Adrien thought that Ios was beautiful beyond words. He had been leaning on the ship’s rail from the moment he had heard that Ios was on sight, and he could not take his eyes off the sight of the palace on top of the cliff as it grew on the horizon. They disembarked, the crowd was enthusiastic at the Kings return to Akielos. They rode up to the palace, Adrien was in a carriage with his retinue, he could not ride his pony quite well enough yet. He did not mind missing the ride at all, there were too many things to look at. At the palace, they were met by Nikandros. Adrien had met him briefly during the celebrations at Marlas 3 months earlier. He knew he was Damen’s closest friend. In answer to Nikandros’s polite inquiry regarding their journey, Laurent could not help indulging in his favorite sport which was teasing Nikandros : « So much quicker now with a proper harbor at Marlas, can’t understand why you didn’t think of it when you were Kyros, Nikandros » But Nikandros was used to Laurent’s banter by now. « Seems to me, Laurent, that your own father didn’t think of it either » « Touché » laughed Laurent. Adrien had got used to eating very nice food since living with Laurent, but when he saw the display of patisseries spread out for them he couldn’t believe his eyes and worried that he wouldn’t possibly be able to taste them all. He did, of course, over the weeks they spent at Ios and he also tasted plenty of other kinds of unknown food too. He found he was freer at Ios than at Marlas. He was able to roam the palace on his own whereas at Marlas he was always accompanied. He loved every minute of it, running up and down corridors and stairs, free to go where he wanted, exploring rooms with only Fido for company. He met many people, but his Akielon was not good enough for him to converse and no one spoke Veretian with him. He sometimes went to the training arena on his own. Usually, he went there with either Jord, Laurent or Damen for his fencing or javelin throwing lessons but, at those times, they were the only ones in the arena. He liked going alone, just to watch the men training or fighting against each other. That day Damen and Nikandros were wrestling. He had never seen them wrestling before, he was fascinated by the moves. He watched with attention and when they finished, he asked Damen if he could have lessons in this too. Nikandros said he could teach him as he had already taught Laurent. He also suggested that Adrien could train with Lysias, his own nephew because they were of an age. The lessons started on the next day, Laurent had been consulted as Adrien’s guardian and had agreed. Lysias was a pleasant looking dark haired boy, they were of similar height and built and both very keen to learn. Lysias had already started training some time ago but not with a boy his own age. It made the matches more interesting. Adrien, as with other things, learned quickly and he could soon hold his own with Lysias. They became friends. They muddled in each other’s language and they found that they were progressing much quicker by talking with each other than they did with their tutors. Soon it was impossible to see one boy without the other one in tow. Fido took to Lysias too and the stay in Ios passed far too rapidly for Adrien. In the spring they returned to Marlas. Life went on for Adrien, busy with lessons, sports, travels to Arles or Acquitart and to Ios again. He kept correspondence with Lysias who even came to stay for some months in Arles. Adrien met with his grandpa in Acquitart every time he was there, Emile talked to him about his mother, telling tales about her childhood and what kind of a person she was. Emile never mentioned Adrien’s father. Laurent had made it very clear to Emile that he, alone, was in control of this particularly sensitive subject. Adrien also saw his aunt in Fortaine. She now lived in a large house with servants to help her with the rescued children, as well as with her own. She was happy the way her life had turned out, without any worries about the future for her or her children. Chantal had never mentioned Adrien’s father, for one thing, she did not who he was, and when Adrien did ask her one day, she just said what was, after all, the truth: he was a soldier, he died before Adrien’s birth and she had never met him. She knew that Adrien was living in the fort at Marlas with his uncle, and she assumed his uncle was a servant of the King. Laurent had decided that he would wait for Adrien’s questions before talking about his parentage and as Adrien was waiting for Laurent to speak first, the subject never came up. Damen had several times broached the problem with Laurent, but Laurent was not prepared to change his mind. Adrien came to forget about the secret. He was King Laurent’s cousin, the King was his guardian, that was enough for him. He did not really feel the need to know any more, time passed, he had a great life. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Adrien was now in his fifteenth year. He was an accomplished rider and often went on long rides with either Laurent or Damen. On one particular day at Marlas, he went racing with Damen through the park. The park was lovely, different kind of trees and flower bushes had been planted and had matured. Statues were found at different spots as well as benches and pergolas. The old ruins had been restored to create a pleasant area where one could have a picnic or a rest in the shade or just a quiet read. Adrien rode towards the ruins, his favorite area. Not far from the ruins was a plain but quite large commemorative plaque of white marble bearing a single inscription: Auguste. Adrien had seen it many times before without paying more attention to it than to the other monuments in the park. But today was different. All around the base of the plaque, the ground was covered with bunches of cut flowers, some were ordinary wildflowers bouquets and others were rich and more elaborate bouquets made of roses or lilies. The sweet smell of all these flowers was overwhelming and Adrien dismounted his horse to take a closer look. Adrien was not alone near the flowers, an elderly man was there too, he had just laid a bouquet and he was pulling himself up. He was richly dressed and had the bearing of a nobleman. He turned round to look at the new arrival and Adrien was pretty sure he had never before set eyes on this man at court. Damen had caught up with Adrien, he had voluntarily held his horse back to give the adolescent the pleasure of being well ahead in the chase. He bitterly regretted it now. He should have prevented this ride to end in this very place, Auguste’s memorial plaque, which Damen knew was always covered with flowers near the time of the anniversary date of the battle. The elderly man looked at the newly arrived rider and his face became a mask of hatred when he recognized Damen :« How dare you show your face here, Prince-killer », he spat, «you should at least have the decency to keep well away from here. But you have no decency at all, have you, and neither has shameful Laurent of Vere who lets you fuck him, his own brother’s killer ».Adrien stood, petrified, as his brain slowly deciphered the words the man had spoken. One look at Damen’s horrified face told him that the man was speaking the truth. He could only think of one person: Laurent. Laurent would explain. He desperately needed to talk to Laurent, now. He jumped on his horse and galloped back toward the fort. Damen hesitated, should he catch up with Adrien and try to explain or should he go straight to Laurent to warn him. He didn’t hesitate very long because Laurent always came first on his priority list of concerns. He had one advantage over Adrien, he knew exactly where to find Laurent at this moment in time so, he rode as fast as he could in the direction opposite to the one taken by Adrien. Laurent was at Marlas harbor, he was discussing the feasibility of extending the docks with the engineers. Thanks to the now well-established peace, trade had expanded and the Artes Empire commercial fleet was trading farther and farther than Akielos or Vere, on their own, ever did. Damen found Laurent examining the proposed options from the engineers. Laurent took one look at Damen’s grim face and immediately requested a break from the meeting. The 2 Kings walked towards the seashore, away from prying ears, and Damen reported what had happened in the park. Back at the fort, Adrien was told Laurent was at the harbor. So, that was why Damen had not followed him. By the time he arrived, Adrien was furious because he’d had time to think and he realized that much of the past history had been deliberately concealed from him by both Laurent and Damen. Some facts regarding the last war were common knowledge but because the country was now at peace the war never mentioned. He remembered Laurent telling him that he would reveal to him the secret of his parentage when he was older. Adrien felt that there was probably a lot more that Laurent ought to have revealed to him by now but had not done so. He knew the 2 lovers were probably discussing the matter now, maybe even working out some lies to pacify him. He was not going to make it easy for them, he was far too upset and angry, he was determined to try and find out the truth for himself first. He knew Laurent had an older brother called Auguste who had been killed in the war at the same time than his father, that was common knowledge. Today he found out that Damen had been his killer. Laurent had told Adrien that he was his brother’s son but he had never mentioned this brother’s name at the time. That was what Adrien needed to find out. Some of the servants in Marlas were old and had been there all their lives. They must now the history. Adrien found the man he wanted, sitting on a step and smoking his pipe at usual. He was a retired soldier who still lived in the fort, rendering some little services when asked. Adrien sat next to him, made easy remarks about the good weather, about how nice life was with the country at peace. The old man agreed, he remembered the wars, of course, such terrible times, he was on the field 15 years ago, when Vere lost Delpheur to Akielos. The worst day of his life, he said. Adrien nodded, he knew that history, he said, King Aleron and crown prince Auguste had both fallen on that dreadful day. But what, did he ask, had happened to prince Laurent’s other brothers? The soldier looked at him with surprise: King Aleron only ever had 2 children. His Queen had died in childbirth a few months before the war started. The baby had been a girl and she had died also.King Laurent had never had another brother. Adrien grew very cold. The truth was even worse. Auguste was his father and Damen had killed him. No wonder Laurent hid this from him. He was protecting Damen.Damen and Laurent. Laurent and Damen. Always there for each other.Adrien had thought he was part of their family. But, no, it was a lie. They only cared for each other. He did not think he could bear to be near them again, ever, it hurt so much. He rushed to his room, collected as much money as he could find, took some jewelry as well as some clothes and calling for Fido to follow him, he rode out of Marlas fort with the intention of never coming anywhere near the place again.Adrien knew that search parties would probably be organized to find him. His best chance to disappear was to make it to the border, Vask or Patras, he had not decided, he had no firm plan, just getting away. So, he rode as fast as he could to get some distance between him and the search parties. They would take some time to organize. He passed an inn on the way but he couldn’t afford to stop there for the night because the inn would be searched. When darkness started to fall he left the road and stopped near a stream to settle for the night. Fido was unhappy, the large dog was hungry, no one had delivered his usual food. But Fido was a hunting hound, so seeing that Adrien was not forthcoming with food, he left his master and went searching for supper. Adrien was left on his own. He didn’t like it without Fido. He had never been totally alone before, he was not frightened as such, he knew that he could fight, he had brought his sword and 2 knives, but he could not remember a situation where he had not heard human voices somewhere in the background. The woods were noisy, but no human sounds. And he had no food either. He could hunt, but it was too late and besides, he had not brought a javelin. All he could do was try to sleep, he would think of a plan in the morning.Adrien spent a bad night. Fido had come back eventually and Adrien had snuggled to him for comfort and warmth. The ground was hard, he had no blanket, getting comfortable was not possible. By morning, he was sore and hungry and working out an escape plan did not look as easy as it had been on the previous day. Fido left him again to get his own breakfast. Adrien remembered the last time he had been hungry, it was at Marlas when he had being too embarrassed to eat in company because he couldn’t use his knife and fork.Laurent had guessed and had food brought to him in his bedroom. Laurent had been attentive to his needs, he had cared. And the next day, he and Damen had taught him how to eat properly.He couldn’t control the flood of memories in his head: Rescue from Gaston by Laurent, and then the safe and comfortable life afterward. He had forgotten what it was like to be hungry, lonely and uncared for. Lots of little memories kept rushing in, he had so much fun, seen so much while traveling, learning as he went along. Laurent and Damen had never left him out, he had always accompanied them everywhere they went. He had always been included in their lives. These memories made him feel bad about his feelings on the previous day. It was unfair to have thought that they didn’t care. He should have at least given them a chance to explain. He felt guilty about running away because he was quite certain they were worried for him, Laurent did not deserve his ungratefulness after all he’d done for him, he felt wretched.And just as if he wasn’t miserable enough, it started to pelt down with rain.He was drenched within minutes, that was too much, tears started to run down his cheeks. And Fido was nowhere to be seen.....Jord had seen that something was wrong when Adrien rushed past him with his sword on his back, which was unusual. He saw the adolescent gallop out of the fort with Fido running next to the horse. He had only glimpsed at Adrien’s face, but he had seen the dark anger on it. Protecting Adrien had always been part of Jord’s mission, but, by the look of it, the adolescent needed some space, fine, Jord would let him have a head start before he followed and made sure he was safe. He collected 2 dogs from the kennels, let them have a good sniff at Fido’s scent and he rode out as well. He left a message for Laurent that Adrien was with him.The 2 dogs found the place were Adrien had left the road to enter the woods at nightfall. Jord settled himself against a tree trunk and decided to spend the night there. He had noticed over the years, that Adrien often reacted like Laurent when he was troubled – he needed some time to work things out on his own - so he hoped that by morning Adrien would have worked out whatever his problem was and felt better for it. Dawn came and brought heavy rain with it. Not much fun at all. His dogs started to bark, Jord had tied them to a tree, he did not want to loose them chasing rabbits. The intruder was Fido. Jord put it also on a leash and with the 3 dogs and his horse, he followed the trail to find Adrien. Adrien’s relief at the sight of Jord was obvious on his face. He was pleased for the rain which hid his tears.« Got a bit lost did you, » said Jord, « lucky I was riding this way, then ». « You never ride out with dogs, Jord » « Well, today I did, can’t think why » smiled the soldier, « how about making for the nearest inn, I’d like to dry out and eat ». Adrien nodded and they rode away together. They reached the inn and made themselves comfortable sitting at a table in front of the fire. « I know who my father was, I know who killed him » blurted Adrien suddenly. Jord was shocked, it showed on his face. He had not realized how serious this was. Adrien did not miss his reaction: « You knew. Was I the only one not to know? » So Jord explained: No, only Laurent, Damen, Jord and Emile knew for sure. He said Arnoul and Marjorie probably suspected. Not Chantal? no, she was not told. Jord chose to tell Adrien the story with his own simple words. Silently, he cursed Laurent for not having done so before now. He told Adrien of how Laurent had found the letter from his mother to his father, of his quest to find Adrien and bring him up. He told him of the unconditional love Laurent had for Auguste, of his desperation when Auguste had been killed by prince Damianos. He told him of the hatred Laurent had felt for Damen when they first met but, also, of how they had found a common interest : fighting their usurpers, the Regent for Laurent and Kastor for Damen and preventing a war. And how they had fallen in love in the process. « But how could Laurent fall in love with the man who killed his own beloved brother? How is it possible, did he not fight it? » « Oh, I’m sure he did. And believe me, at the beginning, Laurent was not nice with Damen, in fact, he was downright cruel. Have you ever noticed the scars on Damen’s back ? ». « Yes, he gives me wrestling lessons, they’re awful, who did them? » « Laurent did, and that was not the only unpleasant thing he did to him. If you thought he just swooned in Damen’s arms, then you are very much mistaken. I hope that one day you will experience for yourself that love cannot be controlled, these 2 were made for each other, they couldn’t fight it ».Adrien did not speak for a while, he was coming to term with the fact that he did not know much of their story at all. When he had met them, all he had seen was a couple deeply in love with each other, they had raised him and he had never thought that their relationship could have been different in the past. Jord broke the silence. « I was a member of your father’s guard, I fought at Marlas. It was a terrible battle, all battles are terrible. You are like mad, all you can think about is kill, again and again. Damen and Auguste were no different, 2 young men who had been brought up to fight and to win, without qualms. They did not know that there were other ways to resolve conflicts. But the world is different now, Laurent and Damen have made it so. Your generation will live in peace and prosperity thanks to them ». « But why did Laurent wanted to hide that he was my uncle, that I was Auguste’s son? » « Because your parents were not married. You were born out of wedlock, it ‘s unacceptable in Vere, worst still if it happens in the royal family. Your mother was not of noble blood, prince Auguste could never have married her. Laurent kept this quiet because he did not want his brother’s reputation to be tarnished. And Emile did not want his daughter’s reputation to be tarnished either ».Adrien had heard all his life that he was an orphan. He now understood that he was a bastard and that Laurent’s lies were meant to protect him as well as Auguste’s reputation. He was ashamed to have run away the way he did and to have caused pain and worry to both Laurent and Damen.« We should get back », said Adrien », they must be worried, they don’t know where I am » « They know you are with me, don’t fret, take whatever time you need before we return ». Adrien smiled and looked at Jord « I need to return, now, thank you Jord, for finding me ». « Thank the dogs » laughed Jord, and they rode back to Marlas.Laurent was going back and forth to the window since daylight. From this room, he had the best possible view of the road leading to the entrance of the fort. Damen had reminded him a few times that they would be told immediately after the riders were spotted from the entrance watch tower, but it had been to no avail. The last time Damen had opened his mouth he had been rewarded with one of Laurent’s best snide remarks so, he now kept quiet. At lunch time, Damen had ordered cold food to be brought to a small table near the window because he knew that Laurent would not make it to the dining room and that it was the only way he could get him to eat something. Laurent had just put a morsel in his mouth when he spotted 2 riders a long way off. He rushed down followed by Damen. By the time they arrived at the entrance of the fort, he saw the riders were preceded by 3 dogs. No doubt about it, they were Adrien and Jord. Laurent’s stomach was twisted with anxiety. He felt suddenly shy, uncertain of how to act with his young nephew. Of how this reception was going to turn out to be. Adrien jumped off his horse and after a fraction of hesitation, he rushed into Laurent’s open arms. They hugged each other for a minute, then Adrien, still in Laurent’s arms, extended his arm and open hand towards Damen. Damen took it and held tight. They looked at each other, happy, relieved to be reunited. No words were pronounced. All three knew that they had hours of questions, explanations, probably tears ahead of them, but also that they wanted to be together and that it would be right in the end. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The festivities at Marlas were to last one month.The multi celebrations started with the royal marriage of Damen and Laurent, they had postponed it several times before, wanting to make sure it would be welcomed by their people. The date was chosen because it was Adrien ‘s 15th birthday and they proclaimed him their adopted son and heir. There were music, dancing, and happiness everywhere in and around Marlas. The people were rejoicing in their Kings happiness. The Kings were presiding over the long dining table set in the courtyard of the fort and all eyes were on them and on Adrien. They were so handsome, young and in love.Guests had been arriving from all over. From Akielos and Vere of course, but also from Vask and Patras. Among the royal and noble guests were also some ordinary people: Arnoul, Marjorie and Emile had been invited and had made the journey and so had Chantal and her 4 children.His Akielon friend, Lysias, came with his uncle, Nikandros. Adrien was delighted to welcome his friend and his family at Marlas. Lysias’s younger sister, Polyxena, was standing next to him. She was 6 months younger than Adrien and last time he had seen her, she had been just a child.Now, he was struck by her beauty. He thought that nymphs must have looked like Polyxena. She had long dark hair, gray eyes smiling at him and a heart shaped face. He felt butterflies in his stomach and was tongue-tied. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.Damen, who was present to welcome his friend Nikandros, did not miss Adrien’s reaction and smiled broadly, thinking what a beautiful Queen young Polyxena would make. He asked for the seating plan for tonight’s dinner to be slightly changed so that Adrien had Polyxena immediately by his side instead of Lysias, just swapping places really..... Some things had to be encouraged.....Laurent was not the only one who could plan ahead.....And if some of the older generation of noblemen and women of the Veretian court wondered at young Crown Prince Adrien’s likeness with the late Crown Prince Auguste, they kept their thoughts to themselves.The end
10773597	We have an emergency	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Melissa McCall, Sheriff Stilinski, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Scott McCall, Allison Argent, Jordan Parrish", "Fandom": "Teen Wolf (TV)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by triggeringthehealing (froggydarren)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-30T00:00:00", "words": "2,935", "Additional Tags": "Alternate Universe - Human, Deputy Stiles Stilinski, Firefighter Derek Hale, 5+1 Things, medical emergencies, EMT Allison Argent, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall", "Relationship": "Pre-Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski - Relationship", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": "FullmoonFiclet Entries", "Collections": "Full Moon Ficlet Prompt #221: Emergency", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	“Come on, Melissa, I’m fine,” Stiles protests loudly.He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, his uniform ruffled and shirt undone, fingers clutching the edge of the mattress.“You’ll be fine when I say you are,” Melissa replies without looking at him, scribbling down notes on the pad in her hand. “I’ll need you to lie back down and stay still.”“I’m fine,” Stiles repeats, but he does as she says and slumps onto the pillow. “It’s nothing that a little fresh air couldn’t fix.”“Who’s got the medical experience here, kid?”“You?”“That’s right,” she says firmly. “Now, your blood test will be a while, but I’m gonna need you to get the oxygen mask on and keep it there until I tell you it’s okay to take it off.”“I wasn’t even…” Stiles starts, but Melissa levels him with a glare that leaves no room for argument. “Fine,” he says with resignation and grabs the mask out of her hand.He’s been brought into the emergency room -- under duress, he stated several times -- after he and his partner were called out to the scene of a fire a few hours earlier. The fire brigade had arrived after them, and both Stiles and Parrish spent a little too much time around the smoke for the EMTs to be comfortable just letting them go, apparently. So he’s in Melissa’s hands now, the same ones he used to appreciate when it came to his Dad’s health.“I’m still supposed to be on shift,” he mumbles into the mask, knowing that he’s sounding a little like a petulant child.“And I’m sure your father would rather you get checked over thoroughly instead of letting possible smoke inhalation mess up your lungs,” Melissa tells him. “Don’t make me call him to talk sense into you.”“He’ll probably be here soon anyway, I’m sure he heard,” Stiles says with a deep sigh that sends a fresh load of air into his lungs.So he coughed once while at the scene. He just stupidly did it within earshot of one of the firemen -- Chief Hale -- who immediately alerted the EMTs.“Stupid overprotective Hale,” Stiles mutters to himself as he thinks back on the Chief’s decision to get him checked out. “Could’ve been back in the car with Parrish already, but no…”His shoulders slump as he keeps breathing through the mask, and he starts running through the events of the afternoon in his mind so he remembers all the details later, when he’ll inevitably end up writing the report. He might as well use the time for something, since Melissa won’t let him leave until she’s completely happy with his results. He’s learned that lesson over the years he’s been her son’s best friend.-=-=-=-=-It’s not a fire the second time they run into each other that week. Stiles gets to the scene as fast as he can, ignoring Parrish’s complaints about his driving. And yet, the fire brigade is already there, Reyes and Boyd standing at the back of the truck with worried expressions on their faces as they’re looking up.Stiles follows their matching gazes to the roof of the school, and he almost -- almost, dammit -- gasps at the sight that greets him.“What the fuck is he doing up there?” Stiles asks when he sees Hale on the ledge, ladder quite a distance away from him.“He refused to let anyone else up,” Boyd grunts. “Said he knows how to deal with it.”“Fuck protocol, right,” Stiles says with a sigh. “He shouldn’t be up there.”“Kid wasn’t gonna jump,” Reyes -- Erica, Stiles reminds himself -- says, her eyes fixed on her Chief still. “Got stuck when the Seniors were pulling a prank, but Derek still insisted he’d go up to help.”“Small mercies, I guess,” Stiles says.They all watch as Chief Hale helps the kid back up from the side of the building, and they follow him as he climbs back down. Both the Chief and the kid are almost on the ground when the ladder shakes, the kid loses his balance, and they both come tumbling down onto the lawn below them.This time it’s Stiles who insists that the EMTs -- who arrived just after Stiles and Parrish -- check Chief Hale over and bring him to the hospital to rule out breaks and concussions. Payback.-=-=-=-=-=-The next time that he’s brought to the hospital, he’s cringing in embarrassment. He knows why he’s there, and he knows it’s unnecessary , but he also remembers the exact sequence of events that led to him being there.“I thought you were past fainting at the sight of blood, kiddo,” his father says when he gets in.“This wasn’t just blood, Dad,” Stiles protests weakly.The scene that he went to was particularly gruesome, but Stiles is still not proud of his fainting spell. It wasn’t the blood really, that made his head spin, but the burns on the victim and the still smoldering parts of the house. He was the first on the scene, before the fire trucks or the on duty patrol car arrived. He’s gotten better with blood, and with injuries of all different kinds, but fire… fire is still something he’s having a hard time with. He doesn’t know how the firefighters do it.“I saw,” John says, and he lets out a sigh. “I also saw that you were there before the scene was cleared for anyone to enter.”“Dad…”“No, do not Dad me here kid,” John said sternly. “As your father and your boss, I’m extremely unimpressed right now. You went in before the fire department even got there, without backup. You’re lucky that Chief Hale was there so fast.”“Oh no,” Stiles mutters at the mention of the Fire Chief. “Please don’t tell me…”“He’s the one who got you out, yes,” John says, and there’s a smirk playing on his lips. “Glad he did. Extra glad he checked the house before they doused it with water.”“I’m never gonna live this down,” Stiles says, slumping into the pillows on the bed.“Well, at least you’re gonna live to tell the tale,” John laughs, “even if it’s missing the parts where you were carried out of the house.”“He did what?” Stiles sits up a little too fast, and them falls back into the pillows when his head spins.He pointedly ignores his father’s chuckles, and instead decides that a nap will somehow help restore his dignity.-=-=-=-=-=-Parrish stops the patrol car at the neighboring house when they arrive. There’s a commotion in the street, and Stiles can barely spot the firefighters among the crowd, though the truck is right in front of the house they got called to. He can’t see smoke, which makes him let out a relieved sigh, but the amount of bystanders who look like they’re impeding the firefighters’ work is worrying.“Think we’ll need backup?” Stiles asks Parrish as they start getting out.“We’ll see. Keep the comm handy though,” Parrish says, already assessing the situation.They walk past the Fire Chief’s car on the way to the scene, and Stiles can’t help but look for Chief Hale. When he can’t see the familiar dark hair among the uniforms, he starts worrying, because he’s so used to Hale always being somewhere very visible.“Where’s the Chief?” Parrish asks, like he’s reading Stiles’ mind. “Who can brief us?”“No fire, no smoke, call was to a recovery from the roof,” Reyes rattles off. “Simple job, ladder fell down and the guy slipped down the side. EMTs got him now, but he’s…”She’s interrupted by a protesting yell from where the ambulance is, and Stiles glances over to spot the injured guy fighting the EMTs, though he’s strapped to the gurney.“He’s been fighting us about getting admitted,” Reyes finishes with a heavy sigh. “I’m guessing he doesn’t have insurance, but since we got the call, Chief insisted on getting him checked out.”“Of course he did,” Stiles grumbles. “Where is he, anyway?”Both he and Parrish turn in the direction that Reyes points to, and Stiles freezes when he sees blood on Chief Hale’s face.“What the hell happened?” Parrish asks sharply.“Guy really didn’t want to be treated, even though his arm was covered in blood,” Lahey -- another one of the firefighters who appears next to them -- explains. “Chief insists that he’s fine, he just tried to help hold the guy and got a fist in the face for his trouble. That’s not his blood. Or so he says.”The EMTs finally get the gurney into the ambulance with the help of some of the other firefighters and a civilian -- the way she’s talking to the injured guy, Stiles figures it’s his wife. Before they drive off, though, one of them turns to Chief Hale. She’s rewarded with a shake of the head, and a frown that Stiles is all too familiar with. It’s the one that says “no” in several unspoken languages. Allison -- the EMT -- is however determined, and walks closer, making the frown intensify in a way that even Stiles thought was impossible.“I’m gonna check in with the EMTs,” Stiles says. “You okay?” He turns to Parrish for a beat, and then heads towards the ambulance when he sees Parrish’s nod.Allison is frowning right back at Hale when Stiles reaches them, and he’s momentarily wondering whether he should get in the middle of that stand-off.“What’s up, Chief?”“Nothing, I’m fine,” Hale grunts out the response, eyes still on Allison.“See, I’m not so sure,” Stiles starts, already knowing he’s about to ramble. “I can very clearly see blood, and while I’m willing to give a moment to your insistence that it’s not yours, I also don’t completely believe you. So how about you just let Miss Argent here look you over, maybe wipe off the bodily fluids, and while she’s doing that, she can brief me on the fallen hero over there,” he finished with a nod towards the ambulance.It’s just the right thing to say, apparently, because Hale turns to Stiles, and that’s enough for Allison to step closer and put her hands on the bloodied cheek. The hiss Stiles hears when her fingers touch the Chief’s cheek is enough for him to dig his heels in and insist that the fire truck deal without their Chief until he gets checked out in the hospital.He’s not gloating when the ambulance drives off with Chief Hale on the passenger seat. That would be childish, and he’s a mature officer of the law who doesn’t gloat.-=-=-=-=-=-The easiest of the calls is the one where they go to the scene of a fire as backup, long after the fire trucks have arrived. Those times, in Beacon Hills, the most that Stiles needs to do is interview the people who were nearby, and then fill out all the reports when he’s done.The toughest of the calls… well, the one that ended up with him fainting definitely counts, but the absolutely worst calls are the ones that have him and Parrish at the scene before the firefighters. Especially when there are victims who are extra vulnerable, and need more help.“Parrish, we have to go in!” Stiles shouts over the noise of the flames from the house. “The truck is still a few minutes out, we’ve gotta…”“We can’t! You don’t know when…” Parrish yells back, his eyes darting between Stiles and the house.Just then, one of the window panes breaks and more flames burst out of it on the top floor. Stiles’ heart is beating in his throat, and he scans the rest of the windows for signs of anyone needing help. There are shadows and there’s smoke, too much of both to let him see anything.“Stiles!” Parrish calls out when Stiles starts moving towards the house to get a better look. “Come on, it’s too late for us to go in! The truck will be here soon, stop !”He can’t wait though. Can’t just stand around to wait for the firefighters, can’t do nothing. So he goes closer, keeps checking the windows to see if there’s anyone there. Behind him, he can hear Parrish shouting some more, and through the roar of the flames above he thinks he can hear tires screeching to a halt.Just when he’s about to turn to check if the fire truck is getting there, another window on the second floor bursts out, and glass shards fly everywhere. Stiles does the only thing he can think of right then: he ducks down and curls in on himself, his back out like a shield. He can feel the prickling pain as the glass rains down on him, and hears the stomping of feet running towards him. There’s still glass falling a few beats later as the next window pane breaks -- or at least he thinks that’s what he’s hearing -- but none of it seems to be falling on him this time.“Don’t move,” the familiar voice of Chief Hale orders when he tries to stand up. “Are you trying to get yourself killed? Why are you this close to the house?”“There could’ve been people,” Stiles replies weakly, wondering if he’s loud enough to be heard over the roar of the flames and the fire truck engine.“You’re insane, and you’re going right into the ambulance, since apparently that’s what it’s here for now,” Chief Hale says, and helps Stiles carefully get off the ground.There’s glass everywhere on the lawn, and they slowly walk over to the trucks, where a frantic Parrish is standing.“I told you to stay here!” Parrish says, his voice tinted with anger and worry.Stiles doesn’t dare to talk as he’s led towards Allison, who’s already putting on gloves and setting out her kit to help, her movements betraying her worry.“RIght, both of you, stand here,” she says to Stiles and the Chief.“I have to…” Chief Hale starts, but he’s shut down by a glare from her that sends chills down Stiles’ spine that have nothing to do with the glass pieces still embedded in his uniform.“You have to nothing, Derek,” she says. “Your team is on it, Boyd’s got it under control. The house was empty,” she says with a pointed glare at Stiles. “The only thing either of you is doing is standing here, letting me get the glass out of wherever it went, and then going to the hospital.”The way that they curse in unison would normally get some sort of pleasant or amused reaction from Stiles, but this time he just obeys Allison’s instructions and keeps his mouth shut.-=-=-=-=-=-“I’m not here for me ,” Stiles says when he runs into Chief Hale -- Derek , he reminds himself -- at the nurses’ station.“Did I say anything?” Derek asks, but it’s that little bit too defensive, giving away that he was going to comment on Stiles being in the hospital again .It’s a few months after the fire that had both of them treated for cuts, pointedly ignoring each other even though they were in the same room.“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m waiting for my friends,” Stiles says just as defensively. “They had their first ultrasound appointment.”“Allison?” Derek asks, looking surprised.“How did you know?”“I’m here to pick her up,” Derek says. “ You are Scott’s best friend. I should’ve known.”“What’s that supposed to mean?” Stiles bristles.“I’ve heard stories about the things you two got up to,” Derek tells him, his lips curled into a smile, eyes shining with amusement. “Not that I expected the young delinquent to have grown up to be an officer of the law.”“Well, it helped knowing the laws we were very much not breaking back them,” Stiles says, matching Derek’s grin.The laugh he gets in response takes his breath away a little. He’s too used to seeing Derek as the Fire Chief, stern and serious, and the smile on his face is fascinating. When Stiles’ mouth drops open in surprise, he doesn’t miss the way Derek’s eyes follow the movement.“Oh wow,” a voice from behind their backs interrupts the moment.They both turn around and come face to face with Allison, who’s unabashedly grinning at them. Stiles briefly considers frowning, but her dimpled face looks too happy to be angry at.“This strangely makes sense,” she says without explanation, and Stiles glances at Derek, who looks just as confused.“What?” They ask in unison when they both turn back to her.“Oh wow,” Scott says when he walks up behind her. “You were right.”“What?” Stiles asks again.“Right, we’re going for breakfast. You two are coming with,” Allison says, leaving no room for an argument.He could try, but Stiles knows better than to try and reason with that tone. The last time he heard it, he had glass shards all over his back, and the memory alone is enough to make him follow her and Scott outside. Derek reluctantly follows, apparently also not willing to fight Allison’s decision.By the time Allison and Scott leave again, the breakfast has turned into brunch, Derek and Stiles are deep in a conversation that makes them forget everything around them. In Stiles’ opinion -- not that anyone bothers asking -- there really isn’t any need for Allison’s “don’t make out in public, you’ll get in trouble” comment as she walks away.He’s not thinking about that, honest.When he meets Derek’s gaze though, he wonders if he should be.
10720335	Delicate	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Robbie Rotten, Sportacus (LazyTown)", "Fandom": "LazyTown", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by gayzytown", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-24T00:00:00", "words": "710", "Additional Tags": "Panic Attacks, Anxiety Attacks, a req from tumblr !!, this is a real sad 1, b careful !!, Angst", "Relationship": "Robbie Rotten/Sportacus", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	The porcelain bowl fell almost in slow motion, the smooth, white finish glistening in the flourescent light of Robbie’s lair, the rim shaking from the impact of Sportacus’s wrist, the wind gently rushing past the sleek sides as it fell down, down, down. It hit the hard, metal floor with an earth-shattering roar; a beautiful, artisan bowl, a tool, a centerpiece, an object of Robbie Rotten’s, broken and lying in pathetic, jagged pieces on the ground. It was still. The world seemed to come to a standstill as Sportacus looked at the terrible jigsaw fragments with a mix of fear and guilt. He slid to his knees, realizing he’d been a terrible inconvenience to Robbie, coming to his house, breaking his things, costing him money and time and energy. He couldn’t believe he’d been so selfish. “Sportacus?” a voice rang out. Sportacus let out a small gasp and looked up to see Robbie standing over him, looking down with sympathy and concern that Sportacus didn’t deserve. “Don’t pick it up with your hands, love, you’ll get cut. I’ll grab a broom.” “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Robbie, I just-” he stopped himself. “I’m so clumsy, and selfish- I never meant-” he stopped himself again. “Oh, no, Sportacus it was an accident. No need to feel bad,” Robbie told him. Sportacus felt tears roll down his face and was suddenly ashamed. Freaking out over something he broke? Again? A soft whimper slipped from between his red lips, a stark contrast against his ghostly pale face, drained of color and emotion.Robbie watched Sportacus shake and tremble and look down at the debris. “It- it’s okay, Sportacus, I got it from the dollar store. I can get a new- I didn’t even like that one,” Robbie tried. Sportacus wrapped his arms around his chest and took a deep breath. “…sorry,” he said. “I know I’m overreacting, but I don’t mean to, I just…” he growled at himself. Robbie kneeled next to him. “No need to apologize, Sportacus, I… whatever’s bothering you, whether it’s the broken bowl or-or something else, you’re not overreacting and also…I love you so much, you’re really important to me,” Robbie told him, gently placing a hand on the elf’s shoulder. Sportacus coughed and took a short, gasping breath. His legs suddenly couldn’t support him anymore, and he fell into Robbie’s embrace, clutching the tall man’s vest as if the overwhelming doom he felt was going to pull him away, into a great, dark abyss of gnashing teeth and ripping flesh. “I can’t… control myself, or anything, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry you have to deal with-” “Sportacus, no, I’m sorry to interrupt you and I love you, but nothing you do or have ever done would make you any less of an absolute delight to be around, okay?” Robbie started, “I love you so much, and I completely understand that sometimes you don’t feel too good and you get a little, like, anxious and stuff, it doesn’t make me love you any less and it doesn’t make you an inconvenience or a nuisance or anything like that, okay, Sportacus?”Sportacus understood but in this state of mind it was hard for him to believe it, no matter how hard he tried. “No, you can’t…” he trailed off. Robbie wrapped both of his arms around his short partner and held him tighter. “I love you, and love is like… no matter what you do, or how anxious you are, you’re still the most important person in the whole world and I’d still do anything for you.”Overwhelmed by his feelings, paranoia, guilt, and love among many others, Sportacus couldn’t find any words to dispute Robbie’s, and so he just continued to cry. Robbie understood and as opposed to saying something, he softly rubbed Sportacus’s muscular back with one hand, and trailed the other through the elf’s hair. Comfort joined the many emotions that filled Sportacus’s chest and forced the tears from his eyes, and exhaustion came not far behind; pushing the emotions and pulling Sportacus’s eyelids shut. They fluttered for a moment, fought very gently by an unexplainable need to stay awake, but the peace he found in Robbie was too much and he was asleep soon after.
10777140	Small Talks	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "F/M", "Characters": "Jareth (Labyrinth), Sarah Williams (Labyrinth)", "Fandom": "Labyrinth (1986)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by Beast_By_Name", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2015-02-02T00:00:00", "words": "1,137", "Additional Tags": "this is old, I was like 15, I'm sorry it's not the greatest but I don't think it's horrid, please just give it a try, maybe? - Freeform", "Relationship": "Jareth/Sarah Williams", "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	There she sat, long almost black hair pulled over her left shoulder. A weighted silver brush pulling the tendrils softly, her bright emerald eyes looking into the mirror before her. She was once again thinking back to him, Jareth, the man who stole her dreams and her heart. Did he know of the knowledge, of course not but she wasn't secretive about it either. It wasn't a thought the two share while speaking to one another, however it had crossed the mind of each, wondering if the other loved them back. Sarah came to the conclusion he was forever infuriated by her even breathing, all of that aside he was deeply in love with the girl who ate the peach. Sarah, though always fighting with him held his thoughts and emotions dear to her, tempting them with her very motions. They were lovers missing the stars that hung blatantly above them, stars soon turning to forged love. No matter how he'd taunt her and she'd retort it was almost their way of flirting, an unknown emotion laid before them but hidden to the blind eye.She thought of him over and over again, the call of his name drew him near to her. The sense of magic pooling around the now grown young woman, sparking the air gently like embers in the fire. Jareth was her fire starter as she was his, they belong to each other more so than either one knew. She was his queen in all thoughts even though the two weren't wed and neither had taken it upon themselves to think about uniting, for lack of better words. Sarah knew something other than saving her baby brother went on that fateful night in the labyrinth, something more powerful than time itself. They were the ones who'd pursued each other years later just to see the emotions that were held there, it wasn't hate or even anger, it was petty arguments when she knew he was right all along.So instead of being the normal woman she should be, she sat in front of her vanity thinking of a man she'd only classify as off the charts, egotistically clingy, ill mannered, Goblin King. He was everything she hated yet everything she wished she could have, but as well as she knew wishing only got you into trouble, and not the kind she particularly wanted."Shouldn't you be asleep by now, Precious?" He asked laying across her bed, his wild hair fanned out around him like a halo. She turned to him and rolled her eyes, drifting them down his body. Clad in his usual black poet shirt, light gray breeches, and tailored coal boots. She was enthralled by his seemingly sinful outfits, they captivated her in a lustful haze of teen dreams and pent-up aggression."Maybe so Goblin King, then again shouldn't you be doing your duties as king?" The brunette enquired to pale blonde before her, adjusting her T-shirt, moving to sit beside him on the bed only proved the acceptance of her. He moved over slightly pulling the woman to lay with him, watching her with a feline like grin."How was your day, Precious, dealing with mortals certainly must take its toil?" The tone of sarcasm evident in his voice, sending shivers down her spine as she wrapped her blankets around her waist. She merely shook her head and laid against his shoulder, they'd both assumed a friendship would be taken between the two of them and let it flourish into whatever had formed now. A gloved hand pushing her hair back before resting against her cheek, his mismatched eyes peering down at her. "Do tell what's bothering you love, I do care for your wellbeing you know." He flashed his pointed teeth at her, a use filled with endearment yet came off a bit sensual."Just a bad day, let's leave it at that Jareth, please." She whispered softly, her voice heavy with sleep as she dosed off against the Goblin King. A sudden peace overcoming the twenty-one year old, just being around him seemed to put her at ease, his natural calming took her worlds away to a dream realm which she cherished. Her fingers knotted in his soft mane, the locks tightly woven between her nimble fingers."Sleep well love," He trailed off, his lidded eyes watching her sleep soundly in his arms, hidden from harm's way. He knew more about their future than he cared to share with her, not before the time was right. He knew she was to be his betrothed but knew not to bring it up, the temper of her was one he wasn't willing to face on the matter. "My queen." He ghosted out in almost a tone too low for her to hear, a smile gracing her lips as she nuzzled closer to him. In spite of all the horrible things that went on between the two, they always had each other to depend on."My king," She whispered softly, her eyes open the slightest to see the shock written all over his face before her masked it with a smirk, one she loved to hate. A tender kiss pressed to his lips as she wrapped herself around him, holding on to him as if he would disappear without a trace. His arms wrapping around her lithe body, pulling her closer to him, his almost hummingbird like heartbeat sending an instant quickening in her pulse. His fingers tracing small patterns into her skin, the shirt had ridden up and exposed her back to his torturous touch. His gloves disappearing from existence, bare skin to bare skin, the flow of magic transferring into her skin. The shocks sending her into a comatose state of mind as she fought back a moan, biting her lip tightly as she buried her face into his neck.Sarah's breathes almost coming out in pants as he travelled her body with his hands, never pacing into a space he saw unfit to touch without permission. He loved to hear her withering at a mere touch of his bare hands, leaving her gasping for air when he wasn't even trying to rile her up."Who said I should be asleep by now?" She panted out and kissed him passionately, her hands moving through his hair and her body pushing into his. His hands slithering up her sides and under her shirt, kneading the flesh tenderly."I said should be, but when do you listen dearest?" He grinned and pounced on her body as if it was his life source, his very being needed and craved her. She gave in to him moaning and whimpering for release beneath him. Their bodies moving together as one as they become the true rulers of the Labyrinth, the Goblin King and Queen.
10702902	apollo byname phoebus	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Archie Andrews, Jughead Jones, Kevin Keller", "Fandom": "Riverdale (TV 2017)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Explicit", "author": "by contemptuous (orphan_account)", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-23T00:00:00", "words": "9,085", "Additional Tags": "First Time, Introspection, sloppy makeouts inside archie's truck because somebody had to do it, Internalised Homophobia, jughead is gay so keep on scrolling if you're not here for that", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Archie Andrews/Jughead Jones, Jughead Jones & Kevin Keller", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Jughead kisses Archie for the first time in the old truck, leant over the handbrake, with the orange glow of the streetlamp bouncing off them both. Thinking just for one, fragile, moment, that he’ll never be able to write anything encapsulating this feeling.=It’s 7PM, dark out, and Archie reaches over the booth to clasp Jughead’s hand in one of his. Jughead’s first instinct is to snatch it back, nearly upending his milkshake in the process.“What,” he hisses, “Are you doing?”“What?” Archie says, still with his hand resting on the tabletop, “We used to do it all the time.” There’s a laugh curled away in the slant of Archie’s smile. There always is.“Yeah, Archie, when we were kids,” he says, feeling defensive and caught out, like Archie somehow knows. It makes him feel dirty, and ashamed, and voyeuristic. Like he can’t control himself, can’t be friends with anyone without looking at them the wrong way. He turns back to his laptop, hoping the searing blue light will dim the warmth that Archie gives off, even when he’s just sitting there, iridescent red under the neon lights.Jughead feels more like a kid than ever.“Do you,” Archie murmurs, “Do you wish we were? Still, I mean.” Jughead chances a look over his laptop. He hates it sometimes, how easy it is for him to read Archie, unable to stop even when he wants to. He wanted to not know for a long time. Since the summer. He can’t forget it.It’s all there, laid out before him in the set of Archie’s shoulders, his eyes downcast, pulling his lip into his mouth and worrying it.“Yeah,” Jughead says, feeling similarly small, “Me too.”“I really missed you,” Archie says, “I swear.”Jughead sees him, the way his eyebrows pull together, distorting the scar he got falling out of the treehouse, remembers how he had cried, how he, himself, had screamed for help, thinking Archie must have been dying with all that blood leaking out of him. How they had clung together, aged 6 and three-quarters, both crying.“Me too,” he says, and puts his hand back on the table.“I missed you too,” Jughead says, and lets Archie curl their fingers together, like an apology physically coalescing between them. They don’t need to say anything else.=“Hey,” Archie had said, “Are we gonna be alright?”And Jughead had said, “Yeah,” and managed to look Archie in the eyes for a full millisecond before it became too much. His face felt hot and tight and like he didn’t know what he was doing with it, except grinning from ear-to-ear. Staring at the wet concrete of Archie’s driveway didn’t do anything to change that.“You sure?” Archie said, posed like some proto-typical manifestation of the American boy in the driver’s seat. One hand gripping the steering wheel, and the other slung round the back of Jughead’s headrest.And Jughead had said, “Yeah,” with Archie there and gold and red and giving off so much heat. Looking at him like he was all that mattered. Like Archie’s beat up, creaky truck was a bubble in space-time, from which no hidden emotion could escape.And Archie had said, “You sure? Really sure? Because I know what I said to you, and I know it was hurtful, and thoughtless, and I was really dumb-““Archie,” Jughead interrupts, “You’re not dumb.” But it doesn’t come out the way it was supposed to. He whispers it, too soft in such an enclosed space, and it makes his scalp prickle.Archie’s still looking at him, but he’s not smiling anymore, and there’s something there that makes Jughead aware that his mouth is partway open. He turns away. And then turns back. All the hair is standing up on his arms, scalp and legs, like he’s part of an electrical circuit.“You’re not dumb,” he says again. “Archie, you’re…” and thumps his palms down on his thighs, frustrated. He can’t vocalise what he wants to say. Like the presence of Archie’s hand, inches away from the back of his head through the armrest is enough to make his brain turn off. “You’re…”“Jughead,” Archie whispers, so, so, softly, and Jughead leans in and kisses him.It’s too fast, and too light – barely a brush of their mouths, but he doesn’t care at all. He’s done it. Jughead Jones kissed Archie Andrews in the front seat of his truck, visible to anyone who could be looking, and it counts. It counts as a kiss, this time, unlike when they were eight in his treehouse and Jughead suggested they try it to see what the fuss was about.“Oh,” Archie breathes.“Yeah,” Jughead says, looking down at this lap, “Oh.” He tries for a smile but it doesn’t feel right on his face (probably because he just kissed Archie Andrews). Well, it’s out there now. All of his feelings spread out between them, worse even than if Archie had just opened his diary and started reading. Jughead has no idea what to say. I’m sorry? I shouldn’t have done that? I didn’t mean it?“You kissed me,” Archie says. “Jughead-”“Well done,” Jughead blurts, feeling his signature scowl come on, sitting hunched over, picking at his fingers, “I kissed you.”“I’m sorry,” Archie says, and he pulls his arm away from Jughead. The palpable rejection is nearly too much for him. He wants to get out, pull his beanie down all the way over his ears, and try to forget about Riverdale, Archie Andrews, and the gentle, reflexive press of his mouth.Instead, he says, “It’s okay. I can walk home from here. Thanks for the ride.” Grabs his backpack, with all his unfinished homework crammed in it, and pops the side-door open. “See you at school tomorrow.”Archie reaches past him and closes the door.“No Jug, I didn’t mean – not like that,” he says. “Why’d you kiss me?” Jughead freezes.“I don’t know, Andrews, why do you kiss people?” It’s less vitriolic than he would like, less than he meant it, but Archie’s always made him better. Made him tell the truth.He feels more than hears Archie sigh. They’re practically sharing the same seat. Archie’s hand is still on the door. He can see them both reflected the fingerprint stained glass. “Don’t be like that,” Archie says. He’s smiling.“Maybe sardonic humour is just my way of relating to the world,” Jughead murmurs, watching Archie’s reflection slide his hand off the steering wheel, this twist of his mouth, the way his eyebrows are all the way up. His breathing goes shaky before Archie even touches him – a flat palm on the centre of his back, over his spine. They lock eyes in the glass, both glowing amber by the streetlight. Archie drags his hand up, and up, until it’s on the back of his neck, holding him still, settled. Like a dog. Jughead has to close his eyes and exhale in a shuddering rush.“Maybe,” Archie agrees, voice thick. “Let me kiss you back.” Jughead’s hands are shaking. Archie’s gaze is unwavering in the glass. His hand is so solid.“Jug,” he says, “let me kiss you.”“Yeah,” Jughead says, and turns just enough to catch his mouth.It’s a bad angle. Archie’s front is mostly pressed against his back, and Archie’s pulling at his neck to try and correct it and all that does is make Jughead moan into him. They still hold it for longer than is comfortable.When they pull apart Archie is beaming at him. “What?” Jughead says, feeling bright pink and happy and like he’s smiling way too big for this small place. He must look so stupid. The thought doesn’t even phase him.“Just you,” Archie says, playing with the loose bits of hair that have escaped from Jughead’s beanie. “Just you.”Jughead wants to kiss him again, so he does.Their mouths slide together, soft and plush. Jughead inhales sharply through his nose, pushing at Archie, making it deeper, clutching, aware that he’s clutching, and not caring at all. It’s so, so good. His body seems to know what to do even if he doesn’t; tilting his head into it, imitating the push and pull of Archie’s mouth against his.“Jesus, Jug, we could have been doing this ages ago,” Archie says.“Shut up, oh my god, shut up,” Jughead says, pulling Archie in by his stupid, slippery letterman jacket, kissing him again and again. Letting Archie push him up against the door, feeling his heat, the hot weight of his body crushing him to the glass.It’s making him hot all over, scalp prickling with it, and he whines when Archie catches his lower lip between his teeth and pulls.“Archie,” he’s panting between kisses, “Archie.” He gets kissed especially hard for that, head thunking back, and then Archie’s hands are there, cradling his jaw, sliding around to the back of his head.“Archie,” he says again, right as Archie comes in again and turns the series of fast, brutal presses into one slow kiss, sealing their mouths together.Jughead sighs through his nose, slinging one arm round Archie’s broad shoulders, and letting the other hand wander up into Archie’s hair. It’s soft and silky at the back and behind his ears, and when Jughead curls his fingers there Archie hums – fingers tightening momentarily on his jaw and neck.He wants more. He wants Archie’s hand to slide down, cup his throat, make him move the way Archie wants him to. The thought makes him push forward and open his mouth, making the kiss hotter and impossibly wetter. They both moan.Archie tips his head, and then his tongue is sliding over Jughead’s lower lip. It makes him shiver and open his mouth, but all Archie does is repeat that slow pass, again and again, until Jughead’s whole body feels tight. He’s panting, opening his legs and mouth further, running his hands over Archie’s shoulders and chest.“God,” Archie moans, “God, Jughead, you feel so fucking good.”“Kiss me,” he says, chasing Archie’s mouth, talking while grazing their mouths together, and it would make him sick if he saw anyone else doing this, but it’s Archie and it’s always been Archie and him, together against the world. “Kiss me.”Archie presses guitar-calloused thumbs at the hinges of Jughead’s jaw, forcing him to open his mouth, and then Archie licks into him.It’s a constant tickling pressure, forcing his tongue down, filling his mouth over and over again. Jughead find himself squeezing his eyes closed; opening himself up as much as possible to let Archie in. Kiss me, he thinks, feels the relief and elation when Archie tucks himself in closer, big hands spanning his jaw, curling in down to his neck.Kiss me, he thinks, and lets Archie draw his tongue into his mouth. The wet heat of it is absurd. He tries his best to emulate what Archie did to him – long slow licks that drag at the roof of his mouth. It makes Archie moan and haul him closer, one hand clamped over Jughead’s hip, and the other gripping his nape.“Oh,” Jughead says, dumbly, and then Archie sucks on his tongue. It’s a hot, prickling sensation that makes his body seize, bent in towards Archie. Fingers tangling and catching in his hair, the familiar ache between his legs. His hips punch up into Archie’s grip.Archie laughs at him. It’s completely outwith his control, but that doesn’t stop all the remaining blood in his body flow straight into his face. “Um,” he gets out, feeling all over the place and too big for this car, especially with Archie’s hands pulling at his seams.“My dad’s not home,” Archie whispers into his mouth. “Wanna come up?”Jughead gapes at him. It’s not that he doesn’t want to (God, he wants to) but the cognitive dissonance is so intense that for a moment it feels like he’s been knocked two metres out of his own body – still inhabiting it, but from a distance. His hands hooked around Archie’s neck, still clinging on, and his leg kicked out over Archie’s lap. Both of them twisted together in the front seat. An affront to the American ideal – the reason why people made jokes about the boys’ locker room, the showers, boys wearing pink. Jughead is Plato, and Archie is Jim, and it feels like some violation of the bounds of friendship and a sharp-edged metaphor all at once.“Yeah,” Jughead says, looking at Archie and hoping that conveys everything he’s thinking. Archie couldn’t sit through Rebel Without a Cause the first time, or the second, or the third, until Jughead looped their ankles together in the bed of the truck. Archie had promptly fallen asleep with his face pressed into Jughead’s neck – hot breath burning there. Jughead hadn’t understood the potentiation he’d felt, looking at James Dean and feeling Archie curled into him all at once. He understands now.James Dean doesn’t compare.=The windows are fogged up. He doesn’t know why he notices that, when he should undoubtedly be focused on the space widening between him and Archie as they stand separated by the car. Archie’s smiling at him, so widely and with such genuine joy that it makes Jughead want to yell, run, do cartwheels down the street to unleash the feeling sitting in his chest. Instead, he grabs his backpack out of the footwell and closes the door. When he comes back up, Archie is still looking at him over the roof of the car, one hand propping the door open.“Well,” Jughead teases, “Are you waiting for someone else?” He quirks an eyebrow, sways in place, and swings the bag strap of his shoulder, delighting in the way it makes Archie’s smile change to the same intense one he’d had in the car.It makes Jughead feel…something undefinable. Like his lungs are being displaced by something else liquid and gold filtering between his ribs. It makes his face hot, his palms itchy, and his shoulders curl in and up.The solid thuk of Archie’s door closing makes him jump, and something else entirely makes him turn and take the steps of the porch two at a time, hearing Archie’s ‘Hey!’ and thriving with how much at home he feels.He tags the door, and has enough time to start to turn round, wide-eyed and ready to crow, before Archie is on him. One arm slung around his waist, and the other gripping his chin, forcing him to stay still while Archie presses a kiss to his cheek and rocks them together.“You’re gross, Andrews,” he says, but he’s laughing through it. So is Archie, pressed up all along his back and giggling into his ear. It’s startling how easy it is. Some part of him really wants the neighbours to hear, pull back their lace curtains, and see the Jones and Andrews boys intertwined on the front porch. There’s no way to pass off this pose as anything platonic – not the way Archie’s palms are pressed flat and confident to his body, or the way Jughead has one hand cupping Archie’s neck, encouraging him.He wants them to see. He wants them to know. He wants everyone to look at them and know that it’s him Archie wants.He feels giddy.“Open the door,” Jughead says, bringing their faces inches apart. Archie takes a little longer than usual to comply, eyes stuck on Jughead – flittering over his face, as though trying to memorise him. Jughead watches him dig the keys out of his back pocket, slot them into the door, and turn.The door swings open without needing to turn the handle, like it always has. Jughead runs his hand down the wall – blind in the dark, and finds the light switch. It feels like it should’ve been in a different place. Nothing’s changed.He follows Archie up the stairs, sickly fascinated by the cinematic parallels between this, now, and the previous life that existed before the summer. How many times had he and Archie scrambled up here as kids, laughing and falling over each other in a pointless race. He can’t stop smiling. He hasn’t been able to stop smiling since he and Archie walked out of Pop’s, feeling lighter and absolved of both their sins.Archie stops on the landing and spins around, and Jughead – distracted – stumbles and walks into his chest. A lot changes in two months, he thinks, with Archie’s big hands spanning his forearms. He’s had to look down to meet Archie’s eyes since last year, but that doesn’t make it any less bizarre.“Still good?” Archie asks. His grip slackens a little on Jughead’s arms. He’s giving him an out.Jughead doesn’t want an out. He steps in, closer, until their noses are brushing.“Still good,” he whispers. Archie’s staring at his mouth. Jughead smirks, deliberately slowly, leans in, and then steps past Archie to open the door to his room. “You coming?” he says.Archie’s bedroom is the same as it ever was. Dark, messy, and unbelievably Archie. From the posters tacked on top of each other, to the permanent marker scrawled over the bedposts. Jughead was here, occupying space. It might be the only place – besides the drive-in – that he’s imparted pieces of himself on. He puts his bag down behind the door, the same way he always used to, and goes to sit on the bed. They’re still the same dark blue flannel sheets.He can feel Archie – big but not imposing – hovering in the doorway. Anyone else with the light behind them like that would be intimidating, but it’s Archie. The letterman jacket makes him look larger than he is. Douchier, too.“That jacket makes you look like a douche,” Jughead says, partly from nerves, and partly because he’s an asshole. Archie snorts.“All of your jackets make you look like a douche, dude,” he says. “You look like the guy from The Breakfast Club.”“John Bender,” Jughead says, beleaguered, “John Bender, Archie. Jesus. And no, I don’t. I’m cultivating my own style.”“You look like John Bender. All you need is some fingerless gloves.”Jughead huffs, mock angry. “You didn’t even know who John Bender was until ten seconds ago.”“Yeah,” Archie grins. He comes to sit on the other end of the bed. “He’s the guy from The Breakfast Club.”“You’re impossible, Arch.” He shakes his head. “Completely impossible,” he says, but he’s smiling like an idiot. So is Archie.He wants desperately to be kissed again – to kiss Archie again. He’s clutching at the edge of the mattress and curling in on himself. The same potentiation he’d felt in the car earlier, when he and Archie’s eyes met in the mirrored glass, is coiling between them.“Hey,” Archie says, still smiling, but softer now.“Hey,” Jughead whispers. The space between them on the bed – Jughead at the pillows and Archie at the foot – is miles apart.Archie seems to think the same thing, because he comes and crawls up the bed. He flops down with his head on the pillow, right next to where Jughead’s sitting. Jughead has the sudden, wild, thought that Archie is caged between him and the wall. That Archie is letting himself be caged.“Jughead,” Archie says, “Come lay down with me.”He fakes a swoon. “Archie, that’s so romantic. You know, I really think you were born to be a poet.”“Shut up,” Archie laughs, “Come lay down.” He hooks one hand in the crook of Jughead’s elbow, and even through a denim jacket, a flannel, and a shirt, he can feel the phantom heat it gives off. The weight is barely noticable, and yet it feels like a gravitational pull. He’s circling Archie, getting pulled closer and closer in on each rotation.He doesn’t know how that feels more intimate than whatever they were doing in the car earlier. But it does. He hesitates – tugging at the hem of his beanie where it’s pulled over his ears. He wants to take it off. He also doesn’t want Archie to see the hearing aid. It shouldn’t matter. He’s sure it doesn’t matter to Archie. But it does – it matters to Jughead.He whips it off and hangs it on the bedpost before he can overthink – well, over-overthink. Archie knows it’s there. Archie doesn’t care. He knows Archie doesn’t care, laying there with his big, easy smile.Jughead lies down. Archie’s bed isn’t really big enough for both of them anymore, so he ends up soaking up the entirely of Archie’s body heat, basking in it.“I should take my boots off,” he blurts, immediately feeling like an idiot.“Oh yeah,” Archie says, and then they both lean down together to take their shoes off. Jughead can’t help it. He huffs out a laugh, watching he and Archie’s fingers both scrabbling at their laces. “What?” Archie says, breaking out the big puppy-dog eyes.“This is just like us,” Jughead snickers, “Remember when we were kids and we both tracked mud all through your house, and then your dad came in and told us to take our shoes off before he took us outside and hosed us down?”“Yeah,” Archie says, “I really thought he might do it, too.”“I just-,” Jughead starts. His voice falters. He can feel Archie looking at him. His hands pause on his laces, fingers slipping on the strings. “I think – I think we were in the exact same position.”“I think you’re right,” Archie says. Their shoulders are pressed together. Jughead looks at him, and for a moment, sees himself reflected in Archie’s eyes. He looks…pulled together, like a battered ragdoll.“Archie,” Jughead says, “Are we making a mistake?”Archie opens his mouth, like he wants to say something and cannot find it. He looks plaintive, searching. He looks like Jughead is gonna fuck this up – ruin it, destroy their friendship, all for his unnecessary wants and desires.He hangs his head.“I think we’ve already made too many mistakes,” Archie says, “So what’s one more?” That, unsurprisingly, does not exactly make Jughead feel any better. In fact, it terrifies him. Archie has never purposefully used anyone, but what if he wakes up tomorrow and realises that he’s in love with Veronica, or Betty, or Valerie. Or, at the very least, more in love with them than he is with Jughead. And that would be it. Over. Archie would feel so bad, but it wouldn’t change a thing.And then he says, “This doesn’t feel like a mistake. It feels…like it was always going to happen.”“Inevitability,” Jughead breathes.“Jughead,” Archie says. He reaches between them and curls his fingers around Jughead’s thinner, ink-stained ones. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Jughead looks at them, hopelessly intertwined, and then at Archie. There’s a horrible weight in his chest. He has to get it out.“Archie,” he says, “I’m in love with you.”Archie grins. “You dumbass,” he says, “I’ve been in love with you since I was twelve.”“Oh,” Jughead says, and hopes that conveys everything choking the air between them. It’s not everything he wants (he wants too much), but it’s enough to make the ball of anxiety in his stomach slacken and dissipate. Archie leans in and kisses his cheek again, like he did outside an eternity ago. It still makes Jughead squirm. He squeezes Archie’s hand in poorly repressed desperation before turning back, away from Archie, to his shoes.Jughead finishes unlacing first, mostly because they were never properly tied in the first place. He scoots up the bed, dropping down and bouncing a little once his head hits the pillow. It’s still bizarre to him, and a little overwhelming – the visions of his carbon-copy doing the same thing. Flopping back on Archie’s bed is something he’s done an unquantifiable amount of times.He puts his hands behind his head and debates removing his shirt, looking at the broadness of Archie’s shoulder’s – his tapered waist, his undeniable masculinity.Archie keeps glancing back at him over his shoulder – he’s tied his laces too tight and can’t unpick them, like always. Jughead loves him. He thinks of Kevin, who had once punched a boy that hounded Jughead, mashing him up against the lockers with fists until he’d felt like tenderised meat but with more blood congealing, dripping, wetting the collar of his shirt. ‘Queer’, the boy had said, and Kevin had appeared and pulled him off in a manifestation of silent fury – mouth a thin line and eyes barely concealing his own agony. They’d had each other then, an unspoken bond present in the locker room before gym class, where they were both avoided, not looked at, not spoken to, until the next boy wanted to carve their aggression onto a person. They’re jealous, Kevin had once spat with Jughead’s shirt stemming the flow of blood from his nose. Of what? Jughead had laughed, because who would be jealous of a nobody? Kevin had smiled – teeth dyed red, and tipped them together, his head on Jughead’s bare shoulder and Jughead’s cheek in Kevin’s hair, and they had just sat against the lockers, feeling empty and unqualified to deal with school eternal.Kevin had known what was there all along.Jughead Jones likes boys. Specifically, he likes Archie, and he’s shocked by how much he wants to touch him. He’s been holding back without realising he’s been holding back, not wanting to be touched, rarely touching. He doesn’t have to do that anymore.Archie looks over at him again, a smile dancing at the corners of his mouth. “What are you looking at?” he smirks – typically sardonic.“You,” Archie says. Jughead shivers.“But,” Archie continues, turning back to shake his shoe off, “I meant it. We don’t have to do anything, Jug.”“You done it with a boy before?” Jughead asks, diverting. He props himself up on his elbows. Archie’s gaze skitters from his face down to his groin and then back up. The tension between them is palpable, and Jughead feels naked. He wants to spread his legs, to give Archie a better look.“No,” Archie murmurs, “It’s my first time.” That’s hot. Jughead doesn’t really get it, but that – the way Archie looks at him – makes his palms itch and his dick swell in his jeans. This time he really does tip his legs open.Archie’s other shoe clatters to the floor.“But you’ve done it with a girl before, right?” He scoots across the bed a little, just enough to allow Archie to lie down beside him. Archie takes his hand again – stroking his thumb over his knuckles in a slow, repetitive pass. He looks so earnest, and pure, and Jughead still feels the hovering shadow of his own corrupting influence. It’s dimmer now. How could it not be, so close to Archie, who burns so bright?“Yeah,” Archie says softly, “Not all the way though, just stuff.”“Okay,” Jughead says, and then, “Hey, like – I’m not, y’know-““Jughead, what?” Archie says, rolling up onto his side to hover over him. Jughead huffs and looks away, staring up at the band posters pasted onto the ceiling.“You’re good with this, right? I mean, you keep asking me, and I-” He trails off, shrugging awkwardly.Archie laughs, not cruelly, just incredulously. “Jughead, yes. Of course I am.” He puts his other hand in Jughead’s hair, tousling. “Are you feeling okay?”“Just peachy,” he says, saccharine. Archie’s hand slides around the back of his head, still petting and making him want to purr.“You don’t even like peaches,” Archie smiles, right as Jughead squawks, and then he kisses him.It’s slower than their other frantic kisses in the car. Archie leans in over Jughead and presses their clasped hands to Jughead’s chest. Over his heart, he thinks, and smiles into it.Archie pulls back, just enough to look in his eyes. Jughead scoffs. “You’re a sap, Arch,” he says, even as Archie pushes his hair out of his eyes. Both hands cupping his face, thumbs sweeping under his sleep-bruised eyes.“Yeah,” Archie hums, “But I think you’re a sap too.”“This is cruel and unusual punishment. They probably let you talk to prisoners of war until they agree to join the Viet Cong,” Jughead says, forcing it up and out, babbling, trying to cover himself up. He pulls Archie in again.“Mm,” Archie protests, but he evidently doesn’t mind too much, because he grabs the back of Jughead’s neck and his waist – big, big hands, Jughead thinks – feeling the heat of Archie’s palm on his side, nearly reaching the centre of his back.He’s solid. He’s so solid over Jughead – all shoulders and muscle. He can’t stop clutching. Both arms wrapped tight around Archie’s back and forcing them together, grip stretching out his shirt.Archie sucks on his tongue in these hot little pulses that Jughead really likes. He likes it so much that he drives his groin into Archie’s thigh, and the sweet pressure of it makes him whine.“Jughead,” Archie moans, sounding utterly shocked, and then he rolls on top, covering Jughead with his body.“Oh,” he says, wondering wildly at the fit of Archie’s thigh – pressing to his groin and forcing his legs wide open. And then they’re rocking together, Archie’s mouth hot and pressed to his cheek, his jaw, his neck. Sliding lower. Licking at his throat, tipping him back, back, back, and prying his body open at the seams.“I wanna touch you,” Archie gasps.“Archie,” he breathes, eyes rolling back, barely pinned together, “What do you think you’re doing right now?”Archie just moans again. His hot breath fans out over the cooling spit on Jughead’s neck, making it feel more – present. The reality of what they’re doing drying over his throat.Then, Archie rolls him onto his side.“What, Arch-“ he starts. He’s shocked at how gravelly his own voice is.“I wanna touch you,” Archie says again, as though that explains why his hands have left Jughead’s hips. He can feel his own body like he never has before in the gaps between Archie touching it and the potentiality for Archie to start touching it again. Shaking, flushed and shuddering, hair stuck to his mouth. He feels…incandescent. Destructed.“Then touch me,” he says. “It’s not that hard.” And it’s not. The floodgates have been opened. He's renewed. He feels Archie press along his back, bite into the back of his neck, nuzzle into his hair. Archie’s big, broad hands come up under his armpits to splay out over his chest, pinky-fingers resting just below his nipples. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more aware of them in his life. He wants Archie to drag those fingers that infinitesimal amount upwards and push on them.Instead, Archie pushes him away and strips his shirt off. Near frantically, Jughead sits up and does the same. Jacket and plaid shirt off as one piece, leaves the white tank on because Archie looks too fucking good, and Jughead isn’t insecure exactly, but still. Archie puts one hand on his shoulder and pushes him down into the same position, crowding behind him. One hand comes up under his armpit again to cradle his jaw – so, so delicately. He can’t take it anymore.He takes Archie’s hand and drags it down, away from his face, over his neck, down to his collarbone before Archie groans, “Oh, Jughead,” into his ear and gets the picture. There’s nothing he can do except push his head down into the pillow and grip at Archie’s forearm. He’s lying still, side on, exposing himself for Archie to play with, and it’s getting him so hot he can barely breathe.Archie bites his ear and starts hiking his shirt up – sliding his palm flat against Jughead’s abdomen, so fucking slowly. It looks obscene. It bunches up under his arms, leaving him feeling more exposed than if he’d taken it off completely. “Archie,” he breathes, relishing the weight of Archie’s roughened hand on his sternum, fingers following the curve of his collarbone.“Mmm?” Archie hums. Jughead can only tip his head back further, accentuating the curve of his body – neck towards Archie’s mouth and chest pressing into his hands. He feels like a doll made specifically for Archie. Made for this purpose.“You’ve made me so hard,” he says, truthfully, voice breaking on a moan when Archie licks him from clavicle to jaw in one, long, slow drag.Archie gasps – undulates along his back, and for one moment he can feel the hot, thick line of Archie’s dick pressed into the back of his thigh. “Oh God, Jughead,” he rumbles, and then his hand is sliding down to cup him through the denim. Jughead sucks in a sharp breath, already panting, and his hips go back and his knees come up, like he’s trying to trap Archie’s hand there. Archie’s just feeling him – tracing the shape and squeezing lightly and it’s the best thing he’s ever felt. Both of them are looking down, watching Archie’s palm spread out over Jughead’s crotch and the way Jughead is still gripping his forearm, grip gone white-knuckled.“Don’t stop,” he rasps out, “Archie, don’t you dare fucking stop touching me.” And Archie bites him and squeezes and grinds his palm down, varying the intensity until Jughead feels like his whole perception is narrowing down to that point between his legs.“Jesus Christ,” Archie pants, squeezing him particularly viciously and forcing a high, reedy moan out of him, “Jughead, you’re so fucking hot.”“Liar,” Jughead breathes, knowing his face has gone all pinched and crinkled, “We both know you’re the hot one.”“No, you are,” Archie insists. His hand moves off Jughead’s dick. Even the loss makes him squirm – like he’s just realised how tight his jeans are without the concurrent pressure of Archie’s hand. “I love how small you are.”“You really know what to say to a guy,” Jughead laughs, somewhat at odds to the thrum coursing through his whole body. “We’re the same height, Archie,” he says, “Or thereabouts, anyway.”“Mm,” Archie says, “Maybe if you wore heels.” And Jughead laughs, rolls into him, and kisses his grinning mouth.“Are you into that?” he snipes, unable to stop himself even like this. “Boys in heels, Archie. You like that?” There’s a familiar hot tight pressure low in his stomach, and he realises with a jolt how close he’s gotten. Archie nearly made him come. He shudders.“God, Jughead, shut up,” Archie groans. He puts both hands in Jughead’s hair and hauls him in, mouth already open. It’s wet and messy, and everything he never dared to dream of. Resultantly, Jughead doesn’t exactly think he can be blamed for losing his fucking mind and saying, “I want you to keep me here for hours,” while Archie’s sucking on his jaw, rapidly followed by, “Do whatever you want to me,” which sounds a little needy but makes Archie go nuts.Archie puts a hand between his legs again, but this time he just rubs his palm back and forth, back and forth. Jughead’s thighs snap closed on that pressure, arching to increase it. Bizarrely, he realises this is what Archie would do to a girl – play with their pussy, get them wet – and his whole body seizes.He nearly comes. He was so close. But Archie bites him a little too hard – the wrong side of pain – and it’s just enough for him to not quite make it.“Did you just-“ Archie breathes. He lifts himself up over Jughead to look, stroking the sweaty hair away from his face. All the times Jughead imagined – fleetingly, in rare, allowed moments – he never thought sex would be like this. He’s always visualised a dark room, someone faceless, the degrading act itself, but never the spaces between and afterwards. Instead, he has Archie.“No,” Jughead says, “Not yet.” He leans into Archie’s hand, looking into his’s brown-gone-black eyes and the want there. He’s bright red, clashing awfully with his ginger hair, and his mouth…His mouth, Jughead thinks, awed.“I want you to come,” Archie says, and then he dives over Jughead to open the bedside table and grab the lube. As though that isn’t an impossible thing to say to someone while they’re half-naked and turned on. As though that isn’t an impossible thing to say to someone when you’re pressed together, and the long, golden stretch of your torso is right in front of their face.Jughead skims his hands up Archie’s flanks, before settling them low on his hips. His thumbs rub and dip into the crease just below Archie’s jeans. It makes Archie squirm in his lap and glance back at him, even as his hips are pushing into Jughead’s hands.He tries not to think about it too hard, and slides one hand to cup the bulge in Archie’s jeans. The effects are electric. Archie’s eyes snap closed and he pushes into Jughead’s palm, and Jughead – to hide his face or reactions or just because he’s overwhelmed – presses his face to Archie’s broad, heaving chest. Which turns into kissing, and then to licking, and biting, until Archie is caught between his hands and mouth, rocking between them.“Jug,” Archie moans. He slides one hand into Jughead’s sweaty hair, tugging gently even as Jughead laps at his nipple until it peaks. He nips at it experimentally and Archie pulls his hair, tipping his head back. His dick pulses under Jughead’s palm.It’s big, Jughead blindly thinks, squeezing tightly. Archie’s hips judder – momentarily pressing back onto Jughead’s dick. He makes a startled, deep noise and thrusts up, nearly overbalancing Archie and dumping him on the floor.“Whoa, cowboy,” Archie pants, grinning. He’s still going for his boy-next-door routine, even with Jughead’s thumb pushing on the head of his dick and flushed all down to his chest.“Jake Gyllenhaal or Heath Ledger?” he quips. Archie smacks his shoulder with the bottle of lube and they both laugh – Jughead butting his forehead against Archie’s chest and slinging both arms around his hips.“Personally,” Archie says, “I don’t know enough about movies to answer that.”“Ugh,” Jughead groans, “Neanderthal. You’ve been hit on the head too many times in football practice.”Archie laughs again, bright and with abandon, like it’s taking up the whole room. Jughead looks up at him. Bathed in the warm glow of his battered table lamp, he looks beautiful. He always looks beautiful – under the unflattering white of the class light, out in the sun, under the neon red in Pop’s. He can feel himself beaming, and he keeps beaming when Archie bumps their noses together and tips his head until their mouths meet.“Okay,” Archie says, climbing off him, “Stand up for a second.”Jughead absolutely does not want to get up or move away from Archie, but he does. Standing beside the bed while Archie props the pillows up against the headboard feels a little ridiculous with his tank rucked up under his armpits, so he strips it off. When he emerges, Archie is staring at him, eyes raking up and down his chest. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so he flings one up behind his head and puts the other on his hip – imitating one of the girls that Archie has tacked up beside his bed. Deliberately posing makes him feel more at home, like he and Archie are just horsing around. If horsing around was synonymous with getting naked and touching each other all over.Strangely, or maybe not strangely at all, it makes him feel better when Archie laughs at him. “Come here,” he says, shaking his head and giggling, tugging Jughead’s hand away from his hip.Using his grip on Jughead’s forearm, he guides him down until Jughead is sitting between his thighs, back to Archie’s chest. Archie’s arms circle his torso, superheated on his bare skin. It’s reminiscent of the car, earlier. An eternity ago. “Archie,” he breathes.“I know,” Archie answers. He flattens a reassuring palm to Jughead’s sternum. It’s grounding, and Jughead lets his head flop back against Archie’s shoulder – seeking the warmth he gives off.“Dude, you’re like a space heater,” he says, words stuttering when Archie kisses him, very gently, all the while stroking his chest. Up and down, until his hand skims under Jughead’s navel and he shivers. “C’mon, Arch.”Archie says, “Okay,” a little shakily. His dick is pushed up tight against Jughead’s ass – he can feel it – hot, hard pressure soaking through his jeans. He wants to touch it again. He wants to see it.He squirms back against Archie, both hands clenching tight on his’s thighs, craning his neck to kiss at his throat. Archie makes a shocky noise and jerks his hips forward. Jughead freezes. And then he does the same move again, but very slowly, in a deliberate grind.Archie’s hands grip his hips and literally pin him in place. “No,” he rasps.Jughead feels his dick jump in his jeans. “Oh, Archie,” he says, only a little sarcastically, because, wow, hot, “You brute, be gentle wi-“ Archie clamps a hand over his mouth.“Jug,” Archie says, “Shut up?” Jughead narrows his eyes and licks at Archie’s palm. And promptly gets very distracted when Archie starts undoing his jeans.He tries to say ‘Archie’, but it comes out as “Mm-mmr?” because Archie’s still got his hand over Jughead’s mouth. He can’t even breathe – he’s having to inhale and exhale through his nose. He can’t fucking move or squirm away, which, absurdly, is making him dizzier.Archie hand tenses over his face, unintentionally bending his head back against his shoulder, and he simultaneously slips his hand into Jughead’s boxers and squeezes the base of his dick. ‘Oh, God,’ he moans, which just sounds like obscene noise through Archie’s hand.“Jesus, Jughead,” Archie gasps, squeezing and pulling and running his thumb in circles around the head of his dick, “You want this so bad, huh? You’re so wet.”“Oh, God,” Jughead tries to moan, again. Everything Archie does is driving him higher – increasing the electric feeling pooling at the base of his spine. With his head pressed to Archie’s shoulder he can’t see anything other than Archie’s face and the intensity and focus there. Archie’s brow is creased, his mouth open, and he’s staring at where his hand is working. It’s too much suddenly – not being able to see what Archie is doing to him, his exposed throat, nearly suffocating under his broad palm.He bats at Archie’s wrist, once, twice, feeling a sharp spike of adrenaline when Archie doesn’t let up. “Mm-mmr?” he tries, before grabbing Archie’s wrist and tugging. Archie, oblivious, does let go, but he doesn’t even look at Jughead – well, not his at his face, anyway.“Oh, God,” Jughead heaves, “Oh, God, Oh, God.” Trying to catch his breath is pointless because every twist of Archie’s wrist drives it right back out of him. “Oh, God, Archie,” he says, looking down at where Archie is squeezing and immediately feeling like he’s gonna lose it. His dick is all pink and red against Archie’s big, pale hand.“You’re so hot,” Archie says, dazedly, and presses his thumb on the sensitive strip of skin under the head. Jughead sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and clutches at Archie’s thighs, trying not to thrust up and failing. His balls are pulled up so tight, heavy against his skin. He’s gonna lose it any second.“Archie – Arch,” he pants, fixing on the brutal way Archie is stroking him – fast, twisting on the upstroke – watching the head wink in and out of Archie’s fist. It’s so slick and wet and Archie’s grip is on the perfect side of too tight. It only gets better when Archie’s other arm comes down across his hips, holding him in place. “Oh,” he chokes out, feeling surrounded and caged in by Archie, held and pinned down and turned inside out. He throws his face into the crook of Archie’s neck, mouth open, gasping against his throat, and then he comes all over his own stomach and Archie’s hand.“Jughead,” Archie breathes. He puts his clean hand in Jughead’s hair and hauls him in – plants a messy, open-mouthed kiss on his cheek. He’s still jacking him as if he’ll come again, immediately, like a girl in porn. Over and over again. He feels like he could, biology be damned.Archie keeps kissing him, on the cheek, mouth, eyelids, petting his hair – cradling him. His body is coming back together in pieces. Jughead briefly envisions the plasma ball Archie had propped on his desk two years ago - lightening spiralling out to meet greasy fingers on the glass. That's how he feels now; body rippling out to reach at Archie's hands.It's getting unbearable. Archie's still licking at him; still moving his hand. “Hey,” he pants, eyes still squeezed shut, “You never heard of chafing?”Archie immediately whips his hand away, leaving him feeling cold and a little disgusting. “Sorry.”“All good,” Jughead murmurs, “Gimme a minute and I’ll do you.” It comes out off-hand, relaxed, but it’s anything but. He feels all curled up inside at the opportunity to touch Archie, to have him splayed out and making noise for him. He can still feel Archie’s dick pressing into him – hyperaware of it now that he has explicit permission to touch.“Alright,” Archie says. He’s nuzzling behind Jughead’s ear and combing his sweaty hair out of his face. It makes him smile. Even now, when Archie’s trying to subtly rub off against his ass, he’s being sweet.And then he ruins it by using Jughead’s happy trail as a towel.“Dude,” Jughead says, sitting up and crinkling his nose at the slick mess of his abdomen, “You couldn’t find a shirt?”“You use shirts? I’m never borrowing anything from you again,” Archie laughs.“I don’t! I’m just making reference to the two items of clothing that are nearest to us,” he gestures at Archie’s wadded up tee, stuffed between the bed and the wall. He grabs it and starts scrubbing himself down, looking at Archie pointedly. He tucks himself away, and then tosses the shirt on the floor for good measure.“Anyway,” Archie says, “That’s disgusting.” He pauses, contemplative in that usual silent way. Jughead looks at him, and he’s wearing that smile that he gets when he’s come up with a real idea – not good or bad, but somewhere in between. Jughead’s been a part of those plans too many times to not recognise when one’s brewing.“What?” He asks, smirking, “Just say whatever you’re thinking. I might have places to be later.”“Oh yeah?” Archie snorts, “Gonna go round to Kev’s after this?” Jughead socks him in the shoulder.“You gonna go round to Reggie’s?” he challenges. “Not funny, asshole.”“Hey, hey,” Archie says, putting his hands up, “I’m just kidding, you know I don’t mean that, Jug.”Jughead sighs. “I know. I still don’t like it.”“Okay,” Archie says, and then he grins. “But I know what you do like.” Jughead rolls his eyes, but lets Archie kiss him briefly.“Alright, what are you thinking,” Jughead says, pulling back, “I can feel you smiling.”Archie’s raises his eyebrows and just blatantly comes out with, “Next time, we can save on the shirts and just lick it off each other.”“Now who’s disgusting,” Jughead says.“Still you.”“Is this your tactic?” Jughead interrupts. “You get people in bed and start insulting them? Remind me again why you’ve never had a steady girlfriend?”“Mmm,” Archie says, putting on a big show of thinking really hard. “You might be on to something. Or, y’know, it could be because I’m in love with you.”“It’s like you’re some kind of genius,” he deadpans. Archie giggles and gently cuffs him around the ear, and then they’re both laughing.“Okay, okay,” he says, sitting up on his knees and turning to face Archie. “Still want a hand with that?”“Only if you’ve got a free one,” Archie quips.His eyes are still so dark. Now that the urgency has worn off, he’s really excited to do this, and do it right. His insides feel like they’re full of giant, rampaging butterflies, but there’s nothing – short of Fred Andrews bursting in here – would make him get off the bed. “Well, lucky for you, I’ve got a whole two,” he says, and presses Archie up against the headboard to kiss him.He doesn’t waste any time. He thinks he might want this even more than Archie, who’s gasping into his mouth and writhing a little already, just with Jughead’s thumbs tucked into his waistband.He pops the button of Archie’s jeans and then starts tugging them down. Archie lifts his hips to help him, and they both huff when his jeans get caught around his ankles before Jughead snarls, “Come on,” and throws them to the floor.Archie laughs at him, briefly, before Jughead gets his palm on Archie’s dick through his briefs and pushes the heel of his hand in – the same way he does to himself when he’s too desperate to drag it out. “Haa,” Archie whines, like it’s hurting him, even as his hips pump up thoughtlessly.He doesn’t know where to look. Archie’s eyes are screwed shut and his mouth is parted – still slick and wet and used, and his chest is heaving. He’s got a bruise forming next to his right nipple where Jughead must’ve sucked too hard. He presses his thumb there, listening for Archie’s hissed intake of air, and then uses both hands to yank down his boxer briefs.“Oh – Archie,” he says, shocked and aroused. He fits his index finger over the head of his dick. It comes away tacky, pre- clinging to his fingertip in a shiny trail. He absently rubs his finger against his thumb, spreading it around. They’re both watching Jughead touch him – playing with the tip, running the backs of his fingers along the underside.He wraps his hand around the base and squeezes. “Jug,” Archie gasps, like it’s been forced up out of him.It’s weird and kind of awkward doing it in reverse. It gets easier once he tips the lube over his palm. He understands now why Archie wanted to be behind him, but this way – facing him, Jughead can see all his reactions. Archie seems to like it when he squeezes tighter on the upstroke, because it makes his hips chase Jughead’s fist and his eyes slam closed.Jughead wants to touch him more than he’s already doing – wants to be all over him, all the time. He kisses him, using his teeth to pull at Archie’s bitten-red lips. Still mouthing at him when Archie can’t reciprocate anymore – too busy trying to breathe.He’s watching the movement of his own hand, how the tight squeeze on Archie’s dick makes fluid trickle out of the slit and run down his knuckles. He’s salivating. It doesn’t make sense. He has a dick and he knows that nothing they produce tastes good – all the times he’s licked it off his hands, fantasising, it’s never been good. Well, the intent was always cripplingly, eye-rollingly hot. Still, Archie saying ‘just lick it off each other’ shakes through him like an echo chamber. He’s considering it, and trying to not think anything funny or vaguely prophetic about hotdogs or other phallic foodstuffs.Subversively, he puts his mouth to Archie’s chest again. Then lower. And lower still. His heart is thundering in his ears. Archie’s hands curl into his hair. “You don’t have to – you don’t –“, he pants, near thrashing. And then he locks, entire body freezing up when Jughead flattens his tongue and drags it over the tip.He was right. It doesn’t taste great. And still, regardless, he’s getting hard again. It’s hopelessly hot, even just lapping at the weeping head of Archie’s dick. Archie isn’t even forming words anymore. He makes a horrible broken noise and Jughead has to grind his palm into his own groin because – Christ – Archie’s about to come.Jughead doesn’t think at all. He wants to see Archie’s face – see him fucking lose it. He moves his lips away and looks up, watching Archie's mouth fall open. And then, hunched like that, bent over, near forgetting how space and men and gravity work; the divine intervene. Archie comes all over his face.The bottom of Jughead’s stomach drops out. He can feel it running in sticky rivulets down his cheeks – his neck. They’re locked together, both gasping, staring at each other like they cannot believe it. Like neither of them have the brains to truly conceptualise what just happened. He’s half-hard. He squeezes himself and can’t hold back the helpless whimper it produces. “Jughead,” Archie gasps.“Huh?” Jughead says. He’s a little bewildered. There’s come running into his eye."Based on the evidence," Archie says, sly grin creeping onto his face, “I think you’re the Jake Gyllenhaal.”“Y’know what, Andrews?” he says, swiping at the mess on his face. “Shut up.”=“Kevin,” Jughead says, leant over the picnic table, naturally furtive in the light of day with other listeners milling around.“Mmm?” Kevin says, not looking up from his algebra homework.“Kevin,” he hisses.“What, Jug,” Kevin sighs, “I need to do this before fifth period.”Jughead leans in closer, chest lowered to the table top in some attempt at faux-privacy when Veronica could saunter in at any time. Kevin still hasn’t looked up, but his eyebrows are raised expectantly. Probably waiting for one of Jughead’s new theories about the sociology of the student population. “Kevin,” Jughead says, “I’m gay.”“Congratulations,” Kevin says, “I need to get this done by fifth period.” Jughead huffs, sitting back heavily. But Kevin - Kevin tangles their calves and feet together under the table, smiling a little at his own chicken-scratch handwriting. Jughead tips his head back, looking at the sun filtering through the green, green, leaves of the oak through misty eyes. I’m gay, he mouths, and feels the world shift underneath him.=The next night, Jughead scrambles up to Archie’s window, heart thudding in his chest at Archie’s big, sanctifying smile through the glass.“Hey, Juliet,” he says, and grins when Archie kisses him.
10745436	Keep speaking darling	{ "Archive Warning": "No Archive Warnings Apply", "Category": "M/M", "Characters": "Niall Horan, Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, Liam Payne, Zayn Malik, Maura Gallagher, Bobby Horan, Greg Horan, Anne Cox, Robin Twist, Gemma Styles", "Fandom": "One Direction (Band)", "Language": "English", "Rating": "Not Rated", "author": "by Niall_Princess_Horan", "chapters": "8/8", "completed": "2017-05-01", "published": "2017-04-27T00:00:00", "words": "4,926", "Additional Tags": "Niall-centric, Harry-centric, Narry - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Married niall and harry., lilo, Niam - Freeform, Nouis, ziall, Narry fanfic, zarry - Freeform, ziam, zouis, larry - Freeform, Niall marries harry, Harry is mean, only a bit, Sad Niall, Hurt Niall, Bagpacker niall", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Niall Horan/Harry Styles, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Harry Styles, Niall Horan/Liam Payne, Niall Horan/Louis Tomlinson", "Series": null, "Collections": null, "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	Harry pov"I'm telling you, she's on my case again" I whine before finishing my pint."It's a mum thing" liam mutters, having a mouthful of his pint."It's an irritating thing" I argue."Why do you have t be married again?" Louis slurs."Because I'm nearly 21 and if I'm not married before then, studies show I could develop diabetes or high colestral. Resulting in a shorter life span and a poorer quality of life" I recite in the most 'mum voice' I can manage whilst being slightly intoxicated."She ease off" liam tries.She doesn't. It's three days later when I'm on the phone to her about having pasta for my tea, that she drops the bomb."Pasta is not sufficient harry.""It's better than nothing so leave it" I snap."Anyway I've arranged a date and venue for you darling""For what" I sigh."Your wedding. It's the 17th of Aug-""My wedding? I'm not getting marri-""Of course you are. To Taylor""I can't marry her" I scoff."Why not harry, give me one good reason why not"Because I don't want to. I don't like her. She's rude. She's evil. She broke my heart. She slept with Josh whilst we were together -"Because I'm already engaged" I blurt out. Smooth harry. Really smooth."I want to meet them." Of course you do. "Bring them over for dinner tomorrow night. Tea will be done for 7. And I better be invited to the wedding." That's all she says before hanging up.Shit.Double shit.Double shit with chocolate sauce.I dive for my phone, that I threw on the floor at some point, and call louis. "You told her what?" He cackles."Louis I need your help. Stop laughing at me"I whine."Only you harry." He laughs "hey liam you'll never guess what harrys done" the phone goes quiet for a minute before I hear two lots of cackling."Guys! Help me!" I whine."We'll come round" liam says through the phone.I hang up and collapse on the sofa. "So we need to find someone who will marry you?""Essentially""It cant be me, your mum hates me since the whole 'dying Taylor hair green' thing" Louis sighs."Can't be zayn, she doesn't like his bad boy attitude" Zayn smirks."Liam?""She's met liam, she won't believe he'd want to marry me. He's too nice""Hey!" Liam protests."We love you Lima bean now shush" Louis says."Niall?" Liam whispers."Who's that?""My cousin, he went bagpacking around, well, everywhere. He's back now, coming to crash with me later today. He's single.""And you think he'll agree to marry me to get my mum off my case?' I ask slowly, I'm not buying it. He rather won't do it, or if he does he's got a screw loose. No one would marry a stranger."No one would marry a stranger""If it was to help someone, Niall would" Louis voices ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Harry povI'm say nervously waiting for niall to arrive at liams. I feel bad for the kid, he's literally getting ambushed as he gets through the door after a 14 hour flight."Fuck li I'm so tired" an Irish accented voice sounds from the hallway. We hear him drop a bag before kicking off his shoes as liam goes to greet him."How was the flight""Long. Never again" he whines"Tommo and Zee are hear. Also my friend Harry""Wa-ha-hy?" He moans"To see me. And you. We need a favour."They come in the kitchen a moment later. Niall is shorter than I pictured. He has fluffy fake blonde hair that's stuck up all over the place. The sleepiest face I have ever seen and such a tiny frame. He is also wearing one shoe, I'm guessing he couldn't get it off and was too tired to keep trying."Niall this is harry. Harry this is niall" liam introduces us."iya" he mumbles rubbing one eye with his fist."Hey niall""So, long story short. We need you to marry harry" Louis says."M'kay" niall nods sleepily, he looks like he's going to fall asleep standing."Li maybe we should talk to him after he's slept" I suggest."He's meeting your mum tomorrow. If he agrees and if he doesn't we need to find someone else." Louis sasses."Okay okay. Niall can you wake up please?""M up. Where 'm I goin""Here, drink this" Zayn says, guiding him to a chair and putting a coffee in front of him.10 minutes later he's wide awake."I'm doing what?" He laughs."I need you to marry me. My mum is on my case about not being married, I'm 21 next month and apparently that means, if I'm not married before then, I'm getting diabetes and dying early. Look. She's weird. She's trying to make me marry my ex Taylor-""-who broke his heart. She slept with Josh. You know from Footy-?" Louis buts in"-No way! He's straight? Since when?""Since Taylor apparently-""-guys!" I snap."She's arranged a date and venue for me to marry Taylor and I told her I was already engaged to get her to shut up and- She invited herself to the wedding. And wants to meet my fiancée tomorrow for tea" I end lamely."I'm not agreeing to anything.... but if I were to say yes... what are the conditions?""You have to marry me. In front of everyone and we'd have to live together for say a year before we can divorce. Then I can claim you broke my heart and put me off marriage for life" I smile."Why do I break your heart? What about mine?""I'll lend you the super glue to mend it" I laugh, he laughs too."I don't know. I wanted to travel more and, get a job and stuff...""I'll pay you! Name your price""I'm not a prostitute" he snaps."I'll pay you to marry me, we don't have to have sex, just pretend to be married. Cute cupple selfies, food shopping, dates and shit. Im taking a year of your life, Name a price"In my head I'm thinking £20k. I'd happily pau that to get rid of Taylor. My house is already bought off by my parents so I only have to pay for food and my car insurance/ petrol. Plus I have over a £100k In savings, comes from being a solicitor."Okay. 5 grand" he mutters after few minutes."5k" I pull a face, is that it?"Well-you- you said to name a price and I did. And- I -I dont have a job yet-so-so it will help an- and-""-calm down, I was thinking more like 20k""I'm not taking any more than 5" stutters, eyes bulging."I'm not giving you any less than 10" I say defiantly."O-Okay. 10 it is" he mumbles."Right, let's work on the details of your love life" Louis laughs, clapping his hands together loudly. "Harry! Come on in darling" my mum smiles as she invites me and niall in, we're holding hands for effect. His palms are a bit sweaty, but so are mine so I don't complain."Hi mum, this is niall, my fiancée. Babe, this is my mum Anne , that's my dad Robin, and my sister gemma""Hi, it's great to meet you all" he smiles and waves."I hope you're all hungry" Anne laughs, so do I, I know my mum, she's a feeder.We head to the table and help ourselves to the mountain of food in the middle. It's curry with all the sides."Haz can you chuck me a few samosas please""Course baby" I smile and hold out the dish for him to grab a few. His face flushes and it's the best sight I've seen in a long time."So when did you meet, where, how long have you been together. Oh what's niall like in bed-""Gemma!" I snap, glaring at her."It's fine hazza" niall laughs. "We met through liam, he's me cousin so naturally we got talking and we just- dunno- clicked. We started dating around July last year, July 21st if im not mistaken, that was the day you finally asked me to go on a date with you. Hahaha. Erm and he proposed on new year, I think I want to marry you as soon as though. Steal you before someone else does" niall smiles, looping his hand through mine and smiling at me with a fond look on his face. For a moment, I forget he's acting."So will I be getting an invite to this wedding?" Mum asks exited. "Of course, you all will" niall beams. Once the dinner is done, we head to mine. Niall brought his stuff round earlier so he's all set up."You're a good actor" I laugh."Tanks, at least you know your gettin your money's worth" he giggles. I gave him the ten grand earlier. He's got it cash somewhere as he doesn't have a bank account."So, wedding planning tomorrow?""Sure" he smiles "but first, we should change our Facebook status to engaged, with some shit about not wanting to rush things by others getting involved so we kept it quiet. Take a few couple pics?" He suggests. "Don't you need to tell your family?""Nah, they don't like having a gay son. So they only acknowledge me brudder greg""Shit, niall I'm sorry""Why? I don't care. Took me self travelling. Packed my life in me bagpack and left. Have been around the world for the past 2 years. Haven't been back since""Fuck" I mutter"Pics?" He smiles shyly at me. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Harry pov"Okay, what about theses shoes?" Niall whines, we're getting outlr suits and outfits and I can't find the shoes to match."Niall I'm going to a wedding, not a funeral" I sigh as I look at the shoes he's picked up."Sorry, ill just shut up then" he mutters."No, I'm sorry. I know you're trying to help. Come on, help me find the ones you suggested and ill get us an ice cream" I smile and he smiles back shyly.Okay so that's the:Suits/shoesCakeVenueIntivesCarFoodAnd hair stylist sortedI'm ticking everything off as niall plays golf on the Wii."I think we've got everything ni""Cool, what we doing for tea" he laughs as he pots the ball."Dunno we need to go shopping" I groan."Come on then" he smiles and holds his hands out to get me off the couch.We're going around sainsburys and it's so easy being with niall."I might have to a-salt you" he laughs, putting the salt in the trolley."Let me take you in to custard-y" I laugh at that one. Once finished (after bumping in to mums neighbour breda and talking for 4 days) we head home.So I know we'be just been shopping for food but do you want a pizza. Can't be arsed cooking" I laugh."I'll cook" he offers"You can cook!?""Yeah. Lazagne okay?""Yeah great. Do you need me to do anything?""Nah you're good" he smiles"I'm gona get a shower then" "Kay"Once out of the shower I can smell the Lazagne. It smells gorgeous. I throw on some boxers and a shirt and head down."Smells great""Tanks" he beams. "You f-forgot your p-pants" he mumbles, looking at the Lazagne and not me."I prefer being naked, don't mind do you?""Course not. Your house""And yours, soon to be husband" I laugh, niall laughs too. It's the day of the wedding, 3 weeks after actually meeting niall and I'm nervous."What we're doing is illegal" I panic as we're waiting to go out to the alter."What, marrying the man I love. What's illegal about that?"I'm confused for a minute then I see niall smile at someone. My mum."Boys you look so lovely" she gushes "I need a picture come on, stand together, smile harry"I took niall under my chin and put my arm around his tiny waist.The ceremony goes with out problems and I can now happily say, my mum is off my case. "Shall we go home niall?" I ask as he's slurring a bit."S-So pretty. I should marry you""You just did babe" I laugh as do a few people at the table."This is m-my boyfriend""Husband babe""Even better""Come on, let's go" In all honesty, I don't want niall to let slip why he married me. Then it would be all for nought."Niall, what do you want to sleep in""Your bed""I meant clothes wise""Naked n your bed"Thankfully we both got changed unto jeans and shirts after the wedding, unfortunately the jeans are skinny and niall is absolutely no help as a dead, very intoxicated, weightI get him down to his boxers and under shirt, before getting down to my boxers and collapsing next to him, in my bed. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Harry povI roll over, well try, only to be pulled back by a very warm body pressed into my side. Arms slung over my waist preventing me from going anywhere."M p'low""I'm not a pillow" I grunt"Mine" niall mumbles.I open my eyes properly and admire his face. He is very attractive, even more so when sleeping as his face is relaxed and nuteral.After 5 minutes of me staring niall opend his eyes."Wa?" He coughs."You're really pretty" I blurt out."Haha thanks hazza" he blinks sleepily and I can tell it didn't register what I just said."Toast and tea?" Ill bring it up."Sounds great" he smiles rolling off of me. After the tea and toast I head off to work as niall goes around town looking for a job. Work is boring. I'm a solicitor so I get some interesting clients. Like the one who slipped on the floor in his own kitchen and and wanted to sue his wife as she mopped the floor. Or the wife who came in 3 days later for a divorce.Or the one who was feet in a divorce and despite paying half towards everything, wasn't entitled to anything as her name wasn't on the contract. She cut everything in half. The sofa, the tv, the beds the lot. That was amusing.But today is boring.From: Niall <3Meet me 4 lunch?From: Hazza Green EyesSounds good, meet me outside wrkFrom: Niall <3There in 10 "Here" he says handing me a large coffee from Costa. "Thank you, you angel" I smile."How's your day going?" He asks"Boring, long. How's yours""Got a job in the music shop, it's 25 hours a week teaching guitar and drums to kids""You play guitar and drums?""Yeah and chelo but not that we'll haha""Wow, I've always wanted to learn guitar but I have not hand eye coordination""I'll teach you, I have a guitar at liams, take me to get it later and ill teach you""Thanks, i'd like that""Shit I gotta go, got a kid for drums in 10. See you later yeah?" Niall rushes before kissing my cheek and leaving. I realise that this is the only time (aside from the wedding) that either of us have kissed the other."What am i doing?" I groan as I head back. Realisation hits me like a chair to the face. I'm falling for niall. Too bad he doesn't feel the same. He only married me for the 10K ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Harry povSo I've been 'married' to niall for 3 months now and I'm having a melt down."Oh my God! What do you mean you're actually falling for him?" Louis shrieks. "I dunno, he's just lovely and the more I learn about him the more I like him""Tell him" he says plainly."What no. Don't be stupid.""Hey, ill have you know I'm actually very intelligent""Except when you're being stupid. Like now." I say pointedly."Look. Whats the worst that could happen?""He tells my mum the actual reason I married him. Or he laughs at me and walks away with the money and I never see him again" I sass. They could happen."Why don't you-""-hiya lads. Finished early. What are you two up to?" Niall says, coming in and flopping on the sofa."Nothing. Harry is in a predicament" louis says"What's up hazza?""Just- erm mulling over-things" I finish lamely."Like what? Any thing I can help with?""Our dearest harry has fallen for someone and is too much of a pansy to tell the lad" Louis says."Oh" niall says deflated "you-you should tell the guy. An-yuh know, he doesn't have to know we're married- i-it wasn't a legit marriage anyway. Listen, I'm gona get in the shower, leave you guys too it""Niall-""-ill see you later yeah?" Is all he says as he walks off."Did you see how gutted he was?" Louis smiles."Why are you happy that he's sad?""Because he was sad you're liking someone. He doesn't know it's him you like" After the talk with lous niall and I drift a lot, he's still insisting I come clean to the chap and be happy. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Harry povSo now niall and I have been married for just under ten months. We've gotten closer again but not how we first were. Niall is insistent I should have tried to make it work with the guy but I just change the subject when he brings it up.It's safe to say, niall is a good guitar teacher. I can play one song from start to finish! And no, it's not twinkle twinkle little star. I can also read music now. So I know what notes to play.Im no expert but im slightly better than a beginner. I think :/ "Niall, I'm off to the pub with the lads, coming with?" I ask as I head up to find my shoes."Sure" he replies meeting me at the bottom of the stairs.We have a few pints before heading home, some of us (liam) are responsible adults who remember we have work in the morning."Can I sleep-your bed hazza" niall slurs against my shoulder as I open the door."Sure" I mutter.He flops on the bed, kicking off one shoe before falling asleep. I throw off my jeans and shoes before laying next to him. He shuffles until his back is pressed to my chest and u feel an arm grab my wrist before pulling it over his waist. He locks his fingers through mine and cuddles my arm."Nigh azza""Night niall""This 's my arm now""I kinda need that one babe. My dominant hand" I chuckle."Can av my hand"Okay, that doesn't help my thoughts with his arse pressed against my crotch.He shuffles a little and pushes his arse out. I swear he's doing it on purpose. Despite the fact that he's asleep.I thrust my crotch forwards to get him to stop moving and it works. For a second anyway.I sigh and let sleep take over..."Whoo! One year we have made it together" niall laughs as we clink glasses."Couldn't have done it with out you" I joke"Obviously" he grins....We wait until one year and 3 months before I go stay with my mum because we're 'having problems and I dont wanna talk about it' I stay there a week, as planned before going back and eating pizza.It's a few days later I call my Gemma crying that I think niall is cheating on me. Niall, liam, Louis and Zayn laughing in the background.A week later niall posts on facebook that he's 'missing the freedom of travelling'. He gets a lot of shit from Gemma for that.Officially 15 months after being married we invite my mum, dad, Gemma and the lads over for lunch.Aka the finale."Ni that isn't cooked" I sigh as he goes to dish out the beef."Yes it is. It's medium-rare" he sasses."Well some people like it cooked more than that" I half snap."Well maybe them people should have told me before hand" he snaps back."I'll have it however" Gemma reasons."Cook it longer""You cook it longer." He snaps before walking off, I hear him get on his shoes as planned."Where are you going?" I sigh"Out. Clearly nothing I do is good enough and quite frankly I've had enough harry. If I'm not goox enough just say. Because the way you're treating me hurts".Okay wow. That hit a bit close to home. I can't tell if hes acting anymore."You are good enough, I only asked you to cook the beef longer" I sigh."You cook it longer. I'm off to the pub""Well that's not going to solve anything. You walking away to get wasted" I shout."Well maybe I like you better when I'm pissed" he yells."Fuck you!""You already have!""I can't believe you're going to the pub while we have friends over. What the hell is wrong with you. You're so selfish!""If I'm that horrible, divorce me!" He shouts."Fine I will" I snap.He storms out and I sigh.Louis comes out a minute later and I break down. I'm not even acting anymore. I feel aweful, despite the fact we planned the argument, I feel terrible for shouting at him. His face when I said I'd divorce him, the look of devistation, I don't think that will ever leave me."Harry- dear?""Yeah mum" I cry. I'm sat on the sofa with my head in my hands, Louis crouched on the floor rubbing my back."Don't cry harry. You can do better than that boy-""Don't mum. Just. Dont""I'm just saying. Now you're not tied to anyone. I could see if Taylor is-""How dare you. I'm heartbroken here and I'm still married. Yet your already trying to marry me off again." I snap."I just thought-""-No. No you didn't. That's the problem. I am not marrying Taylor. Not next week. Or next year. Or ever.""I don't want you to get depressed. You'll develop diabetes and high colestoral and-""-mum. Please just go. I wanna be on my own" I sigh as I storm off to my room.I hear everyone leave around 20 minutes later and louis comes up to see me. We have a little cuddle in bed."You weren't acting when you cried. Were you?"I laugh at the fact he knew that. I guess he's my best friend for a reason."Harry tell him-""I don't want to. He doesn't love me. He's just a gold digger with a wonky smile. He only ever watdd the money and now he has it he'll be gone-""-Great to know thas what you think of me. I might be a gold digger to you harry but you offered the money. I didn't marry you for the money. I married you to help out a friend. Well, I thought we were friends. You know the funny thing. I actually had feelings for you. I actually- I was in love with you. More fool me" he ends his speech before heading to his room. I hear a lot of moving around and fear the worst."What are you doing" I mumble as I see him pack."Packing. Wouldn't want you to live in fear that I'll rob you""Where will you go?""Dunno yet. Haven't been to Mexico yet. Maybe give that a try.""Mexico? That's ages away""Yup. See you harry" is all he says before walking out with his two bags that contain his entire life.I hear him moving in the kitchen before the front door goes.I head downstairs to see the pots and food put away by the family and a note on the side in an envelope. Harry.Sorry things didn't work out for you and the lad, maybe they can now? In terms of your mam, keep talking. Don't let her silence you. Or what you want. Keep talking darling and I promise you, one day, you will be heard.Also, the money is in the top draw in my old room. It's all there.Niall ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Harry pov"You'll not see him again then I'm guessing. With 10K in his pocket the world's his to roam. He'll do what he always does, work in every place he visits to rack up his fund-""-he didn't take the money louis" I mutter. I toss the envelope on his lap."It's all there?""Yup. He didn't take a penny""What's the plan then? How do you plan on finding him?""I don't-I don't have a plan. And im not even sure he wants to be found. I've fucked up louis""Yeah you have. But you can fix it""How? I don't even know which country he's in!?""Track his phone. Or find someone who can.""Zayn can" I mumble. Zayn is ace with technology."Now you're thinking"My eyes light up and I dive upstairs to call zayn. He can do this. He's done it s hundred times before. He is a wiz ar this type e of thing. He can totally help me out here."I can't do it""What? Why? Zayn!""His phone is off. The only way I can track it, is if he turns it back on""Fuck!" I shout."I've set up an automatic track, as soon as he turns it on, ill get a text for his location. It's the best I can do""Thanks zayn"...It's 2 months and 17 days later when zayn calls me with a location."Peru? As in, south America?""Yep, not sure how long for but thas were he is now""Liams always wanted to go to Peru... ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Harry povI head to Peru with liam and spend 4 weeks searching for niall. I dont find him.The same thing happens 3 months later in Canada. Then 5 months after canda I head to England....A year later I'm still searching. I don't fibd him....I'm 25 when I see him. He's drinking a pint in a pub called the old unicorn in Spain. "Niall?" His head shoots up to look at me."H-Harry? What are you doing here?"Niall hasn't changed much, he has straight teeth now and a tan and has put on a bit of weight, mainly his face, but other than that, he's the same boy I fell in love with 5 years ago."I've spent the last 5 years trying to find you""Find ME? Why?""Because I love you. And I had to tell you at least once to your face. I also had to apologise for what I said""You should have moved on by now. What about the gut you fell for?""That was you you plonker" I laugh."Oh""I-I listened to your note. I-my mum and I dont talk anymore. I told her about why you married me and that I fell for you but she just kept on about Taylor and-I shouted at her. Told her she was selfish and never listened to me or what I want -that's the last we spoke""I'm sorry. I didn't want you to fall out- I just- you deserved better. Someone who listened to what you were saying. Even when you didn't speak.""And that's you. Can-can we try again?" I ask."Daddy""H-Hey Aria" niall says picking up a child around 3 years old."Oh-You've -you've moved on. Sorry, I should go-""-Harry. Please stay. I have a daughter yes. She's 4 in a few months. But. I'm not with her mum." He covers Aria's ears "i was drunk when we slept together. But I couldn't not see not child." He uncovers her ears "I love her more than anything. I also love you. Even after nearly 5 years. Think we can try again? I mean, I have aria and if that's a problem don't bother, I'm not leaving her-""-I'd love to start again. With both of you" I smile."Aria, this is harry""You love awwy""I do yeah. Shall we let harry live with us?""No""No? Why not?"" awwy maked daddy sad""But he didn't mean to. I'd be happy if he lived with us""But daddy cwied""I made you cry?" I ask, feeling guity eat away at me."O-only a little. It's fine hazza. I promise.""O-Okay. I'll make it up to you. Both of you.""Buy us a curry and we'll call it quits." I find out niall has pretty much raised aria on his own as her mum, Sarah, is a dead weight and never wanted a child. She only agreed to carry her for 9 months on the condition niall raises her. So it's no big deal when we head home to Scarborough, England....5 months later"She loves the sea. Right little water child""Daddy. Papa come in the water."We giggle at her paddling a foot in front of us."Who's papa?" I ask niall."Aria, who's papa?""My other daddy. Silly""Me?" I ask shocked."No, him outside" she sasses rolling her eyes and smiling at me."Shes been hanging around with louis too long" niall comments."Agreed"
10721463	Grace	{ "Archive Warning": "Graphic Depictions Of Violence", "Category": "Multi", "Characters": "Cole (Dragon Age), Ser Bryant, Connor Guerrin, Anders, Female Lavellan", "Fandom": null, "Language": "English", "Rating": "Mature", "author": "by o_antiva", "chapters": "4/7", "completed": "", "published": "2017-04-24T00:00:00", "words": "18,797", "Additional Tags": "Suicidal Thoughts, Hurt/Comfort, Anders Positive, Country Healer Goings-on, Mystery, Cottagecore", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": "Anders/Male Hawke, Anders & Cole, Background Inquisitor/Cullen", "Series": null, "Collections": "Anders Positive Fics", "Fandoms": "Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age (Video Games)", "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	It was a long walk to Lothering, a long walk in silence. Rotted signposts pointed the way across a wild landscape, and the mud of the roads left off into a weedy indentation that wended through the moors. From time to time, water ran over what remained of the road, and in one wet depression a spill of lilypads had spread their leaves. There had been no one to spare in fixing the roads. There had been no one really to travel them. For miles the wind swept over gorse and heather. Birdwings whispered when a flock took flight.It was a lonely walk, and the traveler went on, not knowing why, only where.The traveler had the look of a pilgrim, long body wrapped in a cowled and tattered cloak. Uneven stitches connected the two lengths of fabric, both wool, but different in color and quality. His shirt and breeches were homespun, intended to fit another man and haphazardly altered to hang on his frame. He was taller than most of the men born in the hamlets and homesteads of Ferelden, much taller, but slender, with lean muscle and a gentle demeanor that kept him from towering. He went into the wind with a bowed head, the hood blown back, his hair a nimbus of shaggy gold shot through with gray. He had the look of a man from the Anderfels, the angular face, the bone-white skin, with an austere and masculine beauty framed in a beard of darker blond. His eyes were a dull color somewhere between brown and grey, not much life to them, and they looked on somewhere in the distance.He hadn't seen a signpost for some time yet, but the first of the wagons and carts were rising into view. Growing weeds climbed up the broken wheels, threaded in and out of the spokes until they reached out with new shoots above the road. When Lothering fell to the Blight, the people had left in a panic with all their worldly goods, and the roadway had been choked with wagons and carts. Here they lay, picked clean of anything useful, some ten years abandoned.He sometimes felt he had been watched, or that someone followed him. Once he almost had the impression that someone walked with him near Redcliffe, a boy in a wide-brimmed hat. He'd been mistaken then. A trick of the eye. Perhaps an effect of the Calling, whose pull was stronger by the day. It wouldn't be long now.When the sun broke through the clouds, he took a moment against the hulk of a wagon that once looked like it had been painted. Chips of faded color showed on the wood. The traveler shouldered off his pack and sat it on the wheel, held in place by its own saggy weight. It carried what remained of his life now: dried herbs, tea, clean bandages, a mess kit, and a change of clothes in as poor shape as those he currently wore. A bedroll and a copper cup were strapped to the bulk of the knapsack. There was nothing truly worth taking among these humble effects, all but the little stub of something wrapped up in wool and buried in the bottom of his belongings. You would never know it was there unless you knew the little hum of lyrium.It was growing warmer in the day, but he would keep the woolen cloak. He would have to carry it no matter what he did. He drank some water from a skin, feeling more weary than he should. He knew he ought to eat more than he did, but he no longer experienced any hunger. He had no interest in it, as with most things any more.He didn't know what he hoped to find there in Lothering. Yet it felt like he must go, a mournful sense that had been building for some time. Perhaps he wanted to feel some kind of closure, if that were even possible.Most days he felt like he wandered through life like an epilogue, his story long ended, with all its consequences presented before him. This is what you did. This is what you caused to happen.Bleak thoughts kept him company on the remainder of the road. He had looked in on one wagon and seen a smattering of bones there. Roofless houses came into view, their walls opened to the sky, the stone foundations overtaken with greenery. The chantry looked a marvel of weedy vegetation, half-collapsed, with the branches of young trees rising from within. A broken Andraste worked miracles in the colored panes of glass of the remaining windows. A bird had built its nest in a crook beneath one panel. Thieves and looters had taken everything else from the chapel, any gold as in the candlesticks, or jeweled goblets, or any other sacred objects set with precious stones or metals. It didn't matter in the end. The Maker was not to be found in the chantry.The traveler combed through the chantry yard at first, and when he walked among the memorial garden, he found that someone kept it clear of weeds. He read through the plaques for a familiar name, but he saw only the generations of small village life. Their jars and memorials were kept here, but perhaps their ashes were scattered in the fields and moors beyond, or in some place that spoke to them when they were alive.Perhaps the name would not be here by the chantry, for one reason or another. He could understand that. He wandered for a time among the ruins, and something led him toward the northern end of the village. It might have been the scent of herbs in the afternoon sun.There he discovered the ruins of a croft he knew from a story. It had been destroyed in the time of the Blight, but before the horde had reached Lothering. Consumed by fear and envy, and stirred to violence in a desperate time, the people of the village had come at night with torches to throw fire on the home. They should have known that the family would have shared with them the things they wanted to take, and afterward, when the teeth and claws and rusty blades of the enemy came for them, the village of Lothering was left without its healer.Yet the traveler found something in the ruins that surprised him. With no one to tend the garden, the herbs had grown freely and without a care, and now the grey stones were amassed with oregano and thyme, a riot of mint and lemongrass, and thick waves of vibrant elfroot. His healer's eye recognized the cultivars of the Bitter and Gossamer varieties, along with other strains whose names he did not know. For a long time he meandered through a never-ending tangle of healthy green growth, where the scent of a dozen spices and herbs wafted through the air. He almost felt peace, but his regrets never let him.He had been watching a bee crawl through through the tufts of lavender when he realized he was not alone. Truly this time. With great care, he turned to find a man standing across the expanse of the overgrown garden. He wore the plain clothes of a farmer, a nut-brown man in his fifties perhaps, his black hair steely at the temples. There was a practiced ease to the way he stood, something that spoke of a certain discipline. The traveler would know it anywhere."Well, now, you're a tall fellow, aren't you?" the templar called out to him, his voice a deep melody of warm interest.The traveler cleared his throat so he wouldn't croak when he talked. "Did you need something off the top shelf?""If I did, I would thank the Maker that you showed up." The man smiled and the traveler could see the damage that years of lyrium had left on his body-- but not his spirit. "I'm going to walk closer to you now, if that's all right.""Don't step on the garden, please.""Oh, never." He limped his way around the growth. "We don't see many travelers here in Lothering.""I'm only passing through."The traveler watched him approach. Favored his left leg-- an injury in the Blight, or perhaps only bad knees from the years of wearing armor. A knight only kitted up for practice or battle, but the templars believed they must be prepared at any time. He'd have a bad back too, most likely. Here he came, weary but friendly, his teeth discolored but intact. He might have been quite handsome once. "You looked like you were searching for something," he said.The traveler thought to lie, and he could have, but what use was it now. He wasn't much longer for any of this, and he might as well try to find some measure of peace. "I was looking for Malcolm Hawke's memorial. The-- he was the healer here as I understand."The answer did not seem to surprise the templar, who just nodded his head. "He didn't want it in the chantry yard. Thought it might give offense. I told him it was silly, but he wanted it in the garden. It's down this way, follow the mint... "The traveler accompanied him as he shuffled along a path that snaked through the greenery. "You wouldn't know a Ser Bryant, would you," he said. "The templar who served the chantry here." Yet the traveler knew the answer to his question; he felt it humming in his chest."That was me," replied the templar. "You knew the family?""I did. Garrett and Leandra were friends of mine." After a slight pause, he added, "Garrett spoke of you from time to time. He remembered you fondly."Bryant looked over his shoulder, his smile tight with emotion. "Really, then?" His eyes slid away. "Garrett was a good lad. One of a kind. Were you one of the mages he set free, then?" One of a kind. He'd said it so easily. "How did you know? Besides my telling you just now." Wasn't that a crime story trick."I always know," the templar told him."What are you doing here, Bryant?""My wife's making a roast, and I came to pick some mint leaves. We have a cottage just down the way."The traveler smiled despite himself. "And you limping like this?""It does me well to move around. I get stiff otherwise." Bryant smiled back, easy as you like. "Anyhow, she's a big Chasind woman, my wife, so I'd best do as she says."The templar led him to a sunny patch where a few stones were set out. "Here we are," Bryant said. "This is where the garden started. Damnedest thing, they burnt the house to the ground... but a year later, when we came back, the whole lot was overtaken with all the herbs. It was a sign, I think."The traveler smiled thinly."I'll let you be, but I'll wait around for you a bit if you like." Bryant clapped him on the shoulder in a gesture that surprised him.The traveler murmured "thank you" as the limping figure of the templar receded up the path. He was left with the memorial, the garden, and a dozen butterflies that drifted on the breeze. Malcolm's plaque was kept clear, and, the traveler noticed, there was a small pile of stones stacked together in Chasind style. For Bethany, perhaps?He didn't know what he hoped to accomplish here. To pay his respects to Malcolm? To ask his forgiveness? He had destroyed the family, in the end... everyone. All his friends. He was afraid to ask what happened afterward, to search for details. It would threaten his identity, not that he felt a pressing need to survive. It was against his will that he stood in the land of the living. A hostage here. Why had Garrett done this to him?The traveler knelt to place his hand upon the carven stone. He had no more tears these days, but he felt a raw expanse open in his chest. The day was lovely all around him, full of flowers and herbs, a vibrant day after a heavy rain, with a contented windy silence blowing across the wild. Somehow this was was worse.He felt that weird sensation pass over him again. The hairs on his arms standing up. After years of living with Justice, he recognized intrusive thoughts when he heard them, but this was different somehow: kind. No judging. The dead man already gave you his answers. The living one might have more for you. Let's go see.When he glanced up, the traveler thought he saw someone standing in the field beyond-- almost a scarecrow, skinny-tall, with homespun clothes that didn't fit. A brimmed hat. But no. His imagination.He knew he shouldn't speak to Bryant again, who already knew too much. You couldn't trust the templars, even now. Who's to say what he might mention to someone. No. I have to do this. I think I'm meant to do this. Anders whispered a prayer to Malcolm and Bethany, people he never knew in life, but who he could picture clearly from the stories told by those who loved them. He wished he had something to leave for them, but he had nothing suitable as an offering. And nothing he could do would ever repay what he had done.Fighting down his dark thoughts, he turned back toward the cluster of ruined houses up the way. He rubbed his throat as if to smooth his voice. He didn't think he could cry any more, but sometimes his voice could still break. He found Bryant sitting on a boulder, resting his leg, no doubt. He had gathered a few handfuls of mint in a cloth, and the smell of the juice was powerful.Bryant looked up at him with a smile, his dark eyes wrinkled at the corners. Anders knew he was being measured but not judged, somehow. A warm curiosity borne of compassion, as if to wonder what might bring a tired, starving man to the middle of nowhere.As Anders approached him, Bryant gathered his things and went to stand. He grunted with some difficulty. The leg must trouble him especially. Anders extended an open hand-- "May I?" he said, and Bryant nodded, perhaps not knowing yet what he offered. He laid his hand on Bryant's shoulder-- it didn't have to be near the injury at his proficiency-- and he let a slow magic seep in.He could see it work from the relief that swept over the templar's face. Bryant tested his weight full on his leg. His entire stance changed. "Maker, that's good, thank you," he said."It won't last, I'm afraid.""Of course. I've done lyrium for far too long... but it's good to feel like myself again, if just for awhile.""You don't take any of it now?""Clean for several years.""You should drink plenty of water, and a cup of milk every day if you can manage.""Why milk?""Lyrium will damage your bones. Milk can help with that.""That's good to know, thank you.""Don't thank me. Garrett had a side project to help templars who wanted to leave the order, but couldn't, because of their addiction. He was always looking for a remedy.""He was a good man.""You never cared what they were.""No. I'll admit, I was afraid of Malcolm at first from what I'd heard of him. But as soon as I'd met him, I knew he'd be a friend for life. Garrett and Bethany couldn't help what they were, and the Circle wouldn't have known what to do with them. It seemed useless to me, worse than useless. What if it were the Maker's will?"Anders bowed his head. He couldn't trust himself to say anything, but Bryant continued, "I did what I could to help them here. I only regret how the village turned them out in the Blight... I tried to stop them, but once a few knights from Redcliffe threw into the mix, there was nothing I could do.""They left early when they might have died otherwise. They barely escaped Ferelden as it was.""On the back of a dragon, no less," the templar replied, a gentle humor restoring in his eyes. "I read the tale.""Have you heard any news of the family?""Some. Kirkwall is still putting itself back together. There's no viscount yet. The other nobles are afraid to take it, but they won't let anyone else, either. Young Carver is Lord Amell now, he's left the templars, Maker be thanked. Lives as a hero-adventurer now, like he always wanted. Suits him.""Lord Amell. Good for him. I suppose all the noble ladies will be lining up.""I suppose they did," Bryant said with a laugh. "But he married a friend of his instead, a dalish elf, and an open mage at that. Caused a great deal of scandal among the biddies, I'll wager, but no one dares to try anything."Anders rubbed his chest by his collarbone, as if to squash the strange sensation that developed there. "A dalish mage?" he asked, dumbly."They seem happy. Two children. Sometimes I get a letter from him, sealed up with a fancy signet ring. He's been very kind to remember me.""It was good that the family had you for a friend.""I was thinking the same. I suppose Garrett is out running around? I heard he was last seen somewhere in Orlais.""I don't know.""He'll make it back. He's a strong lad."Anders swallowed thickly. "Everyone blames him for the war.""No they don't. No one who matters. The war was coming the instant the Chantry granted itself the powers it took from others. The Nevarran Accord-- ah, now, you haven't come to listen to an old man go on about politics. At least not without a pint, eh... us old fellows like to gather at the pub to rant like this.""No, no-- finish your thought.""I was saying only that the Chantry failed the people, the mages, and the templars alike. You cannot treat grown men and women like children, like prisoners, or dangerous lunatics-- or that is exactly what you will make them. But never you mind. It was building for some time, and the matter of Tranquility was the final blow. It's said now they've always known how to turn the Tranquil back, but they've kept it as a tool of fear-- not to mention it makes the chantry a fair bit of coin. The templars should have voted as the mages did, to free themselves also of the Chantry's influence... but they did so only to pursue Fiona's people and put them to the sword. A pox on the leaders of the Order, who started this war, who preferred a dead mage to a free one.""I hadn't heard it put that way," Anders replied, carefully."Everyone wants someone to blame, but they never want to look inside themselves. The Chantry's the worst at it. I think it's that we spend so much time obsessed with her sacrifice, her burning at the stake, her flames, her ashes... it's so much of her pain and suffering and punishment. What of her life, her friends, her compassion? I think we're best served just shutting up and trying to make things better. Unless we're to have a rant in the pub, but I think everyone deserves a little of that.. "For awhile, Anders could only breathe, trying to force a flurry of thoughts into a solid form. "It's-- been a rough few years. Always traveling. I fought for this for so long, but I never thought I would live to see it. A world I wasn't meant to be a part of. Yet I remain, when so many others died... it's difficult.""But you've helped people as best you could.""The least I could do.""So you feel at a loss of what to do, but why not continue to help? It's never too late.""I'm tired.""I can see it in your face, my friend. There's no reason to go alone. Think you'll join the Inquisition?" Bryant quirked something of a smile. "Not the best name, mind you... ""This may surprise you, but I've had enough of the Chantry by now... ""Aye then, so have I. So is the Maker, I think. I believe that's why He chose an elf for His champion. Things are going to be different. Anyway, the Chantry hates the Inquisition these days, all those reverend mothers and sisters swearing up and down about false prophets. So you know she must be doing something right."Anders simply followed him for a time, his head swarming with thoughts. "You'll forgive me," he said softly at last, "I'm unused to having such a conversation. It's been awhile since I've spoken at length with anyone.""I'll save my politics for the tavern," Bryant assured him. "You'll join us for the roast, then, won't you?""I couldn't."They walked together for some moments more, and Bryant seemed to compose himself for something he wanted to say. Softly it came, an almost conspiratorial undertone, "I know who you are, by the way. I knew the instant I saw you, really."A chill swept over Anders' body, even under the scratchy wool cloak. Half-dizzy, he said, "Did you."Bryant watched him closely, and his smile was gentle. "You're Trevelyan, the healer in the hinterlands. I've heard about your good works."Oh. "It's-- nothing.""It's everything, for the people you saved."Anders shrugged. "I wanted to help put their lives back together," he said, and he stopped on the path that lead toward a new settlement beyond. He couldn't go any further. "I must part ways with you here, Bryant.""A pity, but I understand. You should take as many herbs as you like from their old garden. The elfroot in particular-- you'd never know it came in so many different kinds.""Thank you. That's a good idea.""Come by anytime you like. You're not too far away."Anders held out his hand, and Bryant clasped his arm in a friendly grip. "Take care of yourself.""Don't forget about the milk.""I won't, thank you.""And you didn't see me.""I didn't see anything." Bryant winked. "I never do."Anders watched him gambol back to the settlements, where the smoke from a chimney was giving forth a good cooking smell. A child of about four or five years emerged from an indignant cloud of chickens and ran toward his father. Anders' heart panged; he found himself wanting to sit down for a proper meal, for a hot roast with herbs, for the warmth of conversation and simple companionship.His eyes stung when he turned away. He thought he lost the capacity to feel sadness of any sharpness any more, but there it was, cutting more deeply than he could imagine.It hurts because you're alive, he found himself thinking, almost as if someone whispered the words to him. You must keep going forward.Anders slogged his way back to the gardens. He ought to take some cuttings. They didn't have herbs like these back in Redcliffe, and the growing season had just begun. They would need means to salve and heal themselves after he was gone; you couldn't magic everything away, after all.He believed himself alone with his thoughts. It was a lot to mull over, and it would keep him busy for some time. Carver and Merrill? The Rite of Tranquility? What did it mean, Garrett last seen in Orlais? He was gone. He was dead. He had killed himself to stop the war, but the war came anyway, full and terrible. Why would they say they had seen him? It was a dizzying thought that left Anders breathing hard in a patch of overgrown garden, trying to stop his hands from shaking. Bryant seemed so sure, and he hadn't been a stupid man. He knew, of course. He had to know. What did this mean?The sun was setting now. Anders had what he needed, and more than he knew what to do with. He swung his knapsack over his shoulder, the smell of cut herbs pervading his senses. He would have to head back now; he knew he would lose his nerve if he stayed any longer. He left the lost village, and Cole went with him, as he often did these days. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- He preferred to keep busy these days.The worst of the fighting was over. The fires were extinguished. The banks of ice melted. Glyphs and wards dissolved. Wounds closed. The bodies of rebel mages and templars had been heaped up and burned, after the smallfolk had gone through their clothing for anything worth taking. It was done now. An uneasy peace fell across the hinterlands, but there was always more work to do.He was going by Trevelyan now. When people asked what to call him, the name popped in his head, and he hadn't known right away from where. There had been a bookseller's stall in the Hightown market and that had been the man's name, he thought. A vague Free Marches name. At the time this all began, he hadn't expected to live much longer anyway, but he had, and now he was stuck with it.Varric Tethras once said he must have nine lives. Anders figured he had gone through most of them by now.He never looked on the role of healer as anything permanent in the hinterlands, but it was work that needed doing, and it was work he did well. He was the best. It was no boast: his talent for healing was the only thing that emerged from the vast mire of self-loathing. Few had more experience than he did, those long years running the clinic in Kirkwall. First by himself, and then with Garrett, who protected the clinic with his name and his legal standing. Trauma. Bloodshed. Illness. Childbirth. Anything and everything. The bad as well as the good.Just the other day, Anders had worked another of his casual offhanded miracles. Someone had run to fetch him-- a young man he almost recognized from somewhere-- and he'd raced to find the scene of the tragedy. A crofter family was returning from market day in Redcliffe when a footbridge broke beneath their draft horse. Animal, cart, and family fell into the rocky stream below. For perhaps half an hour the father had lain in the water, trying to keep the head of his youngest above the surface. They'd been pinned. The horse screamed with a broken leg-- they'd have to put it down when this was all over. The farmwife attempted to saw through the straps, to dig out the wheel, but there wasn't much that two exhausted people could do.Anders had energized the cart and lifted it off. Simple as that. He waded in to heal the boy, closing his wounds as though it were nothing. When the sobbing parents dragged their child to the bank, he healed the draft horse, who sprang up and snorted and kicked on the bank like a foal that has just learned to walk. It seemed to understand what he had done for it, its huge soft dark eyes radiant with life. Anders had listened to the boy's breathing, checked his eyes by a soft created light, and talked gently with the mother and father for a few minutes to make sure they were all right. Sometimes you missed an injury in all the excitement. The joy and relief of the family were good to witness, but their effusive thanks embarrassed him. Truth be told, the most difficulty in that incident had been the matter of the animal. More than twenty years had passed since he had much to do with horses, and he was wary of the draft horse, whose hoof was like a dinner plate.Sometimes he almost felt a measure of satisfaction, but at the end of the day, when activity died down, the dark thoughts crept into the quiet spaces of his mind.Of course he should help these people put their lives back together. He was to blame for their present troubles.Anders often wondered what it would have been like if he had been able to live like this from the beginning. If home had been the dilapidated cottage he now inhabited. If he could walk openly among the villagers and heal their wounds and listen to their pain. What if he and Garrett fixed up the tumbledown croft in Lothering. Bryant had seemed so kind, so genuine.It was no use tormenting himself, yet he persisted anyhow. Justice was no longer present to provide that service. It didn't feel normal without a constant voice to criticize him.If it were a usual day, he might wake at dawn and start the fire for the kettle. Tea or herbs these days. He missed the taste of coffee boiled in the long-handled copper pots. Even after four years he still felt the pang of wanting a cup of it. But they were too far south of the equator, and he hadn't seen any Rivaini or Tevinters among the merchant ships at the Redcliffe docks.He liked to review his notes from the day before. Patients, their symptoms and situations. Questions that had been asked of him. Treatments he had prescribed. Shortfalls in supplies. Bits of interest that he wanted to remember, putting them down to re-used scraps of paper with a little stump of charcoal. His memory wasn't what it used to be.No one had touched the things in his cottage this time. He hadn't been gone long on his journey to Lothering, but in the beginning, his things were always raided. People had been hungry. Desperate. He had moved his dwelling several times, like a wild animal that changes its lair. He preferred a certain waterfall cave, but it turned out to be less hidden than he originally believed. A pity. There had been proper ventilation and access to water; smoke from the fire found its way out, and it was good to stand in the cold and let the falls wash over him.Now he kept a humble dwelling abandoned in a thicket. Perhaps it belonged to a forester originally. He didn't know, as most of everything had been removed from the roundhouse. A separate building crumbled not too far away.Only a few people knew he stayed here. Maura and Sennon. Adahlen, the mercenary. Thalia, the fletcher's daughter. Adaar. Sera, of course-- she liked to stick her head through the hole in the thatched ceiling and cackle like a loon.Sera, Sera. He had truly come to appreciate her. Their friendship began with an "Oi, Trev! Come help me find this lost druffalo," followed shortly by a "Like you wasn doin nuffink better." He hadn't known what to make of her at first, but she was fierce in her protection of the ordinary people. From time to time, he caught himself wondering what Sebastian would have thought of her.There was still light in the day of his return, so he read through his ledger as he puttered around the cottage. He wanted to check on the family with the draft horse. He should inquire after the woman with the persistent cough-- it should have cleared itself by now, most likely brought on by the change in the weather. Adahlen, of course, remained his prevailing concern. Lothering was as far as he would travel until she was well settled after the birth. She seemed to be doing so much better, though, a trend he hoped would continue. Pregnancy was fraught with danger. He wished he had better access to a midwife, but the only one he knew was often away on her work. She'd been talking about taking an apprentice.Anders wondered if the dalish might assist if anything went wrong with Adahlen, but Sennon told him the chaos had driven the wild elves away. With maddened templars descending upon the countryside, not even the dalish had been safe. No one had. Even Maura's husband had been slain for apostasy, but it turned out he hadn't been carrying a staff-- only a shovel. Her bitterness ran deep.He'd intended to pay her a visit. There was a good sunny patch around her cottage, and he envisioned the herb cuttings taking root there. He didn't want to plant them about his own cottage, since heavy branches cast deep shadows, and anyhow, who would take care of them after?The afternoon light came beautifully through the new green leaves, and when he worked his way around a ridge, the lower valley opened to his sight: rolling fields and recovering farmland. One of the freeholders had been mending a fence for the last fortnight. Not that it mattered overmuch: for some reason, the man's cattle seemed to obey the idea of the fence rather than its reality. Anders liked them: the big ginger cows he remembered from his youth, with their coppery bangs falling in their faces, and their eyes big and dumb. They strained their necks over the fence to be petted sometimes if he walked that way.Maura wasn't home. Everything looked tidy and intact, so perhaps she had taken Adahlen down into the village. They could be drinking tea with Sennon, perhaps. Anders stooped to leave a bundle of herbs at her door, and he gave them some water from his skin. She would know he had returned.On the way back, he found himself lost in thought. The pregnancy made him think of Merrill. Two children by now. He wondered what they were like, and how she was living now with Carver. He wondered what the other noblewomen thought of the new Lady Amell. He hoped they weren't awful to her. He'd been awful to her. He'd been so awful...It was growing dark now and Anders realized he hadn't walked the way home. He had wandered around the hillside path. The coming twilight was no issue to him: he could make his own light if he needed, which he didn't. Grey Wardens could see in the dark. However, he didn't like how absent-minded he had become these days. It was as though a cloud passed over his thoughts at times. It could be damage from the demon ripped out of him-- or the taint, catching up with him at last. The song of the Calling never felt too far away... No. Listen and you will hear him. He ran away, and only you can help him. You'll know what to say. Anders felt a cold prickle over his skin. With a weird sensation thrumming in his chest, he continued up the path. Twisting roots of massive trees held in the hillside. The waterfall crashed nearby, cold and beautiful. He could hear nothing but the sound of the water, but something told him someone was nearby. The cave. Of course. The waterfall cave.He called out a lingering hello... and heard something scramble in the dark."Anyone in there?" Anders pitched his voice.He thought he heard the muffled sound of someone trying to hold back a sob.Venturing forth, Anders added, "If you're a bear, say so."Hmmm. Sounded like a girl crying. Anders wearily wondered if it wasn't a rift demon trying to lure in a bite to eat. Kirkwall had jaded him forever..."Stay back!" a tearful voice told him. A young man, actually.Anders halted. "Very well, I'll stay here," he said, "unless you're injured. I'm a healer.""Leave me alone.""Are you all right?""No." It sounded full of tears and snot and regret."What's wrong?"The young man's voice shuddered in reply."I'm coming in," Anders told him. "I won't hurt you."His eyes adjusted to the gloom. The young man huddled in the curve of the cave, wearing a filthy set of Circle robes. He hugged his knees, looking up, his face red and white with misery. He had all but cried himself out. Looked about twenty years of age, with unkempt auburn hair. There was a wild energy to him, though, real fear, and Anders noted a staff just within his reach."It's all right," Anders said, "I'm also a mage. I'm Trevelyan-- I've been living here for a little while. Did you come here with Fiona's people?"The young man said nothing. Anders sensed that he didn't want to cry when he talked. Some pride there. Poor thing. Some men just fell apart completely when they cried, as if it meant something of their character."I used to live in this cave, too," Anders told him. He knew he could loom over people sometimes, and his height could seem imposing to those who didn't know him yet. So he sat down against the opposite wall and hoped he wouldn't touch anything slimy. There had been some wonderfully disgusting mushrooms growing around here last time. "I thought myself so clever with my waterfall hideout. Unfortunately, everyone wants one, and I found myself unwitting roommates with two different bands of apostates, one surprised templar, and at least three crews of bandits. Also, a grumpy bear, and one wandering drunkard. It simply wouldn't do. Although the drunk had good stories."The young man said nothing, so they passed some moments in silence. Then, bravely attempting to master his voice, the young man told him, "There's nothing you can do to help me.""I could listen.""Don't-- don't you know about me?" He wiped his nose, his mouth, on a grimy sleeve. He sounded so wretched, so thoroughly beaten down. "I'm Connor Guerrin."Anders recalled the story now. He had heard what happened from Nathaniel, who had known the family in that distant other life of his, when he had been a lord. "How long have you been out here by yourself, Connor?""A little while. I-- I couldn't go with the others.""To Skyhold.""They're better off without me."Anders felt a thickness in his throat. Ah. He knew this well. "Because of what happened all that time ago? Is that what you mean to say?"Connor nodded fiercely, his eyes screwed shut."Do you feel like you're a threat to others?""It's said that a former abomination will always be at risk to falling again. I-- I can't bring that on the Inquisition. There's too much at stake. I-- I don't want, if anything happened... ""Do you want to be one again?"Connor's head snapped up. "No!""Then you've nothing to fear," Anders replied. "Not really. You know what it felt like. You won't let it happen again.""But they said it's even easier now than ever before.""What do they know about it? There's too little written about curing an abomination. Few ever have the chance to be saved.""I'm just so tired of it.""Your entire life lies ahead of you. This bad thing happened when you were a child. You had no way to defend yourself then, but you're grown now.""It doesn't matter.""Some of them treated you as if you were damaged beyond repair. Is that it? And it's gone on for so long that you believe it."He could tell these words hit home. Connor's face crumpled, and he hid in his arms. "We need to be controlled," he said. "We're dangerous. I-- I'm dangerous.""We are dangerous, but we have a special gift, Connor. The Maker gave this to you for a reason. What happened wasn't your fault, and it does no good to make you the scapegoat of the Circle's failures. Tell me, if the Fereldan tower had been such a wondrous place of learning and support, why would your parents fear to send you there? Even they had to know the abuses even then.""I just can't go. The other mages hate me. I knew they were looking at me. I knew they were thinking about the monsters that took over Kinloch. Or they were thinking of people they knew that had to be put down. But I was an arl's son, so I had special treatment.""Is it to be your fault also that some lack basic compassion, then? The broken circle, the victims of demons... you can't rightly be blamed for those." Anders made his voice as gentle as he could. "Listen, Connor. It's growing dark, and it's damp. Why don't you come back with me, and I will put on the kettle. Will you do that?"Connor gave him an anguished look. He could tell the boy was starved for kindness, but afraid to accept an offer. He couldn't trust anything, even himself. "I don't want your pity," he whispered."But I don't pity you, Connor," Anders answered him. "It's that I understand you. I had a demon once... for many years. I killed a lot of people. I don't want to go to Skyhold, either, so I stay here and help people as I can."Tears slid freshly from the young man's eyes. He looked on, only stunned."Please come back with me, Connor. When's the last you've eaten anything?"Led back by the light of his glowing hands, Anders brought Connor back to the cottage. The poor boy sniffled the entire way, and no doubt he suffered all the more for his pride. "I always hated to cry," Anders told him. "But everyone does it. Our bodies are strange sometimes, but I think that it helps. I'll get you some water to drink, so you don't dry out."Anders realized absently that he had nothing to eat in his hermit dwelling in the woods. He couldn't remember when he'd eaten anything himself-- perhaps at Maura's? In typical Anders fashion he once again failed miserably at taking care of himself-- shit, hadn't Garrett had to wash his hair on more than one occasion? Now this was going to be a disappointment."Do you know this trick?" Anders asked the young man, starting the cookfire with a spell. Nobody had run off with the iron tripod, thankfully, so he set the kettle on its hook. Connor stood rubbing his arms, looking unsure of where to go or what to do. The boy looked exhausted. Garrett had been so much better at this-- all the sad scared magelings they had kept for a time in the house, until they were ready to make their escape. Garrett had been tireless in his pursuit to love everyone and everything.Anders seated Connor at one of the logs he used for a chair, giving him some water to work on. Then he ducked inside the cottage to assess the situation. At one point, he had considered setting up a cot in the other structure nearby, in case there was a patient who needed longer care or a closer watch. He'd never quite gotten around to it-- his plans these days often fell apart with apathy and a deep futile sense of depression. It would be too easy to make a new clinic these days... but he couldn't. He couldn't do that. He shouldn't make things that would keep him here.Thus he was left with some extra linens-- poor quality yet clean, and they would do. He could make Connor a place to sleep by the table for now. There was room if he pulled the cot up beside it. Connor wasn't as tall as he was, so he wouldn't have to hunch and stoop everywhere in the cottage to avoid hitting his head on a hanging pan or bunch of dried herbs or a timber or whatnot. Adaar was always trying to avoid a snag when he came here. There are things to feed him here. The things she brought you from the kitchens, good and fun. You didn't eat them. You didn't want anything anymore, but it's all right, they're still here. You can give them to Connor. It was somewhere in this preparation that Anders remembered Sera's gift. She brought him cookies, and-- yes, they were still there, wrapped up in a cloth. Dried and hard, but he didn't see any fuzz on them, and they were still an oatlike color. It was the best he could offer right now. Connor was still there when he came back out. Good. He had dried his eyes by this point, and he had composed himself somewhat. He still looked wrung out, but at least he drank all the water he was given. His bleary eyes watched Anders expectantly, wounded, yet wanting to trust him so badly.Anders swallowed despite the lump in his throat. "These are a bit dry," he said, offering the cloth to him, "but I bet you could dip them to soften them up."They drank tea together, mostly a calming blend of herbs, with the dried heads of chamomile and a few sprigs of elfroot. A crushed pod of blood lotus to help the boy sleep, but not enough to stir up any dreams. Connor ended up eating all of the cookies, one by one, and his color seemed to return-- such as it was, this pale Fereldan lad.The night was cool and beautiful, every star in the sky shining through the canopy of trees above them. The sound of an owl came to them somewhere deep in the forest. The woodsmoke smelled good. Connor didn't say anything for awhile, his filthy robe dusted with crumbs; at the end, he hadn't waited to dip them in the tea and just crunched through them. Anders thought of Garrett's mabari Lady gobbling down her treats, who looked surprised when they were gone.In the span of this crunchy interlude, Anders had completely resolved himself to help this boy. He was meant to do this. He just knew. A tumult of emotions went through him: why hadn't anyone gone back for Connor? Didn't they notice his absence? Didn't they understand that the abuses of the Circle were the likely the reason of the arl's misgivings in the first place, the fear that compelled him to hide the boy at home? And it hadn't been Kinloch who saved Redcliffe from the demon. It had been the Grey Wardens and a blood magic sacrifice.Anders studied the young man before him, keeping quiet, his earthen mug held between his hands. Connor stared into the fire for a time, but at last, he looked up to meet his eyes."Trevelyan?""Yes?""They said-- you were an old man."The gray, the beard, the skeletal frame. The world-weary way he drifted through the hinterlands. "I feel like an old man."Connor looked away. "How did they cure you?" he asked."Someone who loved me very much still believed I could be saved. I didn't want it-- but here I am." A pause. "I heard what the Wardens did. That they did a ritual to save you."Connor's lips tightened almost to nothing. "People talk about things they don't even understand. They weren't there. It's-- they had to do it. More people would have died. They didn't make a deal with any demon. The power came out of Jowan-- my teacher. And, and Mother... it was her choice.""I understand, Connor. The world is far more complicated than the Chantry tells us.""Do you still believe in the Maker?"Anders summoned up a smile, hoping it didn't look as weary as he felt. "I still do. His work is all around us. It is good and beautiful-- He isn't cruel and petty like Men make him out to be. Men only make him like Men.""You... you didn't do any blood magic, did you?"There was such a despairing fear in Connor's eyes, as if he wanted to trust Anders, but he didn't know if he could. He had to be thinking of Jowan, who must have sat across from him once, as Anders did now."I didn't do any blood magic. It interferes with one's connection to the Fade and with healing magic from the School of Creation." He should have stopped there, but he felt compelled to continue. "I'll be honest with you, in all my time, I have come to believe that it doesn't inherently need to be evil. I believe the Chantry outlaws it out of confusion over Andraste's life and times, and the abuses of ancient Tevinter. More than that, the templars cannot detect its use nor stop it with their power. That is chief reason it is forbidden. It has to be."He suspected such an elaborate answer might make him sound guilty, but there it was. Yet even in his exhausted state, Connor seemed to understand, if only by a measure. The young mage shrugged as if to explain. "You have a lot of scars on your arms. I saw them.""Well... there were eyes and teeth growing out of them." Anders smiled weakly, then. He would have to find clothing that fit him better. Longer sleeves. If Connor saw it, then other people might see it, and they would get ideas.Connor looked down. "Did you ever want to kill yourself?" He could see the convulsive swallow in the column of the boy's throat. Cold water, sharp stones. He was waiting to find the thing inside him that would make him ready to jump. He'd been waiting for awhile. He doesn't want to die... he wants to live, but he doesn't know if he's allowed. "I did. I even tried. I-- I don't wish to revisit it at this time, Connor, but I will say that I regretted it. At the time I didn't want to die... I just wanted the pain to stop and for my problem to be solved. Those are very different things." Anders kept his voice steady. He hadn't ever spoken to anyone about this before, not even Garrett. He felt he vomited so many problems over Garrett that he couldn't bear to put more upon him. He hadn't realized the undercurrent of Hawke's own fears, how deep they went. He should have known he would kill Garrett with what he'd done. He'd left him no way out. And Justice hadn't cared.Anders blinked back the sting in his eyes. "These are chaotic times, Connor, and we're on the verge of a great change for the better. It may even be here-- the mages at Skyhold live freely, and there haven't been any troubles yet. It's a good thing. They can prove themselves against the enemy that faces us all. But with everything happening, I don't want you to slip through the cracks. It's not right. You deserve more. I want to help you however I can."Connor's eyes shone in the firelight, but his tears did not fall. "I want to learn how to heal, like you do.""Truly?""Yes. The way you help people... it's like you're not even trying." When Anders smirked, Connor quickly added, "No, I mean, it's not like you're just mucking about. I meant... it's a miracle."Anders looked down into his cup, as if he might find some answer there. Teach Connor to heal? "Very well. I'll do my best to teach you. I warn you, I'm messy, disorganized, and I've never had an apprentice-- but we'll see what happens." Anders had considered the prospect in the past, but it was too risky to bring on another mage in the clinic. They barely got away with what they did. "I've a lot of work to do around the hinterlands. I could truly use the help."Connor brightened. "When do we start?""Tomorrow. You need your rest."Connor took in a deep breath. "Thank you, Trevelyan," he said in a voice beset by a tremor.Anders kindly bade him goodnight, and for awhile after, he sat holding his cup and watching the cookfire in front of the cottage. He let it die out into glowing embers, and the blue darkness returned to the forest. He hadn't expected his day to turn out how it did, but he felt a fleeting pain in his chest-- he knew he must do this. He was meant to do this. He had to believe that Hawke's decision meant something important. If he could prove that Connor could still lead a life worth living, that he could come back from that legendary point of no return-- then in the future there might be help for the afflicted. That they would never become so desperate. That the threat of demons would not be held over mages forever and made the reason for their abuse. You wished you could have asked for help. You tried to find a way, but the Other One wouldn't let you. "There was no one I could have gone to," Anders whispered to himself. "No one could have helped." I am sorry. I am here now. I came as soon as I could. ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- The nightmare again. He jolted awake. A rivulet of cold sweat ran down his back. He shivered and looked blankly around him, seeing without seeing. The aftereffects of the dream were still vivid in his mind. That room again. That terrible room. With long practice, Anders set about to calm himself, making himself look and note all of the things he saw around him.Though it was still dark, he could still see detail in the cottage. He was safe. Nothing had happened in reality. The cold sweat made his hair tacky. He had drenched himself in perspiration throughout the night. That was fine. He meant to boil laundry that day anyway. Connor was a heap on the cot, completely out. Good. The boy was filthy, but there hadn't been time to properly sort him out last night. Anders had sawn an old keg in half, or somewhat a half, to use as a makeshift tub. He might heat some water for it later, or, better yet, teach Connor how to do that if he didn't already know the trick.There was a dim blue light coming through the trees when Anders stepped outside the cottage. Not yet dawn. As he splashed his face from the rain barrel, he wondered where he might barter for supplies. The trip down to Redcliffe was longer than he wanted to make with Connor sleeping, yet it would be a kind gesture to have a meal waiting for him when he awoke. Real food this time.The notion came to him that he might go to the Inquisition camp. Bag up all his loot. Things he didn't need. The Venatori hadn't lived up to his expectations, and the results of their confrontation were cluttered in the little outbuilding nearby. Blades, staves, armor, amulets. In the past, Anders had been content to offload them on Adaar and Sera, who might take these things to people who could use them. Anders considered it. Perhaps after Connor awoke. Best to find out if the boy needed anything, so he would only have to make one trip. He didn't like to linger around the Inquisition, no matter how friendly and welcoming some of them could seem. The elf Cillian had a way of putting you at ease, a gentle, unassuming little fellow, who liked to talk about his garden. Not what Anders had expected from a scion of an ancient and lethal discipline.Working as quietly as he could, Anders began the task of clearing the outbuilding. He would begin the effort, but he decided that he would hand it over to Connor. It was important that he was able to work on something of his own. To accomplish something of his own. Even in the better Circle arrangements, mages were often robbed of growth and responsibility, and even the elder mages were simply lost old children. Lives wasted. Disregarded. Adult men and women afraid to take risks or initiative. Waiting around dumbly to be told what to do. Connor had likely been treated like a child. A dangerous child.Anders recalled the great kindness that Tabris once dealt him. He hadn't known how to be free, once the Wardens took him, and he struggled to know what to do with himself. Pursuit and injustice had defined him. Now the chains were stricken off, and he could go where he wanted, talk to whomever he wanted, do whatever he wanted... so long as he obeyed his orders and upheld his duties. Kallian had shown him around the keep and taken him to a room, given it to him, and handed him the key to a door he could lock. She kept him busy with chores and errands around Amaranthine, dumping into his lap a big heap of responsibilities. Nathaniel struggled also-- a lord's son, with no more servants and men-at-arms to do his bidding-- but he'd been better off, and he took it upon himself to help Anders as he could. How to make change with money. How to barter at the market. How to tell people no.At times, Anders recalled his life in Amaranthine with a bittersweet twist of wistfulness. Talking with Nathaniel, sitting up on the walls. Sharing a pint with Oghren. Flirting with Velanna-- and being put firmly in his place. She'd had none of that nonsense, as he recalled, and he deserved exactly what he got. Tabris had put them all to intense training and exercise, and though Anders never wanted to be a Warden, he had wanted friends. He wanted to belong. Light of a bonfire. Good cooking smells. The people of the city carry brightly colored paper things. A festival for Andraste. You smile to yourself because you threw Nathaniel's knickers in the fire. Your prank war continued, but you didn't know it was Zevran who got you both to fight each other. Doesn't matter. All friends, even Tabris, in her own way. Laughter, companions, purpose-- but from the ramparts you see Justice, Kristoff's body tired and failing, as he struggles and drops against a tree... it won't be long now, you thought. Someone should help him. Anders sighed. You wanted to help him. You didn't know what could happen. When you did, you tried to save the both of you. When you couldn't, you tried to stop the both of you. He wouldn't let you. "Far too early in the day for this," Anders murmured. He had caught himself on the well-worn steps of self-loathing, that corkscrew path that took him into familiar despair. He couldn't go that way right now, however, not with work needing to be done. It was of no use now. He ran his arm over his forehead, and stood back, looking at his progress. So far, he had drug out the weaponry and armor that he threw in there, and at least a partial frame of some moldering furniture that had been left to rot in the outbuilding. A table? An old loom? A rack of some kind? There was no telling its purpose now. Had this place been abandoned around the time of the Blight?A voice called out in the forest. It sounded like Sennon. It was a breezy midmorning, and the sun was laying bright patches through the leaves. Anders wiped his hands and went toward the front of the cottage, where he had swept something of a path to join the trail below. Sennon made to call out again, but Anders held a finger to his lips. The elf understood at once, though he raised his brows as though to ask if something were wrong. He was in his traveling robes, Maura and Adahlen with him-- Maker, she was huge by this point. Anders shook his head gently and held his hands together by his ear, to pantomime sleep. "Ooh, do you have a friend staying over?" Of course Adahlen would tease him. "Now, that's none of our business," Maura said.Sennon just smiled."I've taken in a runaway mageling," Anders told them. "He'll be resting now." As he walked up to them, Sennon offered his hand, and Anders met him with a kindly gesture. "I've left you some herbs I found in Lothering. You'll find them by your doorstep, unless the animals have made off with them." Maura said, "You're too kind, Trevelyan. I'll give the herbs a good home.""There's not enough light to grow them here," he told her. "You've got that good patch of sun." "We've come up from Redcliffe," said Sennon. "We brought you a few things, didn't we? And just in time for your young friend." It seemed that Sennon carried Maura's pack in addition to his own. The old gentleman had been a kind and helpful presence in Redcliffe, a city elf come to live his golden years outside the alienage. There had been many changes with the succession of Bann Shianni Tabris. It was Adaar who had introduced Sennon and Maura, both grieving the loss of their companion, not yet ready to move into something more. Yet their growing friendship was a beautiful thing. Together they seemed to adopt Adahlen, an elven mercenary who was greatly pregnant. Maura made him a gift of some supplies, and Anders' heart panged to receive them. "Thank you," he said. "You don't know how sorely these are needed.""You had better eat some of this yourself, now," Maura replied. "Don't give away all your food, like you always do." Anders set the satchel on a tree stump, and went into squeeze Maura's hand. She smiled at him, and he went in for a look at Adahlen. "As for you," he said, "how are we doing? Any changes since we last spoke?""I have to pee all the time," she announced with zesty triumph. "Sorry, Sennon!" The elven gentleman laughed and clapped his hands over his ears, and he and Maura drew away for a measure of privacy, but ostensibly to look at the flowers on some climbing vine. "But that can't surprise you, hahren," Adahlen continued in her fun tone of voice. "We've had to stop about twenty times on the way up from Redcliffe!" Anders grinned. Not only was she an easy patient, she was adorable, frankly. The sort of boisterous rogue that gave charm to any adventuring party. "That's the way of it," he told her. "I wouldn't worry about that. Babies love to dance on your bladder. Continue drinking water like we discussed."They chatted a few moments about her health, Anders listening and watching her face. She was about thirty and her coloration reminded him somewhat of Fenris, though more of a golden brown where his tones had run silver and cool. Her hair was a dark color that almost wanted to be red. She had it shaved on the sides in what he thought looked like a fine warrior-type cut, and she asked Maura to touch it up from time to time. She said it made her feel like herself, when she'd had so many changes to her body lately.Adahlen had been terrified when he first met her. Terrified and trying to be brave. The beginning of her pregnancy had been so difficult. Bleeding, nausea. It had been hard for her as a mercenary to find herself in so vulnerable a situation. A loss of autonomy. Anders wished he could find a suitable elven midwife-- perhaps he could if he traveled to Denerim or Highever-- but Adahlen seemed to have reservations. She insisted she didn't want that kind of trouble on her account, when such a midwife was sorely needed in the alienage. Anders had attended the birth of many an elven child in his time, and he didn't think it could possibly be any worse than the episode with Tabris and Zevran.The elves departed on their way with warm words, and Anders watched them disappear up the trail into the forest.Connor slept until midday, when Anders woke him by tapping on the surface of the table near his cot. Anders fed him bread and gave him water, and Connor revived only enough to take a bath in the old wine cask outside. Anders brought jugs of water from the rain barrel to dump over his head. Connor would have to wear Anders' spare set of clothes, which fit him much better. He'd have to boil those filthy Circle robes. It became apparent to Anders that there would be changes around the cottage. He'd have to keep better organized. Eat regular meals. Become accustomed to other people again. Anders felt so weary of conversation even long after Connor had fallen asleep. It was no mark on the boy, of course. Anders had always preferred to retreat into his own personal spaces after a time. Varric used to say that he was like a cat, independent and quiet.Connor awoke sometime in the afternoon, with a peaceful breeze coming in through the open doorway of the cottage. He blinked as if not knowing where he was, tensing slightly, before he sagged back onto the cot. "I'm sorry, Trevelyan," he said. "I'm just so tired.""There's nothing to be sorry for," Anders told him. "Here is your first lesson as a healer. Always listen to your body."Connor smiled a tense smile, and then he faded again.Anders started him out the next day with a review of his abilities. He brought the boy down to a stony patch flooded over by the river, and there, surrounded by swaying trees and immersed in fresh air, he had Connor demonstrate the extent of his schooling. He thought he did his best to mask his disappointment.Disappointment not in Connor, of course. The boy performed to the level of his masters' expectations, which, Anders noted, were not considerable. He went through the forms with the aid of a staff, a basic progression through the typical Schools. Anders thought he was reaching a glimmer of promise by the time he had finished, but it was done, and Connor stood before him in a ready stance. Though Anders kept his expression neutral, Connor seemed to take it for a sign of disapproval. His ready stance melted into a posture of contrition, his eyes low."I'm sorry," he said. "I was still learning."Anders reserved his comments for now. "Nothing to be sorry for," he replied. "Please cast a barrier on both of us, but don't move from where you stand." Connor needed a staff for assistance, but there it was, the blue shimmer over them."Hit me with a chunk of ice."Connor hesitated."Go ahead."Connor threw an underhanded ball of ice."A bit more force. We're testing the barrier."Connor pelted him. A good throwing arm, actually. The ice smeared over the barrier before it dissolved. Anders smiled then to reassure him. "Thank you. That's a good barrier." It was important to give him an honest compliment. "All right, staff down, come to me.""I didn't do very well." "It wasn't terrible, but there's room for improvement." He'd know it if Anders lied to make him feel better. "It's not a reflection on you, however, Connor. It speaks of Kinloch tower. They've done you a disservice. You must learn how to walk, but they have taught you to limp.""They wouldn't let me do anything. No one wanted to teach me." Connor twisted his hands in a grip on the staff. "I had to go everywhere with my own set of templars, and, and when they came to replace each other, they'd talk about the shift about how I was, my, my moods, what magic we did... "Anders felt for him, thinking of the day-to-day humiliation. It would have been hard for him to make any friends. Students afraid of how it would make them look, or fearful of catching something of their own. "You deserve respect and basic dignity, like all people do. You needn't feel any shame for how they treated you. I can't change that for you with mere words, but I hope in time it will become easier."As they returned to the cottage, Anders told him, "There are different ways to become a healer. It may not be that you are intended for healing magic, but there are still plenty of ways that you can help people in distress. After all, the surgeons of Val Royaux have never cast a spell, nor the apothecaries in their shops or the wise-women of the woods. The midwives. The village healers. All of these people help." "You don't think I can do it," said Connor softly, without surprise. His face showed the shadowed acceptance of someone used to others giving up on him. He trudged along the forest path with no heart for the beauty of the wild all around them."I absolutely know you can do it," Anders replied. "It's only a matter of how that will be. The School of Creation. Bandages and herbs. Or simply knowing how to listen, which has a power all its own. I once knew a man who could make everything better without saying a word, and when he did talk, he knew just what to say. How to frame a problem. How to put himself in your place. He was a truly great and wise friend, and he had no magic at all. A dwarf, actually." Connor followed him through the wood. "But how did you become a Spirit Healer?""I don't think I became one. I just was one. I've only ever known one other, who was my teacher, but I hear we're all a weird lot. I'm going to make it look easy, but you should know that this is incredibly rare, so pay no attention to it. In fact, there's no skill to it for me, so I didn't even have to try. Perhaps that makes it cheap in a way. I've known much more talented mages who had to study and struggle for everything they've learned.""But you could still teach me from the School of Creation.""Yes, I believe so, but even if I can't, I won't let you walk away without the abilities you ought to have and the skills you wanted to know. I wanted to tell you this in the beginning, so that you knew what to expect.""Thank you, Trevelyan.""My pleasure. I'm so glad you're here, Connor."The boy looked a little choked up. Maker in heaven. Anders wanted to slap the shit out of Irving-- had he remained as Grand Enchanter in Kinloch? Or had he done the right thing and stepped down, after, of course, he and the Knight-Commander fled Uldred's takeover.Anders brought him to the fire before the cottage, and Connor went naturally toward the logs about it to have a seat. He must be unused to walking such distances. Anders let him have a moment. "Today's lesson will be safety, if we learn nothing else. Please start the fire there."Connor rose, staff in hand. "I'll have to ask you to put your staff aside for now. We're going to work on your technique. The staff can be a conduit as well as a crutch-- and I sense they probably made it into your crutch, so they could choose to disarm you." Connor set the staff along the logs, a slight frown on his face. Yet he did as asked, and fire sprang to life beneath the cookpot."Very good. Do you know how to put out your own fire?""We relied on the templars to cancel our magic.""Unsurprising, as it actually requires more skill to extinguish flames." Anders pulled the fire off the logs to snuff it out. "You redirect the heat when you do it. Very useful trick, in case a fire goes out of control. You saw what happened in the crossroads, didn't you, all those fires burning wild?"Connor nodded soberly, and when Anders asked him to cast again, he lit a new fire."Good. May I?" Anders motioned at Connor's hand. The younger mage didn't appear to understand right away, but he allowed Anders to approach and take his hand by the wrist. "Now go like you're going in to cast again, but concentrate on pulling the flame away." Anders held his left hand over his own chest. "Sometimes it helps to visualize... pulling in a breath. Pulling the air out. Pulling the heat out."Connor focused himself intently for a moment, and Anders shouldn't have been as surprised as he was when the fire snuffed out. Anders released his hand and stepped away. "Well done, Connor. Even I didn't get that on the first try." Connor seemed to yearn for praise, even as it made him uncomfortable. Without meeting Anders' eyes, and instead concentrating upon his task, Connor lit the fire and put it out again.When Anders smiled, Connor smiled also, at last. "Burn it hot, please. I'll show you a spell that we'll work on tomorrow."Connor blazed the fire, startling even himself, and Anders laughed gently. When the water reached a boil or thereabouts, Anders rolled up his sleeve to the elbow. Connor reacted immediately to the sight of his scars, but Anders paid them no mind. He plunged his hand into the boiling water, and Connor jumped back. "Trevelyan!" he cried.Of course the pain was incredible, but that was the point. Anders brought up his hand to cast a basic heal. He showed Connor the red and bubbled flesh of his hand and how it smoothed away in the white glow of healing. "You'll learn to do this," he told Connor. "This is from the usual discipline. The best way for you to achieve this, I think, is for you to practice your barrier for the rest of the day."His alarm fading, Connor nodded. A barrier covered Anders then-- thoughtful of him. Anders chuckled and said, "I don't need it now, but thank you. Practice your barrier, mind the fire, and clean your room. That's for you to do. That little building is yours now for the time being."It would be good to give him a project of his own. A space of his own. And besides, it would allow Anders to roam around the cottage in the middle of the night if he wanted, without concern for waking Connor up. And of course privacy for the nightmares, which were intense from the Calling. The boy stared at him with a slowly building sense of purpose, and he smiled, somewhat tightly. "Thank you, Trevelyan. I don't know what to say.""You don't have to. Now let's have something to eat."Connor set about with industry to clear out his new space. Anders saw him blurring and flashing with a barrier from time to time. Anders even had one cast on him. He left the staff alone all day, and Anders began to think that Connor might catch up on his progress in no time. Much of magic was mental. An attitude. You keep an eye on him, but you're not watching him. You let him do things on his own. He wanted to be trusted, and you gave that to him. There was a little prying into Trevelyan's past. Anders made it clear that he would not answer certain questions, but Connor only seemed to want to know general things. Sometimes innocent things. If he'd lived like a normal man. If he'd had a trade. If he'd had a house. If he ever thought about the Grey Wardens.And he'd wanted to know about the demon. How it happened. They were sitting on the logs around the fire, breaking bread and drinking broth together. Connor had gone quiet for a time before he asked; he'd been staring into the fire that popped with sap-filled wood."The spirit was my friend," Anders told him. "I wanted to help him. He wanted to help me. In some ways, the spirit did good things for me. Gave me purpose. The strength of conviction. I'd been a selfish young man, unsure of his place in the world, and set on a path I hadn't wanted." "Didn't you realize what would happen?""I thought I understood the consequences." "How long were you possessed?""A very long time, Connor.""But you still... came back."Anders smiled thinly. "What is left of me."Connor held his bowl low in his hands. His eyes were sad, and he had to be thinking of their conversation that first night, when he had asked Anders if he had ever thought of suicide. "How were you cured?"Anders considered whether or not to answer the question. He'd never spoken of this to anyone, not even Adaar, whose gentle understanding made him a comfortable companion. Yet he thought Connor should know at some point, as the explanation dovetailed with another matter of the boy's concern."It's painful to discuss," Anders told him at last. "Perhaps another time." "I'm sorry, Trevelyan.""Don't be. You can ask me anything you like, but I won't always answer you. Just as you are in no way obligated to discuss with me anything you find uncomfortable. Now, it's up to you, but you should go to bed soon. I think we'll go down into the villages tomorrow."Later, laying awake, Anders dreaded sleep with the nightmare so close to his heart. He knew he would dream of the room again, the eyes, but it turned out he didn't. As he drifted off, he had the impression of someone sitting in the chair nearby, and he dreamed a dream from memory. A rare good memory from before the extremes of life with Justice, restless always, who could never be happy. His dream was this, a thing he had nearly forgotten: the time that Zevran got the whole of Amaranthine to come alive in celebration, a holiday from Antivan culture, never mind that Tabris insisted it sounded made-up... ----- CHAPTER BREAK ----- Songbirds at first light, their music spreading through a golden wood.Anders folded in on himself and clutched his ratty blanket. It still smelled like the horse it once belonged to. He hated mornings.But Connor needed him.Time for a sorry attempt at breakfast.Garrett was a big believer in a hearty breakfast. Even in the nightmare landscape of stinking old Kirkwall, Garrett was still a comfy country healer at heart. Scones that crumbled when you dunked them, biscuits that steamed when you broke them. A dish of butter. A pot of jam. Clotted cream. Sausages. Rashers of bacon spitting in the pan. The smell of coffee. Garrett talking all the while, anything and everything. Laughing at his own jokes. His voice a deep happy rumble all throughout. He was so full of love. The most loving man that Anders had ever known.It hurt so much to think of him. A pain so wide and deep that it crushed Anders to his cot. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Connor. The boy was a Circle mage, and a noble brat before that. He might not know how to care for himself.Not that Anders was much better prepared, but there they were. He rose and went to the window screened in by climbing ivy and a panel of wicker he had found. He could see a blue shimmer of a Barrier some distance off from the cottage. The young man was already at practice there. Connor must have thought to keep from making noise, so as not to wake him.Anders changed out of his night shirt into the raggedy homespun he wore for the day. He preferred to hide the state of his arms with linen wraps, but they had gotten too filthy and interfered with his ability to wash his hands. Connor had already seen what happened with his arms, but the rest of it— he would take it the grave. The Deep Roads, anyhow. He’d have to wash them out. He’d have to clean up more around here, for that matter. Now that he had a student. Can’t be wallowing in filth. Hard to be happy when your belly is sad! Huh. Garrett always said that. Brown eggs with freckles. Shells thick, yolks rich. Healthy hens scratching and picking in the yard. Dried herbs sifted into dough. There’s a hope of breakfast waiting for you. That’s right. That’s right, the satchel. Maura and Sennon brought him supplies yesterday. He’d blown up a chantry, he could surely cook eggs.“I saw your Barrier practice,” Anders told Connor over his sorry attempt at breakfast. “Very good. You want to make it fast, instinctive.”Connor smiled shyly and gently resumed his meal. He had to be starving, but he ate with highborn manners.Anders just shoveled eggs into his mouth with bread like a peasant. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he’d begun to eat. At least there were only a few shell fragments in the eggs he scrambled up for them. Good for bones and teeth anyway. They were eating off the chipped earthenware plates that Anders found in this building. Afterward, Anders bade him start a fire beneath the tripod in the cottage hearth. A few months ago he’d found an iron kettle untouched in the ruins of a tavern far north of here. He’d brought it along with him since. Connor was hesitant to make fire inside a building. Anders too for that matter, but Connor wanted so badly to be trusted. Let him try at this. When it worked, and water boiling, the young man’s awkward face shone with a radiant joy.The cups they drank tea from were mostly cleanish. Birds piped and sang. The forest breathed in and out with a gorgeous early summer day.Down they went to the village later in the morning. Anders had served the hinterlands and bannorn for some time, moving to follow the conflict as it chased Fiona’s mages down to their proffered sanctuary. He still hated to go about by day, fearful of being seen too clearly by anyone who might know of him. It was hard to come by news of any accuracy, but it was believed that Anders from Kirkwall was dead. For a time he’d let his face grow hair wild and stiff and unkempt to hide his features. He’d let himself get dirty too, filthy from travel, wrapped in rags, drinking ditchwater and laying down in fields at night. Waking up to cattle nosing him. Grass wet and cold with dew. He’d just wanted to punish himself, and still did. Nowadays he knew he couldn’t look too scraggly. He needed to be clean enough to handle patients. To be trusted by them in some small measure.Most of the time people saw what they wanted to see, what they expected to. Trevelyan the old man. He couldn’t remember where he’d heard the name from originally. He should have put more effort in his cover story, but he hardly meant to spend much time with anyone at any length.Anders had to make sure he didn’t say too much to Connor. Perhaps he’d already said too much, but he wanted the boy to know he understood him. He knew it was a miracle he found Connor in time. Almost the Maker’s doing, how it happened like that. He knew he could reach Connor where no one else could, yet— he had to make sure that even the boy didn’t put too much of the details together.He was just too tired to come up with some elaborate story. That’s where all his plans fell apart eventually. The details. First Kinloch, then Kirkwall too. What did he think would happen to Garrett and Varric and Aveline and everyone after the Chantry exploded?“Ser?” Connor prompted him. His face became worried.Anders realized that Connor had been talking all this while. The boy talked so much now, like the dam had burst. “Ah, I’m sorry, Connor,” he said. “I’m distracted.”“Is it the elf, the one who’s going to have the baby?” Well yes. That had been on his mind for sure. “Err— yes. We have some time to find a midwife.” “Can’t you heal her if something goes wrong?”“She’ll be safe, of course. But babies are complicated. You always want to have a midwife.”“Am… am I going to have to… ?” Connor now looked more worried than ever before.“Maker no. I might have you run me some errands, but leave the rest to Adahlen, the midwife, and myself. With any luck, Adahlen and nature will do all the work.”He would start Connor off easy enough— the usual rounds through the village. He’d wanted to check up on some patients from before. A courtesy. Most of them were fine within moments of treatment. Others, not quite so easy. You couldn’t magic away someone with a chronic condition, though there were little things that could ease their troubles for a while.(He thought again of Bryant, the old templar at Lothering. Garrett was one of a kind. What had he mean by that? Did he know? He had to know.)Connor was nervous to go in too close to Redcliffe proper. Anders too, for that matter, especially in broad daylight. At least if anyone in the outlaying villages knew Connor and his circumstances, they’d see him at a healer’s side. Fast at work to learn how to help the lives of others.“You don’t have to go with me everywhere today,” Anders told him, “if you’re not ready. I’d like you to at least try to see at least one visit, since it’s so good for learning. I can only teach you so much back at the cottage.”“I’ll go,” Connor vowed. “Just please— don’t boil your arm again, Trevelyan.”They whiled away hours in the village. More than Anders meant to. No serious injuries. Sprains and bruises. Slips and falls. A mabari had gotten into a scrap with a gurgut and needed the scratches on his snout cleaned and healed. Somebody wanted him to cure a mole he had. (It’s just a mole! Anders told him. Nothing wrong with that!) Connor watched all the while. Anders was sure to ask permission of his patients to have him join them, of course. It’s only right to make sure they’re respected. One elderly woman was so happy for all the attention that she listed all her aches and pains, her sorrows, her entire life’s history, some gossip heard about the market, and so forth. Anders liked her, though the gossip might have been a bit too juicy for poor Connor.“Some old ladies will tell you anything,” Anders remarked as they headed on. He’d hit his limit for small talk by then. Garrett was always better at that— he’d talk to anyone about anything. He certainly could! Maker’s ball sack, the things total strangers would involve him in. Always did love his drama, Garrett did.In time the red would fade from Connor’s burning ears. “Is it always like this, today?” he asked. “Every time’s different. Illness, sprains, burns. Farm life is hard work, and people get injured. Sometimes we’ll heal animals too, like the dog today. Whoever needs it, we’ll help them. Sometimes to listen is to help them too. I’m— I’m trying to better at it. They’re scared, hurt. Some of them lonely. That itself is real pain, too. It kills.” And Connor looked away along the fields, and Anders watched his face. The boy knew that all too keenly.Back they went through the countryside, up into the sloped hills of vibrant trees. The sound of insects and birds everywhere. A fennec dashed across the path. Garrett made it seem so easy, back in the day. He was always scooping up people. Adopting them. It seemed like there were always voices in the house, always footsteps, always Garrett thudding around and the dog sniffing and whining. He just knew what to do. He just knew people.He’d know what to do with Connor here. The young man needed structure. A routine. Work to keep him busy, but meaningful work. Something to build his confidence, but also something he could fail at. Something safe. Anders knew these things, but he struggled with them himself. Only Justice kept him focused for a time, setting him singlemindedly on his purpose, task to task from top to bottom. Oh the boundless energy he felt then. The power of it. He could spend every waking moment in the clinic, go to his cot, drop, wake, and go back to it again. The early days of it, before the exhaustion, the blackouts, the slip of his control. Then, some days it took him hours to rise from the bed. Some days it felt all his energy was spent, dropping him off into some yawning pit of futility and despair. The pit was well known to him nowadays. A personal hell he could not escape.I know you need time to yourself, Garrett told him once, kneeling down by the bed to peer into his sad coccoon. I know I’m so loud. You’re like a cat, you need your quiet. You’ll come out when you’re ready. I feel so lucky when you come to me. I know you love me. I love you too.Garrett. Garrett. You deserved so much better.No. Nono. Not this, not now.For Connor’s sake, Anders was going to have to get himself together here. Young people need structure. Connor would be accustomed to the routines of the Circle. He was in a tender state. He would want certainty. So Anders set about with daily tasks, a mix of chores and practice, and some assigned reading from books that might prove useful. He had started to accumulate a haphazard library of books taken from slain Venatori. Connor devoured every chance to be Good. He jumped into the new routine with such ferocity that Anders feared the boy wouldn’t be able to sustain it. Or himself, for that matter. Connor was desperate for his second chance and grabbed it with both hands. How many second chances had Anders squandered? The Grey Wardens, Kirkwall. Tabris and Hawke. Always biting the hand that reached to him. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about hurting Connor— no, Maker, no. He’d help the boy learn skills and confidence, and push him toward his rightful future. Then Anders would recede— go away, into the Deep Roads, into nothing. To finalize the death already written for him years ago in Varric’s book. It was less than what Garrett begged him promise, but— but he couldn’t go on, not anymore. He knew what he felt was his Calling, that low roar at the horizon.It’s just— he was so tired. Maker grant him strength to get that far. You need better food here. You should trade with the Inquisition. Well.He needed better food here. He should trade with the Inquisition.He’d been putting it off. You heard a familiar voice the last time you went. Varric’s voice laughing as he told a story around the fire. Sometimes he laughs at his own jokes. It cut you to the core. You forgot your hunger. You left. Varric, Varric, Varric. Maker. Good thing no one saw him. I saw you. He’d been putting this off for too long. He might as well.A sizeable hoard of loot jumbled in one corner of the hut. He’d meant to wash and sort it. He’d just lost interest. Had other things to do. It was hard to bring himself to load his bag, picking through the items for things he could reasonably trade with a camp quartermaster. Easy things to appraise for value. He didn’t want to linger round the camp while somebody mulled over what they had before them. In fact— this was a bad idea. It always was. You need food! You can’t eat grass. Connor needed a decent meal. That always went a long way to making someone feel better. Maura and Sennon’s gift of rations were only crumbs now.But perhaps he could still wait for Sera or Adaar to come by. Offload these things on them. No. It might be days. What about Connor, what about you? “I could go instead,” Connor ventured. He didn’t want to; that much was certain from his face alone. But he wanted to be useful, so it compelled him to offer more than his own comfort would allow.“Don’t offer things to people you don’t really want to do,” Anders told him. “That’s always trouble. You can go later if you like, but I won’t be gone for very long.”He went by night. The forest gleamed blue and silver, a hush to it. He might go faster on the road, but he didn’t want attention or company should anyone be passing through. A small chance, but nothing he desired to risk.His Grey Warden eyes helped him see his way through the dark. It was this way that allowed him to kill so many Venatori unawares. Fools all of them. He had only contempt for them. His true fear was the Inquisition. Varric Tethras. Their commander. Sweet Maker. Would he never be free from Cullen Rutherford?Anders felt his stomach twist cold the closer he approached to the camp. He could see their campfires and smell their cooking. Delicious woodsmoke smells. In typical fashion he’d forgotten to eat, missing meals, conserving his stale biscuits and limp root vegetables. Anxiety and hunger panged so strongly in his body that he found himself shaking. Hearing Varric’s voice that time. The rich laughter of it. A tankard around the fire, rabbit stew in the pot. ‘All right, so here’s the thing,’ him chortling. People leaning in. Crosstalk, more laughter. Anders had been swept over with nausea. Varric’s voice, hearing him again after so many years. Varric, Varric. Anders slipped away and gone hungry out of terror, nothing to fill his belly but shame without measure.His eyes stung from the memory alone.He couldn’t be discovered. He couldn’t. Not when everyone believed that he was dead. He would conclude his business here and die with no one the wiser. He just needed supplies. Food. For Connor, for himself, just enough to keep going for a little while longer. The templar in Lothering asked you to stay to eat with his family. Roast mutton, pickled vegetables. Oat cakes with honey. It sticks to your ribs. You could go there. You could go back to old house where the sun warms the garden. So lonely, so unwanted, so guilty. This was all his fault of course. All of it. No one to blame but himself.Why was he thinking of Lothering now. The overgrown garden, the burnt house? The burial markers for their ashes. Where were Garrett’s ashes now? From what he heard, from what they were saying the body must have been so waterlogged for being under so long, how did they--“Hello.”Anders burst up a tree in a reflexive Fade Step.Maker, he was spiralling!A reedy figure stood below him. A straw hat tilting. A pale face in the moonlight. Just a boy. “In the kitchen back at Skyhold,” he said. “I saw a cat who saw a cucumber. He jumped just like you did.”Anders was a good twenty feet up the tree. A hornbeam, his fingernails digging into rough bark. He’d slipped completely out of the knapsack of loot and it lay strewn below.“Don’t be afraid,” the boy continued. “We are friends. You came to trade. I packed a bag for you.”With his blood rushing in his ears, Anders stammered, “Who are you?” “My name is Cole. You told Adaar your name was Trevelyan.”Anders didn’t like the way he said that. “You— you startled me, that’s all.”“I’m sorry. They tell me I keep scaring people. I don’t want to scare anyone. I want to help.”Anders swallowed his heart. “Hm, yes, I’ve— I’ve come to trade.”“You can stay in the tree if you like. I like trees.” Cole smiled. The way he smiled was like someone pushing their face into the expression they thought someone else would want to see. “I left your bags behind the rock that looks like a goose.”“Which one is that.”“It looks like a goose. But not from up there. Up there it looks like a rock. It’s that one.”“Thank you. You can take the pack and go, then.” He did. He went off somewhere with the knapsack. He didn’t even look inside it, Anders realized after a long moment. Perhaps— perhaps Sera or Adaar had told him to do that. Anders meshed himself into a Barrier and slid from the tree. A soft thud on the forest floor. He went to the boulder that looked like— yes, all right, it did look like that. Two satchels. Heavy yet balanced when he took them on his shoulders. He didn’t bother to go through them either, not yet. Not with the camp so close by. He needed to get out of here.His thoughts caromed one way and another the entire journey back. His stomach felt like ice. The boy. The boy, he’d seen the boy before. Hadn’t he? A familiar look to him. What was his name. All that came to mind was ‘cucumber.’Connor was fast asleep in his little outbuilding by the time Anders returned to the derelict cottage.He summoned a wisp for light and let it waft up into the rafters, where drying herbs cast floral shadows all along plank walls. Then he dumped out the bags taken from the Inquisition.Rationally, he knew that the runes and amulets and magic miscellany should command a pretty sum when traded for necessities. Yet to see the small plentitude packed for him— it lumped his throat and stung his eyes.Oh, oh. Round loaves of bread with seeds on them. Herbed rolls baked with shredded cheese. And cheeses too, little cheeses, and a cloth of smashed chevre. Dried fruit that smelled rich and tangy. Dried meats. Grains. Hazelnuts. Hardboiled eggs. Elfroot, both as root and also in dried leaves and buds and flowers. Blood lotus. A wineskin. Pots of jam. Potatoes. Books. Books!A guide to herbalism. Two novels. One of them a Varric Tethras. The Tale of the Champion. No. No no no.Icy terror flooded him. Does Adaar know. Does Sera, do the Red Jennys? The Jennys knew him back in Kirkwall, helping the refugees. Could it be that— did she know? Did Varric? The Inquisitor?Anders gripped the book white-knuckle. Varric doesn’t know. Your friends don’t know. It’s only a book. It’s the book. Anders heard there was one, but he never— I’m sorry. You can forget about it for now. Forget about it for now. Anders shoved it back into the pack and shoved it under his cot where he lay sleepless until morning.It was bound to happen. He snapped at Connor. The boy was making progress, both with magic and the practical aspects of medicine. Yet he was still so tentative, so shy, always minimizing himself. Always afraid, like a hutch rabbit begging to be put back in the cage.Anders had prepared himself for what to do when Connor made a mistake. Everyone makes a mistake. He thought it might even be good for him to fail here, where it was safe. That’s what Garrett said to Fenris one time. Everyone fucks something up sometime. It’s what you do after. I fuck up all the time, and I always will. (And he’d chuckled saying so, patting Lady’s big dumb head.)But Connor hadn’t even failed. It was the— the approach of it. The Maker gave his mages a gift, and Connor was too squeamish to accept his birthright. His lack of confidence made him ineffectual, but also dangerous, in some ways. Like someone too afraid to hold a snake firmly, and it could still lash and strike. Like someone too scared to hold a torch properly— sending the sparks everywhere. But that— that’s how Anders justified his irritation. It was more that he was tired and wasn’t good with people sometimes. Connor hadn’t even done anything wrong, not yet.But the boy was stricken nonetheless. He had been rejected by everyone else. This had to feel like the ground crumbling beneath his feet.Anders felt ashamed. Felt watched. “I’m sorry, Connor,” he said. “I’m not very good at this, at being a teacher. Something is broken in me.”The boy wouldn’t look at him, and Anders searched for the right thing to say. What would Garrett say here.Anders tried: “I want the best for you, that’s all. And I want to be the sort of mentor you deserve. I believe in you, and we’ll work on this together.”They ate strong yellow cheese and crusty bread. Mugs of tea. Connor hesitatingly reached out to shake his hand. He summoned a faint light that closed the scabs on Anders’ knuckles. It worked! “I just don’t want to make a mistake.”“Everyone does. It’s what you do after. You can’t be ruled by fear.”After Connor went to sleep, Anders took down some elfroot of lesser quality from where he hung it out to dry. He should pick up a pipe or something in the village. He’d been using scraps of paper. A thought occurred to him.He went to the book near-forgotten under the bed. Meanly he smirked. Well then. Rolling papers it is.He ripped off one truly stupid page that he guessed was about the whole Qunari business in the city. Did Varric capture the grandiosity of the moment where Garrett screamed in high pitch while the Arishok thundered after him?After he’d had some time to enjoy his cigarillo, Anders opened the book and leafed through it.Clearly Varric left out some major information . But it seemed quaint. The description of Garrett— Anders had to admit he liked it. Hawke made you think of a big furry striped cat, the kind that would have a feather-duster tail and giant paws and a mustache and hair that tufted from its ears. A big tum, and a deep smooth purring voice.Yes, that was it, wasn’t it.Anders remembered the day they met. Garrett clearly loved him from the very first moment. Love at first sight, like in fairytales.It had been a tense day in the hidden clinic when the lot of them came rambling up. Varric saying, “Hey, yeah, here’s the guy,” and Garrett had stood there oafish, massive, and amazed. Something about him bristled Justice all at once, though Anders could only see a giant man with an impressive beard and wild eyebrows. He was handsome, of course he was, but Anders was entangled then with worries and obsessions and duties and thoughts of Karl, captive in the Gallows, his fate uncertain.After Anders begrudged an agreement to join the expedition, so long as he secured their help— this ragtag pack of fools— he shooed Garrett from his clinic, only to have the man step backwards into a bucket and get his boot wedged there. Hawke hobbled a few steps, stumbled, lurched, and then leaned against a wall as though to play it smooth. Anders knew he would regret this.After that he’d started coming by the clinic. Anders thought he knew at once what he was after. He knew how he looked, and there had been a time he’d have jumped right into it. But he couldn’t be with anyone after Justice. Even then he knew it would be dangerous.But stupid Garrett— he was persistent, sweet, adoring, though there was a distance to him too. It came as some relief that Hawke’s interest in the clinic seemed paramount. He had been a healer back in Lothering. “Let me help you help these people,” he said. “You don’t have to do this all alone.”It was too much. Too much to remember now, or ever. His mood declining from its reprieve, Anders shoved the book away and laid a long time in his bed.Fearful dreams, none he remembered the coming day.Adahlen was back early the next day. Anders bleared out to meet her, and brought her in to join Connor and himself in their sumptuous little breakfast. At least his stab at one. After Garrett Hawke has made you breakfast nothing else compares. For that he could be deemed Champion alone.“Rustic, I like it,” Adahlen laughed. A city elf, a mercenary who used to run as a guard with the merchant caravans. Then she’d gotten with child. The whereabouts of the father were unclear; Anders never pressed. He wondered if she would settle out here; Tabris had been instrumental in winning more rights for the elves in Ferelden. Even before the Chantry spun into turmoil, it could no longer enforce the strictures of the alienage in Ferelden. They had already begun to move out into bannorn life.Connor seemed shy of her, though he was in good spirits that morning. He didn’t quite know what to do with her. She was a punchy, delightfully loutish person, Adahlen was. Anders liked her.She’d come about the baby, of course. Due soon enough. Perhaps they could discuss the matter of the midwife.Anders dismissed Connor to his practice after their meal, and he made an effort to clean up, though he kept his body turned in attention toward her. Adahlen had her boots up as much as she could manage.“About the midwife,” she said.“There’s no need to worry. We will find you one.”“Seems like we looked high and low. Let’s just go without.” “Appreciate you and Maura and Sennon looking into it, though.”This took him by surprise. “No midwife?”“I have you, don’t I? I’ve seen you heal a man cut completely in half.”“He wasn’t completely cu—”“But he was mostly. Anyway, you’ve delivered babies before.”“Yes, but we preferred to have a midwife.”“Right then. What if I double the fee?”“Adahlen. There is no fee. There is never a fee.”“Maybe you should think about it. Maybe I don’t like being in your debt.”“To help is its own reward. And for this we’ve always preferred to have a midwife about, someone who’s been through this. I’ve never been pregnant, I’ve never given birth.”“Well, don’t be so sure. Miracles happen all the time now, don’t they?” Adahlen smiled with false bravado.Anders wracked his brain after their encounter. Why wouldn’t she want a midwife. What could her reasons be. Garrett always knew the right thing to say to people. To Adahlen it would be something strikingly insightful, but also shockingly sarcastic. He seemed to know just who was going to like that kind of talk. She was a mercenary. So, self-reliance? She was ready to accept Anders’ help, though she seemed to want to pay for it. Should he consider a token offering of coin? No, he couldn’t take coin from her. What if: make her promise to do someone else a good turn later on. Garrett liked to do those. He could make you want to be a hero.What if: was it an elven thing perhaps? Something he was ignorant of. Fearful of judgment from a dalish midwife, or even another city elf like herself? There could sometimes be stark differences in subcultures between the alienages. He thought of Tabris and Zevran. Where were they now. And the girl would be about ten years old, wouldn’t she.Whatever it with Adahlen, he would find out, or he wouldn’t. Perhaps best not to press. At Kinloch, you made everyone’s business your business because nothing ever happened, and you’d go mad otherwise. Every day like the day before, busywork that blurred and blurred together until you died. With Justice he felt the same old gossipy impulses, but he couldn’t just recognize them for what they were. He had to feel self-righteous too. He had to inject himself where he didn’t belong.Adahlen was in fine hands. Let it be.Over the next few days, Connor devoured his assigned reading. He practiced his forms dawn to dusk. He went at such a clip that Anders warned him not to exhaust himself. To prepare for setbacks, for mistakes, for failure. Anders himself felt these things keenly, even though he hardly tried to apply himself. He had been a lazy, resentful prodigy. He’d never asked for any of it, and back in the tower there seemed no point to anything at all. His miraculous powers of healing— for a templar’s kidney stone, for a split lip at practice? Someone getting a black eye because they ‘fell’? Sometimes they let Anders out with Wynne. For emergencies. But to be out of the stench of mold and lake muck, to feel fresh air across his face, to break bread with grateful villagers, to do real good— how could he go back after that, and want to stay?It seemed enough for Connor. He spoke sometimes of longing for the tower. Wondering if the Circle would be reformed; if he could return. Well, Anders thought, Connor didn’t know what he wanted yet. How could he? Everyone had feared a demon would possess him again that no one wanted to teach him anything. In the meantime, Anders made himself clean up the cottage. It had become a daunting task with no apparent place to start. Start here, the table. So you have a tidy place to sit down together, to eat together. Might as well start with the table, so they could sit down together properly. And Connor could spread his books for reference. He might like to look back at a diagram, at bones or muscles, at illustrations of beneficial herbs. Something of the like. From there he worked his way outward. The hearth, to clear out the ashes. Take them out to the yard to mix with water. Dig them into the little patch of garden dirt, in that spot where sunlight broke through the wood. Garrett had shown him that: ashes for the garden, eggshells too, and coffee grounds. (What Anders would do for a cup of coffee nowadays; wasn’t catching on in Ferelden yet.) Connor had come in from practice toward the afternoon and volunteered to help. Anders turned away his offer, though he did send him away with a task, to re-home a toad discovered in the corner of the cottage. And they had stood there looking at it cupped in Connor’s hands, a small goblinish thing, its weird yellow eyes, its warty body, its strange little hands as it squirmed and readjusted. Connor had taken it lovingly off to the creek and set it free among a nest of ferns.From then on they began their days at the table, Connor with his nose in his books, Anders quizzing him on spells, on symptoms, on herbs and human anatomy. They drank cups of tea in the morning and walked the woods— “What’s the name of this plant, and how is it used?” and “Someone’s had a fall, why don’t you move them?” Down in the villages they went among the farms and households. Connor had mustered the courage to stand before the people he once ruled over; what they thought of it, Anders had no idea. None of them said anything of it, and if they looked a little long, or a little ways askance, that was the most of it for then. Connor was devoted to helping them, and his first great victory came soon enough— the healing of a donkey’s leg. “A job well done,” Anders told him as they walked into the red light of sunset, the weedy hike back up to the cottage. “I think the School of Creation will suit you, healer.”Connor looked away, shoulders up. “It was just a donkey. It doesn’t matter.”“I’m sure the donkey would say otherwise.”And Connor said nothing, his face in the patchy sleeve of his robe.That evening they sat at supper in the warm glow of the hearthfire, the cottage gold and orange around them. The dark blue of the wood beyond the shutters. The sound of frogs and crickets. Afterward Anders stood outside and had himself a smoke, pinches of dried elfroot rolled in paper, another page from Varric’s stupid book.
10784943	Schools Out	{ "Archive Warning": "Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings", "Category": null, "Characters": "Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley", "Fandom": "Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling", "Language": "English", "Rating": "General Audiences", "author": "by alloy [archived by thequidditchpitch_archivist]", "chapters": "1/1", "completed": "", "published": "2006-09-21T00:00:00", "words": "222", "Additional Tags": "Fluff, Drabble", "Relationship": null, "Character": null, "Relationships": null, "Series": null, "Collections": "The Quidditch Pitch", "Fandoms": null, "Archive Warnings": null, "Categories": null, "Bookmarks": null, "Chapters": null, "Comments": null, "Completed": null, "Hits": null, "Kudos": null, "Published": null, "Words": null, "Updated": null }	School’s Out.by alloyHermione Granger arrived at Kingscross Station just moments before the Express was due.Her desk at the ministry was clear, her month long leave approved.The mulling parents of muggleborn witches and wizards were trying to look inconspicuous about the barrier to Platform nine and three quarters as Hermione slipped past them.Children were spilling out onto the platform.Parting friends were hugging and shaking hands, promises to owl, invitations to visit. Young loves sharing a parting kiss, hoping their relationship would weather the summer.He stood at the end of the platform, taller than the vast majority of the students, overseeing the melee, fulfilling his final obligations of the school term.A responsible authority.Hermione could contain herself no longer, she broke into a run, the students clearing a path. Some of the senior students chuckling as they recognised her, till finally she launched herself into his arms.Ron grunted ever so slightly, Hermione felt him shifting his weight to support hers.“Highly inappropriate behaviour Miss Granger.” He said.“Sod it!” She replied and was rewarded with a rich chuckle from deep inside him.“Sod it!” she said again for good measure. He was hers now, hers and hers alone for the next month.Not Professor Weasley, just plain Ron. Her Ron.School was most definitely out.

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